Most processed good found in Tanzania are produced out-of-country. Almost anything that comes in a jar, bottle, box or can has writing both in English and Arabic. In the beginning this was always intriguing. It wasn’t every day that you saw a can of tomato paste with Arabic lettering. But now it is something that we are much used to. Even my phone can write in Arabic! Perhaps now when I go home it will be strange that nothing has Arabic writing.
Attachment
By Cindy Johnson
For several years, I have escorted undergraduate students to Africa for a class I teach on the conservation biology of Tanzania. This is a wildlife safari complete with elephants, lions and zebra as well as traditional bushman who still hunt and gather wild foods. During the safari, I am confident that each student will experience some changes in the way they view the world. They all leave the US with anticipation of seeing elephants, lions, cheetah, monkeys and giraffes. They return with these memories; not at all disappointed. However they also come away from the journey with ideas they didn’t expect, big life questions and touching memories of Tanzanians.
Safari campfire discussions about Tanzanian lifestyles and standards allow students to reflect on their own lifestyle and standard of living. Students begin to probe deeper and question issues of sustainability, ethics and questions such as “What does it take to be happy in life?” “Does material wealth mean happiness?” Most of the students arrive home with serious questions about their need for material goods. Images of impoverished but happy Tanzanians complicate their reentry into the US. So if Tanzanians can be happy with so little, what is wrong with Americans, who can’t seem to find happiness despite all the material wealth? Though not evaluated or graded, this clearly is one of the most important lessons learned on the trip.
Over the years I have wondered myself about Tanzanians. Are they truly happier? Do they know something Americans and others don’t know? It has always seemed trite to me to say that Tanzanians are content with what they have. Though this may be true, it implies that they don’t want more material wealth. Perhaps they do want more. Is there a difference in world views that enable Tanzanians to be happier than Americans?
It wasn’t until residing in Tanzania for several months that a confluence of events allowed me to recognize some of the differences. It all came together, innocently enough, on a day that I had set out with a Tanzanian friend to day hike up the slopes of Kilimanjaro. I was excited to see the forest, challenge my muscles and enjoy the company of my friend. We had packed our lunches, driven to the park entrance and I anticipated a glorious day on the mountain. My anticipation and expectation quickly turned to disappointment and anger when we learned that we couldn’t hike that day.
I was unwilling to let go of my disappointment and anger. I had become attached to the outcome of hiking up the mountain and could not easily let it go. In the States, generally plans go in accordance with the preparation and I had prepared. The injustice of not being able to do what I wanted to do was unsettling. My friend on the other hand, though disappointed, was able to shrug his shoulders and offer another plan. He was not attached to an outcome in the way I had been.
As we adjusted our plans and drove to our new destination I reflected on why I couldn’t let it go. I come from a culture where one can plan and anticipate outcomes. I realized how keenly attached to the outcome of hiking I had been. My friend comes from a culture where things change constantly; he was not attached to the outcome. I couldn’t easily detach myself from an outcome. My friend shifted easily and almost instantly. I was unhappy while he was quite content. I wondered as we drove, what was wrong with me, why couldn’t I make this transition as easily as he had. Maybe Tanzanians are simply happier people.
This is a culture in which change and unpredictability are certainties. Even rules and regulations are trumped by reality in whatever form it takes. Though Tanzanians can anticipate an outcome they do not become attached to it due to the likelihood that it may never happen. As I pondered this, many things suddenly made sense. In the States we can plan. We have rules and regulations that allow us to achieve what we set out to achieve. We have support systems that function efficiently.
This is not the case in Tanzania. One can plan here, but things may or may not happen in the way you anticipate. Allow me to illustrate the difference with a simple example. In the States when students plan to go to college, they get the necessary loans and with the help of clearly stated loan regulations they can plan to attend college for four years. Sometimes if the loan paperwork wasn’t processed properly there may be problems, but for the most part it is a smooth, predictable and relatively easy process. A Tanzanian student on the other hand faces more uncertainties in acquiring a loan for college.
