Week 9: Vomit or vumbi?

👷🛠Eine deutsche Übersetzung ist in Arbeit...💪

Week 9 23.10.-29.10.
Vomit or Vumbi?

After an exhausting dancing lesson we walk back to our rooms. I am super sweaty, my grey shirt is no longer light grey but dark grey and sticky. I am in a desperate need of a shower. When I turn the faucet I hear a gargling noise and nothing comes out. I swear loudly. I can't believe that we don't have water now. When I sit down, I also realize that there is also no electricity. My phone got luckily charged before the power went off. I listen to an Harry Potter audiobook, text with my friends and write answers to those WhatsApp messages I got during the last few days where I didn't check my phone. I complain to my mother that there is no water but I need to take a shower and I also wanted to wash my clothes. Four hours later we finally have water. I take a shower and wash a few of my clothes before J knocks at my door and we go for dinner. On our way we smell eight different smells. When I complain to J he answers with a chuckle: “Typical Sunday.” We wait for a DalaDala when one stops in front of us J says it's too full. “You're complaining about a luxury need. But we don't need luxury. Two more people will fit in so let's go.” When we are standing inside he looks at me and says: “You really are the local one.” I'm proud of myself!
In the restaurant J complains about being the only black guy except for the staff members. I laugh and answer: “The funny thing is: I am the local one.” Over the last week I started to correct him not only in English but also in Swahili.
Before we enter the bus, which will bring us back, the conductors fight and for the first time I'm in the middle. I say “Shut up”, “Stop this” and “Don’t touch me” (in Swahili) as they touch me. The guys inside the bus are surprised and start talking about me and calling me Mzungu. I say I'm not Mzungu in Swahili and they are totally confused. J talks to them and tries to teach them not to call me Mzungu and one guy says: “Sorry, Mzungu”. OMG how often do I have to say this: I'm not Mzungu. Mzungu is a name for a white person from a western country. But I always have the feeling it separates me from everyone here. I don't want to be called Mzungu. I am just like you and nothing really separates us. Not even the language since I'm studying Swahili.

When I'm on my way to school a car comes in my direction and stops. I think the driver wants to ask for direction but instead he says: “What is your name?” I'm rolling my eyes and tell him he doesn't need to know.
G asks me about an Internet bundle. I answer that I don't have one and ask why he keeps asking me that (this is the third time). He says because he doesn't have one. I respond that he should get one then. He says that I'm selfish for not sharing mine. I answer: “I'm not selfish! First I don't have one right now and second you should pay for your own bundle.”
I check where I have to be tomorrow when the monthly examination starts and take a look at the official timetable for supervision. My jaw drops. Are they kidding me? My name is spelled: Lorne. What the hell?! I've been here for two months and all they now is to call me Lorne?! I go to the office and ask politely who typed that and then ask them to save the correct spelling for the next time.
When I go to the office to get my books and my ball for my next class I realize that someone scribbled KD on my ball. During the next lesson one girl asks me wether I already saw that and then I ask wether they know who did that. As one the whole class screams the name of one P6 student.

The monthly exam starts and I don't have a first exam to supervise. I take out my iPad and start to write new blog entries. JM starts to talk to me. I don't know why he can't ask for interrupting me but he doesn't. He shows me pictures of the last night. He and the other teachers (only male) went to a party of his family member. He tells me about the others being drunk at that time. I think he was too, because not a single picture is sharp. Later BM tells me he is tired and he falls asleep while supervising. He complains about being tired and I say it was his own fault when he gets drunk during the week. He says he wasn't drunk. (Says the guy with the blood shot eyes.) And when we enter the staff room JM sleeps on my desk! Why there? He lifts his head and complains about being tired. With blood shot eyes. Either they were all pretty drunk or they took a drug.

