"Pole"

We’re in the middle of our second week in Bangata, and are completely saturated in Kiswahili. We’re slowly improving, learning vocabulary and sometimes making sentences, but as a group we probably all sound like we’re three.

We're all busy at school during the week, and the weekends are full of cooking, cleaning, and family time. We watch soccer on TV if the power's working, and all of the neighborhood kids flood our backyard to do laundry and dishes together. The big event this past weekend was the secondary school graduation that I went to with Mama. After the ceremony, the students lined up while their parents fed them bites of cake, and everyone was roaming around taking photos and passing out presents. I met students, their teachers, and a couple of pastors, and then made the dusty, hilly trip back with Mama and her friends. I also explored the town a little more, walking through forests and swimming in waterfalls with groups of American students. Over the last couple of days, I started helping out at my family’s “duka,” or shop after school—sometimes I pour the kerosene and count out change, but usually I just sit on a stool in the corner and play with my little brothers. It’s getting much easier to understand my family, and talking with customers is great Kiswahili practice (even though they laugh at me most of the time).

In Tanzania, everyone in big on greetings—whenever you meet an elder, or even pass one in the street, you say “shikamoo,” or “I give you my respect.” They respond, “marahaba,” or “I accept your respect,” and then you exchange news of your day, school, work, family, or health. This whole dialogue goes on for a while, and there are tons of variations on greetings that I’m constantly mixing up and stumbling over. So, I have a new favorite word: “pole” (pronounced pole-lay). It technically means “condolence,” but it is also used to express an apology or to say, “excuse me.” Really, it’s condolence with some cheerleading built in. In fact, “pole” doesn’t typically have a connotation of regret or sadness. Walking home from school with our backpacks, we often get pole-ed. When someone is climbing a hill, riding a bike, or carrying some banana trees on their head, you greet them with a “pole.” Rather than the feelings of embarrassment that surface when one is caught in a “sorry” exchange, trading “poles” in the middle of a hot, dusty trek or after a long day is really uplifting.

More news from Tanzania: This coming Saturday, we head off to Tarangire National Park for another safari. So, more camping and many more animals. It’s the dry season in Tanzania right now, which means that impalas, zebras, and wildebeest are heading towards the main water sources (one of which runs straight through the national park). Their predators (lions) are right behind, so we should see some of those from our Land Rover…and the park is filling up with elephants.

Here’s a better address to send mail to: PO Box 6007, Arusha, Tanzania. No pressure…love