A Unique Response to Disaster, A Maasai Viillage, and A Citry/Country Divide

(from Whitney Woodhull)

So my time here has truly been more incredible than I imagined. The people, the things, the colors, the sights, the smells we have seen and experienced, are extraordinary, and could never be expressed in words or pictures. To begin, I'll recap on this last week. So we finished up our interviews are beginning our analysis of our data, writing an outline of our paper, which is almost finished, and working on the photo-essay/film. Meanwhile, when we are out getting groceries, or visiting the hospital, we never cease to meet more people and hear their stories.

One day last week there was a terrible bus accident, where many people died, and tens were crippled and brought to the hospital. All day the gate outside the hospital was scattered with family members and loved ones waiting to get in. We asked our translators(now, our very good friends) why the people were hanging outside the hospital gate. And The boys responded, "Its not visiting hours yet." Apparently visiting hours are from 7-8am, 12-1pm, and 6-7pm. It was then 9am, since the accident happened shortly after 8am. These people would be waiting for another 3 hours before being let inside to see their loved one, if they were even still alive. Among our barrage of questions were: It is so hot outside, who brings them water? Where are their chairs for sitting? Surely they can't stand for that long! What about food? How do they even know that their family member is in there and not at another hospital or dead? The answers were sad, but blunt- No one brings them water, food, or places to sit. They have their faith and each other to comfort them in this heat, and it won't be until noon that their hopes will be confirmed.

This past weekend we traveled to Arusha to visit a Maasai village. The Maasai are semi-nomadic African tribe that live in very remote areas of Tanzania. We also went to a museum that spoke about their culture. During the tour, our guide was dressed in the typical maasai outfit. We of course asked him after the tour, if he really does live in a Maasai village, etc. And he said "Yes! I do." So we asked if we could visit him sometime and meet his family. We got his mobile number and so the following day we hired a taxi driver to take us to his home. We drove for about an hour across savannas and around mountains, to reach his hut, which was supposedly "not far at all, since I ride it every day on my bicycle". Well, it was very remote, and we arrived eventually, only to learn that we were the very first mzungus(Swahili word for "miracle", but that is what white people are called here) to visit his community. It was incredible. We sat inside a dung hut (yes, a hut made of cow dung and mud) and sipped chai, as the flies swarmed all over us. We met the people, who surprisingly knew a little English, but our Swahili really helped us out.

As far as obstacles, one theme has been eerily following us. The women, and sometimes men, give us an unfriendly stare. We live out in the country, and most people out here are incredibly nice and always return our smiles and greetings. But in town, people either ask us for money, want us to buy something, or just give us a rude look. We've tried overcoming this by giving them a friendly "Jambo!" or smile, but sometimes even that doesn't work. We are getting better with our Swahili, and many times a simple sentence asking them how their day was, can help to lift the curious barrier. One day in particular the other girls were feeling uncomfortable in town, as we were grocery shopping, when a couple of young male vendors followed us for a half an hour. I knew that they were simply wasting their day on us, rather than pursuing other customers, and that they would eventually leave us alone. So I just kept shopping, not worrying about them. But I could understand how it can be unsettling. Eventually they left us alone and we headed back to our house on a rather unusually hostile dala-dala (Swahili bus). We got pushed around a little, and again the rude looks for no reason. It was just a very interesting and disconcerting day, that left a bitter taste in my mouth about the people of this country. As we got back to the house, we decided we needed to just spend the night together, rather than inviting friends over as we had been planning on doing all week. As we returned to our house, it felt great to be back in the comfort of our home, and even the roosters that never stop crowing outside our window, had a comforting shriek. I kept an open-mind and tried to remember all of the other incredible people we've met so far, and didn't let this experience taint our perceptions. The following morning I woke up, and felt much better about everything.