I’ve been home for a little over two weeks as of now and the thoughts, emotions, questions, laughs, excitement, wholeness and gratitude just overwhelms all that makes up my being.
  I often find myself feeling as if I just lived a dream.
As if I took one really long nap and then woke up in my bed.
Although, it feels like my time in Tanzania was a dream, it was a part of my existence that is joyously real.
On my flight from the States to Dar es Salaam, I watched a movie, “The Perks of Being a Wallflower.”
Near the conclusion of the movie, I vividly remember tearing up as I was filled with so much inspiration and excitement, love and openness about this journey I was physically in route to embark on.
One line in particular that caught me attention and forced my hand into writing for hours was, 
“To chart a journey into the unknown, a map is required yet the most unknown of journey’s is what we call life.”
My journey had not just begun on the flight that afternoon, my journey began decades ago, centuries ago, 
well lets face it, life times ago.
Okay, yes it did begin when I studied Africana Studies in college and began evermore so when I took a couple months to get all the components of my application together and even greater 
when my WorldTeach application status turned from applied to accepted.

Once accepted, there was no hesitance, no question, no second-guessing, no reservations.
This is what I was doing; this is where my life’s journey was going to take me.
Immediately, I began brainstorming on ways to fundraise, ways to actually pay to make this happen.
30 days notice into my landlord, mom and dad – I’m moving back home.
An Ashley Strong Photography art show fundraiser at my yoga studio, let’s do it.
Personal letters to friends and families for donations, I love to write and make connections so here we go.
My dear boss at PBS, “I’m going to Africa.”
“Okay, what do you want to do with your job here?”
“Well, you see, I want to come back to it, I love my job.”
“Okay, take a sabbatical.”
Well, even better. 

Before I knew it, everyday a new letter and check came in the mail.
An email was received, I had another donation through paypal or the WorldTeach website.
My community, this incredible community that exists around my existence humbled me.
The support, the willingness to give a little and in many cases A LOT towards another souls journey created a happiness that well, I just don’t have the words to explain.

And in this moment you are infinite.
I am infinite.
WE are infinite.
We are together.
We are a community.
We are a vision, the vision.
One never really knows how an experience is going to affect their life.
We can only image.
We can only wonder.
We can only predict.
We can only hope.

In reality, that which is meant to happen will happen.
All we can do is trust and listen.
Trust.
And listen.
Trust humanity.
Trust the universe.
Listen to the self.
Listen to that inner voice.

When applying for WorldTeach, I questioned my qualifications.  
I was applying for a teaching program and guess what, I’m not a teacher.
Yes, I have volunteer experience where I’ve tutored youth.
But to stand in front of a classroom, to have my own class – that’s just silly.
You know, now that I think of it…
For a semester in college, I changed my major to elementary education because I thought
 I wanted to be a second grade teacher.
After spending one week in an American second grade classroom, 
I realized one, I didn’t want to teach at a traditional American school 
and two, I didn’t want to be limited to teaching only at an elementary education level.
Despite my questioning, life continued on and I completed all necessary tasks to apply.
One task in particular included three essays, each containing multiple questions.  
What is your motivation for wanting to be a WorldTeach volunteer?
And what contributions do you hope to bring to the community?

Well, here it goes, this was my response.
I am drawn to spreading knowledge, authenticity and compassion by working with communities of the world.

More….
Okay.
I want a deeper intercultural understanding of humanity, unity and working together 
all the while teaching through my native English language.
Okay.
And.

I am a very reflective being always wanting and needing to give back to society, to humanity, to others.
Okay.
And.

I have a love for life, for humanity, for existence, for all people around me.
I am creative, positive, vibrant, full of life, patient, open to change and ready for new challenges.
I am intrigued by the power of humanity, energy, connections, influence and teaching.
I am extremely open with a willingness to teach, to learn, to accept, to give my heart and to share my passion.

Now were talking.
I hope you’re listening.
Because as they say in Tanzania, I’m being frank with you.

I put my heart out there.
I loved deeply.
I embraced the community, the life of that which existed on Mafia Island.
I put everything I had to my students at Kitomondo Secondary School.
Yes, there were challenges.
And absolutely yes, were there many aspects I could improve on.
I am human.
I experience.
I make mistakes.
I second-guess my nature.
Most importantly, I live.
I breathe.
I respect.
I understand.
I love.
Oh, do I love so deeply.
Tears fill my eyes out of mere excitement.
Out of confusion.
Out of joy.
Out of love.
Out of feeling lost.
I have never felt so torn.
A piece of my heart, a large piece of my heart now lives in Tanzania, even more so on Mafia Island.
I keep finding myself laughing or giggling in the presence of just myself.
At these moments, I get extremely vivid images of my family, community,
 teaching mates, pikipiki rides and so much more.
Ah, all I can do is smile.

I am so thankful.
So humbled.
Filled with so much gratitude!
When others ask about my experience, my trip, there is just too much to say.
What can I say? 
What makes this Mafia Island, Tanzania community so incredibly unique?
I will attempt to shed some light on it, but these are only words.
Only words.
Only words.

Complete acceptance.
You belong simply because you are human.
Compassion.
Open your home to others and they’ll open their hearts in return.
Trust.
The energy and trust you put out into this world radiates to all those present 

I left Mafia Island with a heavy heart. 
Within just days, I had to say goodbye to this community I'd spent the past couple months creating. 
The family I lived with became my family. 
My chiefs house became one of my favorite places to go and was always a guarantee for an extremely good laugh or for an "African Woman" session. 
My kids brought about a new kind of happiness I truly didn't know existed. 
Evening walks after my runs became some of the most meditative moments.
There were so many instances such as those just mentioned that really made my space on Mafia Island feel as if it were my "home." 
Despite the heavy heart, I had a new adventure ahead of me. 
This time to another island off the coast of Tanzania, Zanzibar! 

