Chancing dances

So the blog title becomes relevant once again.

Over the weekend I got my dance on. I wasn't really planning on it. In fact, I really tried to not be in the situation that I found myself in.

Friday night was tame after the pre-wedding party. Rest and recovery. Saturday night was a different story.

I went to our favorite bar with my favorite coworker for some Ballantine's whiskey (error 1). Then to a new Brazilian Churrasco restaurant (I got the veggie discount). Then back to the bar. And then the night got really wild. My lack of Swahili was a bit annoying at the bar (forced to chat with a really "patriotic" Tanzanian), a little frustrating at dinner (3rd wheel!) and ultimately dangerous after that. I reached the max Mzungu on display tolerance level. This party was a rented out venue on the beach with only Tanzanians in attendance, and I had no idea what part of town we were in (error 2). People were pretty aggressive,  and I wasn't having any fun. So I tried to escape (error 3), got a little ambitious in my capacity to get a ride somewhere (error 4) and ultimately was told I needed to wait until a group of my coworker's friends were leaving. So I sat and sulked: Kiki crisis.

But wait, the young Tanzanian ladies that my coworker connected me with flipped my world and completely adjusted my attitude. They were so nice and welcoming; they saved my entire weekend! It helped that we went to a Mzungu club (note that it is now 2 AM) with nostalgic American Top 40 hits and a great view of the ocean... not to mention some good people watching. The girls tried to teach me how to shake it, but I really don't think I'm built the same way that they are built. Like my body does not physically make those movements.

I was dropped off by my five new friends at my doorstep as the sun came up. Granted I flaked on my plans to go to a beach on an island, but I managed to get up to a beach on the mainland and watch a bunch of folks kite surf. My friend let me fly her small kite for a bit, which I managed to plow into the beach a few times. I quit before I did any permanent damage to the kite or the kids playing on the beach. Maybe next time I'll be brave enough to get in the water with it.

No real plans for this upcoming weekend, just getting ready for the next week when I head up to Nairobi on Thursday (enter 13+ hour bus ride)! And then there's a 4th of July reception that the US Embassy is throwing on Wednesday next week (yeah, I know, it's not the 4th of July until the next week, but I guess we're a little eager). And before that I'll attend my 3rd HASH and get my Dar name, although I'm not sure it can beat She Shooters She Scores. I can't even describe how different the routes are here. Last week we went through a seriously low income area with tiny alleyways and kids sandwiched between us, yelling "On On!"

Pre-wedding party

So weddings are a big deal here. They are definitely a display of a family's wealth, but they are also the opportunity to keep up traditional celebrations. I was fortunate enough to be invited to witness the pre-wedding party of a colleague's friend's sister. This took place on a Thursday night. We arrived a bit late, but we were quickly ushered to a banquet table in a large hall with about 300 people. Unlike the mood-setting ambiance of American weddings, the place was brightly lit, so I could really take it all in.

We were served endless bottles of beer (I made the commitment to Serengeti lager and was not disappointed). Family members addressed the bride, wishing her well. One of her sister's served as her sidekick throughout the evening, standing and sitting in front of the crowd in glamorous royal blue gowns with lots of glitz.

The celebrations moved into a buffet dinner (incredible eats) and a chance for different groups of people (work friends, family, former classmates) to go up together (usually dancing in a line), present the bride with gifts and wish her well on her wedding.

One thing I really liked about this event was that people dressed in the same color scheme. I was wondering how everyone knew to wear red and gold (the bride and her sisters were very unique in their blue dresses), but I noticed that the invitation featured a red background with gold printing. Ah ha!

One thing I didn't like so much is that it went until after 12 and we bopped around a bit afterward, which made for a rough day in the office. And I think I'm getting sick.

But, it was a great experience. I was one of two white guests, so I definitely stuck out, but I think I represented the Mzungu population well!

Lights, camera, action

Composed Friday, June 8th

How do I capture this?

A truly transformational experience. One of my favorite Fuqua-inspired topics of conversations is about transactional and transformational experiences. Today has been the most transformational day yet. Piggybacking on the aspects that made it such is the idea of serving others; the goal is to be with rather than work for others. This requires being present physically and being active mentally and emotionally.

I haven't done a good job of either of these elements in the last three weeks. This whole internship is a bit of a selfish endeavor. While it is not financially self-serving (I'm not being paid) it is 100% what I wanted to do this summer and why I ultimately went back to school: to have the opportunity to embark on personal paradigm shifting experiences.

When I showed up at the office on day one, I was a bit surprised as I have been on any first day (Whitman, Sunset, Sun Valley, Nic, Babcock, Fuqua), and here I am, surprised to be surprised. That EGG already has robust models to evaluate opportunities, that they are just now creating a mission and vision, that they are facing challenges with their equipment, their customers, their impact and their staff. The two people that I shared the staff house with initially have returned to their other commitments, and the people that have been here the past week will not be here next week. My eagerness mutated into a bit of confusion, which ultimately became a bad attitude and a feeling of stagnation. That paired with bad dreams from the malaria pills and not having intentional interactions with folks at home (relying on passive information from sources like Facebook, Twitter and email), it's not the recipe for a transformational experience.

