Rob is in Africa.

10.14.2006

Jazzercise!

Well, now that I have been here for a year, I've acclimated to a number of things that were at first quite foreign to me. One of the most major difficulties was adjusting to the types of foods available here. When I first learned that I wouldn't be able to get a good cheeseburger for two years, something inside me died. Slowly, I've found myself enjoying what I can get here more and more. Except for my food-nemesis, dagaa, those little silver death traps. But in general, I enjoy the rice and beans, the flavorless lumps of ugali, the mashed and boiled bananas, the Irish or sweet potatoes. Wait a minute, what's this? Every prevalent food in this country happens to be on a list that would give our old friend Mr. Atkins conniptions. It is simply impossible to not eat extremely starchy, carbohydrate-ridden foods. Before I left, people would joke about how many of my ribs would be visible by the time I came back, or other innuendos about my potential emaciation. Contrary to popular opinion, food has always been readily available here. So much so, in fact, that I began to "thicken" in certain areas. Yes, Africa was making me fat. Honestly, you all should see how much the typical Haya (the local tribe) eats in a sitting; it's phenomenal. Tanzanians enjoy having these giant group parties for anything important in their lives, such as to celebrate an engagement, a marriage, a graduation, and so on. I guess its not too different from our own customs, except at every party, the hosts provide a Tanzanian buffet. All those foods I mentioned above, in spades. It is awestriking to see the people on either side of you piling their plates to the point that the different foods are no longer discernible; they build giant food haystacks. So I guess this jovial eating spirit must've overtaken me, and caused the partial demise of my flat belly.

When I first noticed, it inspired me to get back into the classic exercise regime. You know- run three times a week, do pull-ups, sit-ups, push-ups, etc... My biggest quandary was where and when to go running. I've mentioned in the past that I tend to attract a lot of attention wherever I go, just because white people are relatively rare around here, especially tall ones that speak Swahili. I get this attention even when I am doing something normal, such as walking to town, or doing yard work. Once, and only once, I went running on the main road near my house. It was pretty awful... If there's one thing I don't want when I am all sweaty and out of breath, its to have every person I pass stare at me and ask me what I'm doing. Also, Tanzanians don't understand why my face turns bright red like a tomato, they think I'm having health problems. (This is also true of sunburns...). In every other direction from my house, there are steep hills, which I don't feel confident in tackling under this equatorial sun. My solution was to make laps around the football field in front of my house, in the evening when few people are around and the sun is blazing minimally. This worked really well for the first few days, and I got to the point where I could run and let my mind wander, instead of focusing on how much pain I was in. I had some of my neighbors, and especially their children, that would sit outside and watch me for a a little while, but since these people are my friends, I didn't mind.

What happened to my routine is pretty awesome, actually. Word must have spread, and every day more and more little kids from around the area began showing up, to watch the mzungu do his exercise. At first, they sat in one place, and cheered every time I passed them. It was cute, and a little bit inspiring. Then one day, one little fellow decided to try to run with me. He kept up for about 4 laps, so maybe 1600 meters or so (Davis- 1 mile). I was way impressed! Since that day, every day I run, all the kids that are around have a little contest to see who can keep up with Masanja (now that they know me, I'm not "the mzungu" anymore) for the longest. Yesterday, there must've been about 10 or 15 running all around me, laughing and clapping. The other teachers chuckle and ask me why all the children are chasing me. When we finish, I teach them little exercises like doing pull-ups on the football goals. I have to admit, its a big bright spot on my day. There's one kid who stuck with me for about ten laps once. After a while I was worried he was going to outlast me..! Anyway, since I've been on break, this interaction has kept me happily occupied. I've even trimmed off the unwelcome excess on my stomach. Stupid Tanzanian carbohydrate food! And yet, I can't wait to get back to the States and eat burgers, pizza, and lasanga.

2 Comments:

  • At 10/18/2006 11:32 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Hey, Brodonkulous

    I was wondering what it's like to take a hiatus from our culture. Are you replacing vids and movies etc with Tanzaniain dance-fighting? How's the community there, do you feel accepted as part of a larger whole, or more ostracised? I'm curious if you've made social sacrifices, and how it feels to be trapped in a place where you can't just go to the market an get some gold-bond.

    It's one thing to be Dr. Loner Alone Lono Lone-Wolf in a place that you understand and can appreciate the solitude, but I wonder how it is when you can't tell if you're alone by choice or stigma. Also - inquiring minds wish to know if the kick-slap is now... international.

     
  • At 10/22/2006 1:51 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Is there a potential Filbert Bayi in the mob? Why does only Kenya produce the great distance runners anymore?

     

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