Just as in the US the process is govern by regulations and tedious procedures. However, unlike the US, in Tanzania, even the successful applicant is not guaranteed the anticipated outcome of completing a degree. Recently I read in the paper that there isn’t enough money for student loans. In Tanzania the government issues the loans and pays the institutions directly. So if the government doesn’t have money, it doesn’t matter if the student is entitled to a loan. With no incoming government money the universities and colleges hold the students “hostage”. They are not allowed to take final exams unless they are financially solvent with the college. So an entire semester can be lost in the end. Or as happened to other students, the government simply neglected to process the paperwork in a timely fashion and final exams were jeopardized.
My sensibilities cry, ‘Injustice!’ because I am American and consequently largely entitled. My Tanzanian friends, though angry and discouraged expect these uncertainties and are much quicker to accept the outcome. They do not dwell on it, for dwelling on these uncertainties would certainly lead to an unhappy life. Instead they accept it in stride. It is important to note, that they don’t necessarily like the outcome. They too are angry and discouraged, but it takes them much less time to accept and move on.
The lesson for me is clear. We can’t control outcomes and remaining attached to a particular outcome only leads to unhappiness. So is this the secret? Is this why Tanzanians are happier? Perhaps. It seems to me a more likely answer than believing that Tanzanians aren’t interested in having material things. Students here, like students in the US, covet fancy computers, cameras and iPods. We all posses the desire to have more, do better and achieve, but we don’t all have the resiliency, nor acceptance for unpleasant outcomes.
Though perhaps all humans desire to have more material wealth it is not an expectation to which they are attached as it can be in the US. For Tanzanians the desire to achieve (tasks or wealth) is strong, but uncertainties restrict attachment to these achievements / outcomes.
Though this may not explain why Tanzanians seem happier, I know there is a lesson here for me. Happiness resides in an ability to let go and to not form attachment to outcomes. I am not entitled to any specific outcomes and the sooner I let this notion go, the happier I will be. Once I was able to let the mountain hike go, we had a wonderful day of birding with the added bonus of swimming in a lovely tropical springs surrounded by luxuriant figs and palms.
In my musings that day I also realized that easy acceptance of outcomes explained yet another trait I had observed. Tanzanian students appear to settle for outcomes almost too easily. Extending these thoughts a bit further helped me see that the extreme of acceptance is acquiescence. Tanzania students are not acquiescent; nor are they militant about fighting for their rights. There are times when being attached to outcomes and persisting is important. The wisdom is in knowing when to let go and when to persist.
The truly happy people are those who have achieved a balance; people who have learned when to let go and when to persist. Perhaps material wealth isn’t one of those important things.
Tea. Or chai. Tanzanians love their tea time. Everyday in the late morning a special time is reserved for tea break. When tea time comes everyone stops what they are doing and faithfully observes the break. The tea is always the same but very good. The black tea is served with milk and so incredibly hot that I always wonder how the Tanzanians can drink it straight away. (I have come to the conclusion that their tongues are some how genetically equipped so as to be impervious to hot temperatures.)
As well as a love for tea, Tanzanians have a very fond appreciation of sugar. Very fond. After a Tanzanian receives his/her steaming cup of tea they will immediately add three or four or more heaping spoonfuls of sugar. Whenever I observe this, the first thing that always comes to mind is ‘saturated solution’. I’m not sure if Tanzanians are aware of this, but there is a limit as to how much sugar can be dissolved in one cup of tea. If you take a modest amount to sugar, say two spoonfuls, you will get a strange look that translates into something like ‘crazy American’. The strange part is that most Tanzanians don’t like sweet things. They don’t crave desserts or eat candy like Americans but they add enormous quantities of sugar to their tea. I’m not sure I understand that one.
Tea is often taken with a small food bit such as chapati (a flat bread) or maandazi (think doughnut minus the frosting).
I have become much attached to the concept of tea time. First, I like the idea of a second breakfast (though for most Tanzanians it is their breakfast). Second, it provides a nice break in work. And third, there is the social component that draws people together. For these reasons, I think a tea movement should be started in America to instate a tea time in our daily lives. I have gotten used to tea time and I don’t want to see it end.
