Maji Moto

It was a tranquil, beautiful Sunday for us today... we headed out with some other volunteers to a natural pool fed by an underground aquifer.  It is called "Maji Moto"- Swahili for "warm water", because the water is quite pleasantly lukewarm.  It's a marvel, this place.  We drove, bumping along dusty dirt roads through Maasai territory for an hour and a half.  Around us were cacti, dry fields, mud huts, and not much else.  Then the car arrived and we stepped out with dusty skin and misaligned spines.  There in front of us was an oasis.  Surrounded by trees, this pool of crystal clear blue water sits.  We could see right down to the bottom even though it was about 3 m deep at its deepest points. When we jumped in, it had the refreshing feel of clean, crisp water even though it was not cold at all.  We spent the day there... exploring down little channels, jumping off the rope swing, eating "chipsi mayai" (like a spanish omelet) made my a young fellow on the side of the pool, talking and laughing in the water. There were Tanzanian families picnicking, swimming and enjoying each other's company as well.   I felt grateful to have visited this place today, and to have enjoyed one of nature's little surprises with some friends.  Is there much better in life?

French-fry omelets made over the fire... delicious.

Gabby enjoying the delightful water.

The dry, dusty surroundings.

Brent finally worked up the courage to try the rope swing, and loved it!

Sitting on a log relaxing and chatting.

Brabby's Song:The Rough Cut

We wrote this song- about our home, Usa River- back in October, as we were sleepily lazing around our living room after Swahili classes one evening.  It has taken us months to actually post it, as the internet server at our school... something something something (insert nerd language here).  Okay, so we're not going to be up for a Grammy any time soon... but we had fun. Enjoy!  Lyrics are written below....

We left our homes and our families,
One long year for our God to please,
We came to Usa, Usa River.
We live in a big house with yellow walls.
We sleep till morning when the hornbill calls,
We sleep in Usa, Usa River.

And sometimes we think things ain't as great as they seem,
but it's all okay coz we got our ice cream
here in Usa, Usa River.

Gabby goes off to the school all day,
With the teachers she works, with the kids she plays,
Down in Usa, Usa River.
Brent takes the dalla to Cradle of Love
and those babies they're sent here from heaven above,
they live in Usa, Usa River.

Our Australian friends think we're from "Canader"
and Brent wants to see just one more Puff Adder,
here in Usa, Usa River.

Sometimes we miss you all back home.
Our moms, our dads, our can Phantom.
But when we look around, it's clear...  our home is right here.

So don't you worry, and don't you fret.
Neither of us has malaria yet,
mozzies in Usa, Usa River.
And if you can't wait a full year to see them,
Remember there's daily flights on KLM,
via Arusha, just West of Usa.

And if you don't mind Aussies, some Yanks and some Brits,
and water you drink that might give you the.....

Join us in Usa, Usa River.

Malaika Mbili Corners Marmalade Brittany

It is getting close to Christmas.  As I write this, the chicken and stuffing are in the oven and the potatoes are boiling, ready to be mashed.  We are enjoying a Christmas dinner on the 21st of December with our housemates before we head off tomorrow on a safari.  We will wake up on the Serengeti Christmas morning!

We have been around Usa River for two weeks now and it has been filled with adventures. Camping overnight in the Meserani Snake Park, dinner at Khan's BBQ (an auto parts shop that turns into a BBQ restaurant in the evening- my favourite meal so far in Tanzania!), getting fleas in our bed, getting a brutal sunburn on my lower back from bending over in the garden.... good times.  But by far, our favourite adventure so far has been Malaika Mbili Corners Marmalade Brittany.

A few weeks ago we went to Cradle of Love to visit the girls and share some banana bread with the director, Davona.  While we were chatting, Davona mentioned that they had been having some troubles with rats, and that a worker had brought a "little cat" to kill the rats in the supply pantry.  Of course, this piqued Brent's attention and he asked to see the cat.  Inside this pantry, which was extremely hot, we didn't think anyone was there at first because we couldn't hear anything for the longest time.  But after a few minutes, hidden way in a corner, we heard a tiny mewing sound.  Brent then set to the task of trying to catch the cat, and about 15 minutes later, drenched in sweat, he emerged with a tiny little creature, which fit in the palm of his hand.