When I'm supervising and the students are finished I show them finger tricks. They are surprised and they keep silent to get everything. Also during the next day I do that and our headmaster comes in and smiles a smile saying: She really knows how to make everyone feel happy.
One guy in P3 has to burp a lot and the other students start laughing. I continue examining the exam to know what the students have in front of them. One task is to write the past tense of "do" and "walk".  One student is super smart and turns to the wall on which a poster is attached which says the past tense of different verbs.
In the staff room BM asks me about the finger tricks I have been doing. I show him at two of them he starts laughing hard and says: “Don't do that.” I ask why and he tells me that those are sex signs. That is new to me and I don't get why but ok I'll be careful not to do this anymore.
Now that I'm back from school and I've prepared every lesson and we have water. I wash all my clothes and the new blanket I bought. As I'm putting them on the line to dry J tells me that he can't wait to see the reaction of the woman who washes the clothes for some of the students. Apparently last time she was already absolutely surprised to see my clothes washed. J reckons that she will have an amazing reaction this time seeing: five trousers, a huge towel and and my blanket cover. I laugh and imagine J sitting on the staircase and waiting for the woman. Then I ask J about the finger tricks being sex signs and he starts laughing quite hard. He says that this is just a believe of a few Tanzanian people. I don't need to bother.

Soon I will meet the other students of our house because their holidays are over now. J warns me that they will ask me a bunch of questions because of my clothes on the line.
When we come back from dinner we find ourselves surrounded by a dust cloud. “Too much dust. Oh by the way… What is the Swahili word for dust?” “Vumbi.” We shield our faces from the dust and I have to ask: “Did you say vumbi or vomit?” I found a memory hook and make us both laugh.

Last day of examination P6 is noisy so G goes there, I follow him to prevent the worst. He pinches the students at random but he won't allow me to say a single word. I don't care I tell him and the children seem amazed that someone dares to open the mouth. Their next exam is ICT I know I only told them about half of the keyboard but it's more than this so I tell them to study with their textbook if possible.
JM asks me wether I could mark his history exams over the weekend. I say sure. This is going to be funny. When I bring JMs exams to my bag I pass a student from P6 who grins at me. My jaw drops. His teeth are blue. I ask what happened and he presses his lips together. I repeat me question slightly angry and he says he tried to fix his pen. “With your teeth?” I am both shocked and amused. How often did I tell them not to put the pen in their mouth? How stupid can you be to not notice this amount of ink? I tell him to go to the staff room. He refuses. Now I'm getting angry he obeys teachers who cane him and disobeys me who will protect him from this kind of punishment? I tell him he should stop negotiating and start walking. I push him and finally he moves. I present him to his class teacher who is seriously surprised and angry. He asks me wether we should cane him but I say I'd prefer humiliation. He gives me freedom. I laugh and we start saying “Hey” to every teacher at first he laughs but that is soon over. A secondary student just came in with her pen in her mouth and I tell her to stop. She doesn't understand me and he opens his mouth and she finally gets it and looks a bit shocked. We go to see the head master. He refuses again but I remind him that no one is going to hurt him. We go inside but only the school manager is there. She is seriously angry and reminds him of all the times he had to write an apology letter and me telling them every lesson not to put the pen in their mouth. He starts feeling ashamed. We go and look for JM he starts feeling afraid of getting hurt. When we come to the class where JM is supervising, however, I see AM canning students very hard. I ask him to stop. I ask what happened and I try to distract him with the blue teeth but he doesn't stop. He has finished (I saw three students getting canned and 12 are crying). He tells me they failed. I think: “Great surprise you are their teacher and I saw your exams. They are the funniest I've ever seen.” But I'm to shocked that this could cheer me up. We show him and JM the blue teeth and their jaws drop too. He starts crying when we make him show this to every student in this class. I'm sorry that he is crying but this will change his attitude. I want to go to the other teachers and the next class so that every single student will know not to do this again. But he is crying seriously and I see I've reached his understanding. He goes and washes his mouth. I want to go to P4 and when I see them G is there caning them. I asked what happened he doesn't answer nor stops. I ask the other students but they are too afraid to answer. I go between him and the student to force him to tell me the reason first. He pulls the student around me and finishes his number of eight. I take her into a hug and try to share my sympathy with her. He caned them on the hand so I know it must have been something they've written. Yes, they failed.
I tell the students to cool their hands with water and I check wether they are hurt somewhere else. How can they cane students? They should ask themselves why those students have failed and not think students are just stupid. They might be the problem not the students!
I go to P6 when I see that there are guys making fun of the blue teeth of their classmate. When I arrive I see another girl chewing her pen. I'm getting seriously angry. I tell him to show her his blue teeth and he starts laughing. I see that after washing his mouth is not much better looking. He laughs and doesn't seem to have learned his lesson. I tell him to go to P4 right away. They are always loving it when I'm there and this time they will see what happens when you get too used to putting the pen into the mouth. He refuses again and grins. I tell him that I won't allow him to disrespect me like this. He starts crying again. I tell him that He respects teachers who hurt him and are rude and he can do me a favor and start respecting me. I'm polite and I'm not hurting anyone physically, he is only crying because he feels the humiliation in front of his classmates and he knows I'm right. I tell him again he can go to P4 now a few minutes ago he was laughing and now he cries without anyone doing something.
He says: “I won't go to P4.” I ask him for a reason. “If you can give me a reason, you can stay hear.” He keeps crying and says he can't give me one. I give him time then he says: “They are stubborn.” I tell him this is not a reason not to go there. He keeps crying and I say I won't hurt him nor anyone else. He doesn't move. I tell him to do what he's told next time and then leave. I am angry.
After another exam I go to the staff room and he comes by grinning broadly at me. Nothing seems to have changed but I do hope that he is just acting to be tough.
G takes a toy from a student. It's a broken rubber band on which the lid of a soda bottle is fixed. The lid has teeth and if you pull and release the band quickly the lid turns and it makes a sound. I don't know why but when I am marking he comes with that toy far too close. I am super annoyed and when I tell him that it disturbs me, he looks so arrogant I get angry and the wish to slap him. He is still that close. I somehow get why the teachers are in a bad mood and release their frustration on children... But I won't hurt someone physically just because I'm in a bad mood! I will keep an extra distance and tell them to be careful.

