My Bus Stop Saved me from a Marriage Proposal

I’m a little on the naieve side. Let’s get that one out of way. I am definitely too trusting and my brain takes a while to catch up on things that should be very obvious. But ah well not to worry I’m learning-here’s a hint though if after you say you aren’t married a Tanzanian pastor starts talking a lot about God sending him a woman that might be a hint that he isn’t just being really friendly and open. 

I’m adjusting to life in Leganga which has a very slow but set pace to it. I think it has been very good for me. I’ve learned a lot about joy and taking the little things for granted. As my host Abel said at dinner the other night, “We have everything but money.” They really look out for each other and people do their best to greet me in the street–even going out of their way to speak English which is making it a little harder for me to practice my Swahili but I appreciate the gesture. The food has also been mostly amazing. They don’t use a lot of seasoning except salt but everything apart from fish stew has been excellent. (The fish stew was not for me and what made it worse is that the host was watching me eat it and lets be honest moms always know when you don’t like their cooking-I did my very best to lie but I don’t think she bought it.) 

Anyways what have I been up to the last few days? Well Sunday afternoon I went into town to buy a pen because all of mine exploded in the airplane. This was my first outing alone which was an alright experience but as I have told several people there are far too many men sitting on bikes ready to try out their english with phrases like, “Hi Sweetheart,” “Hi Hot Mama,” and the age old tradition of blowing a kiss. I suppose I should be flattered as I’ve never been that much of a target of this before but it mostly just made me feel a little uncomfortable. I really enjoy going out for walks as there are birds everywhere! You would not believe the number of ducks playing in the road. (This morning I saw yellow baby ducks playing in the road and that just about made my life complete) Well what’s left of the road it’s a little bit of a muddy mess at the moment. 

Gabriel the man who took me to mass in the morning did as all good grandpas do and came and mooched dinner off of us. This was the fish stew night so I wasn’t terribly upset to not have more food. He is very friendly and I love talking to him. He was very impressed that I knew what to do in mass and I got to explain to him that all Catholic churches do it the same way. He was also amazed by snow. He also has this wonderful habit of saying, “Are you okay?” everytime I run into him. He says it in a way that makes it feel like he genuinly is worried.  He’s just very very nice. After dinner we usually have a cup of tea on the porch-which is where all the eating is done. Gabriel and I got to do that Sunday evening and I really liked sitting their and drinking tea while watching the rain in Africa. There was also a giant frog at dinner which was another excellent thing to see in Africa. 

I helped Lillian with the dishes where I’m pretty sure I don’t do any of the work as my assigned duty is rinsing and stacking but I try my best to be useful. I discovered that Lillian used to want to be a Doctor and I can totally see it, she is very smart. After the dishes I got invited inside their house for the first time which felt like a big deal to me. I watched soccer with them and watched the kids learn how to play checkers. That is another really beautiful thing they don’t take anything for granted. Giovani, the youngest, found a pencil in the street today and it’s his new favorite toy-it’s really beautiful how greatful for everything they are. 

Monday morning we went to the school on the great public transporation. It’s basically guys in a van with a certain color stripe that drive to and from places with the doors open shouting if you want a ride. The vans are crammed beyond belief and while it’s kind of fun its a little terrifying as road rules are merely suggestions. At some point the van man comes around shaking a handful of coins and you hand him your money. You have to be paying attention to where you are so as to make sure they stop. There are center seats so if you are in the back and want to get out you kind of have to climb over everyone. This give you anxiety? Wait until you are riding it without your hosts you’ve been forcefully dragged aboard and a man is offering you his sugar cane. I’m getting ahead of myself, sorry.   

Monday at the school I worked with the “baby” class which is 3-4 year olds. They were working on writing numbers and I spent a very enjoyable morning helping a girl decipher the difference between a 2 and 4 while Osheam our special needs kid at the school played with my hair and cried. The other kids also are fascinated by my hair and my tattoo. I suppose to them it is very different. I’m not sure they believe me when I tell them its a tree. During recess I got put on swing duty and only got yelled at once! The kids love to sit on the swing together which isn’t super safe and whenever I look away they like to fall off or stand up. I honest to gosh had one little girl wait till I wasn’t watching and then jump off and cry. I didn’t get yelled at for that one because the teacher saw it. The kids are very good at taking turns and sharing–hence the two people on a swing at one time. There is something so wholesome about two kids with their arms wrapped around each other swinging.