She was no more than 6 weeks old, which in North America would mean that she would not yet be separated from her mother.  She was terrified, and once Brent was holding her, she started to nuzzle in his neck.  However, whenever he put her down, she would start mewling non-stop in pained tones.  While we visited more with Davona and the babies, we debated about what to do.  We didn't feel right leaving her in that pantry... the rats were bigger than she was, and Davona was allergic, so couldn't take care of her.  We knew some of our house-mates are not in favour of pets, so we couldn't keep her.  However, we decided to take her home for a few days, in order to try and find her a loving home. Most of our house-mates were gone, so it worked out.


When we got her home, our friend Hana immediately fell in love with her.  We had recently befriended a cat at our local restaurant whom we loved, and had named her "Malaika", which is Swahili for Angel.  We decided to name our new kitten"Malaika Mbili"- "Angel 2".  When we got her to our room and put her down, she immediately ran under the bed.  For the whole day, if we were not cuddling her (which she thoroughly enjoyed) and we put her down, she would dash for the nearest dark corner.  We decided a more appropriate name for her might be "Corners", since she seems to love them so much.

The first night she cried intermittently through the night, giving us a glimpse of what new parenting might be like.  Yikes. But after the first day Malaika Mbili Corners started to become more outgoing... when we came in the room she would be hidden in a corner, but then might eventually come padding out across the floor and seek us out.  She began to play with anything that was shiny or moving... there are not to many things more fun that playing with a brand new kitten and a ribbon.  For two days we remained almost entirely fixated on her.  It was bliss. 

This is Brent, trying to calm her down while I set up a temporary litter box in the bathroom.

Hana with the kitty.

She stayed in Brent's arms for almost 2 days.

She seemed to have developed a curiosity for coffee.  We didn't let her have any, as it would stunt her growth:)

The first day I had put out an email to the St Jude's volunteers who lived off-campus, praying as we sent the email that someone would take her.  If nobody replied, we really didn't know what we would do.  Leave her in the village to eat garbage scraps and become a feral cat?  Plead with all of the local hotels to let a cat live on their grounds?  The ad I put out was answered immediately by Shawn, a volunteer at St Jude who has a family here in Tanzania.  Her daughter had been yearning for a kitten for a long time.  The ad had said that we had an "adorable, marmalade cat" available. Shawn said that she would let her daughter name the cat, but that she liked the name "Marmalade".  We arranged to meet her in Arusha the next day.  It was sad to give her away, but we were also so, so happy that she was going to a loving home.  Shawn's daughter and son were coming back from a vacation the next day so we got Malaika Mbili Corners Marmalade all set up in her new home.

Old owner and new owner.  Brent is obviously having mixed feelings over the whole ordeal.

We got an email the next day from Shawn, saying that both of her kids absolutely loved the kitty.  They were taking turns sleeping with her each night.  Her daughter, being a 7 year old girl, named the cat "Brittany". 

We would have loved to keep this little creature.  She stole our heart and we will never forget her.  But we are so thankful that she has found a loving home for good, and we can always come visit her.   Our dear little Malaika Mbili Corners Marmalade Brittany.

Advent and Watermelon Seeds

We are officially off for 5 weeks' holiday- much like "summer vacation" in Canada, the kids are off until January 9th, and we are relaxing around home.  We spent part of last week on the beach in Pangani, which was delicious... a constant routine of reading, sleeping, swimming and eating.  Now we have a few weeks at home before we head off on our Christmas safari.

It's advent now. I've always been drawn to advent... it's a time of waiting and anticipation.  I know that biblically it is meant to be a time when we anticipate the birth of Christ.  But I find it a bit too abstract to anticipate something that has already happened.  Instead, in Canada most years, I find myself in the cold and dark winter, exhausted out of my mind from the first 3 months of teaching.  I anticipate the solstice- when the days will start to grow lighter bit-by-bit.  I anticipate the Christmas holidays, when I will rest and recover from the exhaustion.  And I anticipate the holiday of Christmas- the time with family, the food, the celebration of Christ with singing and candlelight scripture readings.

