(no subject)
I have started a new blog.
It is here: sarahfielding.blogspot.com
yay!
It is here: sarahfielding.blogspot.com
yay!
(no subject)
Last night I was sitting in the campus center talking with my friend Joelle when Joelle brought up a friend of hers who had visited within the first few weeks of freshman year and a mystery he had created for her last semester. Her friend had asked how Joelle's friend Hays was doing. Joelle struggled with all of her might to remember who Hays could possibly be. The friend elaborated on this mysterious person...dark brown curly hair, spoke German. Alas, Joelle just could not figured it out. However, when I returned to campus it suddenly hit Joelle that I was Hays.
You may be wondering...where does Hays come from? Hays is my middle name. I was named after the small Kansan town where I was born. I decided sometime in high school that I was going to be a completely different person in college (turned out true, but for different reasons) and needed a new name to go along with it (turned out false). When I visited Reed College I went by Hays the entire time; I had their admissions department change my contact info. It felt off.
I'm pretty sure the Joelle mystery is because I mentioned my name change at the beginning of Marlboro and a few of my friends wanted to see if it could catch on. It didn't. I had completely forgotten about it, but it makes sense that a friend who had only visited in that small span of time would remember. Now that there are a thousand and a half Sarahs around, I regret that Hays didn't work. I wonder if my Marlboro life would be different if I thought of myself as Hays and not Sarah.
It's interesting what's in a name and how it can affect how we relate to the world.
In other news, I'm readjusting as well as can be expected. I'm having a hard time with time still. I'm going to go to academic support and get stuff settled. I'm also working on my resume and am extremely hopeful I can get an internship with Facing History, Facing Ourselves this summer. It's an amazing organization that creates and advocates curriculum that includes horrific events often not talked about in classrooms in order to help students see how their everyday decisions actually play a part in shaping history. I'm so excited. I am trying not to get too wrapped up in it, but please! please! please! I really, really, really want to work on world history curriculum in my life. I think it's absurd how little about other continents most American high school students actually learn.
I've got to go shower now! I'll keep you posted!
You may be wondering...where does Hays come from? Hays is my middle name. I was named after the small Kansan town where I was born. I decided sometime in high school that I was going to be a completely different person in college (turned out true, but for different reasons) and needed a new name to go along with it (turned out false). When I visited Reed College I went by Hays the entire time; I had their admissions department change my contact info. It felt off.
I'm pretty sure the Joelle mystery is because I mentioned my name change at the beginning of Marlboro and a few of my friends wanted to see if it could catch on. It didn't. I had completely forgotten about it, but it makes sense that a friend who had only visited in that small span of time would remember. Now that there are a thousand and a half Sarahs around, I regret that Hays didn't work. I wonder if my Marlboro life would be different if I thought of myself as Hays and not Sarah.
It's interesting what's in a name and how it can affect how we relate to the world.
In other news, I'm readjusting as well as can be expected. I'm having a hard time with time still. I'm going to go to academic support and get stuff settled. I'm also working on my resume and am extremely hopeful I can get an internship with Facing History, Facing Ourselves this summer. It's an amazing organization that creates and advocates curriculum that includes horrific events often not talked about in classrooms in order to help students see how their everyday decisions actually play a part in shaping history. I'm so excited. I am trying not to get too wrapped up in it, but please! please! please! I really, really, really want to work on world history curriculum in my life. I think it's absurd how little about other continents most American high school students actually learn.
I've got to go shower now! I'll keep you posted!
Sarahs everywhere
It turns out that while I was gone Sarahs appeared all over the Marlboro campus. I start Tuesday mornings with a class of three Sarahs, I move onto another class where there are two of us, then when I head over to my on-campus job ALL of the student employees are named Sarah. I remember the good ol' days when Marlboro was filled with Kates, Katies, and Katherines. Sadly, those days are gone. The funniest thing about this phenomenon is that I was joking with the person who brought me back up to Marlboro about how Sarah wasn't THAT common of a name. He vehemently disagreed. Now the joke's on me.
I think it's funny the name phases Marlboro goes through. My freshman year is was the Ryan/Ryons who dominated. Last year it was the Wills. This year seams to be Micheals.
