WomenCraft is NOW on Etsy!

Whew!  Well...my dad arrives here in 3 days, so I am busy preparing for his arrival.  He is going to bring his optometry, astronomy and magician skills to Ngara, and help to improve the lives of our artisans through eye care and wow the orphanage kids with his balloon animals!  I really, really can't wait.  I can't wait to show my dad how I've been living here and to share his first travel abroad experience with him.

So needless to say, I've been planning for his arrival and have not been concentrating on blog posts.  Also, I've been busy being productive at work!  Which leads me to this exciting announcement....

WomenCraft is NOW on Etsy!

Yep, I got us up last week.  It is the first online shop that WomenCraft has ever had, and for now we're exclusively shipping to the United States!  I am still working on getting products uploaded (as you know with the internet speed/reliability here, it is not an easy task.  Especially since we've been having crazy thunder storms lately), so we have not yet made the Etsy store public.  But...we will be unveiling it very soon. You blog readers get the first sneak peek glance!

Please take a look, shop, and share the link with your friends and family!  I'd also appreciate your feedback, if there are things you think I could improve:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/WomenCraftTanzania

Oh...and while you're at it, if you haven't yet "liked" our Facebook page, please do so! I created it and am the voice behind it, so I'd really appreciate your support.  And again, if you can encourage your friends and family to "like" it too, then we can spread the message of WomenCraft even further:

http://www.facebook.com/womencraft.org

OK - well I'm going to be incognito for a few weeks, but I'm sure to have a great post and photos to share after my dad's trip.  Thanks again for your continued support and happy shopping!

Chakula Kitamu Sana! That Was Delicious!

Whoa.  My past few posts have been kinda heavy, so I'm going to lighten it up a bit and talk about something everybody loves to talk about: Food!

Before I came to Tanzania, I was debriefed on some of the foods I would be eating during my time here.  Ugali, rice pilau, and cucumber salad just to mention a few.  I had these dishes prepared for me, and even made them for some of my family and friends.  And all of these, I was told, I would be eating with my hands.

NOT true people.  I've had ugali once out at a restaurant in Kahama because I specifically searched it out and wanted to try it, had rice pilau a handful of times at home, and cucumber salad last night at a muzungu party in town.  And while I have eaten with my hands a couple of times here, more often than not restaurants - even in Ngara - seem to have utensils at your disposal.  So Cleven, I know that you were looking out for me trying to teach me the local ways, but things here in Tanzania are a-changin'!

Granted, the life we have here at the Retreat House in Murgwanza is not the same lifestyle the locals lead.  But...all the same, we eat many of the same local staples, including:  plantains (which they call "food bananas" here), potatoes, rice, beans, mandasi (google it), chapati, and bread.  Basically anything with carbs goes here.

Here are a few of my FAVORITES, which I will miss so much when I return back to the states:

CHIPS MAYAI (in English?  Eggs & Fries)

Have you ever considered putting FRENCH FRIES in your eggs?  Well, you should.  It's delicious!  And Hilary and I jump at every chance to eat it...in town, at our house, or wherever we are.  Sometimes people put hot sauce on it, and sometimes fresh veggies...like onions and tomatoes.  No matter how you dress it, it's simple, cheap (about $1 USD out at a restaurant), and tasty.

SAMBUSAS

Sambusas are made in a variety of ways.  These scrumptious little pastries are sometimes filled with meat, or sometimes veggies.  If you're buying them off the side of a bus, it's anybody's guess!  But my favorite kind are the kind filled only with rice.  There are two young girls who sell these at the Saturday Market in town, and every Saturday like clockwork I go and buy some from them.  The first time I did, my Swahili was so bad and I was so unfamiliar with the pricing that I ended up buying 30 of them, on accident.  Luckily, we had a potluck that night and I was able to share. I however no longer get "muzungu'd", meaning these girls now know what I want and give them to me at a fair, local price. (10 of these tasty treats cost 500 shillings, which is about $.33 USD).

