Monday, October 6, 2008 - Maili Sita... family drama....

Monday, October 6, 2008 - Mili Sita

I slept over at babu rasta's place here in six mile last night. Kefa and I first went to town and bought a ridiculous amount of flowers, real and plastic to place at his mother's grave which I was going to visit for the first time. Sophia's mother welcomed me with open arms and we ate and visited with the family at her house for a couple of hours then all walked in procession with the flowers to Sophia's grave. I didn't cry as much as I expected but enough to bring Bibi to tears which made me feel a bit guilty for opening up still healing wounds. I left Bibi's sooner than Kefa wanted because I was anxious to sit with Auntie Ruki and Babu Rasta. I was imagining an evening of drinking, smoking and chewing mirau, telling each other stories and laughing together. It took me until just before I fell asleep to remember that it is not wise to try and plan such events here in Tanzania because you will surely be dissapointed. You just have to wait for those times to come and be happy when they do. That great evening happened last night for sure, only it was back at my house, at Msasani and not here (even though everyone was expecting me here).

Babu Rasta finally arrived at his house after I had gone to sleep, yelling and swearing outside for all to hear for a good ten minutes before coming inside and invading my room for the first time. He was drunk and high and full of emotion, but that isnt really anything new. The rest of the evening was filled with him fighting with his wife who was chastising him for inviting me over and not hosting me properly, him invading my room (I lost count at six times) to come and tell me how welcome I am in his home, to tell me what a bitch his wife is and once to tell me what a superstar Bryan Adams is (Everything I Do I Do it for You was playing on the radio). Babu wasn't impressed when I told him that I didnt particularily care for his music.

Today I am scheduled to meet with Uncle Booney, Kefa's legal guardian and speak with him about sending Kefa to boarding school. I am nervous and have no idea what to expect. Middle aged Tanzanian men can be so pompous and proud, I sometimes get frustrated early and don't represent myself well. Something I need to work on I suppose as this is not only a Tanzanian trait.

As per usual I found great value unexpectedly last night. I was bored and sitting on Auntie Ruki's front step waiting for someone to show up when Violet came home from work. I have met her a few times before but don't know her very well. We talked for almost two hours and had a very rewarding conversation starting with the details of Sophia's death then branching out to everything in life in general including Kefa's future, Violet's past (she has lost four parent figures just like Kefa.), Working nine to five, and her idea for starting a consultant firm. She is an incredible intellegent woman and has impecible English and it was a challeng for me to keep up with her after dumbing down my language these last few days to communicate with those around me.

Menengitis. It turns out thats what took my friend Sophia. It makes sense, I was confused when I heard of her death because even though she was slowly dieing of AIDS, since Jerry died she was very careful with her health.

Things are never as they seem. In so many things I do I am constantly smacked down by the realization that I don't know what I thought I did, I climb seemingly large hills only to see mountains in the horizon. Recently it has been in learning swahili, incorporating myself into this family and tanzanian culture and understanding myself in this life. Its is very tiring sometimes. I start and quit many things and it seems to be the more challenging and less tangible that I stick with. I hate feeling that I understand something and then finding that I only understand what I have seen and now that I understand that, I can see so much more that I don't understand. I suppose its important to be ok with that feeling and be true to the meaning of my first tatoo that is there to remind me that I will never know everything, I must stay humble to keep learning and that anyone who calls himself a master is not one.