I had known very little about Zanzibar. 
Besides being told how esthetically beautiful it was and that they had one of the best Swahili schools around. 
Either way, my trip was booked. 
Patrick (one of the WorldTeach volunteers) and I were sharing a hotel space for the week. 
Coco Del Mar was the place. 
We go up early Sunday morning, took a taxi to the ferry, patiently waited and then before I knew it we are pulling up to the coastline of Zanzibar. 
Upon arrival, the first thing one sees is a large sign saying, "Karibu Zanzibar" which is welcome to Zanzibar. 
When getting off the boat, you have to quickly pick up your luggage and head straight to customs as you get bombarded with people wanting to carry your bags and escort you to their taxi. 
After going through customs, I man waited with a small paper sign with both mine and Patrick's name on it. 
We were driven to our hotel, which was just minutes away from where the ferry dropped us off. 
The Tanzania travel books had proven a success as our hotel was right in the middle of Stonestown. 
The first day there was spent wondering around town, barefoot, camera in hand. 
Exploring this incredible ancient city with stone buildings each way you turned. 
One of my favorite finds that afternoon was a local Ethiopian restaurant right at the edge of town. 
I have to admit, I started jumping up and down while shouting, "yessssss" when I saw this place. 
Ethiopian food, going to Ethiopian meals is one of my favorite ways to dine as it's a communal meal. 
All eat from the same large plate of food. 
Needless to say, we ate dinner at that Ethiopian restaurant that night. 
Oh yea, and two more nights that same week! 

Let the adventures begin. 
Monday morning we woke, ate such a good breakfast and got picked up in the pouring rain for our spice tour. 
The bus already had two young individuals in it from the hostel next door. 
We picked up several more people and then on our way up the island to explore their native spices. 
The afternoon was spent trying grapefruits right off the trees, learning that vanilla is a vine and comes from the orchid family, learning about local lipstick that the Maasai use from a plant, to getting leaf glasses and frog necklaces made out of plant leaves. 
We ate a local meal in a village just outside the spice fields, then onto a massive slave cave and the beach. 
The slave cave consisted of a giant hole underground with two tunnels, one on each side that lead to the ocean and the town. 
The spice tour commenced for the day. 
The van dropped everyone off and then back to my Zanzibar home.
Once back in my room, the rain had subsided and the sun was starting to peek out. 
I was hanging out my bedroom window and just below, I saw Halena (whom was staying at the hostel next door and went on the same spice tour earlier that day) and yelled down, "Do you want to go to dinner tonight?" 
She looked up with a smile and said, "I would love to!" 
I have to tell you, as Tanzanians say, "to be quite frank with you" going to dinner that night changed my entire Zanzibar experience. 
I had not only met a friend, I truly met a sister. 

The rest of the week felt like a dream. 
Tuesday we woke with the sun shinning so brightly, had breakfast, walked to the boat. 
This time the boat was taking us to prison island, which is a small island off the coast of Zanzibar that yes, once was a prison and is now a fancy hotel and tortiose sanctuary. 
After exploring this island, back in the boat and out to coral reefs to do some Indian Ocean snorkeling. 
I spent the afternoon swimming around with "little memo!"
Back in the boat to shore. 
An afternoon filled with more exploration, laughter, food and new friends. 
Wednesday we got an early start as we went down to the south side of the island, Kizimkazi. 
Swimming with the dolphins, literally swimming with the dolphins with all but a snorkel mask and fins on. 
I was just a few feet away from three dolphins gliding through the waters of the Indian Ocean. 
Talk about a thrill, what a rush. 
I had never been so close to these precious mammals.  
After swimming with the mammals, we went into the Jozani Forest to play with the monkeys! 
There were so many monkeys, just jumping about along the side of the road. 
Mama and baby's holding each other, families packed together. 
One sat right in front of me, just pulling leafs of the veins and stuffing them in his mouth. 
He was so close, I was able to touch him. 
In one day, swam with the dolphins and played with monkeys. 
Is that real? 
Can this be real? 
Or am I dreaming? 

Oh, it was real. 
So real. 
As the week went on, the moments became more dream like. 
Thursday was a day of reading Nelson Mandel's autobiography in a local cafe, taking pikipiki rides throughout the town, eating lunch at a far too fancy resort right outside Stonestown 
and dancing into the wee hours of the morning. 

And Friday. 
Friday was beyond surreal. 
I don't know how to properly sum it up, without writing forever. 
Here is goes. 
Got a personal driver. Mark, Jimmy and myself drove up to the top of the island. Picked up Halena and Wiki in Kendwa. Drove around the parameter of the island heading south. Stopped at the butterfly sanctuary, played with local butterflies. Stopped in Michamwi to get drinks for the road trip. Drove some more. Ended somewhere on the south side of the island at a reggae paradise. 
Watched old school Usher and Nelly jams on the t.v. inside the car. 
Stepping out of the car, "three little birds" by the great Robert Nesta Marley were the melodies first in the ears. 
We walked forward-- a full bar, tree house eating areas, white sanded beaches, reggae music,
 lots of rasta's with smiling faces. 
It was paradise. 
It was beyond paradise. 
We spent the afternoon drinking fancy cocktails, dancing to the presented melodies, eating chipis mayai, taking lots of pichas and of course, swimming in the sunset. 
The paradise didn't end there. 
After hours of driving, showers and roadside food stands… it was time for a night of dancing. 
I lost track of time that night and many nights for that matter, 
but before I knew it, it was almost four in the morning. 
Drenched in sweat from dancing to the point I couldn't dance anymore, 
it was time to go home and conclude that day. 