ROASTED CORN

In addition to piki pikis (motorcycles) waiting for someone who needs a ride and the occasional stray dog or goat, there are corn vendors lining the streets in Tanzania.  These people sit on the side of the road, roasting corn over an open fire BBQ.  It's not sweet like corn at home.  In fact, to me, its more like eating popcorn on a stick. But...when you're wandering around town, its a great roadside snack.  One of these suckers will set you back 300 shillings (um...$.20 USD?)

What say you?  That lady is Indian?  True.  I cheated.  Sorry!  They do the same thing in India and I do not have a picture yet of the corn folks here.  I'll work on it.

Besides that, I will really miss the fresh local fruits and veggies...avocados and mangoes the most.  And...avocado pineapple juice is something they make from scratch occasionally here at the Retreat House, and it is super good!  I will miss that as well.

Overall, food in Tanzania is basic.  No fancy sauces and dishes don't change all that often (some volunteers I know in town working for other organizations, for example, eat the same thing for every meal).  But all in all, I love it.  With my high metabolism, a carb filled diet is right up my alley.  And knowing that 100% of the food comes from a local source (unlike at home) makes me feel even better about consuming it.

I know that some of my readers have been to Tanzania before.  If you have, please share your experience!  How did you find the food here and what were your favorites?  I'd love to hear from you.

Selina Selemani

(Audience note: I have been debating for months on whether or not to tell this story to my blog readers, but after much consideration, I've decided it's important to share. This is a very intimate insight into life here in Africa.)

I first met Selina back in November 2012, just a few weeks after my arrival here in Tanzania. It was Thursday of Route Week, and like we do once a month we stopped by to visit our artisan groups, including artisan group "Kumunazi". Pastor, Ernestina and Edson were there (the local staff), along with myself, Hilary, Linda and Helena (Linda & Helena were from Sweden, and were social impact interns here...they just left last week). As we do when we visit each group, we greeted the women, collected their newly made products, sat in a circle and discussed business. The conversation is always in Swahili, and while I can now clue into a few words here and there, we usually don't know much about what is being discussed until someone volunteers to translate..which doesn't always happen.

This time, Pastor paused in the middle of his Swahili talk and turned to us and said “yes...this one is sick”. He pointed to Selina, who was cradling her left arm like it was broken or something. We asked “how” she was sick, and he turned to Selina and said in Swahili “show them”. As she gently removed her arm from her sweatshirt and unwrapped the bandage concealing her wound, she gradually unveiled her sickness. Selina had approx. 2 inches of bone sticking straight out of an open wound in her arm. All of us “imports” were appalled and searching desperately for answers.

Selina & her arm, pre-surgery.  I also took close ups for the doctors to evaluate, but I  think those might be too difficult to stomach for you blog readers...so I'm keeping those to myself.

“Why hasn't anyone gotten her help? How have we let this continue?”

It was clear from just looking at her wound that Selina would die if nothing was done to help her. And...now all of a sudden, it seemed like it was up to us imports to make something happen. None of us were doctors, and all of us had just arrived in the country, knowing nothing about the medical system and even less about the language. But all the same, this was a human life – not only that, but one of our artisans' lives at stake. We couldn't just sit beside idly while she suffered, when we had the education and tools in our belt to do something to help.

Money, as it often is here, was the obstacle in this case. Selina needed money for medical care, and the money simply wasn't available. That night when the four of us returned home to Murgwanza, we couldn't get her out of our mind. We sat around the table, along with our two other co-workers, Shannon & Geoffrey, and brainstormed. Getting the money wasn't an issue...and the cost of treatment was ridiculously cheap. Mind blowing cheap in fact. It's hard to fathom if you're from the states that someone couldn't get immediate help when treatment is so affordable. Between the six of us, we easily had the capacity to pay for her medical care. However, the real problem was how to treat this situation fairly. See, we have 308 artisan women that we are responsible for, and we couldn't simply give money and treatment to one and leave the others to suffer. 10-15% of our artisans have HIV or malaria, and injuries pop up all the time (for example, one of our artisans last week limped into our meeting due to a snake bite). What would be a fair way to get care for Selina – fast – and also ensure that others would have the same access to care in the future if need be?

