Mzungu!!
Remember how, way back when, I told everyone that I wanted to become Prime Minister? That idea's been losing its appeal to me for a long time now, but this trip has completely cured me of ever wanting to be famous. Being a white North American, I knew that in coming to Africa, I'd definitely stand out in a crowd. What I didn't realize is the semi-obsession that Tanzanians have with foreigners, or the fact that I wouldn't be able to wak down a street here without drawing massive amounts of attention.
"Mzungu" is the Swahili word for European, but it is a word that is applied loosely to anyone who is white, Asian, or in general, not African-looking. Walking down the street in Tengaru on any given day, I am often followed by hoardes of children yelling "Mzungu, Mzungu!" who will give chase to any white person within fifty feet. That I don't mind so much... although anyone who knows me knows that I'm not a fan of screamng children, I can accept that I am an anomoly that is of interest to them. After all, CCS volunteers aside, there's not a lot of foreigners in the villages here. What really gets on my nerves is when I go into Arusha. The streets of Arusha are packed with street vendors who will try to sell you anything from shoes to artwork, and who seem to have a sort of radar to help direct themselves in the paths of unwitting tourists. Their approach is quite simple - they come up to anybody who looks foreign (and as a pale brunette, I definitely qualify as such), say hello, engage you in conversation, then proceed to stick by your side like a leech until you either buy something or become downright rude with them. These vendors also seem to travel in packs - on my first day in Arusha, myself and four other volunteers were followed for about half an hour by at least eight vendors. It's impossible to avoid them... if I was staying here longer, I think I would invest in a burkha (burqua? I can't spell it - but one of those head-to-toe coverings that the Taliban made the women in Afghanistan wear) just so that I could have some peace.
I think a lot of the attention that foreigners (especially white foreigners) here receive stems from the colonial mentality that is still prevalent. For so long, Africans were used to taking orders from Europeans, and depending on them, that they assume that all white people are wealthy and can provide assistance. I don't mean to generalize here - after all, there are many Africans and African organizations that are focused on ensuring their independent sustainability; but on the whole, it's very obvious that Tanzania is not accustomed to independence from European dependency. I was talking to Mama Simba (the CCS Country Director) about this, and she said that Tanzania's main problem is that most of its initiatives are funded by foriegn aid groups and other governments. I've noticed that a lot in the short time I've been here -WAMATA is funded by the Dutch government, the road to Ngorongoro was funded by Japan... Alright, I'm definitely getting too political here, eh? Trust me to turn a simple observation into a political rant.
I've only got one more day working at WAMATA, which I have mixed feelings over. The English lessons that I'm teaching are very frustrating; I really don't think that the girls care to learn English, and they don't try at all. Also, my lack of basic Swahili makes things more complicated than they should be. I've been doing a lot of data entry this past week, entering profiles of orphans needing sponsorship into the computer (figures, I'd come all the way to Africa to do what I get paid to do back home!). That's dull, but necessary. Anyone want to sponsor an orphan? They've got hundreds... The people at WAMATA are amazing, though - I'm definitely going to miss them. It's incredible to see the positive difference that they can make, despite an overwhelming lack of resources.
Yesterday, I achieved my last goal for this trip - I went to the UN Tribunal for Rwanda. Unfortunately, the people I went with didn't share my somewhat nerdy love of international law and human rights issues, so we didn't stay for too long. To be honest, I wasn't 100% sure what was going on most the time - there were translators for the witness testimony (which was given in French), but we came in half way through a sesson, so I don't know who the witness was, or who they were prosecuting. Nonetheless, I just thought it was an amazing experience to actually be in the UN and watch history being made. Afterwards, we went shopping and true to form, I bought a very cute pair of shoes...
Gotta go, 'net time's about to run out... I can't wait to get home and use a computer that doesn't have a timer on it!!
"Mzungu" is the Swahili word for European, but it is a word that is applied loosely to anyone who is white, Asian, or in general, not African-looking. Walking down the street in Tengaru on any given day, I am often followed by hoardes of children yelling "Mzungu, Mzungu!" who will give chase to any white person within fifty feet. That I don't mind so much... although anyone who knows me knows that I'm not a fan of screamng children, I can accept that I am an anomoly that is of interest to them. After all, CCS volunteers aside, there's not a lot of foreigners in the villages here. What really gets on my nerves is when I go into Arusha. The streets of Arusha are packed with street vendors who will try to sell you anything from shoes to artwork, and who seem to have a sort of radar to help direct themselves in the paths of unwitting tourists. Their approach is quite simple - they come up to anybody who looks foreign (and as a pale brunette, I definitely qualify as such), say hello, engage you in conversation, then proceed to stick by your side like a leech until you either buy something or become downright rude with them. These vendors also seem to travel in packs - on my first day in Arusha, myself and four other volunteers were followed for about half an hour by at least eight vendors. It's impossible to avoid them... if I was staying here longer, I think I would invest in a burkha (burqua? I can't spell it - but one of those head-to-toe coverings that the Taliban made the women in Afghanistan wear) just so that I could have some peace.
I think a lot of the attention that foreigners (especially white foreigners) here receive stems from the colonial mentality that is still prevalent. For so long, Africans were used to taking orders from Europeans, and depending on them, that they assume that all white people are wealthy and can provide assistance. I don't mean to generalize here - after all, there are many Africans and African organizations that are focused on ensuring their independent sustainability; but on the whole, it's very obvious that Tanzania is not accustomed to independence from European dependency. I was talking to Mama Simba (the CCS Country Director) about this, and she said that Tanzania's main problem is that most of its initiatives are funded by foriegn aid groups and other governments. I've noticed that a lot in the short time I've been here -WAMATA is funded by the Dutch government, the road to Ngorongoro was funded by Japan... Alright, I'm definitely getting too political here, eh? Trust me to turn a simple observation into a political rant.
I've only got one more day working at WAMATA, which I have mixed feelings over. The English lessons that I'm teaching are very frustrating; I really don't think that the girls care to learn English, and they don't try at all. Also, my lack of basic Swahili makes things more complicated than they should be. I've been doing a lot of data entry this past week, entering profiles of orphans needing sponsorship into the computer (figures, I'd come all the way to Africa to do what I get paid to do back home!). That's dull, but necessary. Anyone want to sponsor an orphan? They've got hundreds... The people at WAMATA are amazing, though - I'm definitely going to miss them. It's incredible to see the positive difference that they can make, despite an overwhelming lack of resources.
Yesterday, I achieved my last goal for this trip - I went to the UN Tribunal for Rwanda. Unfortunately, the people I went with didn't share my somewhat nerdy love of international law and human rights issues, so we didn't stay for too long. To be honest, I wasn't 100% sure what was going on most the time - there were translators for the witness testimony (which was given in French), but we came in half way through a sesson, so I don't know who the witness was, or who they were prosecuting. Nonetheless, I just thought it was an amazing experience to actually be in the UN and watch history being made. Afterwards, we went shopping and true to form, I bought a very cute pair of shoes...
Gotta go, 'net time's about to run out... I can't wait to get home and use a computer that doesn't have a timer on it!!
posted by jenni | 1:39 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home