It’s hard to imagine that we’ve been at our site for a month now, and we’re beginning to settle into a routine. Michelle hangs out at the health clinic three or four days a week, weighing babies, talking with the patients, and teaching the nurses some basic English. In return, the nurses are trying to teach her Kinyekusa, the main local language, and a bit of Kisafwa, yet another one (there are actually five local languages spoken here, but almost everyone under of the age of 50 or so speaks good Swahili). The health clinic here is pretty functional compared to others we’ve seen in Tanzania (i.e., people actually work there, there’s medication available, etc.), but there’s a lot lacking in the way of basic preventative care and education that Michelle hopes to help improve once we’re a little more established.


Without a captive audience like the health clinic, I’ve been a little slower at carving out my role here. We’ll spend much of October conducting interviews and holding community meetings for the Village Situation Analysis, a process which will help us better identify the needs of the village and hopefully give us both more direction on potential projects. In the meantime, I’m keeping busy by learning about the local environment, talking with farmers, and collecting seeds to start a tree seedling nursery. I’ve planted a couple papaya and avocado trees around the house, and the tomatoes, green peppers, and herbs are going in next week.

A couple days ago, we went across the river to see some of the farms in the outlying subvillages. We saw a big chunk of the village that we haven’t seen yet – including great views of the mountains and some impressively lush fields of spinach, cucumbers, and other vegetables. Along the way, we ran into the Chief’s brother, a witch doctor, who as a blessing gave us eight pounds of carrots and a chicken. Yep, we now own a chicken, tethered in the courtyard. Michelle was excited about the prospect of fresh eggs and a pet until our neighbor told us that it was a young rooster, after which Michelle lost all desire to keep it. Our neighbor agreed to help us butcher it next week, and I might break from vegetarianism for a day and eat that poor sucker before it can completely destroy the garden.

In other news, our furniture has arrived, so our house is no longer an empty concrete box. The only thing is that since Tanzanian home fashion is unavoidably on the tacky side, our living room is adorned with a leopard print couch, green ruffled curtains, and a bookshelf plastered with purple flowered contact paper. It’s certainly a bit clashy and offensive, but we’ve come to embrace it. Seriously, what other time in our lives can we get away with buying a leopard print couch?

We’re in Mbeya for the weekend, stocking up on food we can’t get at home (peanut butter, pasta, cheese), and catching up with other PCVs in the area. Tomorrow the plan is to head to a nearby western-run resort that has pizza, real (not instant) coffee, a pool, and allegedly a ping pong table. Every once in awhile, you just need a break from village life.

Hope everyone’s doing well back home.  We'll leave you with a couple quick pictures:

Our back porch, taken from the courtyard.

 

The kitchen.






Michelle peeling an egg on the leopard print couch.



The view from the hill behind our house.