Easygoing Women and Training in Tanzania

Before the sun rose on February 5th, I boarded a bus bound for JFK. After waiting in the in between that only exists in airports, I finally boarded a plane headed for Tanzania. By 7am I was sitting in my seat watching the baggage being loaded onto the plane, my head pounding from over-indulgence in margaritas the night before. As the plane rose into the sky, I looked down on the disappearing New York City skyline, and onto the seemingly never-ending stretch of Long Island, and I realized with a quiet reverence, this is the last time I’m going to see America for a very long time.

Arriving in Dar es Salaam after about twenty hours of travel was both exhilarating and exhausting. The initial weeks of this experience are now quite a blur of pamphlets, tours, and basic language training. Staying at a hotel on the Indian Ocean felt like a soft landing and gave me the time to adjust. This, I believe, Peace Corps does on purpose to encourage people to adjust slowly. Taking their time to expose fresh trainees to the stark reality of sweltering heat, ugali and bucket baths. Our first week we got the full amenities of air conditioning, way too much food, hot showers, a pool, and plenty of down time.

By the second week we were Morogoro bound. Morogoro is the second largest city in Tanzania and is located due west of Dar es Salaam. We spent a week at the training center preparing to make the transition to staying with our host family. By the third week in country families from around Morogoro came to the training center to pick us up. Waiting outside the dining hall, taking deep breaths and fidgeting restlessly with this or that, we all looked like children getting ready to be adopted. The moment I met my host mama, Evodia, I felt her warmth and joy. She was about seven months pregnant and glowing with a huge smile and a high-pitched belly laugh that was absolutely infectious. We drove to Lukuyu, my neighborhood for the next two months. Upon arriving at their beautiful home, I was greeted by the whole family. Gadiella my energetic four-year-old dada (sister) who became my little teacher, dance partner, and quiet companion while I studied. Godlove, my mature and loving seven-year-old kaka (brother), who ran down the road every day for two months when I returned from class. Gloris, my two-year-old kaka who had a personality big enough for a fifty-year-old man. His common refrains being, “I want to go to town, I need to do some shopping” and “I cannot go to bed until I eat more chapati.” I also had three dada wa kazi, which translates to sister of work, who really brought so much joy and light into the home. They managed the cooking, cleaning and caring for the children. I spent many evenings sitting with them to piga story (make a story) while they cooked. We would laugh at all that was lost in translation. We would sing and I would stumble through my limited Kiswahili to answer their questions about America.

After a month and a half of learning all things culture, language, health and then some for about two months, we were ready to embark on site visit week. On March 21st we arrived at the day we had all been waiting for, site announcements. Under any circumstances it is difficult to manage our expectations, but when it comes to finding out where you’ll be living in a foreign country for the next two years, the stakes felt way higher. I am quite the indulgent daydreamer and expected that I would have very specific expectations for my site. But when I closed my eyes to visualize my future home, I saw clearly a very simple scene. Sitting on a porch, overlooking a beautiful view, drinking a cup of fresh coffee, and feeling absolutely at home. The location didn’t matter so much, but that feeling of being at home was my sole expectation. On the day of the announcement, Ashley and I stood at the back of the room, holding hands. She was restlessly moving back and forth, while I was taking deep breaths trying to hone the intense energy that I felt coursing through me. At the front of the room there was a large board with a map of Tanzania, around it was 59 photos covered by post it notes. One by one someone went to the board and removed a post it to reveal someone’s future home. I took a deep breath and heard someone call my name, “Tyler, Kilimanjaro.” Kilimanjaro. Me. My home for the next two years. I walked to the board and received my site file from the team and then ran back to Ashley. We held each other and I felt the surge of emotions, the heat building in my eyes as tears formed, the tension in my throat as I tried to breath. She whispered, “Are you okay?” And I replied, “I am so happy.”

For the first time maybe in my whole life I think I can say that I really didn’t have expectations going into site announcements. I don’t think I even allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to be in Kilimanjaro, undoubtedly one of the regions that Tanzania is most known for. I am two hours from Mount Kilimanjaro, four hours from the Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater, and my site is in the beautiful Pare Mountains. The daydream couldn’t have even touched this reality. On March 23rd, I took a bus with my VEO (Village Executive Officer), Gideon, to Same. Same, the nearest town to my village, is a sleepy little town that feels so perfectly quaint and homey. After a night spent at Amani Hotel (the go to guesti in Same), we embarked on yet another bus ride up the mountain towards Mvaa, my village for the next two years. As we approached the mountain range, we drove right back Mkomazi National Park. At one point the conda stopped the bus and went to fetch what looked like huge balls of dirt. Confused, I asked him, “tembo (elephant)?” and he said, “Ndio.” He was picking up elephant poop. For what? I have no idea. Stay tuned, maybe I’ll figure it out next time.

I spent four days in Mvaa, a beautiful village nestled on the side of a mountain, lush with flora and fauna and the sound of water flowing down the mountain follows you where ever you go. Gideon brought me to the primary school, and I stood in front of the whole student body and introduced myself. The children came and helped me clean my home and backyard, which is spitting distance from the school. It’s the perfect home for me. Again, my lack of expectations somehow brought about the most pleasant surprise. My home feels exactly right. And yes, there is a little porch and a beautiful view. And my cup will poureth over with fresh Tanzanian coffee.

After finishing our site visit week, we headed to Moshi, the city at the base of Mount Kilimanjaro. We spent the weekend exploring the city, eating Indian and Mexican food, shopping in the huge sokoni (market) and drinking lots of Konyagi (Tanzanian gin… known as “the spirit of the nation). We stayed at what can only be described as a very Instagram-able guesti in Moshi. On the first morning, I woke up early and went up to the treehouse in the backyard where they served coffee and breakfast. One thing I have really missed about home, is my routine of making my coffee in the morning and waking up my body on my yoga mat, while my apartment filled with the smell of fresh coffee. On that Saturday morning in Moshi I got a little taste of that old routine. I put the coffee in the French press and unfolded my mat. When I finished a quick flow, I sat in meditation, and when I opened my eyes, I was looking right at Mount Kilimanjaro which had come into view as the clouds lifted higher into the sky. These are the moments when I feel myself arrive deeper here.

As April rolled around it proved somewhat difficult to return from site visit to more training here in Morogoro. The last two weeks have been spent in wrap up sessions and final language exams. Over two months spent with a large group of people in such close proximity is bound to feel a bit like an episode of Survivor from time to time, and there is definitely a sense of tension as we all deal with the impending installation to site along with the emotions that come hand in hand with this adjustment. Every day I notice tiny epiphanies and opportunities to learn more about myself and how I can be more in line with goodness and positivity. It is, of course, natural to get frustrated and overwhelmed when moving through such a huge life change. But I realize more and more that most things can be eased with the offer of a hug, a smile and compassion and forgiveness for ourselves and all those around us.