So after months of discussion with our Founder, Heidi, and reaching out to family and friends for recommendations, we have decided to establish a micro-finance medical fund here at WomenCraft. It is one of my proudest accomplishments during my time here. We are still ironing out details, but the basic framework is in order. We have started a Pay Pal account, and anyone internationally will be able to donate to this account, assisting our artisans with medical treatment. The fund will be for emergency cases only. We simply can't afford to pay for ongoing malaria or cancer treatments at this time. If the artisans wish to have access to this health plan, they will be asked to pay a monthly or yearly fee. Again, we are still ironing out details, but we have the wheels in motion and hope to have the fund up and running in the next month or so. This past week we announced the medical fund to our artisan women, and asked for a show of hands as to who was interested in partaking. Almost everyone raised their hand.

When we have the medical fund up and running, I will post a link here on my blog and also on Facebook if you are interested in donating.

And...I am very, very elated to report that Selina had her surgery on the 9^th of January, and is recovering just fine with her mom by her side at the hospital here in Murgwanza. Hilary & I visited her the day of her surgery, to check in and also to bring her mom food. Selina's mom was by her bedside comforting her, and Selina was clearly on drugs...moaning and totally out of it, but recovering fine. Just a few weeks ago I had held Selina's mom's hand and promised her I would do everything I could do to get her daughter care. Sharing this moment of recovery with them was really special.

The following day, we all decided to stop by the hospital again to visit Selina at the end of our Route Week day. Pastor, Ernestina, Jackson, Hilary & I all walked into the intensive care unit and were delighted to see Selina sitting upright, alert. However, she was in a lot of pain. They had apparently run out of medicine at the hospital, and tears were streaming down her face. As I stood at the foot of her bed, I reflected on how much pain she had been in for so long, and realized that no matter how much pain she was in at this precise moment, she was soon to feel pain no more.

Then, I looked down at her arm. They had removed the IV from her arm, and the vein the IV had been in was dripping blood. I scanned down further. Her skirt and leg were soaked in blood...from her arm. All of a sudden, I started feeling something I have felt before...but never quite to this extent. My vision started to get blurry and my head really hazy. “Hilary,” I said “I don't feel very good. I think I might pass out”. I walked myself over to the empty bed next to Selina and sat down.

Next thing I know, I'm opening my eyes and Hilary and about 20 Tanzanians are standing around me. Jackson has a coca-cola for me, to help with my blood sugar levels. I'm drenched in sweat. Apparently, I had passed out. Twice. “Nichole, are you ok? That was so crazy,” says Hilary. She said that I passed out, that my lips and face turned ghost white, and that I even twitched a little bit. I don't remember a thing, but Hilary says the first time I passed out I fell straight back onto the bed. Then, I awoke. I remember Ernestina saying to me “ok, lets go” and I remember still not feeling well, and saying “no”. Apparently, that's when I passed out for the second time.

Long story short, my co-workers are not allowing me any return visits to the hospital...unless I need to go there for medical care myself. I will just have to send Selina well wishes through messengers. I hadn't expected to see blood, and obviously it was too much for me to stomach.

My experiences in Tanzania have taught me so many things about myself, and my adventure with Selina is no exception. I know that I feel so happy when I can make a big impact and difference in the lives of others and help in any way, and that even when something seems beyond my control and impossible, I can work through the obstacles to make things happen.

I also now know that I am not planning on applying for medical school. Well...anytime soon anyways.

Side note! My Dad IS a doctor (Optometrist), and he will be arriving here in Tanzania February 1^st! He is going to bring glasses and do vision screenings for our artisans, and hopefully also bring them some scissors for cutting kitenge and toys for their kids. It will be his first time out of the United States, so this will be an eye opening experience for him, without a doubt. I am so proud of him, and so excited for his arrival!

As of today, this blog now has over 1,000 views. Thank you so much for sharing my blog with your friends and family, and most of all for sharing this journey with me.