Today we start with the Mundane Yet Remarkable Thing number one. This happens to be livestock. A very mundanely remarkable thing. What is so remarkable about livestock, you ask? Well, first think about livestock in America. What is most likely to come to mind is the classic black-and-white Bessy placidly chewing cud in a serene green pasture surrounded by a white-picket fence. In Tanzania, there are very few of these kinds of cows. Instead the predominant breed here is what I like to call the camel-cow. These cows have humps on their upper backs that remind me of camels. There are also a fair number of long-horns in some areas of Tanzania.
The Camel-Cow
Another common livestock in the States is chicken. But here they wander around in peoples’ backyards instead of being confined to mass cages on industrial farms. In the beginning we remarked on the frequency with which we saw these birds (they seem to show up everywhere, from ditches to restaurants to buses), but now this has become commonplace. Oh, and roosters don’t just crow at sunrise. They do it whenever they feel like it. 
The two other common livestock are goats and sheep. These often graze the roadside ditches with cows. This is the second remarkable thing that has become commonplace. Livestock here are not restricted to pastures but graze wherever fodder is available which is often on roadsides. Drive along any road and you’ll eventually see livestock busily munching roadside greens or plodding leisurely across the road. (Naturally, the more of a hurry you’re in, the more leisurely the livestock plod.) Initially we were intrigued by the herds crossing the roads followed by their herder but these days we hardly notice.
As departure looms with less than a month less, I will be using the rest of the days to reflect on my time here. Over the next three weeks I will be writing short commentaries on things that were once strange, unusual, or fascinating and are no longer out of the ordinary. These are the every-day things that truly define a culture – how people act, how they talk, how the environment looks and more. These are the things once seemed exotic and intriguing but now are commonplace. I aim at posting one commentary each day or at least every other day so take a moment from you coffee break and keep updated.
In American culture the word shopping conjures up images of gossiping teenage girls clutching designer purses, and soccer moms pushing overflowing grocery carts through the isles of Cub-Foods with Junior sitting up front, screaming for a box of Coco-Puffs. In Tanzania, shopping is done a little differently. Sure, girls here, as all over the world, like buying the latest fashions and you can find mothers in any country purchasing food for the dinner table. It’s the way shopping is done wherein the difference lies.
Many Americans like buying in bulk and keep enough food stashed in the cupboards to last a nuclear disaster. Refrigeration and stores like Sam’s Club make this possible. When you don’t have reliable electricity, or no fridge at all, you are less inclined to buy in bulk. People here more often buy as needed. You see people in the supermarket buying just a few items - a loaf of bread, a bag of sugar.
In the States, when you buy something, the price is always greater than you initially think it will be because of taxes. Here, the price is always lower than the initial value because of bartering. This fact of life has refreshing and I think switching back to paying full price for vegetables in the State will not be a favorable transition.
Learning to bargain is not an element of most young American’s education. The only time this skill is used is at summer garage sales, a relatively low percentage of the average shopper’s expenditures. So naturally, when I first arrived on this wonderful continent I was naïve bargainer. However, I was a quick study and I can now confidently navigate my way around any marketplace. This isn’t to say it was an easy subject to master.
The most important part to bartering is knowing the true value of the good you want to purchase. This is very difficult when you are unfamiliar with the prices of the goods. You may know the average price of a gallon of milk or bag of potato chips in your state, but do you know the prices of these goods in Russia? Probably not. So when you first arrive you are very susceptible to anchoring (the belief that the first price mentioned is the closest to reality).
This problem is further exacerbated by the colour of my skin. Much as many Americans stereotype Africans as being tall, Africans think all Americans and Europeans are rich. Consequentially, the moment a mzungu (white person) walks into a market, the prices increase twofold or more.
Upon entering a market, a food market for instance, the first thing you see are the stacks of carrots, pyramids of tomatoes, and other arrangements of fruits and vegetables, the old umbrellas protecting the goods from the sun and the seller, usually a woman, sitting behind her foodstuffs. The first thing you hear is “Hallo, rafiki!” (Rafiki means friend in Swahili.) Each vendor vies for your attention hoping to get the gullible mzungu to pay inflated prices. If you stop to inspect their wares, they will say, “Good price for you, rafiki!” which really means ‘double price’ as any price you are given is nowhere near the real price that would be asked of any native Tanzanian. Even location within the market can affect price. On the edges of the market, where most Caucasian tourists buy food, the prices are even higher than those at the heart of the market where fewer mzungus wander.
