Big Time Theft

Tuesday our school hosted an interschool Tanzanian soccer tournament. During the long afternoon of games a theft took place. Luckily, the dangerous thief was apprehended.

The theft? A Grade 11's backpack filled with items stolen from the boys' bathroom and a classroom. The comprehensive list includes a calculator, toilet paper, toilet cleaner, and-you guessed it-a condom. While this list may seem absurd considering the many valuable computers and electronics our school holds, it is correct.

The thief? A no-good-dirty-rotton-toilet-paper-stealing-soccer-player-from-another-school.

The Haven of Peace Academy took a collective sigh when she was successfully kicked out of the tournament.

Good Omens

This is a good start to Monday morning. So far the mangy dogs that normally jump all over me on my run around the German Boarding home hills were called off by their Massai owner. Next I actually had water in the locker room to shower after my morning workout-the gardener rembered to turn on the water, as he rarely does. When I went into the staffroom for my morning coffee my favorite large sized mug was sitting, ready and waiting for MOI. Worship at assembly was amazing, thanks to the vocals of a sweet Grade 12 girl. I hope this great Monday continues... This bodes well for the rest of the week.

Ethnic Stereotypes

In my Grade 12 class we were talking about ethnic stereotypes. I know they are technically wrong to perpetuate as they aren't politely correct-but so darn often they are true that it’s hard to get away from them! I mean, my Korean students generally are amazing at drawing and sketching and gifted in Maths. My British students generally have a dry, formal way of speaking. And my Aussie students, well, they are so Australian in their hearty and energetic personalities. Actually, I teach many Australian students this year and they are such bright teenagers! They stand out as some of the brightest in my English classes. My students this year are a good mix as I also have students from Tanzania, Rwanda, Germany, Holland, Guatemala, Ireland, America, Greece, and more! It is a highly international school flair each ethnic group brings to the mix.

To Buy...in Dubai

So this last weekend I was in the Middle East-Dubai to be exact-for a teacher training course for the British exam board I teach (Cambridge International Examinations). The course was useful. The time in Dubai was excellent; that was surprising because previously I was skeptical about the idea of building a megatourist destination in the middle of a desert. Absolute arrogance, I thought, mentally comparing it to the notorious Biblical Tower of Babel.

Instead I was impressed with the absolute ease of the city. The people were mainly not Arabs. Instead they were a mishmash of Indians, Pakistanis, Bangalis, Asians, all laboring together in various blue collar jobs. Hopping into taxis and conversing with the chatty Asian drivers was simple. Shopping at their megamalls with every type of designer store you can dream of was equally simple.

Even better were the souks. Visiting an old covered soul near the "Creek" (the Dubai name for their huge river) brought me back a taste of Bangladesh and I felt like Princess Jasmine stepping into an Arabian Nights tale. Men in punjabis held up beaded skirts and pashminas against me, telling my how lovely I looked. One Indian succeeded in selling me a chiffon belly dancing belt covered in jangling coins. Since coming back to Tanzania I've put it to good use with my "Learn to Belly Dance" dvd.

Another souk shop owner from Kerala, South India, befriended me and presented me with a designer Fendi wallet because he wanted "a friend in the United States." Afterwards he tried to kiss me, so I suspect he wanted more than friendship.

Overall, Dubai impressed me as the best planned and maintained city not in the West that I've ever visited. Would I go back to that Arabian fairy tale of a city? In a heartbeat!

Chronicles of a Cycler Part III

Knackered. After a day spent cycling at least 25 kilometers around the city of Dar es Salaam knackered is the only word for me. Hmm…or perhaps sunburned, sandy, or dirt-streaked? All of the above apply.

But what word can I use to describe the Dar experience? The experience of seeing all different aspects of the city-include the huge variety of housing types, ranging from ultra poor stone huts to huge stone mansions? Or the variety of people, ranging from well-dressed women to scraggly kids playing with tires?

It was a long, hot, and hugely informative day. One that culminated in my squished into the back of a tuk-tuk with our two mountain bikes while another guy I biked with sat up front with the driver.

DO HARD THINGS

My school's theme for this year is “Do Hard Things” and us teachers are alternatively cajoling and encouraging our students during assemblies and homeroom to choose a goal, a hard thing to do for the glory of God. This theme is based on the book by the teenage twins Bret and Alex Harris encouraging teens to start a “rebelution” against the low expectations placed on them.

My students are rising to meet our challenge. One student has decided to build a Tanzanian orphanage for his senior service learning project. Another to mentor children out in a village. Some are choosing to heal broken friendships, learn to play the guitar, or earn an “A” in a challenging class.

In my 8th grade homeroom I’ve been inspiring my students by researching together Biblical heroes who did hard things for the glory of God. Sometimes I share stories of kids who have surpassed expectations, like a 17 year old who sailed around the world. Or a five year old who raised 30 thousand dollars for orphans. Then sometimes I have my students encourage each other through writing notes or prayer.

Pushing my students to persevere, to press on to achieve their hard things is exhilarating. This school year promises to see great things accomplished by the kids at HOPAC.

Chronicle One of a Cycler

...Fingers crossed I’ll live to write many more

Now I can meet Dar es Salaam on its own terms. Now I have a bike. Last weekend I bought a UK mountain bike off young Mcfarlane, a Northern Irish student of mine. After taking it out on a main road this afternoon I am so thankful it’s a mountain bike and built for rough riding. The streets are deeply rutted and covered in sandy dirt and frequently I had to veer off the cement to avoid being hit by a rogue dalla dalla [local bus] or construction truck.

This danger added to the charm of my quest to find a Luku station [prepaid electricity for my house]. Like in all cities, I only feel engaged and truly a part of my surroundings if I’m out there on my bike, vulnerable, sweating, but very much in the city. My city experiences are typically rougher than the average American’s as they are mainly in packed third world countries.

Riding through Dar I battled a terrific sea breeze, school children loitering in my path and calling out at me, and the quick stream of traffic zipping past. With the dust blowing in my face and the uncertainty of knowing where I’m headed, I enjoyed my adventure.

I can see why some people are driven to bike across countries or even continents. Usually I have the desire to swim around places, but the lure of cycling is growing on me. My housemates were overjoyed when I acquired my bike, and now they send me off on expeditions to buy electricity or pick up bread at a duku [market stall]. However, they’ve informed me that they’ll be kind when it comes to needing juice, only asking for one or two gallons (ha ha ha).

The pictures here are sites I encountered on my foray into the city. The picture at the top is me with my new housemates.

A note on theft

Theft is more common in Dar and even East Africa as a whole than in Bangladesh. Petty theft, muggings, car jacking, smash and grabs-everyone I meet has a story about it. Tonight my next neighbor, Lydia, can over with her two of her teenagers for a game of Bananagrams (our compound addiction). While were playing she informed me they had been robbed Monday night and our guard was consequently dismissed.

Was he associated with the robbery? Don’t know. We do know he’s the only guard our compound head has a bad feeling about. We also know his buddies tend to hang out with him while he’s on duty-did one of them steal? But no matter who is the thief our guard is responsible since he’s employed to be sure no one on the compound is robbed. Tough for the guard.

This makes me wonder several things. Firstly, Bengalis as a whole are poorer than Tanzanians, so why more theft in Tanzania? Secondly, how safe am I anywhere in Dar, including in my own home with a gated compound?