And then, 
if that wasn't epic enough, it was Saturday. 
A day to spend at Kendwa Rocks sun bathing, doing acrobatics and of course swimming in the Indian Ocean as the pink and orange sunset glistened overhead! 
As if we hadn't danced enough the night before, we were in for an even more exciting dancing adventure. 
The night started with traditional African drumming, dancing, acrobatics and then it did happen… a Michael Jackson performance followed by some phenomenal breakdancing. 
After those festivities concluded, it was time for the dance party to begin. 
There are not words for the dancing that took place that night. 
Some force took over my being and regardless of the amount of sweat my body produced, 
I could not stop dancing. 
Before I knew it, it was time to leave and this time even more so drenched in sweat, I looked as if I had just jumped in the ocean. 
What an epic night, what an epic day, what an epic week!

Zanzibar was an experience of a lifetime. 
The happiness and complete euphoria I felt that week was one like I had never felt before. 
We truly had a Zanzibar family - Halena from Sweden, Wiki from the Netherlands, Jimmy from Zanzibar, Mark from Tanzania and a citizen of Japan and myself from America. 
The week was spent in the presence of these individuals, each sharing and adding their experiences to that which we were experiencing at the moment. 
If it wasn't hard enough leaving Mafia Island, it became even harder leaving Zanzibar on top of it. 
At this moment, I am able to look down at my hands and feet that are covered in Henna and remember the sacred moments of this week. 
As always, I am truly so blessed and so thankful! 

About a week before leaving Kitomondo, I sat on the concrete floor of my Tanzanian home. 
 A freshly popped bowl of popcorn sat in my lap, my water bottle to the right. 
 To the left of me, the backdoor was open.  
Looking out, I saw MamaRay de-feathering a kuku (chicken), just moments earlier chased into the chicken coup, strangled and de-headed.  
"Ashley, Ashley, karibu, karibu" she said. 
I finished what I could of my popcorn, poured the rest back into the community bowl, 
walked to the opening of the backdoor and watched. 
For the next twenty minutes, I watched in absolute ignorance and wonderment as she cut, tore and broke each portion of the chicken.  
"MamaRay, was that his heart?" I said.
"No, not yet." she replied. 
It got a little too intense, so I stood up. 
"Asante sana MamaRay, asante sana." 
"Ashley, wait, the heart, the heart, almost." she replied.  
I sat back down and watched for many moments longer. 
The heart came, the eggs of the pregnant chicken were revealed, the intestines were stretched, the stomach got cut open and then the skin was pilled. 
"They eat a lot of sand!" she said to me as she poured out the contents of the stomach. 
Time to rinse the portions of the kuku off and then into a pan of hot water over a large charcoal fire. 
I looked at MamaRay, smiled, giggled, said "asante sana!" and went into my bedroom. 
For the first time in this existence, I was quite frankly mesmerized 
by the reality of a chicken becoming someone's dinner. 
Just an hour earlier, this chicken was a pet and now he is protein, a meal, multiple meals for this family. 
It wasn't just the chicken keeping my deep attention. 
It was the realization of my experience living in a local Tanzanian families home. 
Living in a community so different, so incredible new from that of my own. 
The kuku becoming dinner was just one moment. 
Of one evening. 
Of one day. 
Of one week. 
Of one month in Kitomondo on Mafia Island. 

I have been so incredibly humbled and blessed to spend the past 59 days living and teaching on Mafia Island. 
A dream in which I've had for as long as I can remember. 
A dream in which quickly came. 
And now, a dream being concluded. 
My dream, this dream. 
Teaching in Africa. 
Being a part of the motherland. 
Although my physical existence on Mafia Island is now no longer, 
the love, hope, strength and inspiration in my heart is part of my being. 
It is now me. 
An addition to me. 
This so called me. 

So many moments I sit in amazement and reflection. 
In wonderment and absolute confusion. 
Complete satisfaction and emptiness. 
Strength and an embarrassing weakness. 
Comments...
Opinions… 
Questions... 
Expressions...
You're too positive.  
You're an African woman in training. 
You're beautiful. 
You look tired. 
Why don't you eat meat? 
Do you miss your family? 
How do I say this in English? 
What do you do back at home? 
Madam Ashley. 
Mazoongo. 
You are my best friend. 
You make me smile. 
"Take me with you, take me to America."
Karibu. 
Asante sana. 
Can you stay? 

And on and on and on. 

It is all a learning experience. 
Learning of the self. 
Of families. 
Of communities. 
Of societies. 
Of governments. 
Of countries. 
Of continents. 
Of love. 
Of the world. 
Of those in which share all these moments with you. 
Back to the self. 
Of the self. 
 With the self. 

The past week on Mafia Island was spent living in Magamani, that which consists of fancy camping. 
Mangrove, bamboo covered rooms, comfy boat beds and mosquito nets for protection. 
There the ocean was just a hop away.
Food was on the table when I woke. 
And the other members of the environment were all very welcoming and willing to share their
 sea life research and experiments. 
I sat in hammocks and read while birds mated above. 
Monkeys jumped about in the trees. 
And waves crashed just below a sandy set of stairs. 

