No Post Today

I JUST DON'T FEEL LIKE WRITING ON MY BLOG TODAY.
The photo above is of me at a Halloween/Going Away party for our friends who are moving to a different region. My impromptu costume was a Catholic 40 days before Easter. That is all. End of transmission.

A Great Big Asante Sana to all of our Rafiki

ASANTE SANA IS KISWAHILI FOR THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

I'd like to send a word of gratitude to all of you who have supported Carla and I over the past four months that we have been in Tanzania with your phone calls, texts, letters, and packages. Especially the packages!
I cannot stress to you the amount of joy that getting a package from the U.S. brings us. Even the smell of the American air trapped in the box makes us homesick. When you are so far away from your friends and family, the smallest things can brighten up your day. So, please keep sending us letters, texts and packages, and keep us in your thoughts.

...and now for the shameless plea:
if you would like to contact us or send us packages or donate toys or educational materials, our mailing address is:

Tony Stonehouse
SLP 36
Kibakwe-Mpwapwa
Tanzania

Here are some tips to keep in mind when shipping packages:

• Try to keep it to 4 lbs. or less
• Padded envelopes seem to have fewer problems than boxes
• Don't claim the actual value on the parcel (it's more likely to be stolen)
• Write NCV (No Commercial Value) on the parcel
• Write "Vifaa Vya Elimu" (Educational Supplies) on the parcel
• Definitely ship using a tracking number (we've already utilized this system to find a missing parcel)
• Salty snacks are only available in the big cities in Tanzania

...and if you would like to call or text, we'd love to hear from you:
Carla: 011 255 782 033 350
Tony: 011 255 784 965 453

What's Goin' On

Over the past 2-3 weeks, we have been trying to make our house a bit more comfortable by painting, hanging things on the wall and mostly trying to create some semblance of the home we left in America. Slowly but surely we are making headway. I've posted several pictures that reflect a bit more of what life is like in Kibakwe. There's a photo of me walking on our main road or barabara kubwa with the bus that we take to Mpwapwa in the background (lime green with a kangaroo on the back). The other pictures are of the path from the main road to our house, women carrying water home from our bomba (water pump), a shot of the soko or market where we buy our vegetables, and a couple of the development of our house.

As you can see, without a fence around our courtyard, all types of livestock find their way into our lives. These goats were just a bit thirsty after a long day of grazing in the African sun. The other animals that frequent our neighborhood are chickens, roosters, guinea fowl, and cows.

The Moose Analogy

Even though we have been at site in Kibakwe for almost two months now, we still don't know everyone in the village nor do they know us. This brings about an interesting situation. Since there is a koki (water tap) right outside of our courtyard, many people - mostly women and children - come here to fetch water. Most everyone is very cordial and familiar with the wazungu(white people) living in the house by the koki, but occasionally there are children who are taken completely by surprise by our mere existence. When they see us, they stare and their jaws drop struck dumb by our presence. We greet them first in Kiswahili,"Habari za leo?" then in the predominant tribal language Kigogo,"Mbukwenyi?" At this point, we realize there's no amount of language that will be able to force comprehension on their part of our presence in their village. I tried to understand this behavior by putting myself in their place and I developed this analogy: Imagine you're walking down the street near your house, you look up, and there's a moose ten feet away on the sidewalk. It's safe to assume that this situation would render most of us not only motionless but speechless as well. Now, imagine the moose greets you in English,"Good day. How are you?" I think it might take us a while to get over the initial shock of a talking moose. In conclusion, Carla and I (and most white development workers in rural Tanzania), are talking moose.