Read a Book

Read a(nother) book

I’m just finishing reading “Nine Hills to Nambonkaha” by Sarah Erdman (thank you Dr. Matt and Lisa!). The author spent two years (1998-200) in a small village in Cote d’Ivoire in West Africa. It’s an amazing story of her life in a small isolated village where the problems of the “modern world” are just beginning to encroach on centuries of tradition. It’s very good and I’m getting chills as I’m reading about a well-baby program that she’s worked to establish for the mothers in the village and the empowerment that the women feel with the knowledge they’ve gained. It would be a great book club book!

But even though Cote d’Ivoire is on the other side of the continent, the description of daily life would be very similar to villages in Tanzania, even near Arusha. Some people have said they thought we were brave, or sympathized with our potential electricity shutoff (which has not been mentioned again due to heavy rains in the reservoir area), but compared to the author of this book, we live in a suburban paradise. You can’t imagine how much work it takes to simply live here—and probably for most people around the world. Everything takes so much time and effort and all of the safety nets we take for granted simply don’t exist. The line between living and dying is very fine, even for those with some education or money. They live without expectation of change, yet they are unfailingly friendly and generally helpful. Yes, there is crime. Yes, we are hounded by begging and street hucksters whenever we step out of our car. Yes, the prices offered to us are always too high because we are “wazungu”. That’s a part of life here. But when we ran out of gas, 4 people gave up an hour to help us. When we practice our Swahili, people are patient and gently correct our grammar to help us learn. We are not very brave—the Tanzanians who live and work and raise families are the ones with courage and strength. They’re the ones to be admired.

By the way, the word “mzungu” or “wazungu” is the term applied to all white people here. It can be a slur, but is generally just a collective term, and one that we use about ourselves as well. It literally means “one who goes around in circles”. The story is that when early Europeans arrived and explored the area, they went from point to point and eventually ended up back where they started (in a circle). Later, it came to mean the people who went around and around, not knowing what to do. We feel that we fit that description completely, as we rarely know what to do or where to go when we start out!

Also, by the way…apparently the main water pumps for most of the city of Arusha are above us on the mountain. And they can’t turn off the power here or there would be no water for the city. So—wow for us.