Hogs and Holes: A Home-stay Experience

The Infamous Pigs

Little Beni and I

The Fam and I

A home-stay is basically where a foreigner stays at the home of locals in whatever country he/she is visiting or living. Therefore, home-stays are always quite the interesting experience as one adjusts, adapts, and reflects on the living and social habits and traditions of a particular culture different than his/her own. My home-stay in Lushoto was no exception, but brought immense joy to my heart. As I was finishing packing my bag with necessities I knew my family wouldn’t have, such as toilet paper, three boys ages 16, 13, and 8 show up to collect me. Just seeing them ignited so much excitement within me. I noticed how nicely they were dressed just to come get me as I followed along behind them down the worn, uneven clay road. I was quite nervous as I thought about what I might be getting myself into. I thought about the bathroom or no bathroom situation, where I was going to be sleeping and possibly with whom, if I was going to have to eat liver or another foreign body part of an animal, and if they were going to be able to speak any English. After a short ten minute walk with little conversation as Swahilli sentences are quite difficult to formulate, we turned beside a rural, shack store, called a duka, and made our way down the hillside to their house. The colorfully painted mud house was surrounded by banana (ndizi) trees, avocado (parachichi) trees, corn (mahindi), many other vegetables, and heaps of tropical flowers. Mama Bosco, mothers are called by their oldest child’s name following Mama, took me straight to my room with my own bed. I was so glad to have my own bed, but I knew that meant that all three boys would be sleeping together in one bed. Tanzanians are so generous, and I knew I couldn’t say no, but I felt horrible about it. After setting my bags down, Mama Bosco took me straight to see the five pigs behind the house. I mean the stalls were pretty clean, but the smell and amount of flies was a little out of control. She additionally pointed out the bathroom/bathhouse which was just the next stall over from the pigs and contained one hole in the ground for using the bathroom and another hole for water to drain while taking a bucket bath. The amount of flies in that room might have outnumbered the ones with the pigs. I wish there was a video of me both trying to use the bathroom and bathe in there while fighting the flies. I actually took more advantage of the bucket and smaller bucket of water I was supposed to use to clean afterwards, in my room at night to use the bathroom. I am so very glad I brought toilet paper, which I had to hide because I felt so bad about having it. The rest of the weekend I spent eating way too much food including mostly fried bread, rice, beans, and peanuts. The amount I ate was still not enough though as they made fun of me because the eight year old Beni ate more than I did. The amount of food they eat is incredible. I kept thinking that maybe it was a good thing that I was eating so much rice and bread as I didn’t have to use the bathroom all weekend. Too much information I know, but so much to be thankful for! In addition to eating, Mama Bosco and I spent all day cooking the food for every meal, as one pot over charcoal is all we had. Beni and I became best buds, and he called me his sister before I left. I taught Beni how to play tic-tac-toe, thumb war, and hand games that I used to play and little girls still play. In exchange, Beni taught me how to shoot marbles, dance, and made me draw lots of pictures. Even though there were not many words spoken over the three days as they spoke no English, and my Kiswahili was/is still being worked on, I of course cried as I left. Goodbyes are not my strong suit as you all well know. Mama Bosco gave me some cloth that matched hers to wear as a skirt, called a kanga, and Beni gave me a drawing that he had been working on. I was already missing them.

It is so crazy to think that ninety percent of Tanzania’s employed people live on less than $1.25 a day, while the unemployment rate is twenty-five percent. Both of these statistics are worse than the surrounding countries of Kenya, Uganda, and Rwanda. I am sure my family is no exception to these statistics. You would never know this was true though just by seeing their joy and love for one another. When we look at their surroundings and circumstances as Americans, we see an immense need, and there is one. But, I am not sure that what they do have is not just as good as or better than all the stuff we really don’t need. I love the way they take care of one another as a family and a community. It is infectious. If I ever have a family of my own, I would be privileged for it to be anything like the one who welcomed me in as an instant daughter and sister.

I leave tomorrow as well to go to my school near Musoma in the north where I will be staying for the year. I am a little nervous, but excited to see my house and where I will be teaching!

Love you guys, katie :)