So I find myself caught in a totally different advent here.  I'm not that exhausted, as my job is actually a manageable work load and I don't take work home in the evenings.  The amount of daylight stays virtually the same all year, with the sun rising dutifully at 6:15 am and painting the sky pink around 6:30 pm.  So no deficit of vitamin D here.  And I find myself not missing the Christmas "trappings" at all... the other day some friends drove us into Arusha and we went shopping at Shoprite- which is a rather grotesque imitation of a Superstore kind of environment and, despite the availability of things like ketchup, it usually leaves me feeling a bit nauseous as I leave.  Anyways, the whole time we shopped there were Dolly Parton Christmas carols playing over the tinny speakers, and little tufts of tinsel were haphazardly taped to random ends of aisles.  Then at the end of the store was a sad-looking artificial Christmas tree with some plastic balls dangling from its ends.  It was the first I have seen of any Christmas consumerism, and I couldn't finish my shopping fast enough.

But despite my not missing Christmas "stuff" at all, I am finding it a beautiful thing to spend the weeks leading up to Christmas in a relaxed state, with plenty of time to ponder the meaning of advent and Christmas.  At the same time, I have been spending lots of time in the garden.  Helen, a long term volunteer here, has built the most beautiful garden.  There's too many beautiful things to name in this garden, but my favourites are the herbs (almost every one you can imagine), peppers, lettuce and  chard.  She has also started nursing several trees into existence- most of which she will never see the fruit of, but we have avocado, passionfruit, papaya, and lemon trees growing in our yard.  Helen has gone home to Australia for the holidays and asked me to care for her garden, so I have been dutifully watering, weeding, and doting over her babies. I have also been throwing any seeds I can into empty spaces of dirt to see if they will grow.  A few weeks ago I had watermelon for lunch and stood over a hole in the dirt, spitting them in as I ate.  Then I made pumpkin pie (out of butternut squash) for Thanksgiving, and threw the hole goopey mess of seeds into a hole.  Now, as they are beginning to pop out of the ground, I excitedly run out to see them in the morning, to see what progress they have made.

I am discovering how much a garden, like advent, is all about anticipation.  I come from the city where, if I want a tomato right now, I just drive down to the store and it sits ripe and tasty on a pile waiting for me.  I sometimes feel frustrated watching the garden... everything is happening so slowly, and I want my butternut squash NOW.  And sometimes, when a pepper or zucchini is looking so promising, it falls off the stem or gets eaten by bugs.  My hopes are dashed.  But I keep waiting, anticipating the fruits of my labour.  But at the same time, a garden is about celebration of the little milestones.  Every day I see a change... the first leaves popping out of the ground; the leaves changing shape an colour as they mature; the first flowers; the first fruits.  Each one of them causes my heart to jump a little, even though the finished product is so far from arriving.  This is a side of advent that I have missed out on.  In the exhaustion, busy-ness and stress of most Decembers, I
am unable to see the little celebrations along the way. 

I think about the Tanzanian friends I have made here.  I think their lives are a bit of a constant state of advent.  They are trying to survive; working hard as a cleaner, taxi driver or teacher; trying to feed their kids, send them to school, and care for sick family members.  The small amount of money that comes in each month is nearly never enough to cover what they need.  Like the Israelites were waiting for a saviour, they live in anticipation and total faith that God will help them, even if they're not at all sure how.  They take evening classes in French and zoology, in the hopes of becoming a safari guide.  They send their children to an English-medium school, in the hopes that that child will one day be a doctor or lawyer.  They befriend a mzungu (white person) like me, with the unspoken hope that I might one day pay for their university tuition as so many other mzungus have done.  There are so many sad things that happen to people here; I can understand how they would look to the future to lift them out of the present.  And YET... my Tanzanian friends are also the most joyful, in-the-moment people I know.  They celebrate an uneventful day as a miracle... grateful to God that they have enjoyed another day on this earth without tragedy.  They celebrate that God is here, now, and loves them unconditionally.  We saw our friend James the taxi driver (who is also a school teacher) the other evening and asked him how his classes were that day.  He said: "Oh, my classes went very well today, praise the Lord!".  The irony is never lost on me that we mzungus, the ones who have all of our basic (and not-so-basic) needs and wants provided for, are the ones who forgo this wonder and celebration, in order to complain about the heat or office politics.

This advent, I want to learn to think more like my Tanzanian friends.  I want to live each day in hope that something beautiful and life-changing is around the corner.  But I also want to live each day in awareness that something and beautiful and life-changing is right here.  In the midst of our African adventure, in the midst of  my watermelon seedlings... God is here and he loves me unconditionally.

