Thanksgiving is never easy when you’re far from home. Especially when that home includes Annie’s famous thanksgiving potluck get together or Grama Sue’s long dining room table lined with my crazy family members and food that anyone who knows anything would travel far and wide to taste.

My second thanksgiving in Tanzania was no easier than the first. Knowing everyone back home is together celebrating (and drinking heavily no doubt) can be a little tough to stomach, especially when all I want is some damn turkey. But, if I can’t be at Annie’s or at Grama Sue’s, where else would I want to be other than Sepuka.

This year my site-mate, Kiki, and I decided to throw a Thanksgiving bash in our village (she lives about 2 kilometers away from me). We sent out word to other volunteers that we were having a shin-dig and that everyone was welcome. The response was record breaking – 15 volunteers showed up to the ‘pook to see what we had cookin’ for thanksgiving. Most traveled at least a day to get here; some traveled two days. And we did not disappoint.

With our master chef, Alana, in the kitchen (and trust me, it was her kitchen), DJ Fo on the speakers, and Rama slaughtering 4 chickens out back, it was shaping up to be an unforgettable day. Although we weren’t allowed in the kitchen for fear of getting our paws slapped, everyone pitched in to help with preparation and manning the three charcoal stoves we had going. A crate of beer, a slack line, 5 bottles of wine, hours of tunes, and four buckets of charcoal later we were more than ready to eat. The menu was as follows:

-fruit salad

-honey bread

-banana bread

-stuffing

-candied sweet potatoes

-mashed potatoes

-Shepard’s pie

-green beans

-deviled eggs

-homemade macaroni and cheese

-cranberries

-stuffed green bell peppers

-4 perfectly cooked chickens (2 types)

-pumpkin pie and;

-Alana twist yellow cake

Wow.

Our dinner guests included Mama Menga, her brother-in-law, and her son Rama. All who helped with chicken preparation that we were all too chicken to take part in. Sharing one of my favorite holidays with people from my village was my favorite part of the whole day. They ate food they’ve never dreamed of, and got to watch us run around like the fools we are, giddy with the excitement of being with friends and feasting, and got to learn more about a culture that is so foreign to them. As we went around in a circle introducing ourselves to our guests, I looked around at my friends, some new some old, and felt so completely thankful; thankful for all people who traveled to be with us, thankful for the resources and means to prepare such an amazing meal, and thankful for the opportunity to share a little America with our Tanzanian friends.

A viewing of my new favorite comedy, Bridesmaids, an after dinner treat of the best deviled eggs this side of the Serengeti, and another crate of beer were ridiculous yet oh so necessary. With mattresses borrowed from the girls hostel at the secondary school and Kiki’s 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom mansion, everyone (well, most everyone…) crashed comfortably.

Post-turkey/chicken day activities included a grand tour of Sepuka. If you’re ever in need of a little entertainment, just take a group of 15 Peace Corps volunteers around your sleepy village. We took a chai break in the village center, wandered over to my house, and then up to the primary school to check out the world map. I couldn’t tell if people were terrified or excited. Tiny heads poked out from behind their mama’s legs, village elders stared in disbelief (probably that it appeared I had so many friends), and we rambled on across farms and through houses laughing, telling stories, and greeting everyone in sight.

It was a thanksgiving celebration for the books thanks to everyone who made it possible, tasty, and thoroughly entertaining. I’m sure we’ll be the talk of the town until at least next rainy season.

Our safari was over and we still had two whole weeks left together. Great news. And the even better news was that things were about to get real.

The bus ride from Arusha to Singida is not exactly something you sign up to do for fun on a Saturday, but there we were – eating breakfast snacks we wrapped up from the hotel before getting on the bus (I had forgotten such a thing even existed, cinnamon rolls, muffins, and croissants, oh my!), eyeing a man who looked absolutely identical to Morgan Freeman and guessing as to what kind of character study he was doing undercover research for, and loving the view of the rolling hills, road construction and oncoming traffic (in which we all held our breath momentarily until a head on collision was avoided). My dad took over the demanding task of opening our bus window just as we were all about to pass out from stifling heat exhaustion and closing it as buses or huge lorries kicked up clouds of gritty red dust through our window and into our teeth. We picked up a passenger along the way who was eager to meet jeff and kath, and a few hours later we pulled into Singida for a night on the town with a gaggle of Peace Corps volunteers.

Up and down the streets of Singida we strolled, buying last minute gifts for neighbors and stocking up on fruits and veggies for the week ahead. The week ahead in my village, Sepuka.

From day one I was pumped about having my parents come visit me in Tanzania. But having them eat breakfast in my house, walk the paths between the clinic and the school and village center, climb the boulders behind my house to watch the red summer sun set, fetch bucket after bucket of water from the well, and meet and love my Tanzanian friends and family in another language was beyond words. We spent time with my counterpart’s family, toured the health clinic, checked out the World Map at the primary school, and still had time to love on my amazing site mate, Kiki, as they got a little glimpse of what my day to day looks like up close and personal. They met village government officials, my friend’s new baby, Samaki the little black kitten, my neighbors and extended family, and the countless others who greeted us as we moseyed around. We cooked dinners on my charcoal stove, and my dad fixed me up a nice stone path in my courtyard. Lazy days filled with translating ‘wow you look just like your mother!’ turned into cool nights as we cleaned rice, washed clothes and dishes, and told stories until the candles burned out. After over a year of hearing about my joys and my pains, the laughter and the tears, and the incredible moments that make my life as a peace corps volunteer worth waking up for every morning, they were finally able to live and breathe it, and begin to understand.

We hopped on a village bus passing by Sepuka and headed into Singida, spending the night in town before the last leg of our epic journey. My dad and I laughed as my mom lost the soap down the latrine hole in the bathroom. We ate ‘pizza’ at the Stanley, Singida’s classiest dining experience, and tucked under fleece blankets with puppies and ‘romantic lover dogs’ printed smack dap in the center. The next day we loaded on the bus headed to Dar es Salaam, despite the limited leg room. Looking to break the trip up a bit, we stopped in Morogoro to visit a friend who had recently started his Masters degree in environmental studies at a University there. We had lunch and told stories, answered questions and massaged our swollen feet before Humphrey escorted us back to the bus stand to catch a bus into the loud, dirty, and noisy booming city of Dar.

The rains came and went as our ferry crossed the open waters between Dar and Zanzibar. It was early morning and we were looking forward to linin’ up those chairs poolside and taking walks down one of the island’s most beautiful beaches. We arrived at Matemwe Beach mid-morning and didn’t take much time to lose the travel gear, slap on some sunscreen (thanks to our own personal cream master), and take a quick tour around the beach villas before settling into a few chairs at the pool with a great view of the white sand beach and the Indian Ocean.

We couldn’t have timed our arrival better. The full moon rose over the dark waters and lit up the beach like it was midday. Pre-dinner snacks and cocktails rang in the new moon and we made friends (of course, we’re joneses) with others visiting the Tanzanian island from all over the world. That dinner, and every other meal we had at Matemwe, was absolutely incredible. Tomato risotto, beef filets, and caramel crème dessert just to name a few, my dad and I partook in evening jogs down the beach so we could indulge in an equally exquisite meal the following day. We took walks down the wide beach as men returned from long days of fishing and women pulled in the last of their seaweed collections for the day. A dhow sailboat ride inside the reef was just what I needed. We zig-zagged into the wind and set a downwind tack for our ‘go-home’ route. Another amazing dinner and deep sleep in an air-conditioned room were just what I needed as I counted down the hours until Duncan would show up to spend the last few days with us on the island.

For someone who has been talking about going to Zanzibar since the moment we all set foot in this country, Duncan’s time at the beach was well worth the wait. Monday morning we all suited up and headed out on a small boat to a nearby island for some snorkeling. Now, my parents and I weren’t going to say anything, but I don’t think any of us expected much during this day trip. We couldn’t have been more wrong. The dinghy neared the island and one of the guides spotted a pod of dolphins surfacing to get more air just a short ways away from us. They told us to strap on those masks and get in the water as they pulled up right at the spot we had just seen these dolphins. Within seconds we had entered their underwater world, all sounds were drowned out by the absolute stillness of watching a baby dolphin nurse from its mother as she devoured a fish just below me. Soon they were swimming back up for air, around and in-between us. At one point the dolphin within 5 feet of me and I stared at it in awe, like I was intruding and watching something I shouldn’t be watching. The dolphins continued on their way, and we giddily made our way over to the reef for our scheduled snorkel tour. The fish on both sides of the island were beyond all of our wildest dreams. Blues, oranges, stripes, and polka dots flooded the spaces between the surface and the sand; the coral swayed and flowed with the current as we hovered above. We eagerly pointed out sea snakes and eels, new coral and Grama Sue’s favorite fish as we floated in our wet suits above a world we couldn’t even begin to understand the depth of. It started to get cold and the sprinkling rain wouldn’t let up so we all flipped ourselves back into the dinghy and set off back towards shore.

Dinners were a memorable time for all of us during those last few nights at the beach. Not only did we eat more delicious food as we drank bottles of red wine, but it gave Duncan and I a chance to pretend, if only for an evening, that we were just regular people on vacation, chatting and sharing embarrassing stories with my parents like normal people get to do all the time. For a short time we weren’t Peace Corps volunteers living amongst absurd poverty, we were normal people (I was even in a dress that stopped above my knee) out to dinner with my parents and it meant more than either one of us could express.

On the second to last day of our trip we left the resort and headed into Stone Town, the main city of Zanzibar located on the west coast of the island. The town center boasts the culture and heritage of both the old slave trade and the internationally renowned spice trade. Mazes and narrow alleys make up the heart of Stone Town, it’s shops, old carved wood doors, mosques, bazaars, and late night street food at the waterfront make this old city a hotspot for tourists while taking pride in the unique culture and history of Zanzibar.