We had an exhausting yet tear dropping send off celebration with the Mafia Island teaching community. 
Speeches from those running the program - the head of police, district commissioner and all those in-between. 
I jumped with excitement as I turned around and saw MamaDixon. 
A very close friend of mine, someone in which I shared complete reciprocation of caring for and being cared for while on the island. 
It was a night of being awarded gifts of gratitude, speeches, chakula (food), drinking, dancing 
and an abundance of laughter. 
Many moments that night I stepped back and took a deep breath. 
As yet again, I was is wonderment at the reality of this being my new community, my new family! 
People in which I have shared a life long dream. 

My last night on the island was far to surreal. 
One in which no photos, no video, no explanation could really do justice. 
A tree house on an African Island overlooking the Indian Ocean. 
With birds whistling everywhere you walk. 
Crabs roaming along the sand paths. 
Gourmet food on the tables. 
Freshly opened bottle of wine on the evening balcony. 
Moments in which will not leave my heart. 
Sadly, I had to say kwa heri (good bye). 
But, just for now. 
Tutonana Mafia Island, Tutonana Mafia Island. 
We will see each other again soon.

I sit now in a cafe in Dar es Salaam. 
People of all nationalities, all cultures roam about on the streets. 
In just a matter of hours, I will be leaving the motherland on a ferry to an island within the Indian Ocean. 
Going to Zanzibar and exploring that of this supposed culturally and esthetically diverse island. 
For now, here you are. 
For now, this is what exists. 

As always, sending lots of love and positive blessings. 
Below are just a couple photos of my last moments on Mafia Island. 

Every moment, every day, every week is filled with so much new information, unexplored adventures
 and many many captivating moments. 
Of course, moments of this week feel amongst those qualifications. 
After being on the island for over a month now, 
there are still unchartered areas in which my eyes have yet to wonder. 
Tuesday afternoon, I ventured down into Utende which is on the southeast side of Mafia Island. 
A pikipiki speedily brought me there as it's about 11 km away from my home. 
At times, the roads seem as if they're endless. 
Leading further and further into the forest that accompanies all in which inhabits this island. 
Each turn still makes me more giddy than the last. 
As these are the moments more so than others that I find myself with a face wide smile because
 yes, this is where I am living, this is my "commute." 
Utende is a beautiful tucked away village that in the past few years has become a tourist destination where those certified or looking to be certified divers pay far too much money to stay in resorts 
within the Mafia Island Marine Park.
Once entering the Marine Park gates, one immediately understands why. 
There is a tiny village amongst the roads of the Marine Park, to the right and left sides you see mangrove homes, roadside stores and restaurants, children playing under trees. 
Life does not change in Utende just because there are an abundance of tourists, it's just more of an opportunity for the young African youth to see a diversity of nationalities and ethnicities. 
Once I got into Utende, my mouth literally dropped as I arrived as the bright daylight was turning
 into a golden evening light. 
I walked onto the sand, took off my shoes and with each step dug my toes down as far as they can go 
as I was in complete awe at that in front of me. 
It literally was beyond anything I've seen. 
The photographs in the Tanzania travel books did not do this place any justice. 
White beaches, covered swinging cots to lay out, wooden boats (ferries) of people wearing bright colors being escorted to and from the coastlines, palm trees swaying with the breeze, boats with the Tanzanian flag waving proudly about, water changing from turquoise to bright blue depending on the depths below all the while the sun was shinning so perfectly with its evening golden light. 
I was picked up by a boat of new friends, all but one I had just met. 
We ventured across the waters to an even smaller island called Chole Island where I spent the evening celebrating the existence of a new friend, sharing everything from understandings to philosophies to random ideas with another and purely enjoying the company right in front on me. 
In all honestly, for the first time in awhile, I felt like I was amongst people that understood me 
without having to use too many words. 
The evening ended with singing happy birthday, eating Tanzanian homemade birthday cake, taking the boat back across the waters in the black of night and spending a bajij ride home discussing the power of photography and videography. 

And the Utende and Chole Island moments continue…. 

A few days later, back down to Utende for an afternoon in the Tanzanian sun.
Snorkeling along the coastline, afternoon bea and tangawizi, acro yoga, boat rides, music, 
more boat and pikipiki rides. 

And the Utende and Chole Island moments continue…. 

I woke up early Saturday morning, had breakfast with two of my teaching mates. 
About an hour later, we met up with all the international and local volunteers and several local teachers. 
Back down to Utende. 
This time, taking a local wooden boat filled with teachers both local and from afar over to Chole Island. 
We all got out and explored the delightfully quaint island where we walked about seeing dozens of bats sleeping in trees, forestry for days, children playing in their front yards excited to see visitors, talking to local shop owners and having our teachers literally hug a tree to see how old it was! 
Back in the boat. 
This time we ventured to a very small island in the middle of the Indian Ocean 
as the tide was low enough to have such structure. 
The boat anchored, a small white shaded cover was constructed and a picnic lunch was served. 
Sitting in the white sand, looking out at the crystal blue and turquoise waters, I was in complete awe. 
Complete awe. 
And in the boat we go. 
This time heading even further into the depths of the Indian Ocean arriving at a large coral rock structure. 
We anchored and spent several hours snorkeling, swimming, laughing 
and simply enjoying being in the womb of mother nature. 
The bright colors of the day began to shift into the golden colors of the evening and our wooden boat headed back to the Utende shoreline. 
Simple as that. 
Absolutely incredible as that described above and the photographs below. 

I am in love. 
Love with all that exists. 
Love with life. 
Love with this island. 
Love. 
So much love. 

"Singing don't worry about a thing, cause every little thing is going to be all right… don't worry about a thing cause every little is gonna be alight!" 

