In the Garden of Kundayo, January 16, 2014

After our early morning musical wake-up, I dragged through a mainly uneventful Wednesday.  While the students were in class, I read and caught up on Facebook and email.  I gave up on the reliability of Kundayo's internet connection almost immediately, so I now have a "stick" (modem?) from Airtel that I can shove in a USB port and instantly connect with whatever ether waves race around the world.  This costs me about $45 a month, but it is well worth it.  I have left others use it as well when they have had something of great import to send and have not been able to connect to the internet otherwise.

I had taken a few photos on Tuesday, so while I was on the front terrace using my computer, the two young girls who work as servers for Kundayo's restaurant, came to look at the photo I had of them.  Perhaps they had never seen a photo of themselves before, but they could not look enough, and every time I suggested looking at something else, they protested.  Finally, after at least 10 minutes, I said I had other work to do and changed the screen.  I was surprised that in Arusha today, a photo of one's self might be so fascinating.

Two of the people I most wanted to see again at Kundayo were Sebastian and Fatina, who had worked here in 2012.  They were both extremely personable and well-trained in restaurant service, and because I was often on my own during classes, I got to know them fairly well.  So, I was very disappointed to discover that they are no longer employed here and have been replaced by Jackie and Rebecca (pictured above) and a young man named Dickson.  These three are enrolled in a hospitality  "college," of which there are many now, and are doing their internships here.  The practice of replacing regular employees with these interns has become common with the hotels in Arusha.  It cuts costs for the management and gives the schools placement opening for their students.  By the way, these "college" programs last only six months and accept students who have passed "ordinary level,"which is perhaps equivalent to two years of high school.  When I asked Rebecca if they had English classes, she laughed and said they did, but the classes weren't any good because the teachers themselves didn't know much English.

This morning, Thursday, when I came over to the terrace to sit and enjoy the beauty and calm of Kundayo's garden, I was perversely delighted to see that the gardener had sent up his sprinkler so that it hit all the paintings set up for possible sale.  All morning, the painting have been sprinkled ever 10 seconds, yet none of them looks the worse for the washing.  I suspect they were all done with house paints, so nothing washes out or runs, and probably canvas just shrinks tighter after being wet.  I wonder though how many washings they have had and what the long-term effects may be.

 Lunch today was even better than ever, with the introduction of ugali, a widespread staple made either with manioc flour or cornmeal. Traditionally, one takes small pinches off of the very stiff mass and forms it into a ball that is then thumb-printed so that one can dip it into the pot with stew and spoon a bite into the mouth.  Today, I watched as many of our students tried to eat ugali with knives and forks, which must look ridiculous to Africans.  And, there was no central pot of stew, just meat in one of the chafing dishes in the buffet line.  We hope that eventually all in our group will have an opportunity to eat ugali with their host families in a more traditional way.

In the hours after lunch while they wait for their host families to pick them up, the students have free time to read and do other assignments.  This is a valuable time for them since once they are at their host homes, they will have very little time to themselves. In Africa, families socialize and do their tasks in a more communal manner than is usually the case in America, and someone who goes off and spends time all alone is seen as being antisocial or perhaps rude.  So in the evenings, the students have little time or space to themselves until they go to bed.

John and I called Ray, our trusty taxi driver, and had him drive us downtown for a fast shopping trip.  First, we went to Meat King, which looks like any other hole-in-wall shop in Arusha, but is actually a very well-stocked butcher shop operated by a Danish couple who have been in Africa forever. The prices are quite a bit lower than in the States, so I bought 4 chicken thighs, a kilo of ground beef, and 500 grams of beef stew meat.  I bypassed the jars of mincemeat leftover from Christmas as well as the containers of salsa, guacamole, and raspberries brought in from other European farms.  When we left Meat King, we drove back toward home and stopped at John's favorite produce stand to buy bananas, mangoes, and a pineapple, so John could make his favorite fruit salad for dinner tonight.  Since we eat the buffet lunch the students have her during the week, we count that as our main meal of the day and in the evening, we have sandwiches, yogurt, and fruit.  This saves me a great deal of food shopping and cooking, and I may only have to battle misshapen pots, minimal cooking utensils, and erratic electricity on the weekends.  This weekend I want to use my Wonderbag when I make a beef stew. A critical review will follow that effort.

Once we had our meat and fruit, we made another short stop at the Kjenge market in order to buy more jugs of water.  We buy the water in 10 liter jugs, and the students go through them very fast.  Their host families are supposed to make sure they have ample bottled water to drink, but some students forget to bring their water bottles or need more water than they have brought, so we have been supplementing their supply. John and Ray lugged six big bottles out to the taxi, as the eight bottles Ray and I had bought on Monday were finished this morning.  The 2012 students had classes in a school which allowed us access to the water in their commercial water cooler, so we hadn't faced this problem before.  At Kundayo, one can buy a 1 or 2 liter bottle of water, but that gets expensive very fast.

With our shopping done, we drove the last leg back to Kundayo but made one last stop.  Before coming to Tanzania this time, I went into Google to look at the satellite view of Kundayo and noticed a large white structure nearby on Old Potato Road.  It was identified as a Lutheran church, and I realised this was probably Ray's church.  So, I asked him to take us there before returning to Kundayo this afternoon, and he was more than happy to do so.  They have been working on this building for three years now, and the sanctuary is very useable, though they still have not put in the wooden pews they want and use plastic chairs instead. The building is huge with a sanctuary which will easily hold 1,000, and they hold three services each Sunday, two in Swahili and one in the language the Masai speak.  The first two services last about an hour and a half, but the Masai service, which starts at 10:30, can run as late as 2:00 p.m. Ray insisted that we meet the pastor, so we had a short wait while a marital counseling session ended, and then we were ushered into Pastor Tom's office, where warm greetings were exchanged and small talk went on for ten minutes or so.  Ray was so pleased to introduce us and tell his pastor that we wanted to attend the second service this Sunday.  It was a wonderful time of everyone being happy to be where they were with the people they were with.

When we finally got home, Ray and I discussed a marketing scheme in which his wife would buy vegetables for me in the market at a much better price than I could get, and I would not only pay for the vegetables, of course, but also pay her a commission.  I wrote out a list and expected delivery tomorrow afternoon, but within two hours, Ray was back with his wife, Honora, and his Auntie (I'll have to have Ray write her name for me).  There were big hugs and two-cheek kisses, and huge happy smiles.  I feel extremely fortunate to have such good people as part of my life here.  I only wish I could spend more time with them.  Oh, the onions, carrots, eggplants, green peppers, tomatoes, and potatoes are lovely, too.

Eventually, we relaxed for a short time on the terrace before returning to our mini-apartment for a supper of peanut butter and jam sandwiches and yogurt.  Then, John made his fruit salad, which I got to sample, and now he is in the bathroom washing his underwear.  That will get hung up on plastic covered hangers and hung all around the frame for our mosquito net so it can flap in the fan's breeze like prayer flags and be dry in the morning.  Let us give thanks for micro-fiber underwear.