The goodbye seemed to get harder the more days there were after the time we watched them walk through security at the airport. My dad put it best, ‘I didn’t realized how much I missed you until I saw you.’ Thanks mom and dad, for your unconditional love and support of whatever adventure I seem to find myself on. I wouldn’t be who I am today if you weren’t there with my every step of the way. I love you.

10:00 on the dot. I’ve been waiting for this moment for the past year and a half. My loyal taxi driver, Peter, met me at the bar to take me to the airport. Peter has taken me to and from the airport to meet guests a few other times, he knows I like to be early and sit in the humid mosquito infested waiting area and pace back and forth like I used to do in the hall outside my bedroom on Christmas morning. I think he was a little tired of this scene so he pulled over at a bar and said simply, ‘I buy beer now.’ We had a drink and chatted, I eagerly checked my phone every 30 seconds to see how much more time we had. I was counting down the minutes, squirming in my chair trying to finish my beer as fast as I could so I could get him back in the car and back on the road.

Finally at the airport, I stood in front of the automatic doors, teased with the open close open close open close. Each time they opened I stood a little taller on my toes, willing them to be close to the exit. Just when I couldn’t stretch any further, I finally saw him zipping up his bag. My daddy. And then close behind, my mom. High pitched sounds and tears came out of me and I rushed forward to meet them at the gate. It was exactly like I had imagined it a million times, seeing my parents for the first time in a year and a half.

Our trip started out right with a birthday-treat-stay for Rebecca and Sarah in the ritzy (not joking, this place is fancy) Holiday Inn. Cameron was able to join us too and we celebrated in style on the rooftop bar with late night appetizers. Having all my best girlfriends and my parents together on such a gorgeous night was the perfect beginning to the incredible adventures we were about to have.

The first day was spent in Dar es Salaam, catching up on some sleep, wandering around, and going to a soccer match between Tanzania’s two national teams, Simba and Yanga. We were escorted to the game by Peter’s friend, who I’m pretty sure enjoyed the backward running-holding hands picture with my dad on our way out of the stadium more than he enjoyed the game itself.

We spent one night in Moshi, one of my favorite towns in Tanzania, before climbing in one of the most rundown-are-we-really-going-to-make-it-there taxi’s we could find for the ‘quicker, easier’ ride to Arusha. We finally made it to Arusha to start our safari after multiple police checkpoints that we barely squeaked past, my dad eating exhaust fumes coming up from the floorboards in front of him, and 5 phone calls to our Safari driver apologizing and convincing him that ‘we’re almost there, I promise!’ We met Gordon who was waiting oh so patiently for us, and after a quick stop at the enormous shoprite to get some snacks, we were on our way.

First stop. Crater forest tented lodge just outside the rim of the Ngorongoro Crater. The drive there was beautiful, we stopped at a viewpoint for Lake Manyara, and climbed higher and higher into the wall of the Rift Valley until we descended again to reach the outside of the crater. The camp was breathtaking. We took in the view from our front porch for a while before heading out on a hike through a nearby coffee plantation with a local guide. He took us by rows and rows of organic, locally grown coffee plants and into factory where the little white beans get dried, shelled, and separated by grade with a machine that is owned and operated by villagers the local Catholic mission. Dinner was amazing, 4 courses accompanied by red wine and a bon fire afterward.

The next morning we headed into the Ngorongoro crater to start our safari. The crater is beautiful with a unique ecosystem, it was formed when a giant volcano exploded and collapsed on itself 2 or 3 million years ago. Within the first few hours we saw wildebeest, zebra, elephants, hyenas, ostrich, vultures attacking a wildebeest carcass, a wildebeest get stuck in a marsh, and a ‘black rhino’ from afar (Gordon our driver said it was a black rhino, which are very rare, but I’m not totally convinced…). We took a lunch break at the lunch break spot where we could get out of the car and stretch, and eat our boxed lunches. We disregarded the warning Gordon gave us about the huge swooping crow-vultures that will attack you if you eat outside, and proceeded to eat outside…until I got attack swooped by a crow-vulture and ran screaming back into the safety of the safari car. I could hear Gordon laughing a mile away.

We pulled out of the crater after lunch and headed northwest towards the Serengeti. Less than a half hour outside the crater we saw two giraffes stretching to eat off a tree near the side of the road. Soon after that, we passed a herd of camels that looked very out of place. Gordon said they were an import animal. A few more hours of driving over volcanic ash and rock and we arrived at the Olduvai Museum, which boasts the origin of mankind and gives an introduction to the fossils, tools, and footprints that were found at the site verifying the existence of humans in East Africa 3 million years ago. Back in the car and on the incredibly bumpy, rocky, dusty road into the Serengeti. It was a long drive in, but we managed to get through the gate in time to see a mama and baby elephant, two lions perched on a boulder, and a cheetah (or a leopard I’m still not sure which is which). We made it to Kati-Kati Camp in time for one of the most spectacular sunsets I have seen thus far in Tanzania.

The next few days of safari did not disappoint. A few highlights: heading out after breakfast for a game drive and spotting three giraffes silhouetted against the morning horizon; the hyena eating a wildebeest tail while cooling off in a mud puddle; hippos playing in a pond; beautifully crooked, tall, twisted, or flat Acacia trees; a huge elephant family coming up from a marsh and slowly meandering across a field and passing between the safari cars; the dark thunderstorm we watched crawl across the plains kicking up dust in front of it as it soaked the fields and flooded the roads; white wine and laughing.

We soon moved on to Lake Natron at the foot of the Ol Doinyo Lengai Volcano, about an 8 hour drive from our camp in the Serengeti. But the scenery on the way was well worth the hours, changing from dry flat plains with small bushes, to lush forest and grassy hills about every 5 kilometers.

The Lake Natron area is in the heart of Masaai land. The Masaai are a pastoral tribe who live simply and take pride in their heritage and unique culture. A serene, quiet place, I felt like we were in bubble, so far removed from the crazy, loud, dirty world I wasn’t in a hurry to leave. I learned how to light a fire without matches, and we hiked back into a canyon covered in volcanic rock to a group of waterfalls coming out of the rock above. The hike was short but pretty challenging and our Masaai friend had to give my mom and I a hand up and over a few places. We swam for a bit, and started back down towards the camp and out of our tranquil camp and back to the real world.

A few months ago, I approached the Headmistress at our Primary School in the village about painting a World Map on the of the walls at the school. She agreed, and with the help of a few teachers, a few Peace Corps Trainees, and the adorable standard 7 students we painted the world...

After 4 months at my current site, I was still without a counterpart. I had met a few hopefuls but didn't really connect with anyone who I was excited about working with and who was worthy of receiving the prestigious title of "alli's counterpart…." It was a sunny day in the middle of May, I was walking back to my house from visiting a friend when this short guy with big ears stopped me. "Hi. My name is Msukuya, you do health stuff here right? I just got back from this seminar and was wondering if you could help me teach a few of the things I learned," he said. We sat down and he told me a little bit about the week long seminar he attended and how he wanted to start teaching at the Primary School. We got along right off the bat. He had finished Form 4 the previous year and was elected by the village government as one of two people to get involved with a local NGO working in the community. We started teaching the following week. Msukuya was a natural in the classroom and the students were captivated by him. We worked on lesson plans together and he learned to adapt his lessons for various ages and time periods. At first he refused to teach if I wasn't in the classroom with him, but after time he gained confidence and skills to work through the lessons by himself. After getting to know Msukuya's personality, his work ethic, and learning that he was involved in the drama group while he was in Secondary School, I decided to take him to Community Theater Training. He was a perfect choice, with his interest in educating the community about health issues and his outgoing personality I knew he could do great things with the skills he could learn at the training. He was a leader in the group, a natural on the stage, and kept telling me how grateful he was for the experience. Since returning from the training, Msukuya has organized a group of girls and boys to learn more about HIV and Behavior Change Communication to start teaching in our community. They call themselves the ‘Dream Campaign’ and meet twice a week. They have goals to go out and teach in schools in and around our community, and to perform in the community during World AIDS Day on December 1st. A few weeks ago he expressed interest in applying for a volunteer position at the clinic. If he was accepted he would be helping to weigh babies and work in the Maternal and Child Health clinic each day. I encouraged him to apply and he was accepted for the position. He is waiting to start but excited about the opportunity to continue educating others and volunteering his time. Msukuya is more than a co-worker, he’s one of my best friends. He can read my moods like only my mother can, he listens to my frustrations and celebrates with me when things go well. He thinks I’m a fabulous cook (which is hilarious considering he’s referring to Kraft Macaroni & Cheese), and we spend hours sometimes reading books in my courtyard. On our way to Community Theater Training I asked him why he was so interested in learning and teaching about health and volunteering in our community. He told me that out of the 9 children his mother and father had, 4 have already died of AIDS - the most recent being only last year – leaving his parents to care for 8 orphans (his siblings’ significant others had also been killed by the virus). He blinked away tears as he looked at me and said, “I just want to help it not happen to other families”. I'm not sure I’ve had much of an impact in any of his successes in these past few months. I think the support I’ve been able to provide was simply being in the right place at the right time. But I do know that without him I'd be wandering around Sepuka like the mangy dogs trying to figure out where I belong. We've helped each other to work towards our goal of improving our community and the livelihood of our villagers and I can’t wait to see what the next year has in store for us.