In all honesty, I woke Sunday morning with melancholy consuming my mind, body and spirit. 
 All that I could feel. 
Upon waking, my body drenched in sweat, my sheets as if they had just been washed. 
A morning routine, bucket showering, getting dressed, pulling back my hair and adventuring out for the day. 
I did this all as I usually do, but something was missing, something just didn't seem right. 
Solo, I walked up to hill to Kilindoni from Harbor View Hotel where the Mafia Island teaching team stayed the entire weekend. 
One half of the group was on a boat exploring the Indian Ocean for whale sharks, the largest fish in the sea. 
While the remaining four did their own things. 
Got to the top of the hill, opened my book.
The Road of Lost Innocence. Somaly Mam. 
What a great honor to have met this woman several months back and documented her speaking event in Pasadena, California.
Her words are painful. 
Her words are so vivid. 
So powerful.
With each line, I feel her pain. I breathe her pain. I clenched my book a little tighter as each page describes
 rape upon rape upon beating upon beating. 
This was her life, her youth, her reality. 
Oh, how I just want to hold her. 
I sat outside the internet cafe intrigued by Somaly's story awaiting the doors to open. 
It was then breakfast time, melancholy still filled my body and even more so, 
my mind was stuck of the idea of rape. 
This idea of her reality. 
I got lost walking back to the hotel and found myself protected by the forest of Mafia Island. 
A tiny creature amongst all the forest, all the greenery. 
I walked a bit further as I knew I had made a wrong turn, but I was just too intrigued to go back. 
Eventually, I turned around. 
And went back to where I needed to be going. 
Breakfast was had and back up to town it was. 
Back to the internet cafe to handle some business. 
The power of the internet. 
I logged into Facebook and the first thing I saw was a photo of dear Kima Lou and myself back in the 6th grade. 
The 6th grade. 
Oh the years of memories. The happiness that filled my body and of course the tears that filled my eyes. 
The melancholy had subsided and a sense of comfort filled my being. 
How incredibly blessed I am to have the uniquely divine souls in my life! 
There is nothing to worry about. 
Nothing at all. 
Every little thing will always be all right. 

I spent this past weekend with my fellow international and local volunteers alongside the local teachers discussing the in's and out's of the six week intensive English course we are teaching in secondary schools throughout Mafia Island. 
What works?  What doesn't work? What needs improvement? Are we teaching what we're supposed to be teaching? How much longer should volunteers be here? What needs to continue for this program to successfully expand and impact the community? Who does this program ultimately belong to? And on and on.
These were some of the most effectively constructive conversations. 
So many new ideas, way to solves situations in which aren't fully working. 
Brainstorming on how to make this program that much better in the years to come. 
The program is on its third year here on Mafia Island and on its first for the Kilwa district on mainland Tanzania. 
The statistics are startling.  
The effectiveness of this program is beyond belief. 
The year prior to the launch of this program(2010), out of 135 Form I students, 
only 9 students passed their English exams. 
That is only 9 students out of 135 students. 
Just a little over 6% of the students pass their exams. SIX PERCENT. 
The year after this program was implemented, out of 145 From I students, 
103 passed their English exams with only 42 students failing. 
103 out of 145 students passed their exams after the implementation of this program. 
The numbers jumped from 6% to just over 71%. 
After six weeks of an intensive English course from native English speakers along with local Tanzanian teachers fluent in English, look at the results.
Look at the difference this program is making. 
Our program sparks a newfound self confidence in these young minds. 
In brings about a whole diversity in culture to these rural island communities. 
Although we are only here for six weeks teaching the English course, studies have shown that once you get a language platform, that platform stays with you. 
The English knowledge we teach, sticks with them, it may not always be used, but it does not disappear!  
If those numbers aren't inspiration in itself, I don't know what is. 
I walked away from the Friday evening and Saturday morning meetings with a whole new perspective, a whole new feel and understanding of this program. 
Anne, known as MamaChole on the island has implemented something extremely drastic, something that is honestly changing the structure and effectiveness of the education system on Mafia Island. 
It is the goal to have this program expand all throughout Tanzania. 
And I know, one day in the very near future, it will be. 
It will be in the hands of the schools themselves. 
The possibilities are endless. 
The inspiration at it's finest. 
And hope beyond imaginable. 
Thanks to the dedicated government officials, heads of school, local teachers, local volunteers, international volunteers, donors and so many people in-between, Mafia Island is witnessing something so new, a drastic shift in the education of their environment, in their country. 
Again, the power of community and what they can accomplish when working tougher towards a common goal, towards improvement for their community. 

Purely exhausted from my weekend discussing all topics just mentioned, after our Sunday lunch, Seif, Patrick and myself anxiously jumped into the government truck. 
We pulled up to my school, I jumped out of the bed of the truck, put on my backpack and turned around. 
As I turned around, I hear "Ashley, Ashley" with two of the neighborhood boys running towards me 
with their arms open ready for a big hug. 
 I picked up one, squeeze him tightly. 
Put him down and then did the same for the next. 
Seif and I then walked to MamaDixon's house where everyone was cheering "Ashley, Ashley, Seif, Seif" 
and they ran up giving us HUGE hugs again and again. 
This is my new family. 
This is my new home. 
This is my new community. 
I missed my "home" and "Tanzanian family" dearly this past weekend. 
This is beyond amazing. 
My family has grown. 
My community has grown. 
Oh, how my world has expanded. 

Below are some of my favorite photos from this weekends adventures! 
Photos are a combination of where I stayed this weekend -- the water tower outside my room. 
Then photos from our Saturday meeting and all the other volunteers and local teachers. 
The final photos are from the beach Saturday afternoon! 
As always please enjoy these images and receive all the love I am sending along with each and every one! 