Helen's beautiful peppers.

The spit out watermelon seeds flourish!

I had to plant more basil... I am seriously depleting the supply.

Someday to be butternut squash.  I want them now!

A Day in the Life of....

This morning I woke up and the birds were chirping and it was already pretty hot outside, and it smelled like fresh grass… it was the perfect spring day.  Then I checked the weather forecast for Calgary.  Snowfall warning with a high of -5.  Sigh.  There were so many days in January last year that I was shoveling my car out from under the snow in the dark at 6 am, and I dreamed of this moment.  Here it is.

I (this is Gabby writing) am a visual person.  When someone close to me is away on a trip, I quite often stop during the day and try to visualize where they are at that moment, and what their surroundings look like.  It often causes me quite a bit of stress or anxiety when I am heading into a new situation and I have not seen pictures of it- thus I cannot visualize what it will be like.  Well, for those of  you who sympathize, I am going to give you a visual journey of "A Day in the Life of Gabby..."

My day usually starts at 6:15, when my phone chimes out in a very British-sounding female robotic voice: "It's time to get up, the time is SIX FIF-TEEN."  Often I lay there for a few moments, tempting the lady to tell me that it is six sixteen. Then I throw on my jogging clothes and dash out onto the verandah to meet my running partner, Hana.  I'm usually quite groggy, but by the time we have started out down the gravel road through villages and huts and rice paddies, greeting everybody we pass in various Swahili greetings, chatting and laughing as we go, I am quite awake.  This is the first time in so many years that I have had the time or the energy to go running before work in the morning and it is wonderful.

 The porch outside our door in the morning, with the school in the background.

Running partner Hana, with work partner Marcel.

After my run, I wake up Brent, stretch, shower, and have breakfast.  Then it is down the dusty path across the field to work.  As I am walking through campus, I hear the beautiful voices of the students singing praise songs (often in 3-part harmony) for their homeroom class.  Sometimes I drop in and listen, but I feel too awkward taking a picture of such an intimate moment.

The walk into the campus

The students' washroom, where they are reminded of our school values each time they go to "answer the call of nature" as one boy put it.

Students heading off to class

From the stairs up to my office, this is the central "amphitheatre" where the students sometimes gather.

The library next to my office.

I sign in at the office, where the lovely faces of Grace and Joyce greet me each morning.

Grace.  Administrative assistant extraordinaire!

Then usually head to my office to check my emails and get ready for the day.





Most days I have a combination of meeting with the teachers, being in the classroom with them, administrative meetings and sitting in my office preparing materials for the next PD session I am leading. 
My partner, Marcel, is one of those genius-types who is often found hunched over something at his desk, spouting mathematical formulas or profanities.  But he doesn’t actually SAY the profanities… he says “bad word” instead.

The teacher mentor office.  My desk is on the right, and my partner Marcel on the left.  We will have more mentors joining us in January.  Hooray!

These are the teachers I work with most closely…

Issa is a kind, gentle soul with a brilliant smile.  He is a great teacher and the students love him.  He and I work on ways he can use “practicals” (lab exercises) in an effective way in his teaching.

Issa in his office

Paul is an enthusiastic, keen teacher as well.  He and I usually plan lessons together, and I might help him with some of the background knowledge behind the subjects he is teaching.

Paul

Osempia teaches Biology.  She and I also work on how to use practicals effectively in her classes.
I head to the dining hall for lunch, which is usually some combination of the following: rice, beans, lentils, spinach, okra, or ugali (a floury paste that looks like mashed potatoes but tastes like blech!).  My favourite day is Wednesday because they serve either rice and lentils or pilau (a spiced, fried rice).

On Thursday afternoons is the school assembly.  It is student-led, and a beautiful thing to watch… they sing the Tanzanian national anthem (again in 3- part harmony), followed by the school song.  It’s basically telling the story of St Jude and our mission (“Fighting Poverty Through Education”) and our school motto.  It’s quite funny hearing them squeeze the word “education” into a single beat of the song.  They also hand out student awards and the kids present skits and songs to each other.  It is a highlight of my week.

The start of assembly

A student skit.  They're mostly  in Swahili so I don't really understand much, but the kids are killing themselves laughing.  Nice to see them unwinding a little, as their academic life is very rigorous!