One more blog entry that can only end in "Oh Marlboro."
I think it's funny the name phases Marlboro goes through. My freshman year is was the Ryan/Ryons who dominated. Last year it was the Wills. This year seams to be Micheals.
One more blog entry that can only end in "Oh Marlboro."
(no subject)
Back on campus and who knows what this semester will hold.
I certainly am a different person than the last time I stepped foot here.
I certainly am a different person than the last time I stepped foot here.
Back Home Again
I have returned to the United States.
My first impression is that everyone really does live like Kings. This entire country is so wealthy. Everything looks so clean, so big, so NEW. I can't believe the variety and selection. At the same time that everything seems so absurdly luxurious it also has a familiarity. I know that I've lived with hot running water almost the entirety of my life. I know that food has always been this available. Yet, I am still completely in awe of how many people have cars, how good the roads are, the fact that this town has 20,000 and two hospitals (with good healthcare). We'll see how reverse culture shock continues. I think it's going to come out the most once I start taking classes.
My first impression is that everyone really does live like Kings. This entire country is so wealthy. Everything looks so clean, so big, so NEW. I can't believe the variety and selection. At the same time that everything seems so absurdly luxurious it also has a familiarity. I know that I've lived with hot running water almost the entirety of my life. I know that food has always been this available. Yet, I am still completely in awe of how many people have cars, how good the roads are, the fact that this town has 20,000 and two hospitals (with good healthcare). We'll see how reverse culture shock continues. I think it's going to come out the most once I start taking classes.
Rhino! and other traveling stories
I just returned yesterday from a 9 day East Africa journey. I have so many stories to tell, but I'll try and hit the highlights here.
We (myself and three other foreign students) took off Saturday morning at around 5 a.m. from the dorm to the bus station by tuk tuk. A tuk tuk is a small form of transport that goes about as fast as a golf cart and looks as if it flew straight off of a tilt-o-whirl. After arriving at Ubungo bus station we got on a bus for Mwanza (in Northwestern Tanzania on Lake Victoria). It took us 26 hours to arrive in our final destination and the roads were pretty horrible. We were bouncing so much that at some point I would land back on my seat with a slight headache. The journey shouldn't have taken quite so long, but at 10 p.m. we had to pull over to the side of the road because the police had reports that robbers were on the lose and would attack our bus. This meant that we all slept rather uncomfortably until 4 a.m. when the bus began to move over all of the headache inducing bumps once again.
Upon arriving in Mwanza we found out that we weren't able to head onto Kigali, Rwanda as per plan until Tuesday because of bus scheduling. We were disappointed about this, but made the most of our time in Mwanza and even did a day trip to one of the islands in Lake Victoria.
From Mwanza we went on to several small towns to make it to Kigali, Rwanda. Crossing the border should have been a scene from the Sound of Music. In order to go across the border you have to walk over a bridge next to a huge amazing waterfall. Once we got to Rwandan customs everyone was so nice and welcoming and kept saying things like "Rwanda is so safe, so beautiful!" It was instantly clear that Rwanda is much better taken care of than Tanzania. Everything is extremely clean. I later found out that every household must supply one person to clean every Saturday and this accounts for the cleanliness. While in Kigali we went to the Genocide Memorial Museum. It's very well done and puts an entirely different feeling on the genocide when you're not just watching Hotel Rwanda, but actually standing in the city where part of it took place. We also passed the hotel from Hotel Rwanda a few times while going around the city. Unlike Dresden, Germany which has an eery feel left over fromt he WW2 bombings, Kigali does not feel like a sad place. It's clean, developed (street LIGHTS, SIGNS, PAVEMENT!!!!) People are very friendly and it feels incredibly safe.
From Kigali our group split with two girls returning back to Dar and myself and another flying on to Arusha (near the famous Mt. Kilimanjaro). While there we went on the Ngorongoro crater safari. It is such an amazing natural formation---incredibly beautiful. and what's super exciting is that we saw a rhino up-close, which is extremely rare.
Now I'm back in Dar where it's hot and sticy. I am finishing up with finals and then I head back to the states in 17 days.
