Mohammad’s Glimpse into the Life of Tanzanian Orphans Infected with HIV/AIDS

The following is a guest post by Mohammad Zia who traveled to Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania in January 2011 and  lived/volunteered with Muslim orphans who were infected with HIV. If you would like to share your story about volunteering in a Muslim-majority country or region on the AUA Volunteer Voices blog, please contact charlotteh@creativelearning.org.

In about thirty hours, I will be landing in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania. This trip will be my first independent, international travel experience. A suitcase full of donations, a carry-on, and an open mind will be accompanying me on this trip. With so much travel time at my disposal, I will get a fruitful opportunity to collect my thoughts and to reflect on my purpose for traveling to Tanzania. During finals week, I was busy with exams and for the last ten days I have been busy packing and planning the technical details of my trip. With the worries of college life behind me, I am eager to begin my journey. My current state of mind is like a dry canvas, waiting to get drenched by the colorful culture, lifestyles, and experiences of the Tanzanian people.

I am eager to learn more about myself and to discover things that will incite me to think about the world around me. The following quote sheds light on my expectations of this independent volunteer abroad experience. “You never know how someone else’s life is like until you take steps in someone else’s shoes.” I am ready and willing to put on a pair of kiatus (Swahili for shoes) so I can get a glimpse of what life is like in Tanzania.

I am excited to work in Dar Es Salaam which is a majority Muslim city that has a rich history. Prior to traveling, I have studied the culture and social setup of Tanzania and there are many social issues that are plaguing Tanzanian society. HIV/AIDs (the leading cause of death in Sub Saharan Africa) and malaria are salient problems that are incessantly affecting people in the developing world. Sadly, the situation continues to deteriorate.

Often times, women and children are the ones who bare the negative impacts of living in an underprivileged nation. I hope to learn about these struggles during my trip to Tanzania. Sitting here in a beautiful airport in one of the most developed countries in the world, all I can do is close my eyes. Close my eyes and imagine. Imagine living in a world without clean water, adequate nutrition, or basic education. I can only imagine. Imagine how it must feel like to witness my friends and family members dying from easily preventable ailments. I can only imagine being an orphan in a developing nation that lacks many basic social safety nets. In a world without amenities, an orphan also doesn’t have access to arguably the most important aspect of a decent childhood-Love. Love often fills the void left by a lack of basic needs in impoverished families. Without basic needs. Without a family. With HIV. Orphans who are victims of HIV in Tanzania are suffering each and every day with a disease that they cannot control. In about twenty-nine hours, this imaginary scenario in my mind will become an everyday reality.

I will be living with a group of young orphans in an urban slum in Dar Es Salaam. I am not afraid of living in poverty because I have been exposed to life in the developing world before. I lived in Pakistan for two months and I saw, firsthand, how poverty affects daily life. I am, however, afraid that I will not be able to connect with the children. The orphans have suffered a lot in their lives and they might not feel comfortable speaking about their life experiences. Also, I am an American and I am unsure of how I will be approached by the Tanzanians based on my nationality. Consequently, I have to work hard to build a strong relationship with the children. This first hand experience of connecting with the children and immersing myself in Tanzanian society will definitely change the way I think about the developing world. I hope that this trip has a profound impact on me as an individual. I hope this trip helps think more critically about global issues.

Tune in on Wednesday to read about Mohammad’s arrival in Tanzania and his initial impressions of the city and people.

Hope is Everywhere

The following is a guest blog from AUA Mosaic Scholarship recipient Lindsay Michael. She is currently volunteering with Project Hope in the Palestinian Territories. To find an opportunity like this one, search the AUA Directory of Recommended Organizations©.

You won’t be searching very far to find the spirit of hope in Nablus.  It seems to be in the dreams and actions – in the collective breath of the city. That spirit is here in everything from grandfathers passing on the secrets of Arabic spices to their grandchildren – to the passionate chants of young revolutionary leaders taking advantage of the citywide celebration of the U.N. bid for Palestinian statehood – to the children within the confines of outdoor playgrounds, whose boundaries are “adorned” in barbed wire fencing.  These are my students, the embodiment of hope.

I am fortunate to have five very different classes.  I teach art and English to students ranging in age from eight to seventy-three – and ranging from college professors, pre-teens and teens at an after-school facility, women’s center and refugee camp, and a single mother.

Aside from the classes I’ve been given by Project Hope, I spend a few hours a week working with a group of young artists in Askar.

I recognize my responsibility to provide those with whom I encounter with a different perspective of people in America.  As a teacher, no matter the subject, one of my main goals is to see my students succeed. In turn, they share a desire for me to succeed in experiencing all that Palestine has to offer.  Since it is all but impossible for the majority of my students to travel within the West Bank, let alone outside, they want me to succeed in sharing my experiences of Nablus. It is a bittersweet concept.

I am not just an observer.  My students have taken me by the hand to share their world:  a partially destroyed castle in the Old City; a family-owned orchard of figs, pomegranates, almonds, apricots, lemons and olives; and a charming café where the poems of Samih al-Qasim and Mahmoud Darwish are often recited, and the beloved Egyptian legend, Oum Kalthoum, once sang – all immense sources of Palestinian pride and identity.  My students are acutely aware of their rich and colorful surroundings and take great joy in sharing it with others.