Bweni Bound. 
Last Saturday, we were Bweni Bound. 
Be ready at 8am, a car will pick you up. 
TIA. TIA. TIA. 
This is Africa. 
This is Africa. 
This is Africa. 
The car arrives a little after 11am. 
We pack in -- international volunteers, local volunteers, local teachers and 
members of the Mafia Island Steering Committee. 
Thirteen packed into an SUV. 
We're picnicking in Bweni. 
Here we go. 
Mecheni, Kitomondo, Kilindoni, Beleni, Kirwangee. 
Another car being filled with all those in-between.
I'm pinched on the edge of a seat and a body with my legs startling my backpack. 
Just enough room to have my head slightly out of the window and my camera around my neck. 
Two hours down a windy, bumpy dirt road. 
Small village after small village. 
Smiling face after curious face after youth screaming "good-bye!" 
It's time, jump out of the LandRover. 
Onto the white sanded beach with the tide so low boats are land strapped with no way of getting out of their current spots until the sun begins to set and the tide begins to get high again. 
Seashells line the coastline. 
Large conch like shells. 
Crabs living in colorful swhirley ones. 
Spider like starfish living in large sand filled abandoned clam shells. 
Sand crabs scurry about as they come out of their holes. 
Small eyes in the distance looking to those laughing and 
collecting seashells along the edge of the receding waters. 
One youth in particular laying stomach down on the bow of a land strapped boat
 with his eyes so deep of curiosity. 
I turn to him and say "Samahani ninaomba nicupege picha! (Excuse me, I beg of you to take your picture)" 
He looks at me, smiles and says, "indigo! (yes!)"
I excitedly take his photo and when finished walk to show him the image on my small camera screen. 
His eyes get wide with excitement. 
I look over and two other young boys are staring and ask why I'm doing. 
I walk over. 
Show them. 
And again say the four magic words, "Samahani ninaomba nicupege picha." 
Again, I get an excited "ndiyo" 
I take theirs. 
This time with the two of them laying over the edge of the boat. 
I turn, show them their image and smile. 
Lots of asante sana's (thank you very much) and laughs were exchanged. 
I walk away with a huge smile on my face as I knew I just took two of my favorite pictures since being on the island. 
We gather our shells, walk up to the LandRover and onward we go for Bweni Bound. 
Again, a familiar but new sight. 
Forest lined dirt roads with nothing but more trees and huts in sight for miles. 
These forest entertain those of monkeys as this is their home! 
We stop. 
The only lighthouse on the island. 
Brought here by the British in the 1800's. 
The door in unlocked, we sign the guest book. 
Ten by ten and some we go up to the very top of the lighthouse. 
There are twenty three of us in total. 
Up the dozens of narrow flights of stairs. 
Out a three foot red door. 
Onto a rigged old circular platform enabling those that venture here 
an opportunity to see the entire tip of Mafia Island. 
Acres and acres of rainforest to both the left and right. 
The Indian Ocean just beyond the greenery. 
Mangrove huts amongst those palm trees. 
Schools, communities, farms and small shops tucked even deeper into the depths of the Mafia Island forest. 
I am ecstatic. 
I am living a LIFE documentary. 
Only, this one is NOT narriated by Opera, this one is narriated by Ashley Strong. 
This one is documented through the lens of Ashley Strong Photography. 
I am in an environment which I knew existed, but only in my dreams. 
Only on a television screen. 
Backdown the narrow staircase. 
Onto the seaweed colored sand of the Indian Ocean coastline. 
Back up to the vacant building for our group picnic. 
Picnic is Bweni! 
We have arrived. 
The food has arrived. 
The bea (beer) has arrived. 
Bread, peanut butter, mangoes, watermelon, chipias and CAKE. 
Yes, that does say CAKE. 
My first piece of CAKE since leaving the states. 
One of my first sweets since being on this island. 
So delightful. 
Chakula (food). 
Chakula.
Chakula. 
Asante. 
Asante. 
Asante sana! 
We eat. 
We talk. 
We have introductions to those new faces. 
We enjoy a day off, being in the countryside of Mafia Island. 
Peacefully being in the company of one another. 
And off we go again. 
Bweni Bound continues. 
Down the dirt path to an Australian owned resort given the name "Turtle Rock" by our dear international volunteer Sean. 
We are free to roam, explore, experience the land. 
We walk with our toes in the sand and of course a beer in hand. 
The image of that in front of me is surreal. 
The most simply elegant scenery. 
Bare bright trees in the ocean water. 
Roots coming up from the sand wanting attention of that above the ocean's surface. 
Bweni Bound has reached its peak. 
Everyone is together. Smiling. Laughing. Sharing even more stories. 
It's time for a sunset swim. 
Those ready for the ocean waters jump right in, while others converse on the sand. 
The sun begins to set. 
We cheer. 
We look at one another in gratitude. 
What a beautiful day spent in the presence of those making a drastic shift in the Mafia Island education system. 
Twenty three in total. 
Teaching. Gesturing. Lesson Planning. Giving. Receiving. 
We are all doing this together. 
We play hard, but work abundantly harder. 
Bweni Bound was a day away. 
A picnic amongst the forest of Mafia Island. 
Back down. 
Racing along the dirt path with headlights on brightly towards our villages. 
Bweni Bound was beyond a day of pleasure. 
It was a day that will remain vividly in my mind.
The photos captured that day will be shared. 
Shared with many. 
A day of experiencing the power of what mere strangers can accomplish when mindsets are smiler and determination is at largely at hand. 
It is possible. 
It is definitely possible. 
It is happening. 
The Mafia Island education is improving. 
We are beginning to make a difference.  


