CIE: Study Abroad Blog

Farewell to Mazinde Juu

Another long spell has gone by without me updating! This will be my
final post, since I leave tomorrow to go back to the States.
Thanksgiving was a very touching and entirely unforgettable experience
for me this year. The Wednesday before, we were getting a tour around
Father Damian's second primary school, Kongei. In the back area of
the school, there was a chicken coop and section for turkeys, which
Nikki and I briefly noted that we'd be eating tomorrow for
Thanksgiving dinner. Sister Christa, who was giving us the tour of
the school, immediate sprung into action, walking into the coop and
pulling out a turkey by the throat!
"Oh, no, it's ok! We don't need a turkey! Thank you, but we're
fine!" Nikki and I tried to tell her, but she had the turkey
upside-down by the legs faster than we could say "gobble gobble".
Nikki and I were stunned, and she continue to clutch onto the clucking
and disgruntled turkey for the remainder of our tour.
When we got to Father Damian's van to ride back, Sister Christa came
back out with the turkey, some rope and a large machete. On the sight
of the machete, Nikki squealed, and hid her head, and I simply looked
away, although my heart was pumping. Luckily, they did not slaughter
the turkey there, but they tied it up with rope and put it in a box in
the back of the van. We again tried to convince them that we did not
need a turkey, but the turkey was a token of their appreciate for all
we've done for Father and for the schools of Tanzania. We knew it
would be highly insulting not to take it, so we gave hugs of thank you
and piled in the car to go back to Mazinde Juu, the turkey fidgeting
and whining the entire way.
Because of Nikki and myself, Mazinde Juu was able to prepare its very
first Thanksgiving meal ever! Beside the ill-fated turkey, they made
soup, potatoes, rice, beans and all other sorts of goodies that helped
make me a little less homesick! Upon presentation of our cooked
turkey friend (it was roasted with neck intact), we grimaced slightly,
but quickly discovered that it was probably the best Thanksgiving
turkey we have ever had. The nuns were unfamiliar with Thanksgiving
and its history, and after we explained and had a blessing, Father
Damian said that it was one of the nicest meals he had had in quite
some time and from this year on, Thanksgiving would become a regular
holiday at Mazinde Juu.
It is time for me to fly back to the States tomorrow, therefore comes
a time of major reflection and a roller coaster of emotion. I'm
excited to spend time with my friends and loved ones, as well as
having access to the amenities that I have taken for granted, but at
the same time, I have experienced the birth of an entirely new family
in Tanzania. No longer will I wake up at 5am to sunrise and the
sounds of roosters and exotic birds. No longer will I be starting my
day with the jovial singing of the girls at mass. No longer will I be
able to look out the window and see misty mountains reaching above the
clouds. No longer will I be greeted by cows, goats and chickens
passing my way. In a way, it's as though the fairy tale has come to
an end. My experience in Africa was far beyond just a practicum, it
has reshaped the landscape of my entire life. Those I have met here
may not have many possessions, but they have given me the world, and I
cannot express enough gratitude.
I must thank everybody who has made this trip possible for me, in
particular Miriam, Melanie and Carla. Thank you for deeming me worthy
of this experience. Thanks to my parents for their undying love and
support, and thanks to all my other friends and loved ones back home
who followed me in spirit along the way (you all know who you are!).
And lastly, a special thank you to Father Damian and the Sisters of
Mazinde Juu. You have changed my life and I will carry a part of you
in my heart forever. Thank you for all you've done for me, Nikki,
Nazareth College and the students of St. Benedict's and Mazinde Juu.

Mungu Ibariki
(God Bless)
Josh

Beaches and bugs

One week at Mazinde Juu is complete, and in celebration, Nikki and I
got to spend this weekend in the beach town of Tanga, which rests
right on the coast of the Indian Ocean. Never in my wildest dreams
could I have imagined I’d have the opportunity to wade in the Indian
Ocean, particularly in the middle of November, while all of my friends
and loved ones are beginning their winter hibernation. It was also a
pleasant diversion being able to indulge in pizza and ice cream, two
things I have been craving throughout this trip.

I have become the unofficial school photographer since I’ve started
here, and I think I’ve done more picture taking than teaching! The
school is starting to put together their 2012 calendar, and most of
the pictures will be ones that I have taken. I’m flattered that they
have been so impressed with my photos (although, truth be told, I
think they’re far more impressed with my iPhone).

The way the classes are operated at Mazinde Juu are not all that
dissimilar to American high school classes. The classes are a bit
bigger, and they lack technology, but they are quite similar in
curriculum, structure and pedagogy, which has made the transition into
teaching a bit easier.

It is not uncommon to look out of the window during class and see
various forms of livestock peeking in. Grazing cows, goats and sheep
are common sights and distractions for students at Mazinde Juu, and is
still taking some getting used to.

When originally arriving in Africa, I was a little uncomfortable with
the insect life here, but it was nothing that I was not expecting.
However, I had not imagined that those native to Tanzania would be
fearful of the bugs. Many of those I’ve encounter have been
absolutely petrified, and on the occasions that bugs make it into the
classrooms, the students shriek and cower. The most incredible
situation occurred in my Pre-Form I English class last night, when a
giant moth (larger than the average butterfly) zoomed into the
classroom, causing nearly all the girls in the classroom to completely
lose control. Most threw their arms over their heads, while some of
the most extreme cases dodged for cover underneath the desks. Amidst
the pandemonium, some of the girls began to shout “Turn off the
lights! Turn off the lights!” I quickly darted over to the light
switch and clicked off a set of lights. As I did this, one
particularly brave girl stood up and began to follow the moth around,
with fire in her eyes. The other girls were watching her with
trepidation as she suddenly lunged forward and threw herself onto the
ground. In one swift move, she tackled the moth and had it by the
wings. She held it up for the class to see, as it thrashed around
trying to get out of her fingers. As the class let out one final,
collective shriek she raced to the door and let it free. She turned
to me smiling and said “Ok, sir. You can turn the lights back on
now.”

