Two Weeks Notice

It's hard to believe, but I am now less than two weeks away from completing the Fall program! And three weeks away from home!! Life in the homestay is beyond good. Since my family here is more wealthy (aka they own a generator for electricity, a television, a VCR (so as to watch Titanic of course!), and a Tsh 500,000 ($500) phone that can connect to the internet from anywhere - my baba is a businessman - he sells corn, beans and peas that are grown on his shamba (farm) in town), I have been eating mangos and pineapple for lunch and dinner and I LOVE it!

Our days are way less busy in Marurani. In Maroroni, we would be gone from our homestay from 7 in the morning till 6 at night - mostly because we had a full teaching sched (three schools) and extra projects on the side. In Marurani, we have a seminar with our primary school (either Marurani Kati or Umoja) from 9-10am everyday and then during the week, we have one subvillage community teaching and one subvillage community testing. So, our days are much more open. We are working to fill them with more community teachings (possibly the 5 churches, or another community group). We also have soccer practice everyday! From 4:30-6:30. Dustin, one of the American volunteers, has decided to coach the local soccer team, which is composed of 20 or so men. They have been improving by leaps and bounds, and are starting to actually play like a team - they actually pass to one another! Last week Wednesday it was evident that the practice had paid off when they whipped a rival village team 10-0. Our team is actually very young (we have several Std. 5 boys on the team - approx 12 yrs old) and very small. The uproar that went up from everyone in the village watching was crazy, and when the game finished, the crowd rushed the field to surround Dustin and shake his hand. All the men love him - they think he's the coolest thing since sliced bread - because now they actually have a formidable soccer team. Gaby and I attended practice last week. I have never felt more self-conscious in my life, because #1 I was a girl, #2 I haven't played soccer since I was in elementary school and #3 I was wearing workout pants, rather than the socially accepted kanga skirt. Luckily, Gaby was there with me. We touched the ball a whopping three times (woo!). But, at least, we got to fully participate in the conditioning. Since we were wazungu (foreigners), for some reason, the Tanzanians assumed that we were leading them in the sprints and so we raced across the field, and Gaby and I finished first! Although we realized later that it was because they were following us, it was an ego boost at the time.

Last week, we had a long weekend (4 days), so we went to Uganda and whitewater rafted the Nile. The bus ride was 18 hours, and super bumpy (especially if you were in the back of the bus, you got some air as we went over the bumps). We hit a giraffe! - the highlight of the bus ride for sure (the giraffe survived) - an attestment to how crazy the drivers here are - our driver kept going, completely unphased. But the bus ride was worth it. It was a two day rafting trip. Complete with the best food I've had since arriving in Africa, the most hardcore guides (several of the Ugandan kayakers that accompanied us - they would save us whenever our raft flipped over and then would kayak us back to the raft - were actually competing in an international kayaking competition a few days after we left), and Class V rapids, we definitely had several moments of extreme exhilaration and near-death but luckily, everyone survived (although some people got pretty intense bacterial infections - we found that screaming while charging into a rapid usually results in a mouthful of Nile water). The actual power of the water is amazing and HUGE, mostly due to the sheer volume of it. I pride myself on being a strong swimmer, but whenever our boat would flip, I would find myself being pushed around by the currents, whirlpools and force of the water. It was a surreal experience, but also made it the best ever, because your heart was pounding as you counted the seconds until you would surface at the top of the water. We had a raft full of girls, but we were determined to be as hardcore as the other boat. Therefore, before every single rapid we would do our "man cheer," which consisted of paddle pumps, chest jumps, head slams and of course, shouting in deep voices, followed by DO OR DIE! as our battle cry. I think all of our voices went hoarse from it all. Definitely, one of the best experiences here.

Here's to another week in the village. Woohoo! :)