Welcome to Iringa

I moved to Iringa at the beginning of November to start the environmental program for the T-LED office there. Iringa is a bit more remote than Mwanza was; only tiny Cesna planes fly in and out from their dirt road airstrip, and the main mode of transportation is the 8-10 hour bus ride from Dar Es Salaam.

Mwanza is up in the NW on Lake Victoria, while Iringa is smac.k dab in the middle of the country

Iringa has a totally different feel to the city compared to Mwanza. Not surprising really, as Mwanza is the second largest city in the country and Iringa isn't even in the top ten. However, Iringa appears to be very warm and welcoming. My new roommate is a career volunteer from Uganda; he has worked two year stints in Ghana, Bangadesh, Kenya and now in Tanzania. He is the one who finally taught me how to make ugali, which is the Tanzanian staple at meals.

Ugali is the corn flour porridge thing you see on the right. You take pieces in your fingers and scoop up the beans and other parts of your meal with it.
Picture courtesy of http://blog.samt.st/africa/tanzania/south-west-tanzania-to-malawi-mountains-national-parks-and/attachment/ugali-meal/ 

 I found an absolutely fabulous yoga teacher who offers three classes a week at the local community center, which happens to be a Greek Club. Going to yoga has provided some much needed community, chatting, structure, exercise and friends soon I hope!

Within my first week in town I actually got invited to a Tanzanian's home for supper. I have not had such a treat or sign of acceptance and welcome thus far on my sojourn in Tanzania. I've been invited to attend church with my favourite bodaboda driver in Mwanza, but he was pentecostal, which is the church that likes to scream hellfire and brimstone, expel demons, and speak in tongues, and as entertaining as that may have been I politely declined. How funny that wazungu were proselytizing to the Tanzanians 500 years ago (one source suggests Christianity came to Tanzania with the Roman Catholic Franciscans during the Portuguese occupation between 1505 - 1513), and now the Tanzanians are trying to convert the godless mzungu in their midst.

I had asked the taxi driver to take me around Iringa on my first weekend in town, to show me the good markets, where to kitchen utensils, buckets, pillows, that sort of thing. He spoke some English, and I speak a little Swahili, but after two hours my brain completely shut down and I couldn't understand most of what he was trying to communicate to me. It was a very frustrating and isolating experience. However, at the end he asked me to come have supper at his house with his wife who speaks more English than he does. I have become very cautious as a single female in a foreign country, so I asked for my roommate to join us for supper.

As the day of supper arrived, my dear roommate realized he had double booked himself and bowed out of the supper engagement with me. I was pretty nervous about going to basically a stranger's house in a town I don't know with only my coworker having ever met this guy. However, adventure was calling. I tried to have an open mind and hope for the best. I arrived at his house and his wife came out to greet me with their two children, along with a couple of neighbour children who were hanging out for the evening.

The whole family: Nuru, Hassan, Badra and Ayoub. 

As soon as I walked in I felt safe. Nuru, the wife, spoke fantastic English. She had studied IT in college, and had worked repairing computers prior to starting a family with Hassan (my taxi driver). I made some careful inquiries and found out that although she has more education than her husband, she stays home now raising the children.

The wife and husband said they did not make much money, so they were living in government housing. From what I could see (I only saw their living room area) they had a tv, furniture, solid walls, what I assume was a kitchen in the back and at least one bedroom off to the side. When I again inquired about Nuru's former work and whether she would start working again to supplement the family income, it seemed that there were no plans for her to return to paying work, which made me, with my cultural background, a bit sad. I don't know if their religious beliefs (they are Muslim) had anything to do with Nuru becoming a housewife, or if perhaps that is just the Tanzanian way.

Nuru was cooking away for the first hour I was there, so Hassan and I chatted a little bit in broken English and broken Swahili and he even put on Iron Chef (the Japanese version) for me on the tv! Ayoub (the seven year old boy) showed me his mathematics homework which was in English, and Badra (the 3 year old girl) did her best to pretend to be a monkey. The family was incredibly cute.

Ayoub.

Badra. 

Nuru had made an entirely vegetarian meal for me. There was SO MUCH food. My gosh, the hospitality was incredible. She made my favourite peas in coconut milk dish, along with the Tanzanian usuals. She even made fresh mango, pineapple and orange juice that afternoon for us. Only afterwards did it occur to me that she probably didn't have a blender.

Tanzanian hospitality :D

I had such a lovely evening with this family. I was so happy to finally be invited for supper in a Tanzanian's home. Iringa definitely has a lot of charm.