I would like to meet all the other students but after one hour only two people showed up. I bought a game called “black stories” in English. It’s about soling a mysterious death or crime by just asking yes-or-no-questions. Just one sentence is read out and the other people have to “Guess why?” To spread the knowledge of our meeting J asked our hous-keeper to tell everyone because of my tight schedule and he said it was Tanzanian style.
The students who came are very nice so we start playing black stories. The sentence is: Because the woman was too long on her phone she died. A long break follows a short discussion in which they figured out the woman was sitting in a car. When I give them a hint that they have to figure who called, one guy says traffic. I have to laugh and I imagine a traffic calling someone sitting in a car: "Hello, thank you for your presence. We really appreciate you." When I say so everyone laughs.
After two hours in which they got the whole mystery J and I go for dinner and talk about our experience and when we come back to that particular moment where the student said: “Traffic called.” I realize how crazy (this is exaggerated these people sometimes are:
JM kept calling me his daughter.
Everyone asks: Do you go to church?
BM asking me for a girlfriend.
The street-stranger keeps saying that he's happy to see me and to talk to me. “I'm going to see you. See you tomorrow. Bye. See you. Have a nice evening. See you. We see each other.”
M saying stuff like: “I know a lot of white people. They have been in my room.”
Everyone calls me Mzungu. The reaction that follows is: “She speaks Swahili?”
And now: “Traffic called.”
Honestly, you Tanzanian people are funny.

On our way to the dancing lesson we cross a school that obviously has lessons on Saturdays. The children are waiting in the school bus for the take off and as we pass one girls sticks her head out of the window and says: “Hello.” I say: “Hello” back. Then she says: "Tell me your name." I have to laugh and say: “No, sorry.” We pass another school bus and the children are younger than in the other bus. They stick their hands out and try to reach for me. I give them a high five but some of them want more and try to get a grip on me. Luckily my hands are still creamy because of my sun blocker and so no one can really hold on. We continue walking and a few students scream Mzungu behind me. I turn around and say in Swahili that I'm not Mzungu. My reaction, however, was so quickly like a native one that even I was surprised and grin proudly whereby J starts laughing and turns around to see how the students react. They are awestruck.
We walk down the street (it’s a hill) and one school bus comes by the girl sticks her head out again and says: “Tell me your name.” J and me are laughing. When we pass a few minutes later a shop where we sometimes buy bites we see the school bus holding there. J says: “Wait she will ask you again.” I say: “If she does this is definitely going to be in my blog.” She says again: “Please, tell me your name.” I say: “No, sorry.” We continue walking and add this to the list of crazy things someone said.