Josh

Soon and Very soon...

It’s incredible to think that my time teaching at St. Benedict’s is
already winding down. Just as I begin to solidify my teaching and
foster some of the most meaningful professional relationships I’ve
ever had, I must leave! But, all things must come to an end, and I am
looking forward to the challenges that await me at Mazinde Juu.
I was asked to teach the students a religious themed song in English
yesterday for a special service to be taking place on Saturday. Since
my knowledge in this area is somewhat limited, I decided on the
classic “Soon and Very Soon”, which both my parents and I grew up
singing in church and sunday school. Slightly fearful that they may
already be familiar with the song, I walked down to the school’s
chapel/cafeteria near the end of the last class to scroll the lyrics
across the aged blackboard. Hacking chalk dust out of my lungs, I
finished writing the lyrics to the song’s three verses as students
began to trickle into the room, even before the last bell rang. And
soon after came more students. And then, more students. Before I
could process anything, nearly the entire student body had made it
into the chapel to learn my song! Knowing that I had to sing to the
students and teach them a song without the luxury of music, I started
trembling slightly, allowing a nervous grin to take over my face.
I clapped my hands to get the attention of the 100-odd students, and
they shuffled their way into the pews along the side walls of the
chapel. I smiled and welcomed all the students.
“Habari za jhodi! I am going to teach you all an English song that I
used to sing when I was a small child. It is called ‘Soon and Very
Soon’”.
They mumbled the title of the song to themselves as I grabbed a stick
off of the ground to use as a pointer. Then, over the course of the
next five minutes, magic transpired.
The students required me to sing the song only once, before they
knew it by heart. I began singing slowly, pointing to the words with
my stick as I went along. By the second time around, the students not
only knew the song, but were out of the pews, smacking them with their
hands and sticks, throwing their arms in the air, wiggling around in
perfect rhythm. And every one of those 100 students sang with at the
top of their lungs and with all their hearts.

Josh

Settling in...

So much has happened over the course of the 10 days since my last
entry, that I’m unsure of where to even begin. The first weekend at
Mazinde Juu was a blast. A student picnic and a school dance were
held, allowing us time to bond and acquaint ourselves with the student
body. Of particular note, this weekend I was able to take my first
bike ride through rural Tanzania. Father Damian’s nephew came to
visit him last summer, and left a raggedly old mountain bike in the
guest house. The bike is a bit too big for Nikki, but it fits me
well, so I decided to take it for a spin, under the guidance of our
young friend George. The ride quickly proved to be terrifying, with
rocks, potholes, and mud covering the endlessly steep hills. There
were countless cuts, scrapes and near wipe-outs. In spite of the
pandemonium, I got a chance to see what must be some of the most
glorious scenery in the world. The Usambara mountains, while not as
well known as other mountain ranges, are no less extraordinary.
Steep, moss-covered slopes serve to cradle and protect Lushoto's
numerous homes, churches and schools.
Nikki and I began teaching at St. Benedict’s Parochial School (the
day school affiliate of the Mazinde Juu school) yesterday, and while
it has been very challenging, I have been able to establish a routine
and find ways of presenting material in a way that is understandable
to the students. The language barrier has been, unquestionably, the
greatest challenge. I am trying to focus on keeping my statements and
instruction short and straightforwards, since English is the second or
third language of these students. This requires much more
self-awareness than I am accustomed to, but I can sense improvement
with each lesson. Once I am over this hurdle, it will become much
easier to focus more on the pedagogy. The students and staff at St.
Benedict’s have been exceptionally warm and welcoming towards Nikki
and I, and every day begins and and ends with a smile everybody’s
face. As I slowly ingratiate myself to the student body and faculty,
I am becoming more and more involved in various school activities,
such as lunch duty, and dismissal, much to the appreciate of all. I
frequently think of my teacher colleagues back home while clamoring
for a copy machine, printer or even a phone to use. The lack of
electricity at St. Benedict’s forces us to get to the very core of
what teaching is all about; making an impact on students on a personal
level, something that can be sullied at times by the technological
barriers prevalent in many American classrooms.
I have been extremely touched by the reception we have received by
everyone at Mazinde Juu. There is no feeling that can quite compare
to that of 200 students singing a welcome song in your honor at
morning mass, complete with an African drum section! It was difficult
to contain my emotions that first morning in the church, but being
asked to make an impromptu speech, I gulped away the lump in my throat
and proceeded scot-free. The gratitude and hospitality we have
received from all the sisters and Father Damian has been overwhelming.
I never imagined I could feel so at home while being so far away.
They have made the transition so much easier. It has also been a joy
catching up with Srs. Fokas and Evetha, two nuns from Mazinde Juu who
received their college education at Nazareth, while I was an
undergraduate. I am feeling safe, comfortable and happy, and since
I’m aware that my time here in Africa will be very brief, I am making
the most of every minute.

Josh