Cultural Saturation

***The internet is finally working, after about 2 weeks of nothing. The last post was actually 2 weekends ago, the following if from this last weekend***

On Tuesday we received about 10 new students from all across the globe who have come here to learn Swahili for various reasons. Some will take it back to their country, some are just interested, but most are going to work at a missionary establishment of some sort in Tanzania. There are two Germans, Mr. and Mrs. Dinkle, who just happen to come from Neundettlesau- a Bavarian city I spent a week in May term of my freshman year. So we have had a lot of fun talking about good ol' Deutschland. Also joining us are two south Koreans who I haven't really met yet, more to come later I'm sure. Teresea is a nurse from Texas who is just a blast to talk to and study with. Rikka is Finish midwife who is introverted but very fun. I have also picked up some neighbors on my dormitory block. Padre Sandro from Italy is a priest who is by far the most interesting Catholic I have ever met. He drinks and smokes and refuses to where the priestly get-up. He is an extreme liberal and works in Kenya. The Kenyans love him and I've heard he is doing amazing things for the ecumenical Christian community. There are also two Scottish people here as well, Louise and, ironically, Scott. Scott and I have already become best buds. He is 22 and we hang out all the time, study together, and we have had some very interesting adventures.

After a hard week of studying the teachers decided we need a little enjoyment. So 5 of the teachers/workers took Scott and I to a concert in Morogoro on Friday night. At least they told us it was a concert... it turned out to be much more then that. We left our rooms at about 8:30 and the taxis didn't come until about 9:30, so we had lots of time to talk, practice Swahili, etc. Ironically the place where we were going, the place that we waited over an hour to go to, was a 3 minute drive from LJS. Once we got there we paid (and by we I mean that Scott and I paid, the Tanzanians kind of mooched off us, so it was pretty expensive night, as far as Tanzanian Shillings go anyway), found are seats, and waited for the show to start. We were the only white people there. Generally, whenever I'm in Morogoro I see a few of my melanin-deficient brother mixed in with the crowd. But this was obviously a local dive, and not really a place you would see missionary workers if you know what I mean. I ordered a round of drinks for everyone and the band "Acudo Impact" started play. It was explained to me that the genre of music that "Acudo Impact" plays is called 'hyani wapya msitu wa'zamani' or 'new monkey old forest'. Its is supposed to be modern music with contemporary melodies but with a strong to tie to tradition African music. But I would place it in a genre closer to "heavy downbeat with loud whistles'. Apparently they are one of the top bands in Tanzania so it was pretty fun. But the most entertaining thing was the dancing. When we dance in bars or clubs in the States it is more thrusting and very sexual.

But in Africa everyone just dances with everyone and its a lot of good, generally clean, fun. And it wasn't just teenagers and twenty year olds, it was EVERYONE! I think there was a kid I talked to who was about 15 and there were also old ladies dancing with some of their old lady friends. And you don't have partners, you just dance with whomever is around you. Guys with guys, girls with girls, old ladies with prostitutes, whoever.

Scott and I also tried our hands at dancing. At first we were nervous, but we decided we couldn't be that bad at dancing. We talked ourselves into it and mustered up courage to go onto the dance floor. We were tall, white, and bigger then most of people there and as we walked onto the dance floor we felt like quite the pair of studs. But we soon learned that Africans are WAY better at dancing. I swear every Tanzanian comes out of the womb knowing how to dance and look good doing it. I danced the tradition white guy dance- here is how you do it, so pay attention closely:
1)pump your fist in a vertical motion alternating with the beats
2)never EVER move your feet, pretend they are encased in cement. Although, occasionally it is acceptable to bend your knees slightly
3) constantly look around to see if anyone is watching you dance but never make eye contact. Your head should swivel so much that you resemble some sort of deranged prairie dog looking for predators in the savanna.

For an example of the white guy dance you can go to any bar where there is a music and white people, it is the most common of all dances among Caucasians. I'm sure I looked ridiculous but next to Scott I felt like Fred Astaire. Scott has what doctors call rhythm impairment- its the worst case I have ever seen. Every one of Scott's limbs move at different times and NEVER did they EVER move in rhythm with the music. The song could have lasted for 5 hours and not once would have hit a single beat. Needless to say we didn't dance very long, but we had a great time observing and taking in the culture.

We originally thought the dance party/live music/beef kabob extravaganza would last until 12:00 or 1:00 in the morning- so Scott and I just enjoyed the music and atmosphere expecting to go home shortly. But 12:00 turned into 1:00, 1:00 turned into 2:00, 2:00 turned into 3:00, etc. We finally begged and pleaded with the teachers to let us go home. So Absalom, reluctantly, brought us back to LJS. I got to bed by 4:30. As we left, the band, who had been playing for nearly 7 hours, was still going strong. The African's were also dancing their butts off with no signs of stopping. I found out the next morning that the teacher didn't leave until 6 a.m. On the car ride home Scott was having a hard time breathing, we all just thought he was a really tired. Little did we know it was a warning sign of much worse things to come...