Getting to know the people of Nablus is as important to me as providing an opportunity for students to learn and practice English with a native speaker.  An emphasis on building ties between community members and volunteers is one of my most favorite things about working with an organization like Project Hope.  They go out of their way to ensure that everyone involved benefits from their experiences working together.  Their pledge to foster a partnership between the local and international volunteers is paramount, and this spirit extends into the community.  I wholeheartedly believe that the friendships and connections we are building, while enjoying all that Nablus has to offer and working together as volunteers, will continue to evolve long after I return to America.

The Decision: Why Teach in Lebanon?

The following is a post from AUA Network member and guest blogger Kyle Scott Herman who is teaching History in Lebanon.

I have a long-term career objective of influencing and representing America’s foreign policy, perhaps by joining the U.S. Foreign Service as a diplomat.  My goal is to be in a position where I can help make progress on some of the inter-related challenges that are facing our global community – including security, development, and sustainability.  However, international relations is a difficult field to break into.  A graduate degree and international professional experience are necessary for most jobs.

So in April, while I was agonizing over whether to go straight to grad school or to gain professional experience first, I decided to look at international job listings.  I focused on the Middle East because of its diverse and fascinating cultures, the opportunity to learn Arabic through immersion, and my interest in U.S.-Muslim world relations. Misunderstandings between Americans and citizens of Muslim-majority countries are among the worst in the world.  Yet mutual understanding and cooperation are vital to international stability - especially in light of the current wave of democratization we know as the “Arab Spring”.  A couple years working in the Middle East could give me valuable insight into perspectives and ways of life that America’s citizens and policy-makers desperately need to understand.  And on the grassroots level, I could make a real difference through people-to-people interactions as an unofficial American ambassador.

Lebanon is in the heart of the Middle East, a fascinating region most Americans don't understand. Yet building mutual understanding and cooperation are vital to global peace and prosperity.

On idealist.org, I found a job listing in Lebanon at an English-immersion school founded by Christians.  The teaching position was for 9th-11th grade history, geography, and civics.  This listing excited me because I could make a positive impact in the lives of young people by teaching subjects I am passionate about. There is no silver bullet that can solve the challenges of security, development, and sustainability, but education is one of the most promising tools we have.  I also felt called to this position because of the school’s values and the opportunities I would have to continue my faith journey.  I was even invited to replace my predecessor as faculty advisor to a student organization focused on faith and service – similar to groups I was involved in at Ohio Wesleyan.

I was ready to commit to two years of teaching when I was presented as the top candidate for a phone interview with the headmaster.  One of the questions I asked him was about the “athletics” team listed on the school’s outdated website.  His response: “Well, we have some students who can run but we don’t have anyone to coach them.”  So of course I volunteered!  That sealed the deal.

Last Supper at Smith: I’ll miss my OWU teammates dearly, but at least I can continue running with a new team – this time as the coach.

As though through divine providence, I was invited to continue many of the same endeavors that enriched my life so much at Ohio Wesleyan: learning about cultures and history, expressing my faith through fellowship and service, and running with a team.  But this continuity is also a transition toward maturity: the student becoming the teacher, the disciple becoming the mentor, the athlete becoming the coach.

Additional posts can be found on Kyle’s blog at:
http://kyle-scott-herman.blogspot.com/

The Student Becomes the Teacher

The following is a post from AUA Network member Kyle Scott Herman who is teaching History in Lebanon.

My classroom is typical by American standards, including a projector so that I can display power points and videos. The students expect visual stimulation.

My first day of school as a teacher was a half day so I only met 3 of my 5 classes, but it was intense.  First impressions are important and it’s weird to think that the perspectives 70 students have towards history, civics, and current events could be in my hands.

The one thing I was nervous about before I came to Lebanon had nothing to do with wars or social unrest or living in the Middle East; I was nervous about teaching.  Sure, I spent the summer trying to teach myself to teach, but I’ve never received any formal training or earned any teaching certificates that are usually required.  I would have been just as nervous if I was taking on the responsibility in the States.  Lebanon lacks standards that America and most other countries have to prevent inexperienced people like me from being hired. Before I came here, I saw a frontpage story on Lebanon’s main English news site that began: “A lack of guidelines and assessment regulations is leading Lebanese high schools to become saturated with under-qualified teachers…”  So yes, I am one of those villainous under-qualified teachers saturating a Lebanese high school. But I take it as a challenge to prove that I am capable.

I received a lot of helpful advice from the more experienced teachers.  Almost all of it regarded classroom management and the need to start the year as a strong and strict authoritarian.  This seemed to reinforce a feeling I sometimes had as a student that some teachers care more about wielding power than inspiring interest, which can make learning seem like a chore.  Now I understand that sometimes it is necessary to start strict because you can always lighten up later, but if you start the year too friendly and relaxed then you cannot become stricter later.  The principal’s philosophy is that you should always strive to be respected and never to be loved because if the students respect you they will end up loving you more because they will learn more than with a friendly teacher who is too accommodating.

