Booga-booga talk and African Rum

Thursday, February 17, 2005
Booga-booga talk and African Rum

Thursday, February 17, 2005
I woke up to the sound of African children going to school outside my window. They are laughing and talking in Swahili, and mixed with the roosters, it is the alarm clock that I have become accoustomed to here. This morning, we were all quiet as we rode to work. Between the big field trip yesterday, and the trip to the local pub for dancing that some of the younger volunteers took last night, we are all pretty beat. I was hoping for a quiet day at Kilamahewa, but the joke was on me! There was a cool breeze blowing, and for the first time since I have arrived, it was not unbearably hot. As a result, the kids were wild!! If I didn’t know better, I would think that they had all had Frosted Flakes for breakfast! The morning passed quickly in a whirwind of ABS’s, 123’s, and teacher’s cries of ,”put that down, stop hitting him and turn around forward in your seat!”. I will say…. I loved every minute of it!
I was hoping to go to the orphanage today, but we have three classes in a row this afternoon. All of these ‘cultural enrichment classes’ will be over next week, so hopefully I can go then! After lunch, the heat settled in thickly and we struggled to keep our eyes open for a lecture on ‘Gender roles in Tanzania’. I was exhausted, but the lecture was in no ways boring! When the roles of men and women here are described to us, we are told that the woman is in charge of everthing that has to do with the home. That includes, but is not limited to, cooking, cleaning, gathering all water, (sometimes as much as a two day walk from the home), feeding, birthing and cleaning up after all livestock, selling vegatabels for money, managing the home finances, shopping, caring for the sick, and, ahem, all conjugal rights that the man expects.
(Now some of you are saying, “Man, that is just like here in the U.S.”, but let me tell you, this is no joke! I have never seen anyone work this hard, ever!!)
When I asked what the man does, I was told that he MIGHT have a job. If not, he just lounges. We see a lot of this here….women working their fingers to the bone and men sitting in the bars drinking beer. If a woman cooks one pound of meat, the man gets half, and the rest is divided by the woman and all of the children.
The women here are proud, beautiful and strong, and all I have to say is that if women’s liberation ever comes to Tanzania, these men better watch out! Things are getting better for women here, though. FGM, female genital mutilation, or as it is better known, female circumcision, is becoming rarer in the cities, and education for young girls is becoming more easily available. However, times change very slowly here. When I asked why most of the women that we meet are quiet and meek, but the women that work here as staff are strong and assertive, we are told that the women here on the staff are educated. Education is the key. That thing whick I took for granted my whole life is such a luxury and gift here and it can change a womans life profoundly. I think that I already told you that until 20 years ago, there was a 98% illiteracy rate among adults here. Well, these are the grandparents of the children in schools today, so you can see how that change has taken place in the last two generations.
After that class, we had another one on spirits, witch doctors, diviners and such. This was also really fascinating. Western medicine has it’s place here, but traditional medicine is still used by the majority of people. The amazing thing is that the traditional medicine is very, very sophisticated. The people that are healers are ‘called’ to heal by the spirits, and are told that healing is the purpose of their life and if they refuse to learn the skill, there is no reason for the gods to keep them around. Pretty convincing, huh?! Stories of their medicine have been written up in many medical journals, and everyone trusts in them completely. Some of the other volunteers are skeptical, but it makes sense to me. Most of our pharmaceuticals are derivitives of plants and herbs. The healers here are just serving them up in their natural form!
As for spirituality, there is a heirarchy of spirits starting with the supreme God, which every African believes in, all the way down to the ‘living dead’, which are those people that have died but that we still remember. Most people here are Muslim or Catholic, but many of them believe in a combination of their traditional beliefs and organized religion. They do not seem to find conflict in the two, rather they allow the two to peacefully coexist.
Booga-booga talk soon gave way to our last Swahili class. I really wanted to skip it, but I kept telling myself that it is not very often that I get the opportunity to take a free Swahili class, so I finally went. Several people are out of town, so myself and the two college guys enjoyed the last class. They spent all of their effort trying to get the teacher, Mama Hedwig, to teach them how to insult each other, while she just shook her head at them and said, “No, do not learn such things”. Even she had to laugh, though, when Andrew told her “Hakuna ma-taco”, instead of “Hakuna matata”. Rather than saying to her, ‘no worries’, he was telling her, ‘no buttocks’. You gotta love a foreign lauguage!
After class, we all gathered for our final field trip. CCS was taking us to the Honey Badger Cultural Arts Center for an evening of dinner, tribal drumming, and dancing. It was great fun and as I twirled around in a grass skirt, I just kept thinking, “If my parents could see me now!” The laughing and dancing went on into the night, and as it got later, Mama Lucy, the large African woman that is in charge at the Center, kept feeding me swigs of the local homemade rum. When I finally got into the van, I was exhausted! I loved every second of it, though, and before we left, Christy and I accepted an invitation to come back and spend the afternoon with Mama Lucy to discuss Tanzanian traditions. I can’t wait!!!
Love, Anna aka Mud Butt

“When all is said and done here at the ending of the day, I look out on this world and it still takes my breath away…”
“Robin’s Song” Small Potatoes

Anna aka Mud Butt

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