Mzungu: White people

Here is the bulk of an email to my mother that sort of morphed into a blog post halfway through. Enjoy! (and please feel free to ask questions to clarify, since I haven't set the scene very well).

We just got back from a long day in Arusha, the main city nearby. I'm covered in dust, dirt, sunscreen, sweat, and probably a good deal of sun judging by the pink tinge I see on some of the other girls' faces across from me.

Friday classes were wonderful and full of lots of learning. So far we know the litany of greetings that are customary and polite to start with before beginning a conversation with anyone. Since we live in the compound (fondly known as 'Danish' by the locals b/c of its start as a Danish missionary training center), Katie and I got to go home for hot lunch and good conversations with the people who are really becoming family in such a short time.

The afternoon was orientation to lab, unpacking the equipment we'd brought, and labeling tools in English and Swahili. I feel like I'm at least competent to be fine with the lab content... hopefully this will translate into feeling comfortable in the hospitals next month. The whole group is fun, though there are obviously a few good chances for us to compare our respective educations and experiences in rather competitive ways. Mostly this is good for me since it keeps me wanted to work hard (but maybe not the best motivation?) ;)

That night a few of the other students who live on the compound invited us to watch a movie - once the very American, rather inane comedy was over, I had the same thought that another one vocalized: "I'm in Africa..." Part of the strangeness of it was that the compound is very protected, and though there are plenty of locals living here, it is very well off. We are among some of the groups that have warm showers and flush toilets (as opposed to glorified holes in the floor). Personally, I'm not complaining.

Today (Saturday) was a day full of exciting explorations and adventures... and I definitely feel like I'm in a very different place now.
At breakfast, I made a new friend. Freedom, age 7, was staying over for the night because his parents are traveling and his sister had locked him out. Though he was too shy to talk to me last night, the worldwide language of hot chocolate and breakfast opened him up. Inspired by Katie's desire to go for a run, I did some pajamas yoga in the bedroom, then took advantage of the stationary bike and my iPod in the reasonably furnished workout room on the compound. Toward the end, I found myself singing along to one of the Redeemer worship songs, only to discover that there had been a woman working in the next room... she didn't seem to mind. :)
After showers, we met Alex (also a cyclist and a Georgia girl) and Merete (my partner for next month) to go into town. We ventured outside the compound and hopped on the dala dala -- a glorified multipassenger van, filled to the hilt, and what I would call pretty unsafe (but incredibly fun). To Alex's chagrin, I think, I met a young man in dress shirt and slacks who said he was a tour guide and showed us where to get off to begin our tour of the city. Eventually, we did get him to leave us be, though I'm learning to not pick up those who profess to be guides unless I really need it. We wandered around a lot, getting a feel for the city, traffic and pedestrian patterns, and general layout. The cool morning turned into a rather hot midday, and we stopped for bottled water and samosas. The inital smell of the slowly rotting food market and semi-open sewage in the streets were perhaps some of the more difficult sensory experiences of the day. The Masai market, full of the touristy things you'd expect to see from Africa was pretty incredible, though I learned how to say "just looking" and "not buying anything today" lots and lots. I'll probably head back there when I'm on my way out of the country and load up on pretty paintings, scarves, cloth, jewelry, and knick knacks for gifts at home.
The remainder of our group arrived in town mid-afternoon, and we proceeded to be the big group of white people "Mzungu" walking down the street with at least one local per every two of us, trying to sell us something or be our tour guide. I met a very nice young guy named Max, who ended up hanging around for most of the rest of the day and teaching me lots of useful phrases in Swahili, like sorry, not today (hakuna leo), and how to count to 10, among other things. We found more intricacies of the real central market (the not touristy one), and a very nice bar/restaurant called Barcelona Gardens. The restuarant was set backa way from the street in a beautiful little gulley with outside tables staggered down the hill under the tall, shady trees. Dinner at a local place followed -- rice, ugali, beef, chicken, and goat were all eaten with our hands and enjoyed tremendously. I even got to speak french with one of the locals we had picked up -- Simba.
Finally, our adventurous group member, Chris, had arranged a van to drop us all off at home. Despite them getting lost, Katie and I were safely deposited back here at the compound. I'm curious to find out what happened after we left, since at that point there was some arguing going on about increasing price of the ride due to our brief period of being lost.

And that brings us back to tonight... That's all for now, and hopefully I'll be able to pick and choose what to share in a way that doesn't require quite so much typing. ;)