The principal and many of the teachers have a rule that students must stand when they enter the classroom. So this morning after I greeted students at the door by handing them an assignment to begin, I walked to the front of the classroom and asked: “Do you stand when your other teachers enter the room?” Slightly panicked faces looked up from their assignments as the students awkwardly scrambled to their feet.  I paused for a few seconds, expressionless, as I scanned the room with my eyes. “You may be seated.”  In that moment, my nerves disappeared and I knew I was in control.

Some of the 34 students in my 10th grade class were talking instead of working on the assignment while I passed out name tags and answered questions, but I will have to be strict with them. They should get the message when I deduct points from the assignments they failed to complete because they didn’t care to use their time properly.  I probably would have been horrified by the previous sentence if I had seen it 5 years ago, and now I can’t believe I’m in the position where I feel it is justified.

I originally thought my 12th graders would be mixed in with my 11th graders since there are only 3 of them, but now I am teaching them separately and it will probably be my favorite class. Up until this year, the school only taught through 11th grade, but Lebanon’s education standards changed.  So now I get to teach them a completely new curriculum based on their needs and interests. We had a good discussion today, basically sitting around and talking about what topics might be fun to study.

Additional posts can be viewed on Kyle’s blog.

Curbing Disease and Discrimination in the Middle East

The following is a guest post from AUA Mosaic Scholarship recipient Andria Enns. Andria will be volunteering with United Planet in Jordan. To find an amazing opportunity like this one, search the AUA Directory of Recommended Organizations© today!

My mouse hovered over the “submit” button, and I didn’t know if I had the courage to click. I had been working hard for days on a grant proposal, asking the United Nations for $100,000 USD (about 71,000 Jordanian Dinars) to support growing an arts education program for teenagers throughout the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region. The amount would help the NGO reach nearly 16,000 teenagers. I had never written a grant before – let alone one worth so much money, and so competitive.

The NGO I’m working with, MENA Friends of the Global Fund, works to eliminate malaria, tuberculosis and HIV/AIDS in the region, as well as end discrimination against patients living with disease. One of the ways they do this is through arts education workshops. A visual artist and a health educator visit a high school in the region and talk about disease prevention, free and confidential ways to get tested, and ways to break the silence surrounding disease. These workshops are often the only education a youth in MENA gets about HIV/AIDS – and the educators are not allowed to talk about condoms, as it is believed that if youth know how to protect themselves, they will have sex.

The workshops open the floor for the youth to discuss their ideas. Usually, though, the biggest communications are in the art. They draw pictures of overcoming obstacles, living with disease, loneliness, and oftentimes pictures of things they’ve witnessed. Though the workshops do not mention contracting HIV/AIDS from drug use, many teens draw pictures of the people in their life using needles to inject drugs.

In a workshop, one teen drew a picture of someone with HIV/AIDS lesions using heroin.

Health in general is a taboo topic here. Any ailment at all is seen as shameful – even asthma or seasonal allergies. If you aren’t doing well, it’s expected that you will keep it to yourself. Talking about going to the doctor – even for a routine check-up – is done in whispers, as if you’re talking about something deeply humiliating. That’s why breaking the silence is so important. People are so afraid to get checked – because having tuberculosis or HIV/AIDS can result in eviction, being fired, and being divorced – that they’re dying in silence. (Tuberculosis is curable with a round of antibiotics, but people with HIV/AIDS are 30-times more likely to contract – and die from – it.)

If you attempt to talk to most Jordanians about HIV/AIDS, you are likely to get one of three responses: “We don’t have that here.” “HIV/AIDS is a conspiracy.” Or “Only immoral people – like homosexuals, adulterers and prostitutes – get HIV/AIDS so I don’t think it’s a problem we should try to solve.” I’ve heard all of these from Jordanians outside of the office.

That’s why it’s so important to reach teenagers. Teenagers still believe they can change the world, they can make a difference, and they can lead the revolution of values. And maybe reaching them will have real impact – they’ll talk about it amongst themselves and make different choices for their generation.

And the only way MENA Friends has figured out to reach them is through workshops in their schools. Workshops in very conservative, rural areas where HIV/AIDS is never talked about. Places where the community is in desperate need of disease education and prevention.

As I thought about all this, I knew I had to muster up the courage to click. It was deadline day for the proposal, but my supervisor was out sick. I asked the only manager on duty to look at it, and she said she didn’t know what she was looking for. Even if she did, her English isn’t so good. It was all on me.

With a deep breath and a stomach more twisted than when asking out a middle school crush, I clicked it. And it was done. All that’s left is to wait until June, when they announce where the grants are going. “Do you think we’ll get it?” my coworkers keep asking, daring to dream.

All I can answer is, “Insha’allah, God willing,” the Arab way of saying you dearly hope so.

About Andi:

Andi Enns is a student in the Degree with Honors Program at Park University, studying journalism and public relations. She is an AUA Mosaic Scholarship recipient on a service trip to Amman, Jordan for three weeks over her winter break, working with a public health organization and staying with a local family.