If At First You Don't Succeed...Dance Again

We've all experienced failure in this life, and we all know how much it sucks. Putting your whole heart, hard work and effort into something, only to see it all fall apart is crushing. Failing is like slamming your ego up against a brick wall until it bursts into a million pieces. You feel empty and sometimes like maybe nothing you ever do will go right again.

I wouldn't by any means call my first dance class at Ngara Secondary School a failure...but it also didn't go exactly how I had planned (if you don't know what I'm talking about, catch up people! Go see my old blog post “One Month In The Tanz - Dance Baby Dance aka Bomba Fresh” before you read on...) I had been teaching dance regularly at our compound to my co-workers, but I really wanted to teach dance out in the community to kids again. However, I feared that my teaching skills lacked somewhere to make that happen. Maybe there was a cultural misunderstanding that I wasn't cluing into, but I was really disappointed because I had so hoped I could teach dance here as a regular hobby and a way to give back to the locals. But...I didn't want to stand up in front of another class of students and start showing them moves, only to have them whistle and laugh at me again.

As you also know if you've been reading diligently, a couple of my co-workers and I visited the Nazereti orphanage for street boys about a week before Christmas to deliver them presents for the holidays. While there, we discussed the possibility of volunteering at the orphanage in the New Year with Nicole (nice name), the lady who runs the joint. She told us that we were absolutely welcome, and then she turned to me and a look came over her: “Hey! Aren't you the dancer? Oooohhhhh how we'd LOVE to have a dance class! Can we PLEASE make that happen?”

I decided not to tell Nicole how reluctant I was to teach another dance class here in Tanzania, and how chaotic my first experience teaching dance had been. It had been rewarding, but overwhelming. I wasn't sure if I was ready for the challenge again. However, if you know me at all you know that I'm probably the last person on this earth to deprive orphans in Africa (or anywhere for that matter) of...well...anything! And so I was honored to be asked to share my passion, and we agreed I would return January 5^th.

Having prepared my class similarly to how I did last time, but ready for anything, Hilary & I marched into Nazereti confident and cool. And besides a glitch with my music selection (we had to teach the dance to “Bad” by Michael Jackson instead of “No Diggity” by Blackstreet...1996 represent!) our class was a huge success. The first thing that helped was having Nicole there, able to monitor behaviors and help translate my English into Swahili for the boys. And secondly and most importantly, all 25 of them were eager and ecstatic to learn hip hop.

These kids know real pain and struggle that I...and probably you...can't even imagine, and they know how to appreciate the little things and good opportunities that come to them. Many of the boys have been beaten or abused, and even threatened that if they try return home they might even be killed. One boy was missing an eye, and another had some sort of medical problem on his scalp that doctors can't resolve. But today, no one lacked a smile...including me. They slide-clapped their way all up the hillside and about 1/3 of the boys nailed the baby feeze – or better – on their very first try. And...they got the choreography! I only taught them two eight-counts, but several of them nailed it and all of them tried every time. My favorite was watching them do the finger to the side of the nose move, where you brush your nose with your thumb. When I turned around and watched, most of them just looked like they were digging for gold. We laughed and laughed. I was so proud of them.

At the end of class, as I was putting away my laptop, one boy came up to me on his own to say thank you – he was the one who Nicole had pointed out to me earlier in the day, and had mentioned was deaf. She said that he couldn't hear a thing, but that he had amazing rhythm. In Swahili, he thanked me so much for coming and asked me to please come back again soon. I have now agreed to return to Nazereti every Saturday for the next month to continue teaching and training this amazing group of boys.

As Hilary & I exited the gates of Nazereti and walked up the path towards home, we had grins on our faces that stretched ear to ear. We reflected on the rewarding and successful experience we had just had, and how smoothly everything had gone. Then, all of a sudden, I hear “Nichole-aye!” and turn to see a young girl standing outside of her family's hut. I don't recognize her, but she obviously knows me. She then smiles coyly at me and starts doing the Dougie dance.

She was one of my students from my first class at Ngara Secondary, back in November. She not only learned something, but still remembered.

And then I realized...maybe sometimes our failures seem like failures...but aren't really failures after all....