This prejudice pervades the culture and becomes irritating when you are continually asked to pay twice or thrice market value. It is true that many visitors to Tanzania are rich Caucasians going on safari, but this is a poor representation of the American or European pocketbook. There are also volunteers who are living off only a small stipend. I even know some Tanzanians who are richer in their own country than my family is in the States.
Even knowing the real price does not guarantee you a fair transaction. Once you are given the initial price you may ask for half that knowing the seller has given you the mzungu price. But the seller will want to haggle more and you may still end up paying too much. It takes tricks like feigning disinterest, pointing out the poor quality of the product, and walking away to get a price worth paying. This process takes time and having to repeat the procedure becomes tiresome. However, arriving home with a fair deal is quite satisfying.
My year in Tanzania has taught me many things. Here is a list of some of those things.
Now that you know a little more about schooling in Tanzania, I can tell you more about my adventures as a teacher. This year, before arriving in Tanzania, I thought perhaps I could volunteer at a school and help tutor or do other things. What I never expected was that I would become a teacher.
Needless to say, when I was offered a position as a teacher I was shocked. In the States, being a teacher requires taking many classes, student-teaching and passing exams. I have just finished high school (only a few years ahead of some of my students) and the closest I’ve ever been to teaching is class presentations. I am more than confidant that this makes me far less than qualified. That said, I am probably a more normal teacher here than I would be in the States. The profession of teaching in Tanzania is, for most, a fallback job. For many of them it is a capital-raising stop to gather enough funds to continue their education at university so they can get the job they really want. Many teachers here were never interested in teaching and are only teachers for the money (though being a teacher here doesn’t pay well either). I find this point shocking when I think about it because teaching is a profession that truly requires passion. A good teacher is one who loves his/her job, not one who is just in it for the money.
And so I became teacher of Information and Computer Studies. In my first week I acquired a syllabus. For many of the topics I was to teach, I was either unfamiliar with or totally unaware of the material. Only after some serious research was I able to acquaint myself with what I was to teach.
I have found many challenges in my new profession. The most obvious is that I’ve had no experience teaching. This problem is magnified when you are teaching in a different country. Within your own school system you know how things work. You know the level of material students are taught at various levels, you know how the marking scheme is laid out, you know how things are done. Here I’ve had to figure out what my students knew before I could start.
I’ve been teaching Forms I and II which are the Tanzanian equivalent of 8th and 9th graders. Though you might assume that because there are so many students in a classroom that they are ill-behaved. On the contrary, Tanzanian students are actually much better than American students. When a teacher enters the classroom, all of the students rise and say “Good morning/afternoon, teacher” which is then returned by the teacher. All of the students stand until the teacher tells them to sit and then class can begin. If a student is called upon, he/she will stand before answering. Questions addressed to the class will be answered in a chorus “Yes, teacher”. Students are taught to respect teachers from the start the way we are taught to eat with our mouths closed.
This respect seems like a great system until you learn how it is enforced. In Tanzania, punishment is legal and widespread. Students who misbehave are paddled or caned. In one instance, I was sitting in the teacher lounge before class when another teacher brought in three boys. He first caned their hands three times each and then set them hopping out the door and back to their classroom like frogs. Just as common, and probably even more effective, is humiliation as a form of punishment. When the other teachers find out I don’t believe in these types of punishment, they ask, “Then how do you keep them under control?” To them, this is the only way they know.
The students seem to like having a mzungu (white person) teacher, though they probably have a harder time understanding me. My American English with a non-Tanzanian accent has on several occasions confused them. But I find that as long as I speak slowly, repeat myself and write on the blackboard they seem to understand. Or at least they say they do.
Unlike in the States where children grow up around computers, many students here have never even touched a computer. So teaching computers requires starting with the basics of turning on the computer and how to use a mouse. Now teaching computers, once you know where to start, isn’t an altogether difficult task. But teaching computers without electricity on the other hand, can be rather challenging. Two lessons plans per class period are required – one for electricity and one without. And even more challenging than no power is variable power because you never know which version to teach, practical or theoretical.
