The Simple Life: Working to live

Life here is pretty amazing and I'm reminded that a simple life is a good thing. Less is more. Things are much less stressful that way.

Being here is kind of like a combination of summer camp/group therapy/rehab/seminary/detox/school. The only thing missing is a sunrise yoga class, and maybe a spa.

My home-base is comfortable, and quiet, with only the sounds of the neighbor's cows and roosters. The permanent honking of cabs and drilling that I'm used to feels a million miles away.

Our home, pictured here, is like a modest hostel by US standards, but lavish in this community. It is incredibly clean and I've gotten used to our friends the lizards and very large, strange insects I've never seen before. It's  spacious right now with only a handful of us here, but I'm bracing myself for when 30+ people join us in the 8 bedrooms on Saturday. Yikes.

We hand-wash our laundry and line-dry it outside. If it's a large load Rose helps us for a few shillings. While I feel bad asking for her help since she is due to have a baby any minute, she is thrilled for the extra money for her family. It's interesting to try and "enjoy" the slow time to do chores. Hand-washing is quite tedious, and every article of clothing must be ironed to prevent mango flies from laying eggs in the clothes. Don't ask.

Most nights I am so physically tired from the day I am asleep by 10, and up by 6am. It's nice to not lie awake at night with work anxiety and to simply pass out while reading a good book. The roosters then wake me after the best sleep I've had in years.

It's also refreshing to have scheduled meals at 630am, 1pm, and 630pm. This definitely beats running to Jazzy's for a salad only to be grazed on behind a computer close to 3 pm. I'd  almost forgotten what it's like to have regularly home-cooked meals with friends and family. While my diet of wine and cheese has a certain appeal in NY, it also can be exhausting at times to always be out. It has been so nice to sit around the dinner table and chat about our days with my new friends. This is better than the alternative of coming home from work and ordering take-out while zoning out to the tv alone. We often reconvene after dinner over some hot-chocolate or tea to discuss lesson plans for the next day. This sometimes involves writing 30 copies of a handout if we haven't been able to get to a photocopier. I don't mind the task and certainly prefer it to answering late-night emails.

Michele and I helping "make" ugali at the orphanage.

The food is surprisingly quite good (for the most part). Freshly squeezed mango and avocado juice from our yard, and eggs from the chickens next door is as "farm to table" as you get. We have these maize pancake-like things that I love, probably soaked in butter. Lunch is the biggest meal of the day. Dinner usually consists of some sort of meat, potato and veggie. I think only a few times have I had mystery meat which I'm pretty sure was goat. Hm. With the large amount of carb consumption I've gotten over the thought of dropping a few lbs here.

This large pot will feed  the family of 40. Harder to stir than lifting weights.

Almost every home here is individually sustainable. If there is a natural disaster everyone in Africa will be fine with their cows and corn while all of us in America will be fighting over the only canned food we can get our hands on. 80 percent of the population here are peasant farmers by occupation.


I don't actually miss technology all that much, except when the power goes out which seems to be almost every other day (we do have a small back-up generator). I definitely don't miss my phone with the never-ending stream of texts and emails to respond to. I don't even really miss wine (that much). What's happened to me?




I've been able to squeeze in a couple of runs which is also an entirely new world. My parents were worried for my safety but I think the worst that can happen is I trip over a chicken. It would be so like me for this to actually happen. But it wouldn't be the same without one of you there to witness this.

I know a lot of the neighbors by now and the kids can't really comprehend why I would run continuously so they shout "Mzungu! Mzungu!| (white person) and chase after me. Last week they surrounded me in a pack of 6 and ran for at least a mile laughing the entire time. I felt like a celebrity. I always thought those pictures of people like Katie Homes in Africa with dozens of kids touching her face was because she was famous; I now realize it's because they are just fascinated by her skin and they are enamored by the fact that we are foreigners.

It is so incredibly beautiful here I'm trying to take in nature at its best and the different surroundings. I jog past women carrying 30 lbs of bananas on their heads, young girls braiding each other's hair, the guy working in the one room 'shop' that sells sugar, eggs and flour, and pass by acres and acres and acres of corn fields. I jog over a stream and take a moment to take in Mt. Kilimanjaro., "the roof of Africa" and it takes my breath away.

As I head back without my fan club surrounding me this time, I watch the families prepare for dinner and start to head inside. They will all likely be asleep just after the sun sets since many do no have electricity. What I'm always struck by is how incredibly happy everyone seems. Yes, there are problems, and everyone has their woes, but it's certainly not like seeing dozens of stressed-out people in suits getting stressed out by their blackberries while they get stressed-out by the over-caffeinated Starbucks employee that behaves like a robotic Walt Disney character. They tend to their maize, barter for milk, and work physically hard to put food on the table for their families.

One of the many things I'm reminded of here is that more of anything doesn't = better, or happier. And it really is the little things that can make your day. People here work to live, not the other way around. And, being on "TFT" (Tanzanian Flexible Time) is good for the soul to occasionally stop and enjoy what is right in front of you, and not rush off to what's next.

I think we have a lot to learn from this country, not the the other way around.