Sepuka was straight out of the Lion King.  I even scampered around the boulders that dot the flat landscape.  I felt like a gecko running, weaving, and jumping my way through the gigantic rocks.  The rocks I tackled by myself for low and I wasn’t able to climb to the highest points like I had imagined.  One of the evenings Alli took me up the “real Pride Rock which dwarfed the little mounds I was running on the previous afternoon and we watched the sun set.  It was absolutely gorgeous.  We descended and went back to the house and sat in the courtyard and watched the stars, seeing the stars without any light pollution is something that doesn’t happen all that often.  Even in rural Kansas you can still see a large city at 40 or 50 miles away.  The stars in the Tanzanian interior were without peer. Day to day activities during our time in Sepuka were always different and never boring.  There was constantly something to do.  One morning we spent painting the flowers off the concrete walls of Alli’s courtyard.  Another afternoon was spent watching a soccer match and playing basketball with Alli’s counterpart Msukuya and his friends.  Alli provided me with a grand tour, stopping at the small sit-downs and shops along the way.  We went into the homes of Alli’s coworkers that work at the health clinic and the primary school. I even went out and played volleyball with young men who are involved with Alli’s after work program.  She set up a daily/nightly volleyball match to keep some of the younger men out of trouble and from frittering away their money.  It was pretty awesome to see a handmade net and had chiseled dirt court and play a game (with mostly correct rules) with a group of a dozen young men.  It was even more fascinating and impressive that none of them had played the game before and this routine didn’t exist until Alli implemented the game into the town.  She created something entirely positive that was nonexistent before her arrival.  I was really proud of her and she should be proud of herself.  I attempted a “Piga Smash!” also know as a spike, but failed miserably and had the guys laughing after my whiff. We were invited to a Muslim wedding and walked a few kilometers to the married couple’s house where we posed for photos on the bed (which sounds weirder than it was…).  I asked Alli why the bride to be didn’t look to be enjoying herself – she had say on the bed dressed to the nines and looked down at her feet with a frown for the entirety of the time we were there.  Alli explained that it is customary for the bride to show no emotion on her wedding day before joy or excitement would be interpreted as expressing her eagerness to have sex with her husband.  We ate dinner with them and some of the other guests and then went on our way. The last night in Sepuka the doctor and nurses threw a party for me across the street from Alli’s house.  We spent the evening eating and drinking and dancing.  They set up a PA system and had the audio turned up to level “11” for the entirety of the evening.  The musical selection was a bit slim and being an American I think they busted out the Shania Twain cassette especially for me.  I was thrilled.  All joking aside though, a night of dancing was a great stress reliever and I completely dropped my inhibitions.  Anyone that knows me understands that I’ll occasionally get out on the dance floor, but it’s fair from one of my favorite past times.  However, on this evening I danced my little heart out until my feet hurt and my brow was covered in sweat.  There was a dance circle where we took turns strutting our stuff and at one point the doctor cleared the floor and implored Alli and I to show them how we dance in the states.  So there we were surrounded by Tanzanians as we spun about and stepped in out of beat time for a few Shania tracks – definitely not a situation that will soon be forgotten!                   The following day we loaded up and went back to Dar for the evening to meet up with Alli’s friends for cocktails on the roof of the Holiday Inn in downtown before catching a ferry for the island of Zanzibar. Zanzibar was awesome.  We snuck through security upon arrival with Alli saying something in Swahili and me attempting to hide from customs behind a post.  Somehow it worked and they were satisfied that both of us for citizens of Tanzania and I didn’t need to pay the fee for a visa.  I promptly bought a pair of impeccably crafted knock off Ray Bans and went to find our resort.  The first few days and nights we spent in relative seclusion on a self-contained resort that butted up against the Indian Ocean.  Much time was killed by the pool and chasing sand crabs (well I chased sand crabs while Alli drank margaritas by the pool…) .  We happened upon an outfit from South Africa shooting the final episode of a reality television show called “Charlie’s Cake Angels.”  Supposedly the show is supposed to be the next best thing and documents a group of women who create extravagant cakes.  Who knows, maybe we’re in the background in some of the scenes, but I can’t find any information online confirming the show even exists.  We had dinner on the beach one evening and more or less tuned out and did nothing for a few days.  It was a welcome relaxation from the hectic travel schedule.                   Zanzibar’s Stone Town district is heavily slanted toward tourism, but was really awesome.  The streets are like a labyrinth, very narrow and winding.  Many of the doors are hand chiseled and have very ornate patterns and decorations on the entire surface.  We purchased gifts for me to bring back to the states and explored.  We drank can juice and ate the catch of the day in the wharf area and watched the local island boys run and jump off the pier and dive into the bay as the sun went descended past the horizon. We visited a local watering hole called “Freddy’s.”  This wouldn’t be notable except the namesake of the bar was none other than Freddy Mercury!  The bar was decked out with photographs of the singer and it was awesome in the most ridiculous way possible.  My only regret is that I didn’t purchase a shirt as a keepsake.  We had a wonderful dinner at an Indian restaurant our last night on the island and the last night of the trip.  We sat in the upper level of the open air restaurant and took our time eating, filling the off time with conversation.  We must have been in there for 3 hours and it went by in an instant.  I feel like in the states we often rush our meals and look at dinner as a means to an end, but it was nice to just sit about and take everything in and enjoy eachother’s company. All in all it was a wonderful trip and I would encourage anyone considering traveling abroad to consider the often overlooked continent of Africa.  I can’t speak for the other countries seeing as I only visited one, but Tanzania was beautiful, cheap, and at trip I won’t ever forgot.  I’m owe a lot to Alli for her hospitality and assistance in making this trip happen. (for more pictures check out this album Alli posted on facebook….) http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.199545316761116.48473.100001169467484&l=fcc19b86c7&type=1

Anyone reading this blog post has more than likely already discovered that I went to Tanzania to visit Alli for two weeks. She’s asked me to write a guest blog post here for any followers to read. I’m fairly certain the only reason she asked me is because she knew I would say yes and she obviously isn’t doing much updating. The trip to Dar was a pain. I’m never scheduling another trip that has more layovers and changes than actual time in flight. I don’t care how “cheap” of a flight I book. I brought a wheelchair for Jemsi, a little boy with cerebral palsy whom lives next door to Alli. American Airlines and South African Aitrways were amazing in dealing with the chair through the checked luggage. I wasn't charged at all for the wheel chair and it was very oversized and not collapsible. We all constantly hear stories about airlines overcharging and being sticklers about checked luggage so I was a bit concerned that getting the chair onto the plane might be difficult. It turned out to be easier and cheaper than checking luggage. Maybe the fat cats do have a heart. However, once I arrived it was all worthwhile. I had forgotten to bring US paper currency for my visa when I arrived which forced me to wait in for almost everyone aboard my plane to be processed and then I was allowed to outside (escorted by an armed guard) to the ATM machine and currency exchange booth. That’s where I was first able to see Alli. I was drained from the flights, but in a pretty good mood – just a bit out of my element. I hardly remember the conversation we had, I’m sure it was based on getting my money and then my visa. We were able to exchange a kiss and a hug which was both amazing and awkward. I’d waited 12 months to plant one on her and yet, I wasn’t too sure that public displays of affection were allowed or commonplace in Tanzania. For a moment though, I didn’t really give a shit. Later, Alli would explain that things are much more laidback in Dar than in the rest of the country in regards to relationships and displays of affection. Fortunately I’ve never been really clingy or physical in public anyway, so this was a pretty easy social norm for me to abide by.

We made it to the hostel called the “Econo Lodge” that was situated in downtown Dar, about a 30 minute bus ride at night (without traffic) from the airport. We made it to the hostel rather easily and with little fanfare. Alli is convinced the Econo Lodge is actually the same as the U.S. chain, but I’m absolutely sure it is not. The only thing the Tanzanian Econo Lodge and the chain of “real” Econ Lodge hotels have in common are guests, cleaning ladies, beds, toilets, and showers. The last two items were reason enough for me to celebrate at the time. I had anticipated the hostel would be some sort of roach haven without any basic amenities, but those were baseless assumptions that I had crafted from my ignorance of Dar. Obviously, we weren’t staying in the Ritz, but I had no problems with our temporary digs or any other place we rested for the night throughout the remainder of the trip.

We had street food for dinner. I was hesitant to eat anything too risky because of the lack of any decent meal the prior 2 days I spent in transit. South African Airlines is a great airline – I have no gripes with them at all, but airplane food is airplane food. I ended up choosing some form of chicken wings that tasted fine, but I stared at whatever Alli ordered (some rice dish) and wished that I would have went that route. Prior to receiving our meal we were brought a basin and pitcher for us to wash our hands. I found it peculiar that one would was their hands with unclean water before eating, it seemed unnecessary. I must say the ritual of hand washing was alluring though; it didn’t matter if my hands weren’t clean by Western standards because I was in another culture experiencing the way they do things, which is a large portion of why I decided to make the trip. And seriously, how many of us wash our hands before we eat anyway?

Most of our time in Dar was spent relaxing, shopping, and eating. I was able to visit the Peace Corps headquarters/offices which was a pretty cool experience. It was here that I pieced together the wheelchair without the assistance of any hand tools which were confiscated in South Africa. I met a few ladies on the administrative staff and attempted to design a flyer for an upcoming event. Alli an her crew took me down to a shopping area that offered all sorts of amazing (presumably) handmade goods. Hopping in and out of the open air marketplace booths looking for gifts to purchase was great…for a little while. Eventually, Ben (a volunteer and friend of Alli's) and I ended up sitting on a bench waiting for the ladies to conclude their shopping adventure: Hardly any different than the cliché in the states. We ate dinner and lunch at a few sit down joints that weren't terrible but not memorable either as I can't remember what I ate or the names of the establishments. It was Alli had the 50th Anniversary of the Peace Corps banquet to attend which was a pretty important event for her and the other volunteers involved. During the time I spent alone I read a bit, journaled, and ventured a few blocks out of the Econo Lodge to try and buy cigarettes. I found myself lost rather quickly, overpaid for my smokes and had to ask about 5 different people how to get back to the hostel. The remainder of the evening I watched Al Jazeera in the lobby with some locals and relaxed in the room.

