November 10, 2009
Thursday afternoon my friend, Cheryl, and I were on our way to a nearby hotel bar to get a cold soda and to study kiswahili for our upcoming test. As we were walking, she got a call from our LCF (language and cross-cultural facilitator) but it was kind of garbled. She tried to call him back but the call was dropped. He texted her again and the message contained a code word indicating that we should be on alert. I received the same text as well. We continued on to the hotel and about an hour later, we both received another text message with an upgraded code word. We were instructed to report immediately to our emergency consolidation point. We were told to bring a bag in case it became necessary to evacuate.
The consolidation place was Cheryl's house, so I went home alone to get my things. All we knew was that there was trouble somewhere in the country. When I got home, it was nearly dark and there was no electricity. I was tearing through my stuff trying to pack as quickly as possible. When I was finished, I went outside with my bag and tried to explain to Diana (14) and Judi (16) why I was leaving. I gave Diana a jigsaw puzzle of the United States and, in the dim light, pointed out where I live (or used to live). I told Diana that I would text Aggie (24) who was still at work, but it would take time me some time to look up the words. I was carrying a shell in my hand that the girls had given me and I gave them both big hugs. Both girls were looking quite confused. Diana kept saying "useme kiswahili!" (You speak Kiswahili!) I said "sijui kiswahili! Ninahitaji kusema kiingereza." (I don't know kiswahili. I need to speak English). Finally Diana took my flashlight and walked me and my suitcase down the road. It seemed like all of the neighbors were sitting outside that evening. Halfway down the road, we met Cheryl. She took my backpack and once again, as we were walking, she received a call. This time it was a fellow trainee saying that it was all clear and that we could return home. I received a call from the LCF but Cheryl did not, and since she is our emergency warden, she was not very happy. She ran off to her home to find out why.
Diana and I were still standing in the road, she with my suitcase and me with a big shell in my hand. I turned to Diana and tried to explain to her that everything was now ok and we were going home. Evidently she did not understand, because she started waving good-bye to me. I took her hand and turned toward home. Dragging the suitcase along the dirt road with all the neighbors staring was difficult and embarrassing enough, but now we also had to go through a field in the dark to get to the house. I gave Diana the flashlight to light the way, and hoisted up my suitcase. Diana must weigh less than 80 pounds but she did not want me to carry that bag. I insisted that I was bigger (although she probably is stronger) and that I would carry it. Finally, we made it home and I realized that Cheryl had my room key in my backpack. Once more, we turned around and walked through the dark to Cheryl's house to get the key.
That evening I tried to find the words to explain the day's events to my family. We had been told that some elections had gone bad and that there had been rioting in town, but when I explained this to my family, they looked at me like I had lost my mind. They kept insisting that Tanzania was safe. Victoria wanted to know where Peace Corps thought they would send me: Kenya, Uganda, Mozambique, Congo? Didn't they all have enough trouble of their own? I said I would have been sent to Mozambique. They wanted to know who I would stay with in Mozambique, and I said that I did not know anyone in Mozambique. They thought this, and the fact that Diana and I had been running up and down the road with a suitcase, was hilarious. We had another eye watering, belly splitting laugh. I am so glad that I am such a source of amusement for the Tanzanians in my community.
The next day at the training center, the security director asked if we had any comments about the previous day's event. I raised my hand and repeated the words that my host family had suggested I say, "Familia yangu wanataka kujua kwa nini mlichemsha bongo yangu. Hakuna hatari Tanzania." "My family wants to know why you have boiled my brains. There is no danger in Tanzania." The Tanzanian Peace Corps staff howled with laughter. The language facilitator came up and shook my hand. In a nutshell, it was only a drill, but neither the trainees nor the host families had known it at the time. So during class, I wrote an explanation to my family and translated it into Kiswahili. I felt like I needed to let them know that I was really not insane. That amused my family for another night.
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