In Which I Decide a Decision

I am taking the plunge and moving to Mbeya.  Pending approval of my Peace Corps overlords who, should they refuse me, will cause me to embark upon great sulking, but as I have current approval barring unforeseen complications and they are now calling official type people and talking about getting a new work permit for me, I do not expect to embark upon sulking but rather to move sometime in early October.

I visited Mbeya last week to meet with the counterpart of our fabulous TJ, a man named Edwin who is the fastest walking Tanzanian I have ever encountered and I love him for it.  In addition to providing a balm for my chronic sidewalk rage in this country he showed me around campus, and on hearing that I have a master's degree his response was "oh, could you teach programming?"

Yes!  Absolutely yes!  Compare this to the teacher's college, who received the news of my higher education with a list of things they wished me to fix, and this may explain why I was immediately sold on the Mbeya job. And Edwin went out of his way to explain that unlike at a teacher's college, the teachers at the Mbeya Institute of Science and Technology cannot always be found on campus.  They are present for their classes and any work they need to do only and are under no compulsion to engage in the soul-crushing activity of sitting in an office with nothing to do.  The head of the computer department at MIST is a woman who likes to promote women in technology, so I have visions of a little Ada Lovelace Day celebration dancing in my head.  According to TJ, the students are generally motivated and interested, and so will probably not start whining that I only teach them how to actually do stuff and don't spend enough time teaching theoretically.  (I was a little upset by that.)

Mbeya town is a step down in luxury from Morogoro, but still luxurious enough.   I rode buses randomly about town, did a little shopping, a little exploring, a little eating of western food, and received a marriage proposal.  It's nice enough.  As far as living conditions go, I will still be the spoiled ICT volunteer a little way from town on a campus that I don't really need to leave because there are markets and shops and bars close by.  Also, I will be in an apartment on a fourth floor.  I have a balcony where I can sit and read and drink coffee unplagued by children and amorous young men!  More importantly there is an abandoned and climbable crane on which I can rig my silks.   

The view from my future balcony.   A step down from my scenery, but nice enough.
Try to look at the mountains more than the garbage.

The mountains aren't as pretty as the Ulugurus, though I've
been told they get greener when the rains come.

Climbable crane for silks.

unidentifiable thing on campus 

Furthermore, the apartment comes with an oven, a fridge, a washing machine and electricity that I don't have to pay for!  Chickpeas are easily available in Mbeya, there is a fridge, I can learn to make hummus!

So the washing machine leaks like a sieve, so what?  No other PCV has one!
I'd rather clean the floor than my clothes anyway. 

I will rather regret leaving the agricultural university to their own devices in working out the logistics of the $4 million grant I helped them get, but I will leave them with a volunteer request application and I've persuaded USAID to help me pressure my Peace Corps overlords into creating a response volunteer position to work with that university because I think they could benefit from a volunteer, I found it a fun place to work, and the USAID folk would be a lot happier to have a volunteer on the ground who could go to Dar to meet with them.  Also, I'm reasonably certain that is really needed having just gotten back from a meeting with USAID at the embassy* where I had to explain to folk who've never taught in Tanzania that curtains and chairs are not padding the budget.  Dust is a huge problem in computer labs here, but unless there is really good ventilation in the building you cannot close the windows due to heat.  Curtains help.  The McDonald's type chairs attached to tables are because whenever there is an event or unexpectedly large class, teachers send students to take chairs wherever they can be found, so you get to your class and have to send your students to steal chairs back, and a lot of time can be wasted in this sort of musical chairs.  

*It was weird to be on American soil, particularly since the Americans there react to news that their on-embassy restaurant is closed with "oh well, we should probably lose weight anyway."  Americans are weird.   And too busy assuming all people are obsessed with weight to go to the trouble of leaving the embassy to feed the food-obsessed volunteer who missed her free Peace Corps meal (I was at a training conference) that day specifically in order to come to the embassy.   And half the people there are RPCVs!  They should understand!