Dar was mysterious. I think that is the only way I can describe it. As a complete outsider with absolutely no Kiswahili to speak, I found the city to be a big surreal playground. I was overwhelmed the first morning after eating breakfast and wandering into the streets, but the anxiety dissipated and I was eager to explore. Fortunately Alli and her friends were there to babysit me for the entirety of my stay in Dar, otherwise I think my “exploring” would have been rather expensive and my understanding of the citizens minimized. There has to be a conduit to breakthrough the language barrier. Not only so that I don’t get ripped off on a pack of smokes, but also so I could begin to understand the Tanzanians that call Dar home. What are they doing today? What are you peddling over there? How much are those knock off Ray Bans? Where are you from? Why are you here? Is our interaction normal? What do you think of me? What are you notions of where I come from? None of those answers could be answered without the interpretation from Alli. It was great to have a tour guide that was skilled enough to help me maximize my stay. If I had gone to Tanzania without knowing the language or being accompanied by someone who knew the language then I would have done the “touristy” tour of Kilimanjaro, a safari, all the while staying in the comfort of a Holiday Inn or an overpriced all inclusive resort. These were the thoughts that were starting to form in my head as we made out way out or Dar and toward Singida, then onto the village Alli calls home. I would soon learn how completely lost I would have been without her and gained a smidgen of understanding about how difficult it must have been to try and transition into life in the interior of Tanzania alone.

I have to admit that I was a bit skeptical of what village life would be like. When I decided to make the trip and up until I arrived in Tanzania part of me thought that staying in hotels and resorts might be more comfortable or a better way to spend a vacations. I thought that maybe the trip should like a traditional R&R vacation. I was unsure how I would handle no electricity or running water and being in an unfamiliar and remote location. Those small worries of the unknown dissipated a day or two into the trip when we were in Dar. I became more eager to visit Alli's site and get out of the city. From the moment we arrived in Singida and then moved onto Sepuka I felt 100% comfortable. Every person I was introduced to in Sepuka seemed genuinely excited to meet me and great me and I have to say I shared the same enthusiasm. Alli had mentioned that the cultural norms in Tanzania were quite different than in the states when dealing with public social settings. Tanzanians are rarely outright rude or express any emotion other than happiness when greeting and making small talk. I assume a portion of the reason that I felt welcome in her village and didn't feel like and outsider was due to that, but I'm certain that the greetings and enthusiasm I encountered should be credited more so to the villagers being excited to meet someone new and to have an opportunity to share their country with me.

I suppose my assumptions and notions about village life in Tanzania were just the typical and ignorant type that most people who have no connection to a country in Africa have. I pictured hungry children with stomachs sticking out and extreme poverty. What I found wasn’t to the extreme that I anticipated. Obviously the majority of people I met in Sepuka were far from wealthy and life there doesn’t compare to what we take for granted here in the states. But, I as surprised to find far more infrastructure than I anticipated and many more smiling faces. I guess I thought it was going to be a really depressing place, but in actuality it wasn’t depressing at all. Life there is just different than what I consider normal and people make due with what they have. The juxtaposition of my life compared to their life resonated with me and put a lot of things into the proper perspective. I take many things for granted and after visiting I’ve been more aware and tried not stress of insignificant little things...

...check back next week for part 2 from ben's trip to tanzania...

As I pulled on my fanciest Tanzanian dress early yesterday morning, I tried to mentally prepare myself for what was undoubtedly going to be one of the longest days I’ve faced yet…Easter Sunday in the village. I had promised this mama that I’ve become friends with that I’d go to church with her on Easter Sunday, and since my absence had been prayed for at church the week before I thought it would be good to make an appearance. I had also convinced Carol (my devoted site-mate and sanity who teaches at the secondary school in my village about 3 km away) to come with, as I figured these things are usually better in pairs. We met at the mama’s house at 9am. Learning on the way there that it was going to be impossible to  successfully ride my bike in my flowing dress without flashing unsuspecting Tanzanians along the way, we decided to walk to 5km to the neighboring village where the Easter service was being held. We set out on the path leaving Sepuka, mama in her Sunday best, and Carol in her swearing-in outfit, and me carrying the essentials in my bag- water, granola bars, sunglasses, sunscreen, and my offering. Now, Singida gets a crap for not necessarily being the most breathtaking place in Tanzania (as we’re situated in a desert where it rains twice a week for 6 weeks out of the year,) but I guess it takes a certain appreciation of this place to really see its bush-like beauty. I for one, have grown to accept the scarce terrain, sand, dust, and thorny bushes as a unique kind of lovely, and this hike to church was all of the above. I had to stop almost every 10 feet to shake thorns out of my sandals as we crossed dried up river beds, passed fields of sunflowers, and slightly rolling hills, as the path led us into the neighboring village of Msungua. With the ‘rainy’ season just ending, the area is actually quite green with fields of tall grass and leaves on the trees, but carol warned that this was about as green as it gets, and I braced myself for the coming drought. About an hour later we arrived at the substantial German-built Lutheran church where all the neighboring Lutheran churches were gathering to celebrate ‘Pasaka’, or Easter. It was a packed house, with bikes lining the outside wall and kids chasing each other. I longed to be one of them, lucky to be young enough to have the excuse to escape from what we all knew was going to be a long service. But fortunately for us, my friend Samueli saved us seats right up in the front with the choir meaning an escape was going to be very difficult. Our seats really could have been a lot worse, we were right next to the window and could lean back against the wall behind us, so I couldn’t complain too much. The service started with each of the choirs from neighboring churches dancing and singing, our group from Sepuka being my clear favorite. The service went on with singing and dancing, announcements, praying, and more singing and dancing. At one point the pastor made a point to recognize each tribe that was present at the service, Carol and I being no exception. Then he made a quick comment that he wanted each tribe to sing their own Easter-esque song at the end of the service. We looked at each other and laughing I hid my head in the large woman’s back who was sitting in front of me. The pastor quickly moved on, I however did not. I looked at Carol and said ‘seriously?"’ she said she’d heard of Peace Corps volunteers having to do this before and didn’t seem quite as phased as me. I decided that he’d forget about it, that we wouldn’t have to do it, but in between my little naps during his sermon we brainstormed songs from church camp as kids and came up with some pretty hysterical ideas. Trying to remember the words to ‘this little light of mine', ‘he’s got the whole world in his hand's’, and a few others kept us entertained for most of the service. I purposely didn’t wear a watch for fear it would make the service feel even longer, but as I checked Carols watch and learned it had been 4 hours since the service started, I was beginning to get a little antsy. Approaching the 5th hour and assuming it had to be over soon, I though we were in the clear and had avoided our duet. I was wrong. Before I knew it we were standing in front of 300 people singing ‘Our God is an Awesome God’ and performing the appropriate signs we learned in Sunday School. We finished our second round of the chorus, which was actually the only part we knew, I gave a quick curtsy, and the crowd went wild. We took our seats, laughing, and I played the moment over and over in my head, and couldn’t wait to tell my mom and dad. I knew they’d be proud. I lasted about 30 more minutes, my granola bars had long since been devoured, and it was just time to be done. When the choirs switched we made our escape. We stopped at a milk co-op near the church and had chai and a quick snack. Had I not been completely starving, the chunky, fat saturated hot milk would have bothered me a bit more, but desperate times call for desperate measures and I downed the cup before the trek home. We got back to Sepuka around 5 in the evening, replaying the days events in my head I sat down in my favorite café and enjoyed my Easter feast of rice, beans, and orange Fanta. my counterpart Samson getting’ down with the choir our easter monday easter egg hunt. thanks for the eggs amy:)

Earlier this week one volunteer representative, deemed '”warden", from each region here in Tanzania gathered in Dar es Salaam for a two day training on the safety and security plan. Little did they know that when they selected Alli, Rebecca, Sarah, Cameron, and Duncan to represent our hoods, it can get a little crazy… It was Monday night and a bunch of us decided to go out to the mall in Dar for a little dinner and a movie. This place is incredible, and looks like it was plucked straight from suburban America, complete with a fast food restaurant called Marrybrown’s (a wannabe Wendy’s). After a fine meal of chicken sandwiches, french fries and FOUNTAIN SODA with ice cubes, I was standing in line waiting to get a brownie when it happened. Now I should mention, two people had gone to the bathroom, abandoned their belongings with me so I was not only carrying my bag, but Natalie’s purse on my shoulder, Dan’s huge backpack on my back, and his cowboy hat sideways on my head. As I was waiting in line, I noticed two fine young gentlemen sitting at a small café-type table. One was wearing a hot pink satin shirt that was unbuttoned very low with pants so white they glowed. The other was wearing a polo shirt with his collar popped and skinny jeans or something. They were both drinking oversized cappuccinos from white mugs. Now this might sound a little funny, but mind you, people that look like this don’t exist in my life. Dirty village children and saggy grandmas are all I know, and I guess I’ve been in the village for too many moons…Anyways, I guess I spent just a little too long ‘admiring’ them and how ridiculous and out of place they looked (when in reality I’m the one that looks ridiculous at this point) because when I came out of my trance and I looked up through the glass wall that separated us from the rest of the mall, Sarah and Cameron were standing outside watching me…watch them. They had long since lost it and were laughing hysterically at me, and I soon followed. As soon as I looked up and saw them laughing at me, I realized how ridiculous I probably looked, like a dirty bag lady who is in the big city for the first time and in shock at people who look like this. I started laughing and couldn’t stop, I had to remove myself from the brownie line, exit the restaurant and proceeded to squat down to keep it in until I could gather myself and stop laughing….instead, I completely peed in my pants laughing so hard. Now this isn’t the first time uncontrollable laugher has led to peeing in my pants, especially not in this country, but this time was one for the books… peace

eating mangoes with cessie while watching mama cessie get braided my neighborhood boys made me this motorbike and radio out of the clay in their fields, I also am the proud owner of a clay land rover as well. my other half. or halves. this family keeps me together:) above, elli shells rice they collected from the farm, elli and cessie study my world map, cessie gets back from the farm with jemsi on her back, mama cessie and cessie looking very sassy, on the rocks with elli and fabi, the love of my life maria me and jemsi, and mama cessie cooks vegatables Just returned from a two-day training in Dar es Salaam as new safety and security wardens in our regions, but still had time for a dance party (as usual), fast food in the mall in Dar, and chocolate ice cream all over cameron – followed by well deserved naps on the way home.