But I'm out of the red and back on top after a couple of good days. My colleague, Donatien, has been instrumental in this migration. While I'm complaining about not feeling useful, he's coming up with projects. After making a statement about the distance of our house from the office, he demands that I accompany him and a visitor to the Mbagala station. Also, another coworker has been giving me a good taste of non-Mzungu socializing.

So today required a bajaj (auto rickshaw) to the city center (we passed some fender benders and horrible traffic along the way), tracked down an elusive hotel, found the visitor, took a dala-dala (minibus) to Mbagala. I assumed my role as mysterious observer, only asking questions when I'm really curious about something, not forcing any interactions. Then that passivity is shaken when the visitor wants to see the home of a customer. I object, saying people aren't prepared for that intrusive activity. I get overruled and then eagerly accompany the group by taxi. We see an office with two lights powered by a single battery. The lights work; the customer is happy; we return to the station. Instead of heading back to the office in Dar with Donatien and the visitor, I stick around; I'm on a roll and there's an opportunity to see an installation.

It requires some serious transportation, but I accompany three fundis (technicians, all teens) to a remote village, where a Muslim school ordered the installation of six light bulbs in a dorm for boys. Now there are a lot of wild things about this. I gave up trying to learn Swahili and the fundis know some English, but when I can't pronounce the name of one of them (a common problem I encounter), I accidentally call him husband. Just one example of how entertaining I am to them. Then we pile in a van that will take us to the remote village. I try to not be an imposition, but carrying one bag of our supplies might draw more attention: mzungu lady with 3 guys doing manual labor.

We get to the village without a problem, it's around 2 pm when we arrive. The guys track down our client. Client's piki-piki (motorcycle) carries the equipment off, we walk with boys that I assume are his sons, but are probably students at the school. We walk for about a mile to the site, and when we arrive I see that this is a complicated job with extensive wiring, six switches and two batteries. One fundi climbs up in the tresses immediately; he's the lead, and his helpers are ready to work.

Me? I'm given a chair and instructed to sit, so I watch in awe, wishing that they would give me something to do because the only role I'm currently playing is white girl on display. Definitely a rare species in this environment. I manage to insist on helping, handing them tools and attempting to strip wires, but ultimately I appear bored and tired when in reality I'm incredibly impressed that these youngsters are making this happen. The only problem is that I feel like I'm going to faint. I had a huge breakfast of two (2!) avocados, but no water or snacks since 7 am. Luckily I'm gifted a coconut (laughter erupts among the crowd of kids and teachers when I try to pay for it), which is the most refreshing and delicious thing I've ever experienced.

Boys come in and out of the dorm, changing between their street clothes and their traditional white Muslim thobes. A few women pass by and I wish that I could communicate with them, but all I can manage is to shake hands, smile and say asante (thank you). Dusk arrives and voices rise to sing the daily prayers. "Husband" tells me that I have to go, it's getting late. I wonder what time they will finish the installation because it looks like they still have quite a bit of work to do. I'm escorted to the town center, where we arrived by van. But wait! I'm told that there are no vans at this time. A Muslim teacher/warden/superintendent? negotiates a solution: a motorcycle ride to a street with vans that drive back to the station. Yikes. No helmets, but no choice. I take a big gulp and saddle up.

I haven't mentioned the setting. It's incredibly beautiful. It reminds me a lot of rural Zambia, but with coconut trees and pineapple plants. This seems like paradise. The ride is long on a sandy road through small villages, but it's much smoother and more enjoyable than I anticipated. Then I have to shove myself onto a van, squished between people and sacks of potatoes. When I get to Mbagala, I find a luxurious dala-dala to Mwenge (my neighborhood in Dar), so I'm home free! Except traffic congestion means that I don't get home until 9:30 pm. Regardless, I am content. I look at the asphalt that has been squished by the combination of heat and heavy trucks, grateful for the mild weather and feeling like this day has had a similar and lasting impression on me.

Lights, camera, action? Today we installed lights. I did not have a camera. But I am on my way to having more action in my Tanzania life. I chug water and inhale dinner and manage to have a nightmare-free sleep. Undeniably transformational.

Kirforce does Tanzania

I'm in Tanzania for the summer. This is truly my last chance ski bum dance before I head back to Durham for my last year of grad school and then potentially start my life as a "professional." I'll just use this existing site to record some of my happenings.

I arrived in the EGG-Energy office on May 16th after a two night layover in Dubai. In four weeks, I've been to the rainforest (when it was raining!), an island, the beach, downtown Dar's botanical garden, cathedral, fish market and absurd brunch buffet. I've run through the University of Dar campus. I went on a hash run. I've been swimming in the Indian Ocean. I've visited two of our stations and observed an installation at a Muslim school. I've created a number of Excel models. I've been doing a lot of journaling, but I'll spare you the details of my Lariam-distorted nightmares. I did want to share an entry that I wrote on Friday after my trip to rural Tanzania, so that will be the next post. You can also check out my post for the EGG blog... gives you a sense of what we are doing here!