5 May 2009

April

April was quite the month.  Earlier I wrote about how short 6 weeks at school would be, but boy did April throw that one off!  While January, February, and March flew by, April crawled.
That’s the funny thing about time.  The most continuous and linear concept is variable and fickle.  Even busy-ness sometimes fails to speed it up for nothing can compete with the sluggishness of time when one is living in anticipation or impatience.  It drags its feet like a child who doesn’t want to go to the dentist… or something like that.

Bottom line:  Tons happened in April, the slowest month of the semester.  Adventures were had, advice was given and received, tears were shed, laughter was enjoyed, sports were played, music danced to, tests taken.  People were seen, acceptances received, work done, planning completed… well almost.  (I have one tiny step left in the saga that is the acceptance of my CIS major.)

But for the sake of not being so vague, I offer you a story:

Once upon a time in April, I was working on an ethnographic research project on social class at St. Olaf.  My two project partners and I scheduled focus groups and coerced our friends into coming – a task that proved much more difficult than first expected.  People were hesitant to talk but once they got going, they didn’t stop!  We were left with pages and pages of comments, opinions, and observations of the dynamics of social class on this campus and millions of thoughts spinning in our minds.  As I went about my daily life – and continued to collect formal interviews – I found myself discussing the issue constantly.  It came up in conversations with friends because it was what I was doing and soon I found that everyone had hours’ worth of things to say!  I had conversation after spontaneous conversation on the subject because people’s minds and tongues were finally free.  This is a subject that many people analyze daily without even realizing it.  It can cause tensions and stress.  It is discussed without being discussed – talked around.   It is the elephant in the room.
Why is there a taboo surrounding the discussion of social class?  Why can’t we push past it and simply have a discussion?  Why do things have to be formal in order to allow for that?  I started asking these questions and got an overwhelming answer: “guilt and shame.”  People avoid the discussion of class for fear that they will be from different levels and one will be made to feel guilty and one will be shamed.  People are afraid that they won’t say the “right thing” or that they will offend someone else.  And yet, there is also resentment over unwillingness to discuss the issue.  People wish for a freedom of discussion so that uncomfortable moments can be avoided and proper respect given.   Bourdieu, a French sociologist, says that social structures that seem to be permanent are only perceived that way because of the great number of actors in the system who treat it and believe in it as such.  All it takes to topple a social norm is for the actors in the system to reject that norm – to change their actions.  So why don’t we?  Well… you try mobilizing that many people to talk about a subject so apparently sensitive for so long.  In the words of one of my interviewees, “it’s just not done in polite company.”

31 March 2009

6 Weeks

I can’t decide what I think about 6 weeks – whether it’s short or long.  In the context of study abroad or any sort of vacation, 6 weeks can take forever.  Each of the first 6 weeks in Tanzania felt like a lifetime.  But here, there are 6 weeks left of the school year and I feel like it will be gone in the blink of an eye!  And yet, so much can happen in 6 weeks and so much will happen.  There are connections to be made and goodbyes to be said.  There is  research to be done and papers to write.  I have to cement summer plans, register for classes, and train for next year’s RA position.  I have to plan my major and my life.   6 weeks:  6 Mondays.  6 Fridays.  In the end, not a lot of time.  Junior year is slipping through my fingers…

12 March 2009

A Mirror of Nature at the MIA

Yikes!  It’s been a long time since I’ve posted!

There are posts in the works but this whole adjusting-back-to-normal-school thing is a tougher exercise in time management than I thought!  Boy do I wish I were back at camp outside Tarangire right now.  I think I’d savor getting dressed in a 104 degree F tent…

BUT I’m not.  I’m here in the library at St. Olaf.  I should be doing my Stats homework as I wait for my next class to roll around – Ethnographic Research Methods (cause I didn’t learn enough lessons from my attempt in the field?!) but instead I’m zoning out.  I just took a Global Climate Change midterm.  Not so sure about that… heh.

Anyway, to keep you busy while I get some more interesting posts prepared, check this out: A Mirror of Nature: Nordic Landscape Painting 1840-1910 .  It’s a traveling exhibit that came to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts over a year ago now.  I went to it and, even though it’s not typically my favorite style, I quite liked it!  A favorite: Akseli Gallen-Kallela.

Enjoy!

7 March 2009

Just a thought

When we know we have the power to make someone’s day fantastic, why don’t we do it?

16 December 2008

Advent Conspiracy

I am home!  And it is snowing outside.  It’s beautiful.  Welcome to the Christmas season!

I’m pretty overwhelmed right now, as I try to get back into life here.  I visited St. Olaf on Sunday night and nearly drowned in the amount of information I had to process immediately.  I was fully aware that time passes at home while you’re gone and I thought I was prepared, but I guess you can’t prepare for it.  So now I’m sitting here playing and replaying all the details in my head, trying to get a grip on how my home reality has changed without me since July so I can move on and become a part of it once again.  Truth is, I just want it to be January so I can get back to school and start my social clean-up.  Ha.

