Overnight in Qatar

I owe a big thank you to my parents for my awesome experience in Qatar! So for all you travelers out there, sometimes you get crappy luck with layovers – and I managed a 15 hour layover in Qatar (overnight, no less) on my return flight. Originally I was supposed to fly from Johannesburg but as that was cancelled due to my being sick, I ended up with a somewhat random flight out of Dar es Salaam. My parents got me a hotel room in Qatar – and at a 5 star Marriott, no less!

Arriving in Doha, Qatar was much like arriving save one detail: we arrived in the middle of a sandstorm! Qatar borders Oman and Saudi Arabia so you can imagine it is smack dab in the middle of the desert! The sandstorm didn’t bother me in the since that there was sand all about, it looked more like a permanent tan haze. I got off the plane and headed through immigration – but I had to buy an impromptu Visa! The bad news is I had to drop 30 bucks just to leave the airport, the silver lining was that I got a Qatar Visa stamp in my passport – both arriving and departing!

Leaving the airport was strange. It is one thing to read about things like burkas and turbans, even to see the occasional one in the United States. As I walked out of baggage claim and into the lobby in a fairly crowded room I felt all eyes stare at me. I stuck out like a sore thumb no doubt – jeans, faded tee shirt, and my WFP feed the world bag – and I was the only Westerner in sight. Seeing the women was conflicting – all I could see were pairs of eyes staring back at me through a slit in the top of the burka. Were they sad? Confused? Angry at my imposition? I don’t know – most just stared back blankly. The men I couldn’t read either, they didn’t laugh or point or appear angry, but they stared just the same. I felt more like a foreigner in that moment than I ever felt in Tanzania, but I also wasn’t prepared to acclimate!

Marriott arranged for me to get to the hotel via a taxi. The drive was short but I still got out of the airport and got to see Doha. It’s somewhat cosmopolitan, surprisingly. I felt tired and the haze made me feel like am I even seeing this clearly? Figures disappeared beneath clouds of sand thanks to the sandstorm. Buildings lit up, signs posted in both Arabic and English. Bright lights and shiny windows.

The hotel was lovely – one of the nicest I’ve ever been in. It was amazing to take a hot long shower with water pressure after 3 months of cold drip-drop showers! I enjoyed some Italian thanks to room service and free high speed internet too! I felt something like a princess strolling around my hotel room in a spa robe (provided by the hotel). It was a total treat – I never travel this way – and truthfully I think coincidence complemented me, as my parents only trust the Marriott hotels! Thanks Doha, for having a 5-star one!

Picture: the view from my balcony – no it’s not blurry, it’s the sand in the air!

Goodbye Bagamoyo!

My last day (rather, morning) in Bagamoyo was really nice. I went to the house with the triplets with Charles and other UKUN volunteers for about an hour. We just played and I cuddled with Kennedy – the triplet that has warmed up to me the most! They are all just adorable though. Saying goodbye is never easy for me – I teared up saying goodbye to the staff.

Really one of the most amazing things about the program was the staff. I know so many of the volunteers felt that way. They really are a family and you become part of that family when you are there. Especially staying for 12 weeks I really got to know them and spend time with them. Some days if I had my afternoons free I’d hang out with the kitchen staff – Chiku, Robert, and Edda and help cook (I was the resident chapatti expert haha). Every day Edna and Paulina, the housekeepers, are so cheery and sweet they make you smile. And Mama C is just everyone’s second mom over here, she is so calm and relaxed despite how stressed she must get managing the houses and all the volunteers! Didase is so silly and always makes you laugh with his unique perspective on everything. And Mama Thea is an inspiration – her story of focusing on education and working her way up and now the work she is doing to bring volunteers into the community, she is a great leader by example.

It wasn’t easy to say goodbye. I already miss them and my life there – waking up and biking to school, teaching, running errands, having lunch, spending my afternoons making home visits to HIV/AIDS patients, dinner then a drink with friends. It was wonderful – and I have a renewed conviction in what I want to do in life to work directly with and for people who seem to have so little but are truthfully some of the happiest people in the world.

Picture: Me and Elias, one of our drivers, saying goodbye before I left!

Farewell Party

I had a great last night in Bagamoyo! I had a farewell party at Hillside, the bar close to CCS. I was so surprised when the entire staff of the Anglican Daycare came! Julius, Agnes, Upenda, and Babu (the cook) surprised me with another beautiful gift – a shawl, to be draped around my shoulders. It’s gorgeous!

I was in the company of great friends I made over the trip – Eva, Matiga, Rasti, Kristina, Carlee, Adam, Dane, Kelly, Devon and Anna – but I was definitely missing a few people. Especially the other half of the fab four – Nick and John – as well as the rest of the original crew. Still we enjoyed an extended curfew and traditional African hip-hop music (hello baybeee)!

I feel like I got most of my tears out in the morning which was good, I was really able to enjoy my farewell party. Everyone asked what I’ll miss the most and it’s no contest – my kids. Each and every one of my 36 kids. I hope they remember me and how much I love them!

Picture: Agnes and Upenda surprising me with the shawl

Meeting the Twins' Family

Today was my last day at school, but it was also the first time I met the parents of my twins, Paulo and Paskali, that I write about so frequently. The father came to school to thank me for the backpacks for the twins. He invited me to their house so I went after school with the twins and my teacher.

