"Animal, Vegetable, Miracle"

It has been a very interesting couple of days living in Tengeru.

I ended up going to the Polish Refugee cemetery by myself- 4pm real time can end up being 6:30pm Tanzania time, so I had come and gone by the time everyone showed up. It's tucked in way back off of the main road, but it's a beautiful space. The director wasn't there so there wasn't anyone to fill me in on the story, but I plan to go back. There were as many as 200 graves, but most were marked with Christian crosses, so I don't know if that's typical, or if missionaries handled the burials, or if Christians fled Nazi Poland, but regardless it confused me a bit. Most of the people lasted only a few years- probably Malaria- but some lived well into the 60s and two made it into the 21st century. When I get the whole story I'll post it because it is lost on me.

In other news, deceased Polish war refugees led me to my two best friends in Tanzania!

Yup. I finally found horses.

A very friendly mare and a gorgeous but mannerless stud live at the agriculture college's animal husbandry and care compound. I'll admit I squealed when I saw them. There are literally thousands of sheep, goats, and cows here, but these are the only horses I have seen (thank goodness, otherwise they would be food!)

They live on the way to the cemetery so on my way home from there I stopped at their fence and called to them. Well, wouldn't you know it, horse language it international because they came right over and gladly had me scritch their ears and withers, and play with their noses. A group of kids came by and were very confused by my interest in the horses. I think they were kind of afraid of them- and rightfully so, since those big brown creatures are pretty novel to the area. They made a lot of noise and my friends (the ponies) decided to bail, but once all the people had dispersed I called them again and they came back.

It made me remember why I love horses. It's not that I had forgotten to love them, I just forgot about why. Horses, many animals, are therapeutic. They don't care what you're wearing or how you did on your math test. They won't call you 'mzungu', or ask you for money, or laugh at your makeshift swahili. Animals care how you treat them, not who you are. It may sound like I'm being hard on Tanzanians, but in reality people are just hard on people. I like the people here, I just happen to love these horses.

I've found the same thing with dogs. People here don't feed their dogs, they're busy enough keeping themselves fed. Remember that poverty and unemployment are rampant in east Africa, as in much of the world. These dogs aren't pets. They are guard dogs, they are not fixed, and they are hungry and itchy. Dogs are everywhere but for the most part people are afraid of dogs and dogs are afraid of people. I've befriended the dogs near my homestay and they LOVE me. They were afraid of me at first, but now they wait in the driveway for me to come home, I scratch their ears and pull off a few bugs, and their tails wag, and wag, and wag.

Great guard dogs, eh?

Yes, the animal relationships here are very interesting. For example, it's been very tricky to explain vegetarianism. Things like "buying local" and "free range" and "animal rights" are tough for many Tanzanians to conceptualize. All meat is local! All chickens are free range! No cows are fed grain or meat, and no animals are stuffed into overcrowded, unsanitary pens. Meat is expensive, so they don't eat very much of it. It's prized even though the animals aren't exactly in prime condition. I won't pretend to know the situation of every animal on the continent, but around here they see vegetarianism as being overly sensitive or something. For the most part they can't picture mass production of food. The title of this entry is the name of a book by Barbara Kingsolver about eating locally in the U.S. One of the GSC coordinators is going to lend it to me.

Monday was the end of Ramadan, so we had the day off from GSC and instead I went with my homestay Mama and "brother" Michael to visit their extended family in a village at the base of Kilimanjaro. The ride out there brought the term "off roading" into a funny sort of light, since technically they were roads. It was beautiful out there. The staple food for the region is bananas so the whole area sways to the shade of the banana trees, and we had a cooked banana stew for lunch- not bad! They don't get many foreigners out there since it's off the beaten tourist track. I had a fan club of kids who spent the day hiding behind nearby trees and giggling, and one older man asked Michael in all seriousness if he had brought home his fiancee from Dar es Salaam. We finished our time there visiting with some of their cousins, some of whom are bicycle mechanics. I flipped when I saw a bike made entirely of wood and a few nails. I asked the kids to ride it for me so I could take pictures. At first they were very shy, but once I showed them the video feature on my digital camera the driveway turned into the set of Tanzania's Funniest Home Videos. They were hysterical! All in all it was a pretty great day. I've been really lucky to have a homestay family that includes me in things like that. It was a place I wouldn't have seen otherwise.

Tuesday morning Michael and I played card games. He taught me "One Card" which is essentially Uno but with different rules, and I taught him Spit, which he picked up very quickly. We listened to all different kinds of African music- gospel from South Africa, Hip Hop from Kenya, traditional tribal from Mozambique. I'm really excited to burn a few CD's. He told me all about his uber strict boarding school in Dar. It's a "seminary" run by Turks where the students are forbidden to have cell phones, play cards, listen to music, or talk about girls. When I asked him if he knew it was like that before he went, he laughed and said he never would have gone so it's better that he didn't know. Michael wants to be a doctor and he's got his heart set on going to the U.S. for college. I'm going to send him an SAT prep book when I get home because they don't exactly have those around here, and he's worried about taking them. He's absurdly clever and his school sounds intense. I'm convinced he would thrive in any upper level American colellege or University.

In the afternoon I attempted to mail my first batch of postcards. The stamps were peeling off in the humidity, despite the postal worker's attempts to super glue them.... so fingers crossed. On my way home to pick up Michael I bought a few carrots for my friends. Michael and I walked over to the horses, passing a farming seminar at the college along our way. We pet the ponies for a bit, and after a few minutes the group of farmers approached us at the fence. They were a colorful bunch of all ages from all corners of Tanzania, dressed in their best for this clinic, and Michael would later tell me that they approached us because they thought we were professors from the college. They wanted us to teach them about horses! Well I didn't know that at the time, but I did teach them one thing. When my nosey stud came up to the fence to investigate the new arrivals, I quickly said to Michael, "Tell them he bites." Michael said it, and no sooner than he had finished, Mr. Nosey reached out to chomp on one of the farmers trying to pet him. It got a big laugh and I got some applause. Pretty funny.

After visiting with the horses Michael showed me a nearby spring where most of the town collects their water. It was a lush little jungle back there, covered in big beautiful trees, tangled vines, tons of snakes, choirs of birds, and the thunderous chatter of monkeys. We didn't see any yesterday, but this Saturday GSC is taking us on a day-trip safari to Arusha National Park, so I'm hoping to see some cool creatures then.

Now I'm about to head back to Tengeru on one of my beloved Daladalas. The one I took into Arusha this morning was possibly the slowest mechanized vehicle since the advent of the automobile. I will never curse the green line. Ever. Again.

That's what I get for riding on something with "Jesus Cares" painted on it. All of the Daladalas are decorated, and I have seen the funniest slogans and pictures. My personal favorite is "Pimp My Ride, Go To Church."

On my way home I'll be stopping to visit my friends and give them the last carrot I got for them. I'll be sure to say hello for you. :-)