Wedding in Meru

Last weekend, John (Director of White Orange Youth) invited me to go with him to an uncle's wedding, just outside Arusha. Despite the fact that I had just recently recovered from a minor bout with malaria, I couldn't refuse such an invitation. It is a good thing that my energy was back, though, because the entire experience turned out to be much different than I was expecting and involved almost an hour's hike into the hills around Mt. Meru. It was absolutely gorgeous up there -- corn, bananas, and coffee growing all around, green palm trees, hidden houses at the end of winding dirt paths.

The wedding itself was held at a small church even further into the hills. It was about the longest ceremony I've ever sat through, with 3 or 4 different people seemingly presiding over it, and of course I hardly understood any of it. At some points, even the bride and groom looked like they were dozing off, but then every so often some of the women (the mothers, aunts, and sisters of the couple) would jump up, trilling their tongues, and dance around the bride and groom, throwing confetti everywhere. I have to say, the mothers looked happier than even their children about the marriage -- they just danced and danced and ran around hugging everyone in sight, even the strange mzungu girl that showed up with their nephew.

I did feel a bit awkward, being an obvious stranger amongst hundreds of family members. There was a lot of whispering, pointing, and questioning glances in my direction. And there were a lot of questions containing the word "mchumba" (girlfriend/fiancee), which John and I quickly corrected. I received several standing invitations to people's homes in various corners of the country, which is something I'm still not quite sure how to respond to. You're invited to everyone's home, even total strangers that you just met on the street. The thing is, they do mean it; it's not just a formality. And if you agree, they expect you to come. I was recently told that in Africa, it is believed that visitors bring blessings upon your home and family, so that explains the persistent hospitality.

After the ceremony, we all proceeded back to the home of the newlyweds for the reception. This began with the procession of the gifts, which was by far the most entertaining part of the ceremony. The bride and groom stand up front, the music and singing starts, their guests form a conga line and the gifts are danced up to the newlyweds. And here they don't just receive the ordinary cookware and bedding -- they effectively get their home furnished. It was quite a sight to see a four-post bed and dresser set danced up the line and into the house. They also received a cow and several goats, but much to my disappointment, I didn't get to stay long enough to see that procession. With hundreds of family members, you can imagine such a process would take quite a long time, and we were getting hungry.

John, his younger brother, and I snuck off to the side of the house where we ate clandestinely while the procession was still in full swing. It was typical Tanzanian fare: rice, pilau, cooked bananas, cabbage, and tough, chewy meat. Then, it was time to congratulate the bride and groom and head back to Moshi.

The means of transportation in the hills are rather limited, so we piled into a crowded station wagon-turned-taxi for a ride back to the main highway. From there, we hailed a bus heading back to Moshi and, along with a dozen others, climbed on only to discover that there were no seats for us. This is a common problem in Tanzania: they overcrowd buses beyond their capacity, beyond what is safe and by any means comfortable. And then, when they are stopped along the way by the authorities -- the very ones that are supposed to monitor the situation and make sure this is not happening -- they simply slip the officer 5,000 shillings (about $5), sometimes less, and they're on their way again. It's very dangerous, and there are a lot of fatalities from bus accidents. Eventually, enough people got off so we could sit down, and we made it back to Moshi safe and sound, just after dark.

It was a great day, though much different from what I had envisioned. I only hope that at some point I get to see the procession of the cow...

more pictures

Mt. Kili is coming out more often now, and she's gorgeous! This was taken from our front yard.

This is Pasua, where Tanzania Children Concern is located. It takes an hour to walk there from my house. If I'm running late or tired, I sometimes take the daladala (public transport), but most of the time I try to walk.

This is a corn field near our house. It's beautiful, isn't it?

Today, a child saw me and ran away, screaming in terror. I was in a good mood, so I thought it was pretty funny. Haven't had that reaction before...usually it's just pointing, staring, laughing, and "hey, Mzungu! Give me money."

I have been pretty busy the past couple weeks since I started working. A lot of volunteers find they have a lot of down time, since things tend to move slowly around here and it takes a while to figure out what you should be doing. I, on the other hand, think I'm going to be fairly busy, just trying to balance my time and energy between two placements. That's not so bad -- I did, afterall, come here to work. And I'm really enjoying the work that both NGOs do, I don't think I could choose one over the other. So, even if it means being constantly on the go, I'm hoping to make it work.

I'm excited to be involved in both programs because they both approach the HIV/AIDS problem from a different angle. White Orange Youth (WOY) focuses on educating youth, both in schools and on the street, about HIV/AIDS and how to protect themselves -- and to empower them to be good role models and work to stop the disease. Tanzania Children Concern (TCC) is working on a door-to-door campaign to encourage testing, educating families about the disease and the importance of knowing your status and changing your behavior accordingly.

With WOY, so far I have spent most of my time at the internet cafe (quickly becoming my second home) typing up various reports, printing, and doing some research to find potential funding sources. I have gone twice now with the peer educators to see what they do in the schools, and even though my only contribution there was a HUGE distraction, it was interesting to see how they go about it. They visit 8 schools each week and teach a different topic each time. I, without realizing it until it was too late, snuck to the back of an all-boys class on the day they were teaching sexual reproductive health. Let's just say my presence wasn't exactly conducive to the learning process. I also attended a parent meeting this week at one of the schools. They hold parent meetings at each of the schools to teach the parents about HIV/AIDS and STDs, as well as how to talk to their own kids about sex and the risks it carries. It was very interesting -- I only wish I could have understood more of what they were saying. There was a lot of discussion and questions, especially when we came to talking about condoms. Condoms hold a huge stigma here, so much so that they have come up with alternative terms just so that young people won't feel embarrassed asking for them at the stores. The parents don't want to accept the fact that their children may be sexually active, even as young as 12, and don't think the kids should be told about condoms. WOY is not really allowed to promote condoms in the schools, so they try to encourage the parents to talk to their kids about it. It's a significant problem here.

With TCC, I go with them 3 days a week on their house-to-house campaign. There are several areas around Moshi that they focus on because they are the poorest areas, or where people seem to be more affected. For instance, one area we visit frequently is just outside of town near a huge sugar plantation. People come from all over Tanzania to work there, but often have their families elsewhere and stay away for a long time, so there is a lot of drinking and prostitution and drug use there. People are very poor and there are many orphaned children there, being improperly cared for, many of them losing their parents to AIDS. So, we go from house to house talking with people. (Well, I just sit there right now, but hopefully that will change once my Kiswahili improves.) Most people have been fairly receptive to us and are willing to talk. Most agree with the importance of what we are trying to do, and we find a lot of people who are willing to get tested, once we ask them. Others will refuse to talk to us, quite possibly because for whatever reason they have something to fear and would rather not know. Fear is a big barrier to getting tested -- people are not only afraid of what their status might be, but they are also afraid of being ostracized by their friends and family (a very real concern, it happens often). We visited one woman that is public about being HIV positive, and as a result her family has rejected her and her children are picked on, beat up, and called names. She broke down crying just telling us about how hard it has been. There is such a huge stigma toward HIV/AIDS, that people would rather not know and put their health in jeopardy just to avoid being treated like that.

It is hard, but hopefully we can at least change the way people think about HIV and testing and empower them to change their own behavior. I'm excited to see how it all progresses.