Umm... No title?

I'm a little spacey right now. I think it's the humidity- iz gon rain fo sho. I can't really remember what I was going to write about, but here goes...

I've spent one week in my Arusha homestay, and it's been pretty legit. I was pretty damn timid going into the first homestay out in Tengeru, because it's weird, man, and I had never done it before. Moving into the second one, on the other hand, was pretty easy. Where's the drinking water? I don't eat meat, I like brown bread, and I love fruits and vegetables. Bing. Bam. Boom. End of story- good to go. The homestay has become so normal, that sometimes I forget what's going on. I honestly forget that it should be kinda weird. Once in a while I realize I'm sitting at the dinner table with a whole other family, here and there I'm reading while they watch bad Christian rock music videos, and so it goes. Poh tee weet.

That all being said, my second house could not be more different from Mama Salome's set-up. The house is smaller, the people bigger, and way more stuff. Way more.

The father owns a safari company, so he's essentially living the dream here in East Africa. Talk to ten random guys on a street in Arusha, and I would bet my stipend that 8 out of 10 will say they want to own a Safari company. I find it kind of depressing, but do with it what you will. They say that Zimbabwe's President Mugabe is desperate to be/remain the "Last Big Man" in Africa- and if that's not ringing a bell, pick up some African literature or a history book... it's important. Anyway, I would argue that Safari Company owner is it's own personal level of prestige in Tanzania. They're not exactly loaded, but filthy rich by local standards.

I started paying close attention to things around the house. What does a family of means living in town fill their house with? The answers might surprise you.

First of all. There are two televisions in the living room. I have yet to discover why, but they're there.

The china cabinet has enough plates to feed well over 100 people. This isn't like, "having the family over for the holidays- oh no we need more plates!" This is extreme, and it's quite telling. Most households here do not have many plates, and there's very little silverware. Everyone shares. To have over 50x the amount of plates you need to feed your family of four is a major statement. It says, "not only can I feed my family, but I feed them in style, and excessively" and there's something very American about that... meh.

There are also at least four calandars, and three clocks by my current count. Remember that everyone here lives on "Africa Time" which essentially means no concept of time. There's a saying that "Whites have all the watches but Africans have all the time" and it seems to be true. People here go crazy for watches- frankly, it's a miracle that I still have mine- but no one seems to care what time or day it is. Except for Sunday. No one forgets Sunday, because that's when you have a legitimate reason to chillax. However, when your kids are in a private school, and your business is based on the expectations and schedule of tourists, you wear a watch and you sure as heck pay attention to it.

My homestay father is all about being the ultimate host. He keeps calling me "Madame" and encourages me to "be free." He's also very clearly the Man of the House- and it is a Man's house. For example, in this house, the wife, housegirl, and two daughters put the seats up after they use the bathroom. I am a firm believer in seat and lid down, and if you want to know the truth, I've been practicing "If it's yellow let it mellow, if it's brown flush it down" since I got here. We're in a flippin drought, people! These toilets are ancient and useless- they use like 10 gallons of water with each flush! So right on, Baba Abraham, I will "be free" to conserve water and put down the seats after I've lifted my "Madame" off of them.

So it's a man's house. It's a fancy house. It's basically where I keep my stuff- which I did end up buying some baskets for, so I didn't resort to using the moldy fridge. It's all pretty good.

We had a tricky time at work this week. No one showed up for the first two days of class, which was a major bummer, but we did recruit a class and give condensed lessons over the last three days. Next week we're all set to teach 60 fourteen year olds about anatomy and puberty, sex-ed, HIV prevention, and nutrition. Oh snap. I'm really excited to work with kids, especially since we've gotten to know them a little bit in the last two weeks spent at their village. Condom demonstration for giggling teenagers? HECK YES. haha.

An upside of last week was that I got more kids to sing Boom Chicka Boom with me. They love it. I love them. We have a killer time.

A lot of times when kids stare at me with funny looks on their faces I just start jabbering away- "What's up homes? How you rollin? These cats seem pretty groovy, man. I'm just straight chillin up in dis bidness, you get what I'm sayin? You pickin up what I'm puttin down?" etc etc etc. They laugh... and laugh... and laugh....

Last night we went out to dinner at the Ethiopian restaurant again. Yummmm. Afterwards I begged and pleaded with a taxi driver to take me home for only 2,000 shillings. That's about $1.50 and about half of what I would normally pay... "It's all I have! I swear! Please, it's not that far. No, I'm not fooling you, look- see? Here's my wallet, only 2,000 TSH! I'm a student!" It ended up being a cabbie I've had before. The last time he drove me he claimed that he didn't have enough change for me to pay our pre-arranged amount. I called his bluff, "I don't believe you, check again" and he laughed and gave me my change. Given our history I think he felt like he owed me or something. So, he gave in and drove me home last night for a measley 2,000 shillings. I was pleased.

This morning I went with Jenaya and Mike (two of the GSC coordinators) to a drama workshop for local high schoolers who are putting on skits at the World AIDS Day program at the Arusha stadium on December 1st. It was really fun, but the teacher was a women from Barcelona who works at the international school and doesn't teach Swahili. It wasn't exactly a class for beginners, and she had no way of really helping them since she spoke less Swahili than I do- and she's been living here for 14 months! The kids were great, and there were student organizers who could translate and who had done this before, but it just added to my general feeling of the need to "train trainers" so that the appropriate skills cross the language barrier, but local context is incorporated. Why are we talking to 14 year old Tanzanians about the structure Shakespeare used in his plays? I mean, that's good to know, but are we skipping a few dozen basic steps before that? The kids are quick, and quite the performers, but I dunno, man. I just don't know.

Tonight the GSC girls and I are going to a club to hear live Reggae music with a group of locals we know. Should be fun. We can exactly stumble into the homestays late at night so we'll taxi to a hostel afterwards. One of the guys who is coming with us tonight, is a Rasta that people call "Bob" who has lived in Arusha his whole life but speaks his limited English in a Jamaican accent. I'm convinced it's because he learned English from Bob Marley songs. The other day he was going on and on about the problems and suffering that surround us, littering his observations with the phrase "I tell you true!" When he got to the end of one jive and I was thoroughly lost on what he was saying he turned to me and said, "But I tell you true, Sista, I tell you true: Ev'ryting's gonna be alright!" I felt like I was in a movie, or on a record cover, or in a Jack Kerouac book. It took everything I had to keep from laughing and say "So no woman, no cry, right?" He's pretty awesome, and it was hilarious.

On a final note: I am jealous of all of you who are already skiing in VT, or stepping on crunchy leaves, or drinking cider, or wearing sweaters. I am mad at all of you. Enjoy it to the max or I will attempt to haunt your dreams.

Dreams! Okay, I lied. One more thing. The other day I was talking with a GSC translator about teeth. Brushing your teeth is tricky when you can't afford toothpaste. A lot of people here have really brown teeth. Yay. It makes me brush and mouthwash all the more ferociously, but the other night I had a dream that my teeth were rotting out of my head. WELL. Today I found out that a lot of people have brown teeth because the ground water has too much natural flouride in it! Isn't that interesting? I mean, tragic, obviously, but interesting too.

Okay! Go brush your teeth and enjoy the fall weather!