 Everything is done by hand so I wrote up the worksheets for each of the kids. (Today was kitchen utensils and I’m sorry I can’t draw a spoon to save my life and now these children will never recognize a normal drawing of a spoon.) My cup drawings are pretty alright. They work on them as a class and then individually practice tracing them. (Even better now there is a whole village of 4 year old children who can’t draw a spoon.) Then I got to teach colors which involved holding up different colored objects asking what color it was and then asking them to repeat. It’s very gratifying to have a whole group of kids scream “color blue” at you. Then it was story time and I got to read to them about a Native American Pow-wow which was interesting and what they had but I’m not positive it was the most helpful towards learning English. The teacher Anna and I wrote in the homework for the kids for the day and then it was lunch time.

Lunch is homemade on a fire and is usually very tasty. We ate inside because it was too cold for the kids outside and its custom at least at the school to eat in complete silence which is kind of weird but a really effective way to keep kids from getting distracted when eating their food. They did like to proudly tell me where their nose or ears or mouth is and then show me where mine is and that again just made my day. 

In the afternoon I was in the older kids class room and I watched them learn how to pronounce words with the short “e” sound. Then we had a dancing break and the kids were very excited that I knew Baby Shark. I never thought having that song ingrained in my brain would be useful but here we are. We also did Head and Shoulder and Macarena. Story Time again of which I am designated reader probably because I am the only native English speaker. This story was about Tortillas and how they are made closely followed by one about soccer which I just substiuted out with football. 

The kids slowly get picked up between three and four and by the time everyone was picked up except Samuel who we walk home it was pouring rain. Yes I saw the rain down in Africa and have since seen it several times. Oseana, who was walking me to the bus station (She is the teacher for the older kids) and I huddled under Samuel’s family porch. It is very common in these villages for houses to get finished over years and years and so this particular house was very much so still a skeleton but it had a roof which is what mattered. Oseana quizzed me on my still terrible Swahili and we talked about her favorite artists Rihanna and Jason Derulo. 

By the time we could walk up to the bus station the road was literally a river and we just had to walk up it. Oseana was very cold and had a blanket wrapped around herself but to me it was an equivalent of a summer rain–I think they think I’m a little weird. She pointed out the bus I was supposed to get on and I ran over asked the guy if it took me to the place I wanted to go and hopped on. I felt very accomplished. A guy hopped on and started talking to me and he was very friendly. He was Pastor Norris, he was single, he wanted God to send him a woman. You know you really should be able to read the signs. I didn’t I was just very friendly. When he asked for my number I assumed it was because he wanted to talk more about his mission with me. Guess who got blocked very quickly. Ah well I’ve fulfilled my Dad’s worst nightmare. 

I got off the bus and wasn’t sure how to get back to the house but had a vague sense of the direction so I figured Roman Catholic Street was as good as any. You know what it worked. When I got back I had to wring everything I was wearing out but I suppose now I don’t have to wash these clothes now. Dinner was delious and then dishes and bed. I’m a little sick so I’m trying to sleep a lot. 

This morning I dragged myself up and we went to school. Today instead of being with the kids I was writing a grant proposal for funding. This felt a little more high stakes. One because it’s something I can actually do to help and two it has actual consequences unlike a lot of things I’ve written. So I spent my morning writing a proposal on why kids should have funding so the girls don’t have to sew outside in the rain, the cook doesn’t have to make food in a closet, and there should be more than two toilets for 50 kids. It was definitely a more taxing morning but the kids ran in and out which was really lovely. The kids also like my glassess especially putting my hair into my glassess. 