Blessings and love from Mafia Island! 

Oh, my students! My Students. My students. 
What to say about my students. 
So much to say about teaching in Tanzania. 
So much to say about my students. 
Well here it goes…. 

I am nearing the end of my third week of teaching TEE - TZ (Technology Enhanced English - Tanzania). 
A quick run down of the program… this is a semester long program consisting of being here for a little over nine weeks. One week of training upon arrival, one week of pre-testing at our designated school, six weeks of intense English lesson plans, one week of post-testing and traveling time in-between. 
Training is where we learn the in's and out's of Genki English, Genki phonics, our lesson planning and our schedule for the six weeks. Pre-testing is a combination of seven tests both written and oral seeing where the incoming Form I secondary school students perform in their English skills. 
Our pretesting consisted of only testing 45 out of the 120 enrolled Form I students as testing is done during an option week of school for the children which is usually a week that is heavily labor intensive. 
The six weeks then includes Genki English computer lessons, Genki phonics lessons with lots of pronunciation and gestures and 37 lessons ranging from greetings, body parts, questions, dictionaries, time, present tense, parts of speech and so much more! 

Testing didn't take up the entire pre-testing week, so I used Thursday afternoon and Friday morning (as Friday's are half days) to get to know the students on a more personal level by giving them mediums to express themselves. The first thing I did was teach them "Slippery Fish." This is a song I learned during training at Isabel Patterson Child Development Center in Long Beach. It's a song that kids instantly love because the hand gestures are so much fun. Seeing as I am teaching these students very basic English skills, this was perfect. After writing all the lyrics on the board with animal names in both Swahili and English alongside very poor drawings, we went through it a couple times and before I knew it, everyone was happily singing slippery fish! 

The second activity I did with the students was a writing and drawing in response to the question, Unataka kuwa nani ukikua? (what do you want to be when you grow up?). I put example professions in both English and Swahili on the board and explained what each one was. I then gave every student their own piece of computer paper and had them visually express what they wanted to be when they grew up. 
This was an interesting exercise as many of them just copied those ideas and drawing around them, while a couple were very creative coming up with their own design and profession. 
Reality is, many of these young minds haven't been exposed to the sample professions and even more so reality is many of these students will not pass their exams to move onto Form II and then assume full responsibilities of supporting the family. I took these pieces of paper, attached them to a large post-it like paper and hung them around the classroom with the title on top. After morning and afternoon breaks, the students excitedly run to the posters to see what others drew and said about their future. 

From the second week of the program on, there are four English Form I semester teachers including myself, Seif (local volunteer), Regina (local teacher) and Issac (local teacher).
 There are three streams (I, II, and III). I created a schedule with an even rotation where each week a teacher is assigned either Stream I, Steam II, Steam III or Genki English enabling the students to get a variety of English teachers pronouncing the necessary words for them to advance. 

Materials are extremely scare here. Students come to school with their mathematical boxes, a pen, pencil and notebook. Some have backpacks, but not all. I have one very large blackboard at the front of the classroom with a box of chalk. My hand definitely cramps up by the end of the day as I have to press extremely hard to get the necessary words on the board. The chalk box says its dustless. I beg to differ. 
By morning break (which is when I eat breakfast) my clothes are half white as they are decorated in chalk. 
The students are responsible for writing down the necessary information from the board into their notebooks. This process becomes extremely tedious as in primary school, the use of rulers was obviously extensive and everything has to have a perfectly straight line and their drawings have to be done in pencil and mirror exactly what mine looks like on the board. And oh yes, my images on the blackboard are not ones that should be duplicated. They are quite entertaining. 

Corporal punishment is sadly something that is regularly used in Tanzanian schools. 
And yes, I have seen it far too many times since I've been teaching at my secondary school. 
There is a lot I have to say and to be said about corporal punishment, but this is not the time nor the appropriate medium. My first week I was extremely intimidated and felt at a disadvantage because I could not speak fluent Swahili and tell them everything I waned to. Now, after almost three weeks of teaching, I am embrace that I am not fluent in Swahili (that is ONLY in the classroom) as it forces the students to ask questions and talk to me in English, which is getting easier for them but still tough. 

This past Friday, I did an activity with my Stream II students about reading, understanding and creating monthly calendars. I put the class into seven groups and handed each group a notecard including the month, how many days in the month and special Tanzanian holidays during that month, a marker pen, a large white piece of paper and sent them outside to create their calendars in their groups. 
Not only did I get to witness these young minds working together, I got to see a new kind of excitement and empowerment radiate from them. The seven groups were all so proud of their calendars, each a little different in size and shape, but all including the necessary information. Once each group completed their calendars, I took group photos. I think this was their favorite part as everyone  was surprisingly overexcited to take photos. 
These group photos turned into massive class photos when as many people trying to jump in the picture as possible. This outside activity proved extremely beneficial for the students as it took them outside their strict classrooms norms and into the beautiful jungle of a schoolyard all the while applying what they learned and being able to express themselves.

I am constantly amazed at how quickly these students catch on.
 If one does not understand the English task given, that who does understand will turn to the other and say the directions in Swahili. Students are extremely quiet at first, it takes them quite some time to come out of their shells. Girls especially do not talk very often and I have to ask them multiple times to repeat what they said so I can actually hear them. Muslim names differ greatly from that of Christian names. 
All girls have to have their head shaved regardless of wearing a hijabu or not. 
Uniforms are stickily enforced where the students clothes need to be clean, ironed and according to dress code -- the boys wear black pants, a dark belt, a white colored shirt and black shoes -- the girls wear forest green skirts, white colored shirts, white socks, black shoes and if Muslim a large white fabric known as a hijabu over their heads. 