But I am also, as usual, very excited for Christmas.  It was hard to believe that winter and December were happening while I was in Tanzania.  The occasional Christmas carol would float out of a storefront, but most of Tanzanian life went on as usual without the huge consumerist, snow-obsessed buzz that the United States is used to.  Even though I don’t personally like to spend oodles of money on Christmas gifts, I enjoy the cheer and traditions that come with the season and really missed walking through decked out malls and hearing Christmas music 24/7 on the radio.  So I’m glad to be home.

At jacob’s well on Sunday, though, they played this video before the service and I quite liked it so I’m linking to it.  There’s more discussion of it on this blog post if you’re interested but here’s the video.  The video’s home site is www.adventconspiracy.org.  Enjoy!

9 December 2008

Ukerewe Island

Well it turns out Mwanza is not my favorite place in Tanzania.  The city is big and dirty and not used to Wazungu, so just chilling for a week is not as easy as it is in Arusha.  Zoe and I walked around for two days, each thinking the other was doing what she wanted to do and so not voicing the fact that we hated what we were doing.  Ha.  We’re still such Americans.  Anyway, over a delicious lunch of sweet and sour chicken at a distant, deserted, touristy Chinese restaurant that offered a great view of the lake and some much-needed silence after crazy downtown, we called the number of a hostel on Ukerewe Island so see if we could spend a night.  We ended up spending two.  Pretty much, we got there and it was so much more chill than Mwanza and so so beautiful that we simultaneously decided we didn’t want to go back to Mwanza until we had to (I’m back here now because we have tickets to fly out in about six hours).

The hostel we called ended up being the cell phone number of a darling woman named Mama Ferista, who does technically run a hostel called Gallu Beach Hotel, but which is “closed for renovations” right now so we stayed in Ujamii Hostel, aka her house.  It was absolutely wonderful.  There was no running water or electricity, of course, and the mosquitoes were something to be reckoned with, but she has a whole slew of grandchildren around the house and she gave us cooking lessons (she is quite possibly the best cook I’ve met in Tanzania).  Once the kids figured out we knew Swahili and wanted to play with them, they were all over us.  They begged to take pictures and play with our headlamps, they fought over who got to sit in our laps.  They took us by the hand and dragged us to where music was playing so we could all dance together, and they fell asleep in our arms after dinner.  It was so nice to play with kids again!

We also went on a bike tour of the eastern side of the island with a less-than-enjoyable tour guide, Mr. Tumaini.  Not to be negative, but when I say less-than-enjoyable, I really mean I couldn’t stand him and he was openly deceitful and is the epitome of what I hate in Tanzanian men.  The bikes, too, left something to be desired.  Mine was too small, had no brakes, and the seat fell off every other time I tried to get on it.  Zoe’s got a flat tire in the first half hour and had no breaks either.  Oh well.  ha ha ha  The bike RIDE was beautiful, and I enjoyed myself despite the difficulties.  If someone were to come to Mwanza, I’d tell them in a heartbeat to go straight to Ukerewe – just bypass Tumaini Tours.

Time’s up again.  Sorry.  This may be my last entry from Tanzania, as I leave the day after tomorrow and plan to spend all day tomorrow on the beach of Mbudya Island.  Can’t wait!

peace

5 December 2008

Mjini Mwanza

Well Zoe and I finally made it to Mwanza and what a trip it was!

We stayed at my favorite hostel in Arusha, Ujamaa Hostel, for the night and watched a good amount of Friends episodes with the other hostel guests. I swear, I will never get sick of that show. The great thing about Ujamaa is that it’s set up like a house so that all the guests at the hostel interact like a family. We sleep on bunkbeds in one of the two rooms, we share a bathroom, we eat breakfast and dinner together around the dining room table each morning and evening, and we veg on the couch like one big, happy, Western-sitcoms-missing family. Ujamaa even has three dogs that we can play with in the yard (Jamie, they’re big now!). Love it.

Anyway, as much as we love Ujamaa, Zoe and I said our goodbyes on Wednesday and hopped an Akamba bus to Nairobi. We managed to cross the border quite easily, only being jipped by the ridiculous exchange rate when paying for our transit visas. FYI, at NO point in my time here in Africa has 20 USD been equivalent to 33,000 Tsh. No way. Oh well.

Nairobi brought our first taste of how much reverse culture shock we’ll have to deal with when we go home. It was full of multi-level buildings, flashing lights, and billboards in English! We waited for our connection bus in a waiting room that was playing competing English TV channels across the room and occasionally announcing bus departure times in a mix of English and strange-sounding Swahili. Out on the street, lights flashed and good hip-hop music rang out from pimped out daladalas and second-story nightclubs. The hecklers approached us as usual, but would ACTUALLY LEAVE US ALONE when we said a simple “No thanks.” WHAT?!?! I could hardly deal with it all.

