Kuuliza si ujinga

Mshamba is the Tanzanian word for a country hick. An mshamba is the kind of person who gazes in awe at a shower and has never used a computer.

I think I've become an mshamba.

Admittedly, I have used a computer. And while I'm pleased to be taking showers instead of bucket baths in Dar, I'm not at the gazing-in-awe stage yet. That said, here's proof of my transformation into an mshamba:

1) Instead of buying food for the trip from my village to Moshi, I brought three cobs of boiled corn wrapped in paper bags. One cob came from my garden; two from my neighbors garden. Both were given to me by a neighbor who was concerned I'd be hungry in Moshi, and was insistent that I had to take two corn cobs from her, one could never be enough. I pulled out these corn cobs to snack on in Moshi (one fellow volunteer: "You can buy cookies out the bus window, you know.").

2) There's a ceiling fan? A light switch? Oh . . . I should probably stop sitting here in the heat and dark. (I've gotten better about remembering the light switches since I've been visiting my sitemate, but I definitely forgot about the fan).

3) A thought that popped into my head: there are a lot of cars in Dar!

I have the feeling that my transformation to an mshamba has only begun. Actually, I think it's fate (maybe that's why I've always liked country music?). But that's okay, I'm at peace with my fate: I like boiled corn, prefer my tranquil cornfields to the hassle of cars and crowds, and would choose the occasionally annoying knocks of neighbors and acquaintances at my door over the anonymity over the city any day. Though I'll admit, I may be alone in this: I've met a lot of young rural Tanzanians who want to go live in Arusha or Dar es Salaam. As they say, the grass is always greener on the other site of the rural/urban divide.