One of my favorite days in Sepuka during these first few weeks is the one where my (only) friends discovered I had a camera and took me on an incredible adventure, in my back yard. I should mention that this particular group of friends consist entirely of 13-16 year old boys…. I had just gotten back from a trip to town with Elli, my 16 year old neighbor (above, in the red shirt), when all of his friends show up at my house. Elli learned I had a camera earlier in the day when I had to charge the battery in town, and he couldn’t wait to show his friends. I taught Elli how to use it and he started teaching the others how to use it. After a series of mugshots taken in my courtyard against the bright blue wall, they asked if we could go to ____ and take pictures of the ____. Neither of these words were in my kiswahili vocabulary at this point so I really had no idea what I was getting myself into, but I was intrigued so I agreed. We walked out of our courtyard and around the side of the house, down a path through a cornfield. With visions of Children of the Corn starting to go through my head, the path opened up just in time to cut through a group of enormous boulders. I looked up at the 3 story high rocks, and then glanced behind me at Fabi, Elli’s younger brother, who just nodded his head and said, ‘yup, we’re going up there.’ The boys started running up the side of the first boulder, but Fabi (orange shirt) stayed behind to show me the easier path. There were trees growing on the side, and together with smaller rocks that lined the side getting to the top was no big deal. After stepping over the last crevice, I stood up and did a 360. The view was absolutely breathtaking. The area is mostly flat with gentle, rolling hills and during the (not-so) ‘rainy’ season, corn grew in rows that traced the curve of the land and grass poked out of dusty mounds. From the top I couldn’t believe how far I could see, a man walked along a path in between two farms that seemed miles away, and women lifted buckets on their heads, walking in a single line from the well to the path that connects to the next village. As I kept turning around and around, taking in all views, the boys had started their photo shoot. They were posing on rocks, with the soccer ball, in fighting poses they could have only learned from the generator-powered movie show each night played in the village, there were solo shots and group shots, and even a shot that will make me smile for the rest of my life… It’s kind of small, but the boy in the far back has one of his arms out of his shirt with a stone cold look on his face, pointing at the ball, the smallest boy is just holding the ball with an equally serious look on his face, and the one in the front looks like he just got to the end of a runway wearing my khanga like this seasons hottest trend. The boys said there were more, so we climbed down this one, and up the next, one of them lagging behind each time to show me the easy way up. We through around the ball, took pictures, and they were teaching me some new kiswahili words as the hours passed of climbing up and down the boulders. I was on a serious mjusi (these red and blue lizzards that live around the rocks) when I looked up and caught them in this great moment…they were completely silent, perched on this flat space watching the sunset… I was sitting behind them as the sun set, and tried to imagine being in their shoes; only 3 of them are in school, the others spend their days herding cattle and goats or working on the family farm, one earns money by delivering water jugs to houses using his prized bicycle. They love Manchester United and Jackie Chan, they’ve learned jerry-rig things you couldn’t imagine, and at the end of the day this moment and this laughter keeps carries us all through ‘til tomorrow.

Well as usual when I get around to posting, I have more to say than I can articulate. This time is no different… Jill arrived just in time for Christmas, as she was delayed for about a week due to the storms in london or something. She got in late on christmas eve and was the best christmas present ever. We spend christmas in dar, then headed south to stay in my village for a while. It was so amazing having someone from home experience a piece of my life here with me, and showing her my village was so fun. We spent the majority of the days running a makeshift daycare, and between the soccer ball she brought me and the coloring book I found in dar, we were quite the entertainers. Only a few days had passed when we were caught in a ‘safety and security’ issue. After a few days in Songea with the lovely ms. veronica, we left for dar to sort out some details. Jill was able to continue on her trip, and a few days later she left for Malawi to visit another Peace Corps friend, then on to Zimbabwe and South Africa. She left in the one bus line she had heard interesting things about, but (eventually) made it safely:) I remained in Dar while peace corps continued to check on the situation in my village. On January 4th I was informed that I had two options – to take an interrupted service and return to America, or transfer to a different village, returning to my village was not an option. I was absolutely heartbroken. I had dug my heels in there, formed amazing relationships and started projects with motivated people who wanted to improve their lives and the lives of others. I remained in denial for a good amount of time and tried time and time again to convince peace corps that it was fine and I needed to go back. Being the incredible staff that they are, they provided continuous support to me, communicated with my villagers, and listened to everything I had to say. In the end they stood their ground. I asked if it would be okay for me to visit the new site before making a decision and I soon left for a short visit to get more information. The village was Sepuka, about 35 km outside of the town of Singida in central-ish Tanzania. I traveled with Cessie, another volunteer headed back to her site, also right outside of Singida. On the bus headed to Singida she mentioned that it looks a lot like something straight out of The Lion King. She was absolutely right. Huge boulders spot the dry, flat landscape, as grass peeks out of the dirt during the present ‘rainy’ season. Another great friend, Duncan, met me in Singida determined to keep me in Tanzania. We took a bus out to Sepuka the next day and after getting dropped off at the health clinic where I’d live, we spent a good part of the afternoon trying to figure out where the ‘village’ actually was. We eventually found the village center, got lunch and tried meeting some people to get a feel about how it would be. The people weren’t hostile by any means, but they were less welcoming than I would have liked. The area was also so remote, with houses spread in between farms and fields. It couldn’t have been more different that Ngadinda. I left there a little disheartened but after many pep talks from my incredible friends here, and the support of my friends and family back home, I decided to make the move to Sepuka. Still very much in denial about the fact that I was having to leave Ngadinda, and realizing traveling back to my village to pack my things and say goodbye in the 3 hour time frame I was given was going to be too much for me. Enters Sarah. She met me in dar, and endured the long ride down to Songea with me. She held my hand, laughed with me and cried with me as I had to break the news to my Mama, Baba, and closest friends in the village. The dreaded day went as well as it could have, my family, neighbors and friends reassuring me that I’d come to love my new village just as much, had a few laughs, and told me that I better come visit. With my return trip planned for April, we piled in the car and pulled out. With the events of the past 4 weeks still swirling in my head, and feeling fairly emotionally exhausted, I arrived in Sepuka the following monday, January 24th to start all over again. I moved into a duplex shared by a nurse, her 4 kids, and her house girl. The house is much smaller than my old place, and I have virtually no privacy, which I’m learning I really don’t mind so much. I’m trying not to fall in love with Maria, my neighbor’s house girl, the 5 year old boy with cerebral palsy she takes care of, or the 3 other children - a losing battle I’ve all but surrendered to. I’ve always loved being around people and in this particular situation I’m not keen on hanging out by myself all the time. My new family consists of a 20 year old house girl, Maria, and the four neighbor kids she looks after, Elias (16), Fabia (13), Cesie (8), and Jemsi (5). We all make up a pretty hilarious clan. I’ve wandered around the village a few afternoons, meeting people and getting used to the surroundings, and am still undecided about how I feel about starting work all over again. It seems like an overwhelming task to have all those meetings again, and ask all those questions again, but having done it once and with much better kiswahili skills this time, I’m hoping the process is sped up a bit. Well that’s quite the update. Be rest assured (grama and grampa) that I’m safe and that peace corps did a great job of responding to the situation and taking care of me and listening to my needs. I’ll post pictures of the new village soon, but in the mean time, here’s my family portrait of me with my mama and baba from Ngadinda. I maybe miss them more that my real mom and dad… Until next time, peace

After being in Tanzania for 6 months now, a lot has changed. Not only can I eat ugali on a regular basis without wanting to scratch my eyeballs out, I can kill spiders the size of my hand, wash my clothes with only two buckets of water, and enjoy bathing by moonlight. I can get through conversations in Swahili, hold a village World Aids day, facilitate a village meeting, and weigh babies at the clinic. I've formed lifelong relationships not only with other volunteers, but with my neighbors in the village, who've provided me with food, family, and more laughter than I could have ever imagined. I'm figuring out what gets me through the hard times, and I'm learning that it's not a trip into town for a cold soda, but a walk down the road to sit with Mama Joshua to cook and just sit. Although at times I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing there, or how to get through an afternoon in extreme heat in another language, at the end of the day when I can look back at the lessons learned and taught, and the laughs I've shared with my villagers whom I didn't even know as of 3 months ago, I'm happy.