At lunch today I had a girl ask for me to sit with her well more like she forcefully demanded but I’m moving up the social ladder at the school. Then in the afternoon I helped in the older class room again and was asked to teach something. So my brain being the way it is I went up to the board and drew a chicken which they all knew what that was. Then I thought, okay I can just draw different animals and see if they know the English word for it easy enough. Well it would be until you have seen me draw. I had to keep erasing and trying different animals. Furthermore, I had a kid helping who whenever I took to long pointed back at the chicken so the kids would periodically chant chicken while I was trying to draw something that looked like a pig. (I did teach them snail and bee so I did okay) My helper thinking to be even more helpful started suggesting things for me to draw like a bed. I can’t draw those either. Finally, the teacher took pity on me or maybe she got sick of hearing chicken. 

When there is about a half an hour of class left she just tells them to go to sleep and steps outside. She knows full well that the kids are going to play as soon as she leaves the room but she just doesn’t want them to be loud. We attempted to talk but my Swahili is lacking. 

Osean once again walked me to the bus stop and pointed out very specifically which bus I should get on. Unfortunately, I was accosted and literally dragged onto a different bus. I did ask several times if it was going to Leganga and thankfully it was but I wasn’t given much choice in the matter. It’s a little unsettling to be man handled into a bus. I moved to the back and sat next to a man who was busily chomping away at sugar cane. I have mastered the generic Swahili greetings so we exchanged that and then he offered me some sugar cane-”Karibu” When I shook my head I think he thought I didn’t understand and switched to English-”Our language is very simple-it means welcome-you are welcome to have some.” 

“Thank you but no.”

“Where are you from?”

“The U.S.A.”

“Ah I have always wanted to go their what is it like?”

“Well the people are much happier here.”

“That can’t be true you are American and your smile is so beautiful and smart.” Today thankfully thats when my alarm bells went off in my head. 

“Thanks.”

“What is your marital status.” 

… 

I might have lied. I told him I was married and convinced him-Sorry Chris I have a lot of recent pictures with you incase I needed to further back it. 

“Ah, where is your husband?”

“The U.S.” 

“So–you need a Tanzanian husband?” 

That was not what I was expecting–”Um no.”

“So you don’t want a black husband.” Keep in mind he was eating sugarcane this entire time 

“Umm no.”

“You hate black people?”

“No, I just already have a husband.”

“Ahh so you are a moral person.”

“Yes.” 

Then he promptly ignored me for the rest of the bus ride that thankfully did take me back to Leganga. 

Feeling very discouraged I went down the Roman Catholic Street again which goes right by the church. I got to see baby chicks which made it a little better and some kids said hi. Then if you would believe it the same guy from the bus drove by on a motorcycle and said-”Married Mzingu (white person)” then a middle school boy went “Mzingu bitch.” The kid probably didn’t know what it meant but I’d had enough. I detoured into the church and took some time praying–and definitely felt better. Then I did something very impulsive-I murdered a person. No just kidding. 

I heard the choir practicing outside and thought I’d do my best to tell them how wonderful they sounded. I edged my way up to them and was dragged into the choir. After we sang a rousing chorus of Alelulias complete with running in place one of the members who spoke English asked me about myself and once he found out I was in a choir asked me to sing with them. I said yes and got thrown in with sopranos who don’t speak English but are very very friendly. They have to handwrite all the music so I’m struggling a bit with reading handwritten swahili and even more with singing and dancing to it at the same time but they are so friendly. I’m singing at mass on Sunday and I think next week I might be singing for the Tanzanian president. I asked them if they wanted me to come back and they said yes. They said they’d never seen a young mzingu have anything to do with church and were very glad I was there. We will see if I can keep up. 

This definitely cheered me up to feel so welcome and I practically skipped back to the house. I arrived just in time to not help with dinner except for grating a tomato so I will have to do better tomorrow. Dinner was ugali which I really like and am going to have to figure out how to make and then Gabriel the grandpa and his wife showed up. She only speaks Swahili so I had a very short conversation with her and she seemed to think I did okay but if I’d wanted to say I was something besides good or tired it wouldn’t have gone well. 

Gabriel’s question of today was why my school didn’t teach Swahili and I couldn’t give him a great answer as his grandkid was sitting there learning English but ah well. That’s the jist of the last few days and I’m sure I’ve gone on for far too long.

Song of the Post: The Gospel song I learned today but I’m not positive what it’s called

Quote of the Post: “You are okay?” Gabriel when I saw him tonight