This coming weekend marks our midpoint evaluation where the local teachers, local volunteers and international volunteers come together to discuss what is and is not working with their schools and the program as a whole. I speak my mind to the extent that needs to be heard, but I do have to constantly remind myself that the Tanzanian school system is not even comparable to that of the American school system. The hamna shida no hurry way of life is admirable in a multitude of ways, except when it starts to affect youth's education. Unfortunately, school is not a top priority, teachers are hard to come by, those who are teaching are not always that dedicated, schools have very little resources and the list goes on and on. This is not always true as there are some incredibly dedicated teachers who heavily promote the advancement of the students. I am, as always just extremely thankful to have this opportunity to contribute my passion and love for education, knowledge and humanity at large. 

All in all, at this time in the teaching process, I can honestly say…. teaching has brought about a whole new happiness, new kind of gratification, new understanding for youth and education systems as a whole. Seeing as this is my first time in a classroom environment responsible for teaching an entire class, I was bound to have "new" emotions, but just wasn't too sure what they would hold. Monday mornings are a little tough as they ended last week with a different teacher and they just had the whole weekend off. But by Genki phonics time, I have the kids standing on their chairs jiggling around like jello! Not only is J one of our phonics words with the gesture of jiggling, it is a wonderful tool to get them excited about the days lessons. I am absolutely loving my time in the classroom, getting to teach these students an intense English curriculum with my flavor and spreading/sharing so much love, positivity, encouragement and inspiration. 
Not just from me to them, but most definitely them towards me. 
I know my remaining three weeks will be even better than the previous three weeks as with each lesson, each day, I am getting more and more able to them in the way best way possible. 

I am blessed. Thank you for reading, listening and embracing. 

Warmth. 
A moment of warmth so pure, so new. 
So new to the spirit. 
Not the warmth of a mother's hug, one that I miss dearly every morning and evening. 
Not the warmth of an infant gripping onto your finger as tightly as their little limbs can do.  
Not the warmth of your loved ones expressing their appreciation for your existence. 
I am talking about the warmth of our universe. 
I am talking about the warmth of a young soul's smile within our universe. 
A smile with so much admiration and excitement to have an English conversation with the schools international English teacher. 
This warmth, it is almost indescribable. 
Although you were not present for this specific sunset walk around my Kitomondo neighborhood,  
I will do my best to explain what I mean by this form of warmth. 
What I experienced that very evening. 

Warmth from the universe. 
Warmth of a young soul's smile. 
Taking a solo walk, getting lost and consumed by the African forest. 
Greenery. 
Chirping. 
Dirt paths. 
Setting Sun. 
New faces carrying their loads. 
Exploring the emotions throughout my body. 
Words swirling around in my mind. 
My camera has been my form of communication for several years now. 
It has been my vehicle. 
It is my vehicle. 
Allowing me to express my innermost being. 
To.
To the. 
To the world. 
To the world at large. 
My photographs tell a story. 
Tell my story. 
One in which I experience and live each and every moment. 
One in which I feel blessed to share with my community. 
With all communities. 
In the states, a desired weekend day is spent getting lost amongst the trails of a botanical garden. 
Not one in particular, just one open for an explorer.  
Taking in all the colors and reflecting on the talents of our dear mother nature. 
Our universe. 
Connection. 
Realization. 
Circle of life. 
One feeding another through the death of their leaf. 
Spreading the seeds. 
In many cases, the wings of a flower. 
Our world is abundantly interconnected. 
Each part working together or in some cases against one another. 
But, all creating a whole. 
Providing to those whom cannot provide for themselves. 
And yes, being selfish and taking only what they need with no intention of giving back. 
This is our society. 
This is our world. 
Humans, you ask? 
No. 
No. 
No. 
Not just humans. 
All life.
The dirt we walk on. 
The trees that provide our oxygen. 
The sun creating and sustaining life.
The fish in the ocean. 
The coconut way up high. 
Yes, all life.  
Every living thing on this earth. 
In this earth. 
Around this earth. 
Our universe. 
We are minuscule to that which lies beyond our present physical existence. 
These gardens I speak of. 
This desired weekend day is not one that is desired. 
Nor is it just a weekend day. 
This botanical garden I talk about is that which I am surrounded by everyday. 
That which I wake up to and lies right outside my bedroom window. 
That which blows above me as I walk to school in the mornings. 
That which glistens in the evening sun as I run down the dirt path leading to the next village. 
That which surrounds my walk into town. 
Oh yes, it is true. 
I am living in one ginormous botanical garden. 
One that is more than the art of mother nature through that of flowers, plants, trees, birds and cows. 
It is one of a human botanical garden. 
Faces with smiles bigger and more curious then seen by my two eyes prior to this reality. 
Ones in which colors of fabrics radiate every vibrant color known to man. 
Ones with skin so dark. 
Ones that sing when they have the chance to have an English conversation. 
Simply saying hello, ask my name and where I'm from. 
That's all they need. 
That alone will do. 
Everyday is a new discovery. 
A more clearer realization. 
A point of growth. 
A moment of confusion. 
Even with the confusion being thrown into the mix, I go to bed each night with so much peace in my heart. 
Calmness in my body. 
Openness in my mind. 
I wake each day with even more inspiration and determination than the day before. 

Reality. 
I am here.
I wake up each morning in Kitomondo on Mafia Island in AFRICA! 
I am here.