We just finished a 2 week training that Peace Corps calls 'In-Service Training', or IST. It takes place after the group of volunteers has been at their site for the first 3 months, in our case we all ventured to Morogoro from our various villages and were so excited to be all together again. There are still 39 of us as health volunteers or environment volunteers, and we're as close as we are strong. The training meant not only to provide an outlet for sharing experiences, hardships, and successes of these first challenging months at site, but gives us a little more technical training on topics such as safe motherhood, chicken projects, grant writing, project design and implementation, language, and making fuel efficient stoves, just to name a few. The second week of the training our counterparts joined us in Morogoro, the person we've chosen from our village to be our sidekick (or sanity) in projects and other work in the village. They learned about Peace Corps, it's history and purpose, sustainability, culture, HIV/AIDS, and how to effectively work with us and support us as facilitators in our villages. I brought my Baba to IST who really is my sanity and my stronghold in my village. He 'gets' me better than anyone, can read my moods and help me get things done. He is incredibly hardworking and respected, and even stands up for me when my mama keeps trying to feed me sardines and village meat. We had great conversations about things he was learning about Peace Corps, understanding my job better, and got really excited about the HIV/AIDS session and says he wants to start teaching about HIV in the village. We devised a plan for the next three months and talked about other potential projects.

All in all IST was amazing, we got to hang out with all of our friends for 2 whole weeks, shared about everything that's going on with us, receiving and trying to give advice, spend way to much money and time at the e-Bar, dance parties that lasted for hours, and were also able to refocus our purpose and get prepared to get down and dirty with some work in the village.

On another note, I'm currently in Dar es Salaam waiting for the arrival of Jill! who is stranded in Ireland or something. I can't wait to show her my life here and I'm sure she'll have some great stories when she comes back! Word is also that she's bringing a video camera so I'll be sure to post some videos too.

One more thing...I remember laughing at people who shared how bizarre it was to go into a grocery store for the first time after spending the last however many months buying food out of a wood cart or a shack, and now I can say that it really was as horrible as they described. I got so freaked out by all the cereal in an aisle and different cheeses that was in a refrigerated case that I actually had to leave the store, the only purchases I was able to go through with were a diet coke and a pack of gum.

merry christmas and happy new year!

me and my baba after a session at IST

since my last post, a couple of actually productive things have gone down...

I had just returned to my village from a lovely, mellow weekend called 'songea-fest' with a few other peace corps volunteers, when i was stopped by one of the nurses in my village to say hello. I mentioned to her during our conversation that I was wondering when the next HIV/AIDS group meeting was going to be since I heard there was such a group already formed in the village. She made a quick phone call and within seconds a meeting between me and the chairperson for the group was set up for the following morning at 9am. Unfortunately adapting to Tanzanian time, I was just finishing chai and planning on heading over to the clinic between 9 and 10, when Detrik showed up at my house at 8:45. He apologized for being early (words that tanzanians don't ever speak, because it doesn't ever happen...) and I welcomed him and said I'd be ready soon. oops. I began to dawn on me how important this meeting was to him and that he had probably been waiting for me since I arrived in the village to ask to meet with him since the meeting was set up so last minute and being early to the meeting, he was clearly eager for some help. We walked over to the clinic and met up with one of the nurses to start the meeting. For almost the next two hours my head spun. The amount of information about the needs and problems with these groups in the communities combined with Detrik's aspirations and vision for the group were enough to overwhelm me to tears as soon as I walked out of the office. I was glad that there is already a group in place, not surprised to hear that they don't really meet or do anything, and excited to hear how excited Detrik was to start projects and educating villagers. He is also the chairperson of the orphans group, and the sole member of the HIV home-care group (goes around helping to care for people who are suffering from HIV). He struggles to take care of 15 pigs that the government donated to the orphans group, they lack funds to pay for food, and it is physically impossible for him to get enough water for them. It didn't take long to realize that he's been waiting years for someone to come along and help him. He has a vision for what the groups will do, what their meetings will look like, and what he wants to teach villagers about HIV, he just needs a little organization, guidance, and help motivating the other group members. His ideas and goals are quite lofty, but he definitely has them and I think for the first time I got a good idea about my purpose here in the village. He openly shared about his own struggles with HIV, and about his brother dying with HIV. We talked about where to start, and agreed that meeting with the other members of the group would be a good start. We set up a meeting for sunday afternoon at my house.

On sunday I cooked banana bread while we waited for the group members to show up. We agreed to meet at my house because they felt more comfortable and less exposed about their HIV status. Eventually about 6 people showed up. I was so excited, Detrik clearly disappointed about his groups comittment. We ate the top half of the banana bread (while one of the women insisted on scraping off the burnt bottom and eating that...) while discussing the group, why they meet, what they do, where and when they meet, and what they want help doing or what they need. It took a few hours but I learned a lot about those members and we agreed to start doing basic HIV/AIDS education for the group members. Detrik joined a national organization that hosts conferences about twice a year and he agreed to teach what he's learned at those. Our next meeting is this coming sunday. I feels good to feel like I have a bit of a purpose other than just practicing swahili and fetching water, but I plan on starting slow and doing a little at a time at first while we're still re-organizing.

The following day I had my first meeting with the villagers. I'm following a plan given to us by Peace Corps to help learn about the village and get villagers to think about their resources, daily activities, and what their needs might be. The first meeting is a community mapping meeting where we simply draw a map of the community. Sounds simple huh? Well the meeting was set to start at 9am, so about 11am right before I'm about to lose it because not a single person has showed up yet, villagers started trickling over. We waited a few more minutes to start, but by about noon there were well over 100 people there. My baba helped me explain the purpose of the meeting and how we were going to split into two groups, men and women, to draw the maps. I asked them to include things such as the school, shops, water pumps, churches, etc, and handed out a piece of flipchart paper and markers to each group. Both groups started by drawing sketched in the dirt, then started practicing on smaller paper. There were too many people for everyone to participate, but it was great to see people get involved discussing and learning about their own village. After almost 4 hours of sketching, practice maps, and a final draft on flipchart paper, both groups were done. I asked one man and one woman to present their maps, which were both very different from each other. We then discussed the differences and similarities between the maps and why that might be. The women's map was much less detailed and didn't include the local bars that the men's map did. People said they thought this was because the women spend a lot of their time in the home, taking care of the children and working around the house while the men are out wondering around and seeing more of the village. This among other discussion topics were so exciting for me because it got the villagers to start talking about the gender differences between the men and women in the village. The next few meeting I have will build more on gender differences. At the end of the meeting I asked what people learned from this activity, and hands shot up, talking about how they learned how to draw a map, learned some history of the village and where a few things were that they had heard about but had never visited. I was so excited that it seemed like this activity was worthwhile, and that the villagers were participating and taking it seriously. Everyone has been so supportive and excited to help me, I truly feel luck to live, work, and do what I can to help the people that live here. Here are a few pictures from the mapping meeting...

In the next few weeks I look forward to another HIV group meeting where Detrik starts teaching, and my second village meeting. Also still trying to settle into my house that feels like a cement box, and working on my swahili...keep the emails and letters coming, I love hearing about what you are all up to!

Well it has been a long time since you all last heard from me and I'm oh so sorry. Everytime I sat down to write a blog post I didn't even know where to start, so I just didn't. ha. But now I swear to you my faithful followers that I will do better!

It's been about 5 weeks now since my welcoming party on August 21st. I've been settling into my new life slowly but surely - setting up my house, eating with neighbors, visiting the primary and secondary schools, practicing my new language and hopelessly searching for anyone who speaks english (no such luck yet...), hanging out with the nurses at the clinic, and my favorite pasttime: watching regular soccer games in the center of my village.

I love my village. It's on the main road to Songea, and only about an hour or two outside of town. After debarking from the daladala (amazing van that can somehow hold and infinate amount of people, I counted almost 40 in one last weekend, with actual seats for about 15) in Ngadinda, you see the pool table and duka la dawa (medicine shop) to the right, and follow the main path back towards the village center. One thing I like about my village is how centralized it seems. After following the path lined with homes back about 5 minutes you see the primary school on the right and the health clinic on the left. My house is just behind the clinic and was actually built for the doctor, but they were transfered out of the village years ago and now there isn't a doctor. A good amount of my villagers actually think I'm the doctor, which I can see how they would get that idea, but has led to a few very confusing conversations in which I've been asked to deliver babies or treat a child's burns. Anyways, following the main path still, just after the clinic and school there are two main water pumps, the village leaders "offices", followed by the regulation sized football field and a very german style catholic church. There are about 3,000 people in the village, and the houses spread far, for almost 3 km in every direction from this central part. The village is split into 8 neighborhood/settlements, and I'm working on visiting all of them by the end of the month, 3 down so far.

So my first week in the village was a lot of meeting neighbors, figuring out how to get water, what food is available in my village, and plenty of "what in the world am I doing here??". My VEO (village executive officer, aka Mama Mango) and her husband have taken me under their wing and wouldn't let a day go buy without feeding me massive amounts of ugali (corn flour stirred aggressively into boiling water - google it) and trying to figure out why I keep refusing meat? hmm maybe it's because Tanzanians like eating fat and sucking on bones? They still don't understand and I think they believe everyone in america doesn't eat meat. Sorry about that one. I did my best to explain! There isn't a great variety of food available in my village. Mostly rice, beans, ugali flour, cassava, some tomatoes and small onions. I can also get eggs and little candies at the duka (shop). In town (Songea) I can get carrots, green peppers, spices, apples, oranges, and the occassional avocado which makes me extremely happy. There are mango trees everywhere in my village and word on the dirt path says they start to show up around december.