It has bothered me for some time how hard my teacher is on the twins, I feel like he picks on them. It was an eye-opener for both of us to see where they live. Their father rents a small room in a traditional mud-brick house with tin roof (no windows). The whole family lives and sleeps in one room. The parents share a double bed and the twins sleep on foam cushions on the floor. Their school clothes I always noticed were torn, buttons missing, dirty, and their personal clothes are even more worn. They wear pants that hardly fit and shirts that have tears and holes to where you wouldn’t hardly recognize them as articles of clothing.

The parents were kind and generous, offering me traditional Tanzanian chai and bread. It is clear that these are the poorest students at my school yet the parents find a way to pay the 5,000 shillings per student per month (a little less than 5 USD) for them to go to school. It makes me feel like the extra attention I spent trying to get them to write letters and focus was worthwhile. I think these twins just need extra attention and love, they have little resources and a very poor family. I am hopeful that they will continue with their education in the years to come.

Picture: The Mbaga family – the mother Fatuma, the father Joseph, and the twins Paulo (in red) and Paskali

Last Day of School

Today was my last day at placement. It was really hard to say goodbye to my kids. In 3 months here I feel like they have become a part of my life, they are not just cute little kids but they are little people that I know and love. I feel like I really know them – who is shy, who is outgoing, who is smart, who has trouble. I know their family situations and all of their names. Most didn’t understand I wasn’t coming back – they kept saying “kesho!” which is like “see you tomorrow.” But I am leaving so that is the reality.

The church and school got me a gift – a beautiful conga – and presented it to me at the end of the day. I was moved by the gesture, especially since they have so little and yet gave me such a nice gift. I felt progress with my students – we finished the alphabet today and their handwriting has really improved! I may not have taught them much, but at least that is something I am proud of.

Tomorrow I leave for the USA – I fly from Dar es Salaam to Doha, Qatar where I stay the night. The next day I fly to Washington D.C. where my mom will pick me up and drive to North Carolina. Sunday we drive to Florida where I will be for 2 weeks.

Picture: The Minister of the Church and Cook presenting me with the conga. I’m also holding lightness because she was crying from falling down earlier.

Sijali's story

Sijali is a beautiful 41 year old woman who is living with HIV that has progressed to AIDS. I met her 3 weeks ago and have had several visits with her. She has been married 3 times and has 5 children from those relationships. All three men are still alive but she now lives at home with her mother. All her children are grown up and live in Dar es Salaam although they come and visit her. She has 3 brothers but 2 have died – one in a fight over a woman, the other from intoxication of being drunk. She says she has too many sisters to count, over 10 at least.

What struck me about Sijali was how frankly she discussed things – she lives with her mother because her mother went and took her from the husband who wasn’t taking proper care of her, she wasn’t taking her ARV medication and thus getting more sick. Once she recovered she went back to him and the same thing happened again, only this time she got TB, a respiratory infection. She is back home with the mother but weakened significantly by the dual medications of ARV and TB – so much so that even trying to eat is strenuous. The mother takes care of her but one eye is burned shut, so she only sees through one eye. Additionally, because Sijali is immobile she’s acquired a fungus on her feet and neck that have caused the feet in particular to swell, the skin stretching across bumpy swollen lumps on both feet.

Charles and I stayed with her a while, hearing her story, and also explaining to her who I am and why I came to see her. We checked her CD4 count and she’s doing okay and hopefully it will go up as she continues to take her medication. The hospital is changing her medication to a different ARV so that will complement the TB medication and not weaken her so badly. We gave her an ointment for the fungus and next week I will go back with body oil to massage the feet and hopefully keep the skin from tearing – if the skin tears it may become infected and since she has progressed to AIDS even a minor infection may cause her to die.

My last visit with Sijali we talked more – she says she wants to get better and doesn’t want to live in pain. She has improved in terms of mobility, once a week she goes to the market. It still takes her time – as much as 5 minutes to stand then walk across the room. We laughed as I explained through Charles what an airplane is and how it takes so long to get back to America. We talked to her mother about Barack Obama – she cannot believe he has black skin. Once more, she can’t believe mzungu (white people) voted for him! I think she was encouraged though, to hear me talk about how he loves the people of the world and America.

Mwajuma's Story

A week ago I met Mwajuma, a woman who is extremely poor. She lives on the porch of someone’s house – outside, on a rope threaded cot with no blankets or walls. A few months ago, she was bitten by a rat and became infected to the point of elephantitis. Her foot is swollen 3 inches deep on the bottom, 4 inches on the top. Only the first two toes are still there, the rest are indistinguishable from the swollen foot. We took her to the hospital and she needs to go to the national hospital in Tanzania. She has no one to take her there – her daughter died from cancer, has no husband, and her 4 grandchildren are in boarding school (secondary school at a government school so it is free for them).

She said to me today, my last visit with her, that sometimes she wants to give up. She thinks maybe it is better to die than to live in pain – she has just now developed a fungus that is eating the skin between her fingers on her right hand. This breaks my heart, not because I haven’t heard people that might feel that way, but it was the first time someone said it to me, and meant it. I told her never give up, and to keep trying. She is a very friendly, jovial woman and she is not HIV positive. I hope to hear her future improves even as I leave Tanzania.

Picture: Mwajuma cooking in front of her porch