Goat Cake

Hi friends! I don't have a ton of time right now, so this will be a pretty short update. Right now, we're in town for the day to practice our Swahili. In the morning we went to the central market to buy fruits and vegetables, and stopped in a cafe for a snack! The market really reminded me of the Arab Market in Jerusalem - the smells, the crowded booths, the shopkeepers trying to get you into their shop. A favourite phrase here is "To look is free." It was overwhleming but also nostalgic :).

For the past week I have been up in Bangata with my wonderful homestay family. I feel like I should explain more about them. Mama and Baba Dori have three kids all of whom live in Arusha to go to private schools. The oldest, Dori, is 10, and the youngest, Deonis, is 4. REALLY young to be sent off to school. But, Mama Dori is adamant that they receive the best education they can afford. I feel really torn about this because I'm not a more standardized education is worth splitting apart families. Deonis (we call him Deo) cam home last weekend because there was a big party for Baba Dori's sister, and when I asked on Monday if Mama Dori was sad he was gone, she started crying :(. I felt like crying too. Deo is the coolest little man on the planet. He is hyper and playful and adventurous and says my name every few minutes. It must be so hard to let him go and grow up away from home. Anyway, two sons of Mama Dori's sister live with us - Danieli, who is 14, and Stephano, who I think is in his late teens but I'm not sure. Danieli also goes to school in Arusha but comes home every weekend. At first I was upset there were not kids to play with around the house, but now I am really happy about it because I have bonded with my Mama. I always sit with her and help cut vegetables for dinner. I speak broken Swahili to her and she responds in broken English. She is always smiling and laughing and is just nice to be around :). Baba Dori works during the day as a veterinarian and comes home around dinner time, which is pretty late (around 9:30 - I always pass out right after dinner). He is really laidback and unlike some families where the Mama eats alone is the kitchen, he always eats out of the same bowl as my Mama.

Speaking of food, it's surprisingly great here. Basically every meal comes with a starch, a meat dish, and a vegetable dish. Since I told my family I don't eat meat, there are sometimes two vegetable options. The starch is always either rice, pilau (spiced rice with vegetables), ugali (this translates as strong porridge, it's a mix of cornmeal and water), spaghetti noodles, or mashed potatoes. At every meal we eat a leafy green called chinchi that I just learned is a type of wild spinach. Sometimes we have beans or a potato stew. Everything is cooked in a healthy serving of oil called Fresh Fry which is solid until heated mmm - probably the reason some people haven't been feeling well. While there isn't a ton of variety everything is flavourful and fresh. And we always have mango, pineapples, and bananas as desert. Yum.

The biggest source of excitement this past week was definitely the party at my house. It was a send-off party for my Aunt Glady who is moving to the Babati region to get married. The whole week prior to the party guests and family members were arriving from all over Tanzania, and Mama and Baba Dori were busy planning the budget and menu. The day off, our house was crazy busy. Tons of neighbours came over to help cook - there were at least five three stone fires going at once. I tried to help cook but they only let me break up the spaghetti noodles after I apparently cut too much skin off a cucumber. I wished they had taught me the right way, but I guess they wanted to get it done fast. It was kind of frustrating though when I heard the Mama next to me say "machini" - people here think Americans have a machine to do everything for them and therefore can't do anything themselves. A moment of otherness on an otherwise great day.

The ceremony began around 3pm and began with a sermon from the local priest. Then there was a gift giving parade. Everyone who came walked down the aisle with gifts - money, kangas ( a piece of material that is used for everything here! I wear one over my shorts to walk to school every day), plates, cups, cooking pots, and other husehold items. My family brought our goat down the aisle! I was very relieved to see this because when I had walked out of the house before the ceremony I came face to face with a whole cooked goat. It looked like a whole goat had been put in the fire - hair and all - and it was standing up on a wooden plank. And I thought it was the cute goat that I'd been hanging out with for the past week! Luckily, it wasn't. My goat friend was just moving to Babati. The cooked goat came out at the end of the ceremony. It was really interesting to watch - basically the bride-to-be was presented with a knife and cut the first piece like a birthday cake! She was fed the first piece by her bridal assisant. (By the way, both of them were wearing gold shiny gowns, and gems and sparkles all over their hair). Then, she cut pieces of goat, put them on toothpicks and hand fed them to all the elders in her family. Mama and Baba Dori each got a piece, and I was very happy they did not bring me up with them. I am really lucky I got to experience such an exciting cultural event.

Anyway, I have a lot more I want to share, but no time. I just finished reading The Doors of Perception, and have a lot of thoughts about it and how it relates to my experience here. Next time, I guess. Lots of love.