We (myself and three other foreign students) took off Saturday morning at around 5 a.m. from the dorm to the bus station by tuk tuk. A tuk tuk is a small form of transport that goes about as fast as a golf cart and looks as if it flew straight off of a tilt-o-whirl. After arriving at Ubungo bus station we got on a bus for Mwanza (in Northwestern Tanzania on Lake Victoria). It took us 26 hours to arrive in our final destination and the roads were pretty horrible. We were bouncing so much that at some point I would land back on my seat with a slight headache. The journey shouldn't have taken quite so long, but at 10 p.m. we had to pull over to the side of the road because the police had reports that robbers were on the lose and would attack our bus. This meant that we all slept rather uncomfortably until 4 a.m. when the bus began to move over all of the headache inducing bumps once again.
Upon arriving in Mwanza we found out that we weren't able to head onto Kigali, Rwanda as per plan until Tuesday because of bus scheduling. We were disappointed about this, but made the most of our time in Mwanza and even did a day trip to one of the islands in Lake Victoria.
From Mwanza we went on to several small towns to make it to Kigali, Rwanda. Crossing the border should have been a scene from the Sound of Music. In order to go across the border you have to walk over a bridge next to a huge amazing waterfall. Once we got to Rwandan customs everyone was so nice and welcoming and kept saying things like "Rwanda is so safe, so beautiful!" It was instantly clear that Rwanda is much better taken care of than Tanzania. Everything is extremely clean. I later found out that every household must supply one person to clean every Saturday and this accounts for the cleanliness. While in Kigali we went to the Genocide Memorial Museum. It's very well done and puts an entirely different feeling on the genocide when you're not just watching Hotel Rwanda, but actually standing in the city where part of it took place. We also passed the hotel from Hotel Rwanda a few times while going around the city. Unlike Dresden, Germany which has an eery feel left over fromt he WW2 bombings, Kigali does not feel like a sad place. It's clean, developed (street LIGHTS, SIGNS, PAVEMENT!!!!) People are very friendly and it feels incredibly safe.
From Kigali our group split with two girls returning back to Dar and myself and another flying on to Arusha (near the famous Mt. Kilimanjaro). While there we went on the Ngorongoro crater safari. It is such an amazing natural formation---incredibly beautiful. and what's super exciting is that we saw a rhino up-close, which is extremely rare.
Now I'm back in Dar where it's hot and sticy. I am finishing up with finals and then I head back to the states in 17 days.
Change, change, change
Lately, I 've been sitting around thinking about about change. A lot of the things I see in Tanzania as issues that people grapple with have to do with change---a forced, unnatural, better hurry up form of change. In all of my classes we talk so much about how colonialism changed everything, how it forced a new culture on Africa and tried to kill off the "real" African culture. We talk about this longing to return to a culture that no longer exists and talk about current-day African culture as if it is a fraud, a shattered remain of what Africa should be (had only those stupid Europeans not messed it up forever). As I might have said in an earlier post it seems as if Tanzanians have to ask themselves every time they make a simple decision whether or not they are betraying their culture. Should I wear jeans or a kanga wrap skirt? Should I drink juice or coke?
What I think is odd as I think about all of this change is how it mirrors the same questions Marlboroites appear to be asking themselves as they see the administration and student body change. In looking over the recent nook posts (nook is the community online forum) as people debate the smoking question and talk of a deteriorating Marlboro culture, I see the same trends. There is a sense of powerlessness, blaming of external forces, and some hard core nostalgia.
The sad thing is neither Tanzanians nor Marlboro kids ever move beyond the idyllic past and look at what to do with "what you've been given." I should stop making this so 3rd person, as I personally don't know what to do with or about change, either. Why do we wish so hard to hold on to something? What do we do when something we think is precious looks like it's never coming back?
I guess I'm just going to make this one more post that ends in questions.
What I think is odd as I think about all of this change is how it mirrors the same questions Marlboroites appear to be asking themselves as they see the administration and student body change. In looking over the recent nook posts (nook is the community online forum) as people debate the smoking question and talk of a deteriorating Marlboro culture, I see the same trends. There is a sense of powerlessness, blaming of external forces, and some hard core nostalgia.
