It's been a while since this site has let me post, so here are some pictures...

1) Me teaching a guy how to play the blues on guitar. It was a hot day in Dar es Salaam, and he was very thankful for the lessons. Again I find it funny, as a white Canadian kid, to be teaching Africans how to play the blues.

2) The next two are pictures from inside a daladala on two seperate trips. Trying capture the experience in a picture is difficult, because you are so crammed that it is hard get enough room to take a picture- or you can't see anything through the lens because there are so many people. A daladala is a very inexpensive mode of transportation that is basically a vehicle slightly bigger than a minivan that gets between 30 and as many as then can fit (yesterday I had 42!) people squeezed into it. Let's just say... they get crowded.

3) A picture of the Mtono bus (from the inside, and then the outside) that goes from Mafinga to Jenny's village- about a 2.5 hour bus ride during dry season. The Mtono bus is worse then the other bus that goes (Malamsha) because it is smaller, more dangerous, and frequently breaks down. The two buses alternate each day, so one day you get the big bus, and the next you get this crappier one.

4) A nice picture taken by Jenny of the bus stand in Iringa at dusk.

5) A picture of Tanga at sunset.

6) Jenny and I in the Amani Nature Reserve (Northeastern part of TZ.)

7) This was my first experience playing peek-a-boo in a different language: "Wewe yupo wapi?" (lit: You are where?)

I hate pigs... and dogs for the most part. At least I hate the pigs and dogs that occupy the area near my house. Hate might be a strong word, but they are annoying. The dogs seem to start howling, and barking, and making noises like they are fighting or dying or both, around 11:30pm every night here. My best estimate has been that they don't stop until well after 2am, or possibly later. Now as for the pigs, they are much worse. They squeal, and snort all night. Worse then that some nights they start at 4am, so you have that to wake up to, and trying to sleep while a pig is making noise is not an easy task. The pig pen is in the back alley behind my house, so sometimes it is like they are in my house with the noise. I feel some solace though, as many volunteers in the area apparently have run into the same problem.

Change of topic, I should spend some time talking about the nose-picking that goes on in this country. It is a strange sight to see for a Canadian. What is more surprising is that this behaviour is not relegated to simply the children of the country, in fact it would seem that more often the adults are digging deep. Even more interesting is that the more respected an individual is supposed to be- say a head master at a village school, or a restaurant owner, or some of the politicians on TV- the more likely that person is going to be a nose-picker. Sometimes you'll be watching TV and there will be a politician who sticks his finger up his nose as a nervous habit. He will keep it there until he is done talking, which of course is funny, because that would about the time when the camera is NOT pointed in his direction. Another interesting "habit" here is burping. I guess it is a sign of a good meal if it induces burping. And burping in public here is like sneezing in America or Canada. Everyone does it, so it's no big deal. I happen to like these habits, and wish they were in place worldwide, but will have to wait for the world to catch up to us on that one.

A funny thing happened today after my classes. It was "Sports day," (every Tuesday and Thursday) and a teacher called me over to lead a group of students in exercise. I had no idea what I was doing but the students loved it... we did jumping-jacks, stretches, sit-ups (the students didn't know what those were), push-ups (the students did know these), and then a little running in place. After the "warm-up," I broke the group of about 45 students or so, into 3 groups and played a variation of a game I learned in acting class called Zip-Zap-Zop. To play this game you have a circle of people and starting with one person pointing to some one else at random saying "Zip," the second person then points to someone else saying "Zap," then that person points to another saying,"Zop," and then it starts over. I changed the game to "Shi-ka-moo." It is a greeting you give to someone older then you in this country. The kids liked this as well and I felt like a hero once again at school, which between this, mad libs, and hang man, is becoming a frequent occurrence these days :)

Finally, a funny scene. I was walking back from the bus stand at about 2pm on Sunday (the 7th) after walking Jenny to her bus back to her village, and I happened to see I thought I could share. I was near the last alley before my house when I heard a distant snorting sound, almost like someone waking themselves up from snoring too loud. I waited to cross the path before my alley because a bicycle was on its way. As the bike came closer the snorting grew louder, and as it passed me I could see what was going on. The guy riding the bike had strapped a 50 or 60 pound live snorting grunting pig to the back of his bicycle, and was cruising around town I guess. It looked funny as it passed, because it was strapped in tightly and only it's head was moving making the snort sounds. Anyway, I came to the realization that I have been here a while when the only thought that was in my head as the bike/pig passed me was: I hope that was one of the pigs from behind my house.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!

Coming back to school was a really fun experience. The teachers were welcoming, but the students were really excited to see me. When I poked my head into one of the classes one of the students goes, "Hahh, TEACHER GEOFF KNIGHT!" I have a new idea I want to teach to my students, that I have to run by the director of the school before I start implementing. I want to start a song-writing session for my students. I want to have the students each write a song, and then for their final exam, perform it either in front of the class, or if my meeting with the director goes well, in front of the school at the end of the term. All of this is for my class called hand/craft chich has a syllabus consisting of music, arts such as colouring, games, and animal husbandry. So as you might imagine it seems difficult to figure out exactly how to teach this class. In the mean time, I've been playing some hang man, and some mad libs with the class. Though they enjoyed mad libs, hangman is a sensation that's sweeping the school. Battles between the girls versus the boys have turned these normally timid students (to say the least) into maniacs running around the room when they guess a correct word. It's been fun.

The rest of the Arusha trip wasn't quite as exciting. Two things I noticed about Arusha, 1)It's expensive 2) It is a tourist spot, so if you are white you are treated like one. Many times while walking the streets we had these guys follow us trying to sell us things. Most often they would be hawking art that they made, and then following that with an invitation to see there store where they sell their art. After this invitation came inevitable inquires as to when we will go to their store, and why aren't we going right now. The worst spot was the sokoni, which means market basically. Sokonis are actually a lot like the farmer's markets of the western world, except there isn't quite the variety of items. There is however a very big sokoni in Arusha. The biggest is covered by a huge tent and has many twisting alleys walled by shops, vegetables, and massive open bags of rice. Anyway, as a white person you find that there are all of these very 'friendly' Tanzanians willing to follow you where ever you go to help you find what you are looking for. Not quite sure what their angle is or what they are trying to accomplish, nut they don't pull off a great sense of sincerity most of the time. This is especially the case when you are asked to go to their shop to see the art the make.

We also managed to spend some time outside of Arusha which was really nice. A place called Karatu is about 2 hours (if I remember correctly) from Arusha. The mode of transportation is really fun actually. There are buses that will take you there, however we took the cheaper (I think) but certainly safer route by using a car. This car was a nice ride. Decorated by a small picture of an Indian pop star in deep thought on the dashboard, the car was white with some rust and seated 8 people rather comfortably actually... well comparatively speaking anyway. It's what it looked like on the outside that I thought was really cool. It was a station wagon, sort of. It had the length of one, and the hood, but then it kind of morphed a little near the back end of the car, and it looked like a hybrid of a station wagon and the van from Little Miss Sunshine. The trip also included a really nice daladala experience while in Karatu. Daladalas are these glorified minivans that look like they might hold maybe 9 people, but somehow manage to fit 34 or so on a day that isn't busy. We were on a particularly crowded dala, which was too crowded for a head count, that had a roof that raised a few feet which was genius for those who were standing.

All in all- after nearly 4 and a half months- it's been an amazing trip so far. It truly feel like this was the right move for me, and that everything is working out better then I could have anticipated. I'll keep the updates coming... next post: Back at school