Then, we got on our bus and drove through the night back Southwest to the Kenya-Tanzania border. We stopped at gas stations where we could pay for a toilet (at least these were still not westernized) and where we could get frisked by a policeman or woman before getting back onto the bus (A wakeup call to Kenya’s security issues, I guess).

We had no trouble at all when crossing back into Tanzania. Our residence permits let us in for free (insert a sigh of relief here, since the fee for re-entering Tanzania with out that would have been 100 USD). The drive through Tanzania (it’s daytime now) was hot as anything and quite long, but we finally made it to Mwanza. Except here’s where our trouble started. We got dropped off NOT where we thought and proceeded to get lost for about an hour with all our stuff on our backs… but then we made it and now we’re staying at the Christmas Tree Hotel and exploring the city.

My time is about out, so I have to go now. More updates later. I’ll be home in a week! How crazy is that?

2 December 2008

Tumefika Juu ya Mlima Kilimanjaro!

Well we made it! Mt. Kilimanjaro (5,985-ish meters), the Roof of Africa, was conquered by myself and three good girlfriends at 6am local time on November 28th, 2008. aka: during Thanksgiving dinner for all those in the United States.

We hiked for a total of 5 days through about 5 different ecological zones, all beautiful and all still pretty pristine. We met people from all over the world and found ourselves worrying about how these perfect strangers were doing as they climbed. We shared blister band-aids. We climbed endlessly and then descended in a rush. The stars were beautiful, the view was breathtaking, the glaciers are still there – somewhat – and the adrenaline was phenomenal.

I’m currently sitting in an internet cafe in Arusha, Tz, killing a day before my friend Zoe and I head to Tanzania’s second largest city, Mwanza. Mwanza is in Northwestern Tanzania, on Lake Victoria.  It is famous for its fishing industry and – I’m told – holds a lot of economic power because the region is also good for mining and coffee.  It’s supposed to be a beautiful city on the lake, surrounded by hills studded with huge boulders.  There are a number of islands near Mwanza that offer great “getaways” as well.  Zoe and I have no plans as of yet, so we’ll see what we end up doing.  Personally, at this point it’s fun just to hang out in these cities.

28 November 2008

Uhuru

I have no pictures of the hike to the summit because it was way too cold to stop and take my camera out but that hike was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced. I hiked with my headlamp off, trusting the guide and the light from others’ lamps. The hike to Gilman’s was spooky. Every so often we came upon Tanzanian men whose job it was to assist along the trail. They lay along the side of the path, half frozen, looming out of the darkness like fallen soldiers. I managed to breathe a greeting to a few but only one ever responded. It was too cold and there was no air. We passed climbers on the side of the trail, out of breath or on their hands and knees, vomiting. Young, fit climbers were being carried to the peak; their eyes blank, a dead weight on the shoulders of the men who carried them. Things got emotionally and psychologically difficult but there’s not enough air up there to take that initial gasp you need to cry so I looked at the stars and followed Orion to the peak; one foot in front of the other, deliberately climbing over and around boulders, ignoring the precipitous drop into the darkness of the crater to my right. From our height I could see glimmering cities on the Kenyan and Tanzanian feet of the mountain. Looking back the way we came, tiny bobbing lights snaked down at an impossible angle – many people were attempting to peak that clear night and we were in front. We kept going, listening to our guide, Josef, softly chanting tunes to pass the time and lift the spirits. As we circled the crater, reaching peak after peak that wasn’t Uhuru, dawn came and Orion set behind the elusive Uhuru ahead. Behind me the world was soaked in the widest sunrise I have ever seen. 270 degrees of light silhouetting Mawenzi and drenching the glaciers in pink and orange. It got colder and steps got harder. Time stretched to eternity but it was beautiful. The glowing ice was magical and the moment was mine. No cameras could have captured it and no words described. There was no air or energy to exclaim so I rejoiced in silence. I’ll remember that dawn forever.
The peak finally did arrive and I was so befuddled by cold that I didn’t do it justice despite the huge effort it took to bring my camera that far. I guess some experiences live best in memory.Uhuru Sunrise

- written 14 June 2009 -

24 November 2008

here i go!

Hey all!

I’m writing from the Marangu Hotel in Moshi, Tanzania.  We have been briefed and are now “prepared” to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro tomorrow.  We will do a five day climb via the Marangu Route and will reach Uhuru peak about the time all you USAers are eating Thanksgiving dinner – if all goes well, of course.  So, wish me luck and Happy Thanksgiving!  I’ll be sure to let you all know how it goes when I get back down.

Cheers!