My Swahili is coming along, it's hard to tell if I'm making progress, but I'm learning new words every day. I carry around a little notebook and my dictionary with me everywhere, looking up and writing down vocabulary and making flashcards (that I haven't actually used yet, but I do make them!) Sometimes I shock myself when whole sentaces come out and the person on the other end actually understands. Those are very happy moments. Like I said, I have yet to find anyone in my village who speaks English, which can lead to very long, exhausing, and sometimes frustrating days of piecing together conversations. There are a few people who know some English vocabulary, and one guy whose english is about like my swahili, so he helped me at a meeting last week. There are a few teachers at the secondary school who speak beautiful english, but it's about 4 kilometers outside my village and they all live at the secondary school. I get along with a few of those teachers really well and am excited to work with them (eventually) teaching life skills at the school. I can't wait for the day where this lovely language flows effortlessly out of me, but until then I'm stickin with the people who speak slow and have the patience to watch me look up words.

So what's a day in the life of Alli in a rural african village look like at this point? Well I'll tell you. The primary school bell rings every half hour starting at 6:30 am which is the most obnoxious alarm clock. Wait, I take that back. The roosters are the worst alarm clock. At least the bell is predictable. I usually roll out of bed around 8 and light the coals to boil water for oatmeal and tea. If i'm not interupted by the swarms of students running by my house, I can usually manage to hide in my house and read until around 10am. Then I wander out waiting for a neighbor, mama mango, or one of the nurses to invite me to chai. I think it's a good way for me to get out of my house, socialize with people, and get chai usually accompanied by boiled cassava, sweet potatoes, or andazi (kind of like a plain donught maybe?). I wander around some more, greeting people with the plethera of greetings this culture employs, maybe hang out at the pool table next to the road, or sit at the mghawa (cafe) and help my (only) friend cook. Then sometimes she feeds me, or I go home to cook rice and beans followed usually by a nap. After my brain has recovered from a morning of swahili, I venture back out to meet more people and just try to stay busy. My Baba (my african daddy) has been taking me to visit different "neighborhoods" in the village and introducing me to people. He has been so helpful in helping me adjust and get to know my surroundings, making me feel at home, telling me who certain people are, and making me laugh. He is an amazing man, he speaks such great swahili with me, is patient, and is clearly respected in the village yet is very humble. My daddy away from home (but no replacement dad, don't worry:)) My villagers have caught on to how much I love watching the village soccer league and come to get me if there is ever a game, or even a practice. My VEO sets up a chair for me in front of her house so I have a front row seat. At the very beginning it was actally a great way for me to get out of hiding in my house and be seen by my villagers without having to talk a whole lot which I was fine with by the end of the day. More recently I've been spending more evening time at home, cooking or reading, and more time during the day out of my house getting to know people. At night I also use my charcoal jiko (stove) to heat up water for a bucket bath (which should probably be happening more frequently than it does...) and am dead asleep by 9pm if I can.

I would like to close this entry with a few things that I love about Tanzania so far: the endless amusement second hand t-shirts from America bring me, one of my favorites thus far has been a purple taco bell uniform. Also, laughing. I know they are mostly laughing at me, but it helps that I'm also good at laughing at me. I am well aware that carrying a 20liter bucket of water on my head is hilarious (and no fun at all) and gladly make light of it by stopping to do a little jig while walking past groups of women peeing themselves with laughter.

So three and a half months down, and a long ways to go, but I'm starting to feel more comfortable in my village and am excited to start my first meetings this week. Although I absolutely have days where I consider going home just because I could get ice cubes there, at the end of the day (well, most of them) I'm feeling good about being here.

Until next time, look out for rats falling from the ceiling as you squat on the choo, those things are rutheless...

a few more pictures...this is a group shot from swearing in, my first peek of my house a few weeks ago when i was shadowing amanda (lives in the neighboring village), me and amanda, and my welcoming party last saturday in my village...

So this is the only way i can figure out how to post pictures right now because they won't upload to facebook.... they are in no particular order, i apologize for that, but they are from training, homestay, swearing in ceremony, and of some of my new friends!

August 2. 2010. This is quite the task. Sum up my first six and a half weeks living in Africa in a blog. But I am able to handle just about anything at this point so here goes.... We are still in training right now. Currently I am shadowing a Peace Corps volunteer who has been in country for a year in order to get an idea of what it’s like to be a PCV and meet other volunteers. It's been such a nice break from training and I got the special treat of shadowing in the village next to the village I'll be living in for the next 2 years! My lovely neighbor-to-be Amanda is hosting a few of us at her beautiful house showing us around her village, teaching us how to cook such great food with local ingredients and giving us tips about village life in the Peace Corps. We’ve also been hanging out with a few other Peace Corps Volunteers who live in the region and I’m so excited to live here and work (and play) with these wonderful people! Yay for Kelly, Amanda, Erica, Jack, and Bill! So the past 6 weeks we've been living in the Muheza district near the city of Tanga. It's in northeastern Tanzania - check it out on a map. We're split into small groups called Community Based Training(CBT) groups. There are 5 people in my group and we live a village called Bagamoyo. The first few weeks of training we met every day in a room of one of the houses and learned Kiswahili all day. The amount we learned in 3 weeks was incredible and equivalent to a six month language course, which was so helpful but no match for the regular communication breakdowns and language barriers. For the past few weeks we've been meeting together as a whole training class (there are 40 of us!) and having technical training about what we are going to be doing at our sites. For most of our technical sessions they split us into health and environment groups. As health volunteers we've been learning about HIV/AIDS, Malaria, teaching primary health care, nutrition, water borne diseases, health care in Tanzania, and so so much more. There is so much to learn about the language, culture, and our technical tasks that 9 weeks is no where near enough time to figure out what in the world we're supposed to do. But the goal is not to teach us everything, but to give us an idea of where to start. As health and environment volunteers we don't have structure like the education volunteers teaching in the schools everyday, but our job is to assess what the village needs and wants are and create projects that help villagers help themselves. Some health volunteers work with womens groups creating income generating projects such as making soap, bags, or starting small businesses. Other volunteers have created HIV/AIDS support groups, or are working with Orphans and Vulnerable Children (OVCS) and out of school youth. There is so much flexibility in what we can do, and it all varies from village to village depending on what the needs of the village are. But that's enough about the unpredictible future, how about some more info on what's happening now... For training like I said, I'm living in the village of Bagamoyo with the Masawe family. I have a Mama, Baba (dad), two Kaka (brothers), and one Dada (sister). Baba's name is Prosper (age 40 something), Mama is Majube (age maybe 40?), my Kakas are Matei (age 2) and Karoli (age 7), and my dada is Rizeiki (age 11). I also have a wonderfully entertaining Bibi (grama, age unknown but definitely up there) who is always apologizing to me for some reason and who I taught how to play frisbee. It was a rough start, as you can imagine it would be moving into a family's house who speaks a completely different language with a very different way of life. We worked it out, I am able to communicate a little bit better now and they know me know so everything is great.

Our daily routine consists of me waking up at approximately 6am when Martinez my bat enters the room. He flaps around eating mosquitos and is a very effective alarm clock. After he settles in his corner and I feel it safe to exit my mosquito net without being attacked, I walk around my house greeting my family (greetings are very important in Tanzania culture, sometimes greetings alone can take up 5 minutes per person and consist of a Shikamoo given to everyone who is older than you which means “I take your feet”, how did you wake, how did you sleep, whats the news, how is your morning, how is your farm, how is your house, how is your family, and so on. Many classes were devoted solely to greetings...). After the greetings my mama gives me warm water to take a bucket bath with. I am now able to bathe with less than 10 liters of water each time, for some reason I am required to bathe twice a day and when you do the math it ends up being about a 400% increase from how many times I bathed in the states. So after my morning bucket bath I sweep my room and have chai with my mama. She makes me tea every morning along with 2 chapati (kind of like flatbread) or Mandazi (fried bread triangles). I head out around 730 picking up Lauren who lives closest to me and we meet up with Tala, Katie, and Kenzie to either have class in Bagamoyo or go to MATI where all of the groups come together for those technical sessions. After school we head back to Bagamoyo and either study or take walks to our secret hide out behind the church. I usually go back to my house around 630, hang out with my family or study. Most recently a coloring group has started in the evenings due to the wonderful gift of markers my family sent me. There are about 10 kids who sit on our front porch drawing pictures of houses, cars, people, tracing their hands, flowers, or drawing pretend sunflower tattoos on their arms and/or legs. Oops. My mama gives me more water to take another bucket bath, we eat around 8, watch the moon for a while because I continue to freak out about how beautiful it is every night, and I go to bed tucking myself inside my net and blowing out my lantern. Its amazing the things that are normal and a part of my everyday life. From using a choo (squat toilet) and learning to shine my lantern into the choo at night to scare away the cockroaches before I enter, to having a pet bat, boiling water to drink, eating rice and beans twice a day, spending time with amazing Tanzanians who are wonderful, peaceful, welcoming, and happy despite living in poverty day in and day out, and watching the sun rise and set every day. I taught my dada how to blow kisses and we blow each other kisses all the time. My kaka (matei, the 2 year old) has a really big problem with my cat climbing into my lap and will repeatedly remove her by her head and throw her on the ground, only to have her crawl back on my lap and the cycle begins again sometimes lasting for 30 minutes. It’s hilarious. Being immersed into a culture so different from ours has and will continue to be an amazing experience. Learning a new language, beautiful traditions, distinct gender roles, how to dress and interact with people, how to use local resources, and what not to do when the village guards are training are only a few of the things I’m starting to figure out. After we return from shadowing we have a few more days in our homestays before we say goodbye to them, take our final oral proficiency test and swear in as Peace Corps Volunteers on August 19th. After that we are sent all over Tanzania to our villages and begin our two year service at our sites. We got our sites last week, I am placed in the Rumuva District in the southern highlands. The closest larger city is called Songea my village is called Ngadinda which is just north of Songea and about 10km from Amanda’s village. I was able to get a sneak peak of my site yesterday since I’m shadowing at Amanda’s (I’m the only volunteer who got to shadow near their siteJ). We visited my house which is beautiful and walked around the village a little bit. The health clinic is basically in my front yard, the primary school is around the corner from that, and just beyond the primary school is a huge soccer field and really nice church. I met a few of the village officials, and it took a ton of pressure and stress off of that initial drop at my site. I am so excited to settle down there in a few weeks and start to figure out where I fit in to life in Ngadinda. I will post a new address when I get settled, until then hold off on all of those letters and packages. I will also update a list of things I might need or want from the states. Getting mail is something that might end up keeping me sane, so please don’t hesitate to send some love! Hope you enjoy these few pictures of my life at home in Bagamoyo...A family picture, me with my dada and two kakas, the loves of my life Sarah and Rebecca, and my coloring group...(the video won't load, sorry!) Love you all!