The sad thing is neither Tanzanians nor Marlboro kids ever move beyond the idyllic past and look at what to do with "what you've been given." I should stop making this so 3rd person, as I personally don't know what to do with or about change, either. Why do we wish so hard to hold on to something? What do we do when something we think is precious looks like it's never coming back?
I guess I'm just going to make this one more post that ends in questions.
Feminism in Africa or how my literature professor told me he paid 20 cows for his wife
esterday when I went to my African Literature lecture and the lector said that the new topic was African Women Writers, I was pretty excited. I know little to nothing about African women writers and was pretty excited to find out why they were a seperate topic, etc. What I did not expect was that the entire lecture would actually be about the American Feminist movement's effect on Africa. Apperantly most African women writers were students who studied abroad in the West and learned about feminism there and they wrote on topics of feminism in Africa when they returned. This all would have been well and good, except that the lecture presented most of the issues these women were dealing with tongue in cheek.
The whole thing really bothered me---not just because he joked at the "absurdity" of a women consenting to sex with her husband or being involved in the decision of how many children she wished to bear, but because I don't know where the cultural line lies. I don't know whether my values are cultural or universal. Can people from outside cultures say that Tanzanians are oppressing their women? Honestly, I have no real problem saying that it is a good thing that women have rights, but is that just because I am from a society that organizes itself around the individual? Do women (in Tanzania) experience oppression because of inequality? The loops I run in my head make it hard to come to any true conclusion. I do know that gender roles are make starker here. Women are quiet. Men make decisions. It's so crazy.
I think a lot of the problems I see that Tanzania has (i.e. development-wise) are largely because anything that would cause the country to move "forward" (come in line with Western ways of doing things---which is how you get trade, funding, etc.---have to please those with the power as it were), Tanzania is faced with a difficult question---change to a "foreign" culture and become "something we are not, imitators, etc." or stay the same and remain in a poverty trap. Individuals seems to always face the question of "if I do this am I losing my culture?" There is such a pressure to preserve, that it seems to hinder any type of social rights movement as things get bogged down in the glorified ways of the past.
I wish I had some conclusion to my rambling, but instead I simply leave you with all of these questions.
The whole thing really bothered me---not just because he joked at the "absurdity" of a women consenting to sex with her husband or being involved in the decision of how many children she wished to bear, but because I don't know where the cultural line lies. I don't know whether my values are cultural or universal. Can people from outside cultures say that Tanzanians are oppressing their women? Honestly, I have no real problem saying that it is a good thing that women have rights, but is that just because I am from a society that organizes itself around the individual? Do women (in Tanzania) experience oppression because of inequality? The loops I run in my head make it hard to come to any true conclusion. I do know that gender roles are make starker here. Women are quiet. Men make decisions. It's so crazy.
I think a lot of the problems I see that Tanzania has (i.e. development-wise) are largely because anything that would cause the country to move "forward" (come in line with Western ways of doing things---which is how you get trade, funding, etc.---have to please those with the power as it were), Tanzania is faced with a difficult question---change to a "foreign" culture and become "something we are not, imitators, etc." or stay the same and remain in a poverty trap. Individuals seems to always face the question of "if I do this am I losing my culture?" There is such a pressure to preserve, that it seems to hinder any type of social rights movement as things get bogged down in the glorified ways of the past.
I wish I had some conclusion to my rambling, but instead I simply leave you with all of these questions.
No Water
The water is out again. I'm upset because I really, really, really wanted to shower this morning, but it is not going to happen. It's funny to think how I've transistioned from wanting a hot shower to simply wanting a shower. The sad thing about when the water goes out is that you'll never know when it will return.
This is a warning that the following of what I am going to say will be disgusting.
The other part of what I hate about when the water goes out is that not only can you not clean yourself or your clothes---the toilets also do not flush. It only takes a matter of hours before the entire dorm smells like sewage. Last year the water went out for an entire month---I really hope that doesn't happen again. We've actually been really lucky with the whole thing. The water normally only goes out about once a week and mostly for only 2-3 days.