Saturday I went with PH and some American well drillers (who are currently staying at LJS) to the Maasai cattle market. This time I knew a lot more Swahili so I was able to chat, barter, and buy like a prow. I also brought my camera along (check the facebook page). Kim had left Thursday to go to Zanzibar with Audrey and Paul to the International African Music festival. I would have gone, but with my severe shellfish allergy Zanzibar is not the place for me. While I was jealous at first, I'm positive they did not experience anything as culturally saturated (or as fun) as me. So she wasn't at the cattle market this time. It turn out that Maasai men are a lot more prone to talk when there is not a female around. I, once again, had goat, but this time it was DELICIOUS. This is probably the 4th or 5th time I have had goat and it is really starting to grow on me. I especially enjoyed the liver. A big chunk of goat liver dabbed in salt... mmmm, nothing better.

Sunday I went with PH, the Bishop of Lutheran Church of Tanzania, and about 8 other wachungaji (pastors) in a very small truck to a mountain village that was 3 hours away. The first service we went was short but very exciting. We had a procession through the whole town with all the villagers, the ministers, and the Bishop in his regalia. He had a giant ebony staff, he was wearing many different colored robes, and had a huge popeish hat on. At that service there were two choirs, one of which had many people and a small diesel generator that powered their electric guitars and keyboard. It was great music and dancing. The second service we went to was a small church but with more people and it took an average amount of time. I sat next to a 13 year old boy named Barracka who spoke fluent English and translated the service for me. He introduced me to his friends and we had a lot of fun. On the way home I luckily did not have to sit in the cramped Wachungaji truck. Instead, Luka was driving a huge truck that we used to transport about 30 members from a nearby village. This included one secondary school girl, probably age 15 who made me promise to come back and marry her after she was done with school. We got back to LJS around midnight where I found Scott in a pretty terrible condition.

Scott had been feeling ill for most of the afternoon and they took him to the hospital. His malaria test came back negative and his urinalysis showed a tract infection. He took some pills and came back to LJS. Shortly after he threw up the pills. When I came into his room to see how his day was his eyes were bloodshot, his skin was clammy and pale, and Teresa was holding a bucket for him. I stayed with him for about an hour and went to bed after he seemed to be in a stable condition. I woke up multiple times to him throwing up and moaning in pain. We (Riikka the Finish student and I) took him to the 24hour clinic for his follow up appointment at 6:00. By that time he was having major stomach troubles going both ways if you know what I mean. The doctors concluded he was too sick for their capabilities and we transported him to Morogoro's big, central, government-run hospital. We registered him and got a doctors appointment shortly after. He was moaning and writhing in pain and the doctors sent him to Ward 9, the semi-serious ward. He was in a wheelchair being pushed by a nurse, I followed by his side, and Riikka was going to the pharmacy to get medication. Once we got to Ward 9 I almost lost it. Scott sat in his chair barely conscious and the nurse had gone to the nurses station to find a non-existent empty bed. The very first bed, the bed Scott was directly pointed at, had a corpse in it. It wasn't really the first thing we wanted to see coming to a foreign hospital with an unknown serious illness. After reassessing Scott's condition letting us stare at the corpse for a good 5 minutes, he was bumped up to Grade 1, ICU. The nurses really didn't do anything and for the 7 hours we were there and the doctor visited him once. All they did was give him cover up drugs so he would be fine for 2 hours then explode from both ends. And poor Scott was so weak and dehydrated he needed help standing up and cleaning himself... and guess who got to help with that... OH, and they don't use toiled paper... just your hands and a bucket of water. Needless to say our friendship reached a new level.

Karina, the German doctor who is also a student at the language school, came to assess the facilities and immediately decided he had to be moved. She contacted a minister from her missionary program who came at once to help us transport Scott to a competent medical facility just north of Morogoro. It was a lovely privately owned hospital that, with little prodding, performed all the necessary tests and procedures to help Scott recover. His 3rd malaria test proved positive with count of 3. Apparently the degree of malaria is measured in a parasite count. Scott had a very low number of just 3, natives can have counts in the 200s! But for wazungu (white people) just one will take you out. After the source of the illness was discovered his spirits improved dramatically and the correct medication started to turn his condition around. He was soon stable and I was dead tired. I had gotten only about 5 hours of sleep in the past two day and now I was running Scott around Morogoro. I'm very happy Riikka and Karina were with Scott because I was of little to no use by the end of the day. Karina volunteered to stay with Scott so Riikka and I could come back to LJS, shower, eat, and load up supplies to bring to them. It took about 3 hours for us to get everything we needed because Chooma (the school directory) and the kitchen matron were hellbent on preparing a special rice uji (porridge) for Scott to eat that apparently is the best thing for a sick person to eat. To me it just looked like watery rice, but it took 4 people 2.5 hours to make it so it must have been pretty damn magical! We got back to the hospital at about 10 and found Scott in a much improved condition. He was no longer throwing up and only having a little trouble with the backdoor. Karina stayed with him the whole night (unfortunatley he was only allowed one overnight guest) and the next day, today, after Swahili lessons, we brought Scott some supplies and Karina came home with us. Scott is able to spend the night by himself. He is almost fully functioning and we are looking forward to his return tomorrow.

Back at LJS, Audrey and Kim had returned from the international music festival on Zanzibar Island looking tan and happy. Audrey was very thoughtful and bought some CDs that I am able to rip to my computer. Swahili is going great and I am thankfully in a very health condition although, I am pretty tired.

Low: Listening to Scott scream and roll around in pain. I felt totally useless, there was nothing I or anyone could really do for him except hold his hand and puke bucket and wait for the medicine to kick in. He was in very critical condition for a while and gave us all a freight.

High: Scott is finally better and I can't wait to have him return. Please, everyone, pray for him and everyone else here at LJS.