On Wednesday afternoons after school I run a typing class for the teachers.  They  were all offered the option to lease-to-own a laptop, which they are very excited about, but their computer skills are mostly pretty weak; especially when it comes to the hunt-and-peck typing they often do. 
Then Wednesday evening is my favourite part of the week… Kiswahili class!  Yes, I have been pulled right back into my nerd university days, and my geekiness is in full force.  I love learning new languages, so I am always eager to crack open my exercise book and write sentences, or memorize words with my flash cards.  It has been the source of much mockery from Brent.  As you may be well aware, school isn’t exactly his thing.  But he is trying hard to learn the language as he sees the benefits when we are out in the community.

Other than Wednesdays, I leave school at 5 pm, enjoying my 3 minute commute back home.  Often my colleagues are in the kitchen and we enjoy an aperitif and a chat while chopping veggies for dinner.  The sun sets around 6:30 pm, and this dusk period is such a lovely time of day… the sky turning orange behind the silhouettes of the banana trees and the birds singing out.  It is lovely. 
This is the part where we reveal our senior citizen-ness… dinner is usually finished around 7:30 or 8, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes open.  Brent and I head back to our room to read books, mend clothes, check emails or watch an episode of “Big Bang Theory” before I’m falling asleep anytime between 8:30 and 9:30.  Pathetic but boy do I love it!  Just before falling asleep I set my cell phone for 6:15 so the little British lady can once again tell me that it is time to get up the next morning….

There you have it.  A day in the life of me. If you made it this far, congratulations!

A Taste of Home...

We are blessed to be in the company of many foodies.  Often we'll come home and someone has cooked up a big curry, moussaka, or pasta for everyone.  What a treat, to sit around the table with your friends and enjoy a delicious meal cooked up for you.  I (Gabby) have been thinking for awhile that I wanted to cook a similar meal for my housemates.  At the same time, often on Sunday nights my mouth starts watering at the thought of our traditional Sunday-night visits to my parent's house for a paella.  So, yesterday while shopping in Arusha I looked around for the best ingredients I could and decided to try my hand at cooking a paella for the house.  I think it would have made my dad shudder... basmati rice instead of arborio... chicken bouillon cubes instead of broth... but I did manage to pinch some saffron off of a fellow foodie here.  It was a great evening.  We had red wine, french onion soup appetizer (made by Hana and her friend Matt), and chocolate peanut-butter cake for dessert (also made by Hana).  Everyone seemed to enjoy the paella, and Matt said he was in his "happy food place".  Hopefully I made the Galvez clan proud!  Next time I need to work on presentation quality, but I think it tasted pretty good:)

A Mountain Sandwich

So, even though I once climbed Mount Kilimanjaro, I had not yet seen it on this trip (well, a silhouette of it, but nothing to get excited about).  Until yesterday morning... it was an unusually hot, bright morning.  In fact, when I walked into the kitchen for breakfast I started to become paranoid that I had slept in and it was 10 am.  As I walked down the little path to school, through the field and beside the creek, I saw my coworker Kate, waiting for me at the school building.

 "Oh, Gabby... could I just borrow you for a moment?  I just need a hand with something." she says, nonchalantly. 

I semi-reluctantly agreed, silently wondering what I could help her with when my arms were full with books, my laptop, water bottle, purse, etc. We walked up toward the soccer field and the assembly hall and I finally asked "What did you need help with?".  She didn't respond for a few seconds and kept walking until she pointed up and said "This." with a huge grin on her face.

There it was.  Jutting up, huge and magnificent behind the trees and buildings, towering over the kids playing volleyball.  I didn't realize it would look so big from here.  Usually it is covered in clouds, but it was splendid.  It sent shivers down my spine!

I immediately texted Brent to come with the camera, and after we snapped a couple of photos, we turned around and looked the other way.  There was Mount Meru towering equally magnificently on the other side of us.  We sat in awe, nestled between these two spectacular giants like big protecting Mamas on either side of us.  I think we were both overcome with a feeling of peace and gratitude for where we are.  "Rough life," said Brent. "I knew it was going to be hard in Africa, but I never knew it would be THIS hard."

I can't imagine a more perfect place to live... right in the middle of a mountain sandwich.