sad news

April 4th (part 2)

I am going to fill you in on random stories of the last two weeks.

I ate duck. Yes, the first time I ate duck was in the home of a local doctor that lives up a mountain. My friend Hawa, the student teacher from last term whom I’ve spoken about in previous posts, promised me that her mother would cook duck for me. On a Wednesday afternoon, Lindsay and I walked fifty minutes to the home of Dr. Kibona. Dr. Kibona was not around (he never is when I visit) so we spent some quality time with his wife who does not speak English. The duck was the driest meat I have ever had in Tanzania. It was good but definitely missing a sauce. We ate it with ugali which is a lump of boiled flour and very dry as well. Luckily it didn’t have its neck or much fat still attached so I was happy. After the meal Lindsay and I thanked her, waited for the rain to stop, then returned home down one muddy mountain and then up another slippery one.

The Saturday before the duck feast we ran into Dr. Kibona and his wife in Isoko under some awful circumstances. That morning, I was out in my garden doing work when students walked by in their school uniforms. It is not unusual for students to go to school on Saturday, but to wear uniforms is a bit weird. They informed me that a student was killed on Friday evening. Don’t worry, the student wasn’t killed but died. I can’t imagine a Tanzanian killing anyone let alone a student so I knew they just mixed up the word. They told me something was wrong with her heart. Atukuzwe was a form 1 student from Isoko. I actually don’t know many of the form 1 student’s names and didn’t even know until after the funeral that Atukuzwe was a girl (there are boy’s in other forms with that name!). Lindsay and I went with the second headmaster to Isoko following after the students who were singing as they walked to Isoko. The service was very short and sad. Many students were crying and Lindsay and I sat next to the sobbing mother. The service continued into the forest outside of the church where the burial took place. We sat with some of our friends from the hospital who informed us of the happenings behind this mysterious death. Enea told us that Atukuzwe was at the family shamba (farm) collecting maize for dinner. While returning she collapsed, died (instantly—who knows) and then was brought to the hospital when she was discovered. Atukuzwe had a history of heart trouble (found out later this just means she has high blood pressure) and that became the reason for her death. I think she just fell and hit her head and before anyone found her she died but one will never know. Later that day, Lindsay and I shared dinner at Dr. Kitta’s residence but he was just as informative as Enea and we didn’t learn anything new.

Between our random adventures of the week and the fact that all of the new teachers were just given over to new leading roles at school, Lindsay and I again were some of the only teachers actually teaching. The new teachers have taken up positions as academic master or disciplinarian or whatever else the headmaster has assigned for them. They return from their week of getting paychecks in Itumba to a week of adjusting to their new positions. And Tanzanians wonder what is wrong with their education system.

Love,

Gretchen