The Masawe Family!

Me and rizeiki, matei, and karoli

This is my coloring group...we're still learning how to use markers....

Me (looking very native) and Rebecca sitting and Sarah standing in a ridiculous fashion behind us. (at MATI)Me with the neighbor kids, practicing taking pictures... and yes, my friend Sativa cut my hair!

After 9 months of anticipation, weeks of goodbyes, and 18 hours on a plane, I finally made it to Peace Corps Tanzania. Our staging event was in Philadelphia where we went over some general expectations and rules about Peace Corps. It was nice to be with the whole group to travel over here, we all learned that we had very similar anxieties and it was good to be with a group who was going through the same things. There are 41 total people in our group - 25 health volunteers and 16 environment volunteers. We got into Dar es Salaam in the evening of June 16th, were herded into buses and headed for the Msimbazi center. It's basically a hostel/college run by nuns who have crazy parties on saturday and sunday nights. We started sessions (classes) right away on Thursday morning. Our classes are pretty general at this point, focusing on Tanzanian culture, Peace Corps goals and expectations, some Kiswahili lessons, safety and security, what to expect at homestay, and introductions of our training staff. There are 29 PC Tanzania staff, and only 4 of them are American. It's so great to be learning from Tanzanians who are excited to have us here and want to help us succeed. If I've learned one thing so far (and it's not much swahili), I've learned that Tanzanians are the most kind, welcoming, funny people I've ever met. They mentioned to us in one of our sessions that although the police don't have a strong presence or role in dealing with crime or things of that nature, that Tanzanians will do anything they can to protect us and take care of us if we integrate well into their community. This mostly means learning the language (or at least enough to partake in the 5 minute initial greeting of a collegue, friend or family member) and being culturally appropriate with dress and social norms. Our sessions so far have been great in helping us get a start on understanding these things. On wednesday we move 5 hours north to the town of Muheza where we'll spend 9 weeks in Community Based Training. We are divided into small groups, there are 5 girls in my group, and we'll be living in the same village right outside the main town for the duration of training. We'll each be living with a Tanzanian family who has volunteered to take us into their home as one of their children. Our mama's and baba's will teach us to cook, do laundry, chores, kiswahili and other culture norms among many other things I'm sure. From what I've heard it is extremely awkward for a good amount of the time, as we're trying to communicate and understand each other. I've also learned that Tanzanians like to laugh at just about anything we do, so at least there's a lot of humor going on because it's going to be ridiculous. I'm really excited about homestay and can't wait to meet my family - I just hope my Kiswahili really picks up or we could have some seriously long days of staring at each other. The schedule during training consists of classes with our Language/Culture Facilitators during the day in our village, monday through thursday, and whole group sessions on fridays. I'm not exactly sure what the main town of Muheza is like or how often we go into town, but I'm hoping to get a cell phone within the next couple of weeks. It sounds like our internet access will be minimal during training, but I'll update when I can. I'm having such an amazing time here so far with these phenominal people in AFRICA! There are people from all over the country who come with such diverse experiences and backgrounds. We were talking tonight how we can't believe it was only a week ago that we all met, everyone is great and we get along so well. Side notes: - I learned how to take a shower using only 5 liters of water in a bucket. - I have 21 mosquite bites, all from the knees down. -If you're thinking about sending packages or love notes, we can recieve mail here in Dar for the next 6 months; Alli Jones US Peace Corps PO Box 9123 Dar es Salaam, Tanzania Some mailing tips we've received include writing "school supplies," "Religious Materials" or "jesus loves you", etc on the outside of a package to scare away customs agents from rummaging through stuff. They also said that if you're sending something that they might want to keep, to use creative packaging like hiding it in a tampon box or somthing of that nature. Please send me things if you can - I would love to get mail especially with such limited access to communicating with you guys. Letters would be great:) Well I'm going to climb under my mosquito net and get some sleep... usiku mwema! (good night!)

Packing list. Here's what I brought with me. Requirements: 2 checked bags under 80 lbs total, 1 carry on - not impossible. In the 50+10 Deuter backpack: Sleeping bag Top/flat sheet Headlamp Raincoat Tampons 1 thin fleece 1 nike half-zip 1 long sleeved shirt 6 "blouses" (whatever that means) 3 t-shirts 3 tank tops (recommendation: get the ones that have the bra on the inside to hold money for security purposes) 1 pair jeans 2 shorts to sleep in 4 skirts (mid-calf/ankle length to be culturally appropriate) 2 pairs loose/baggy capris (1 is quick-dry material) 2 long (loose fitting) pants (wish I would have brought leggings to wear under my Kanga) 10 undies, 6 pairs/socks ihome portable speakers for ipod In the small duffel bag: 4 books bike helmet with flames on it (you can get kicked out if you're caught riding a bike without one: no joke) presents for host family (puzzle, braclets, cheap girly hair stuff, coloring pads, crayons: I'm planning on getting a Kanga for my host mama and a knife for my host baba) 78 kashi granola bars (thanks kath) quick dry travel towel toiletries: toothbrush, toothpaste, 3 bars soap, deoderant, sunscreen, floss, q-tips, nail clippers, tweezers, advil, hydrocortozone cream that doesn't work, 1 shampoo, small bottle of all purpose laundry soap, dish detergent (good for washing essential items before going to homestay) diva cup (good alternative to tampons) batteries small alarm clock small cutting board, skillet, kitchen knife small notebooks (wish I would have brought flashcards) lots of pictures of friends & family pens, sharpies (wish I would have brought markers and highlighters) bug spray that doesn't work shoes: chacos, rainbow, toms, running shoes (for all of the running I do) outlet converter (here they have both British and Europe outlets) leatherman multitool In the Mountainsmith carry on: Netbook (probably about half of our group brought computers, but I'm glad I did) Camera journal book playing cards, uno, skip-bo ipod nalgene travel pillow strapped to the outside thanks to Jeff's bungee cords swahili dictionary What i've bought here so far: larger spiral notebook peanut butter 3 Kangas (large pieces of fabric used as skirts or can be turned into dress/shirt/anything) lock for luggage more q-tips toilet paper I cannot believe it all fit and I was way under weight limit. Also, PC gave us a ridiculous first aid kit including anything medically you could ever imagine needing (plus mosquito netting.) They also took us into the market on our 4th day here to get things in case we had run out or forgot something important. I was pretty proud of the packing job, couldn't have done it without input from other Peace Corps blogs and tips from family and friends who had traveled to africa, thanks!

Well tomorrow is the big day. Here's a quick itinerary for the next few days:

Monday -

Leave Minneapolis at 7am, headed for Philly

Everyone else in the group headed for Tanzania meets up here. We'll do an orientation/shots/last minute paperwork and stay here Monday night.

Tuesday -

Leave for JFK airport, flight is at 6pm headed for Zurich, Switzerland.

From Switzerland we fly to Nairobi, Kenya then take a small plane to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania!

Wednesday -

Arrive in Tanzania in the evening and have a welcoming party!

We'll spend about a week in Dar es Salaam at a hostel while learning some emergency Swahili and more orientation info. From Dar we move to the northeast region on Tanzania called the Tanga region where each of us will live with a host family for 9 weeks while taking part in Peace Corps training. This takes me up to mid-August when we are sworn in as Peace Corps volunteers and move to our assignments (we find out our locations during training.) I'll be doing health education, HIV/AIDS awareness and education with local government, schools, and health centers and want you to stay updated on my journey!

You've probably noticed that I have a new email address, allimjones@gmail.com

And we have an address in Dar for the first 3 months, after that depending on where my location is, this address might change,

send things to:

Alli Jones

US Peace Corps

P.O. Box 9123

Dar es Salaam, Tanzania

They recommend that you "school supplies" or bible verses on the box because it scares people away from rummaging through it. Hilarious.

That is all for now. Hope you are enjoying your summer and keep in touch!

It's been over a year since I first began the application process and I still feel like this is all happening to someone else. I have two weeks left in the states before heading over to Tanzania to begin my Peace Corps service. I will be in Africa for the next 27 months working as a Health Educator. I'll be doing HIV/AIDS awareness and education in schools and health centers, trying to learn Swahili, and getting used to a life without diet coke (among other things.)

If you have a chance, look up some info about Tanzania. It is located in East Africa with the Indian Ocean to the east, Lake Victoria to the north, Mt. Kiliminjaro and the Serengheti plains stretching out over the northern region. Tanzania is a very stable and safe county (I promise, Grampa), although very poor and devastated by the effects of HIV/AIDS. I am so excited that my dream to travel and work in Africa is finally a reality and hope you'll check back for updates!