Even on a good day, one with reliable power, teaching computers can be difficult. When you have a class of 60+ students and less than 30 working computers, things can be a bit crowded. Though my school is lucky enough to have computers, all of them are old and a few of them are nonfunctional. Students have to share machines, often three to one computer, which means each task takes three times as long because every student needs to do the exercise in rotation.
Assigning homework can be just as difficult at teaching without electricity. Students here don’t have textbooks for most of their classes (and if they do they share), the library is small, and of course they can’t just hop on the internet to look things up. Consequently, this means think of out-of-class-work becomes a creative exercise. And grading that homework is no easy task when you have over 60 per class essays to mark.
Through grading of homework and exams, observation, and other ways I have noted that Tanzanians excel in rote memorization but are challenged by creative thinking. Students here can memorize formulas, definitions and lists and hold on to that knowledge for long periods of time but problem solving is not taught. Though some school-knowledge is valuable in daily life, the most important things you learn in school are not the facts, but what to do with those facts. If I could leave my students with only one lesson it would be the importance of thinking creatively is.
Though it has been difficult at times, I am glad to have had this opportunity as a teacher. I have learned many things about teaching and probably just as many about being a student.
This year I have been teaching in a Tanzanian school. It has been interesting to see how things differ between schooling here and in the States. Here is a look at some of the things I’ve noticed.
In Tanzania school years are arranged a bit differently. You start out at age seven with primary schooling which consists of seven years, called Standards. These first seven years are mandatory. After that, if you wish, you progress to a secondary school for four more years. At this level grades are known as forms and are not required by the government. And when you’ve completed Form IV, if you have passed your exams you can continue with Forms V and VI. In these two forms you choose a ‘career-track’ which formulates three major class focuses. For example, if you wanted to be a doctor you would take the PCB track in which you focus on physics, chemistry and biology. Once you’ve graduated from that, you are able to go to college or university, which an increasing number of students are doing.
Unlike in the States, schooling here is not free. Tuition, books, stationary and uniforms all incur costs that, only some of which is covered by the government. Unfortunately, this means that some families don’t have enough capital to send all their children through school.
Another difference is dress. All Tanzanian school have strict dress codes and students wear school uniforms. Depending on the school colours, the uniform is usually wine-red or navy-blue (though any colour is possible) slacks for boys and skirts for girls with a white shirt or blouse. Shoes are traditionally black Dockers which are meticulously buffed to the teachers’ standards.
School systems in Tanzania aren’t standardized as they are in the States. Many public schools are gender segregated and there are also many more private schools here. Most Tanzanian schoolchildren board at their schools. This is partly due to the fact that many children are sent half way across the country to a school. This happens because the closest good school may be that far away, the child wants more independence, or for other reasons. Some families even choose to send their children out of country.
Unlike in the States, here you don’t get to choose your classes until Form VI. Until then you take the same classes with all your classmates for all four years of secondary school. For example, at my school those classes would be, Physics, Biology, Kiswahili, English, Computer Studies, Bible Knowledge, Geography, Civics, Commerce, Book-Keeping, Chemistry, and Basic Mathematics. Class schedules are arranged in typical American university fashion, with certain classes on different days.
Due to the lack of teaching staff and budget, classes are crowded and often have over 60 students per room. Your typical classroom has one old pitted chalkboard at the front, bared windows, and rows of wooden desks and benches crowded with students.
Tanzanians recognize English as an important international language and as so, English is taught from primary school and upon reaching secondary school, all classes are taught in English. Of course having been a former British colony, Tanzanian teaches proper British English. I particularly love this point of being taught in a second language, though it can be incredibly difficult, because it helps fluency so much. I wish my schooling could have been done in such a manner.
As for similarities, Tanzanian schools, like those in the States, have many standardized tests. To graduate from Form IV, you must pass standardized exams in all subjects that, I would say, are more rigorous than their American equivalents.
Another big difference is out-of-class work. There are no janitors or custodians here. It is the students that are required to keep the school clean and in order. Additionally some schools have shamba or farms on which the students plant, weed and harvest maize and other crops.