The other thing about when the water goes out that I realize is not only how important water is, but also that so many people in Tanzania don't have access to running water. Many parts of Dar es Salaam have their water supplied to them by 15 year kids on bikes who go to a part of the city with water and haul buckets back and forth. Sadly, because of this transportation cost the people who live in parts of the city that doesn't have water have to pay for this water delivery---and if you live in a part of the city that they haven't gotten around to providing water for, you actually probably can't afford for water to be delivered to you---or to have nearly enough water. I'm gaining a whole new appreciation for the squatter toilt, which is actually a thousand times cleaner if you don't have much water around.
In a newspaper article I was reading the other day, it said that the reason Tanzania was listed as the 7th poorest nation in the world was largely due to the fact that still a large amount of the population does not have access to water---it's really bad in rural areas where it takes even longer to haul water. Even though I see the realities of water shortages, it is still hard to believe.
Anyway, that's all the news of the day---I'm dirty, stinky, and ready for the rainy season.
This is a warning that the following of what I am going to say will be disgusting.
The other part of what I hate about when the water goes out is that not only can you not clean yourself or your clothes---the toilets also do not flush. It only takes a matter of hours before the entire dorm smells like sewage. Last year the water went out for an entire month---I really hope that doesn't happen again. We've actually been really lucky with the whole thing. The water normally only goes out about once a week and mostly for only 2-3 days.
The other thing about when the water goes out that I realize is not only how important water is, but also that so many people in Tanzania don't have access to running water. Many parts of Dar es Salaam have their water supplied to them by 15 year kids on bikes who go to a part of the city with water and haul buckets back and forth. Sadly, because of this transportation cost the people who live in parts of the city that doesn't have water have to pay for this water delivery---and if you live in a part of the city that they haven't gotten around to providing water for, you actually probably can't afford for water to be delivered to you---or to have nearly enough water. I'm gaining a whole new appreciation for the squatter toilt, which is actually a thousand times cleaner if you don't have much water around.
In a newspaper article I was reading the other day, it said that the reason Tanzania was listed as the 7th poorest nation in the world was largely due to the fact that still a large amount of the population does not have access to water---it's really bad in rural areas where it takes even longer to haul water. Even though I see the realities of water shortages, it is still hard to believe.
Anyway, that's all the news of the day---I'm dirty, stinky, and ready for the rainy season.
Eee! Eid!
This weekend I took off for Zanzibar (about 1-2 hours via ferry) for Eid and paradise. Word about this trip quickly spread among the foreign student population and basically everyone decided to go. I think poor Eid got hyped beyond its means. With the exception of everyone flooding in and out of the mosques, I am sad to report that there was no massive public party---although all of the little girls were wearing party dresses and every small boy had a tiny plastic gun (disturbing).
Most of the adventure included our hotel jacking up its price and us moving to another hotel and hopping between one nice restaurant, the beach, and another nice restaurant.
It's very interesting to be in Zanzibar and notice the obvious difference in wealth from the island and Dar. I think the wealth and nice things are mostly from and for the tourists. In Dar even the elite class doesn't seem to be able to support any form of luxury industry. It's so strange. Living in Dar has really forced me to reconsider what constitutes a city. Dar seems to lack all of the things that used to be automatic city connotations for me. This includes: nightlife scene, museums, public parks, theater, dance, art galleries, etc. Dar has some of these things, but on such a small scale---I think Poplar Bluff has more.
Anyway, that's all the news from me.
Most of the adventure included our hotel jacking up its price and us moving to another hotel and hopping between one nice restaurant, the beach, and another nice restaurant.
It's very interesting to be in Zanzibar and notice the obvious difference in wealth from the island and Dar. I think the wealth and nice things are mostly from and for the tourists. In Dar even the elite class doesn't seem to be able to support any form of luxury industry. It's so strange. Living in Dar has really forced me to reconsider what constitutes a city. Dar seems to lack all of the things that used to be automatic city connotations for me. This includes: nightlife scene, museums, public parks, theater, dance, art galleries, etc. Dar has some of these things, but on such a small scale---I think Poplar Bluff has more.
Anyway, that's all the news from me.