Thursday, January 24, 2013

100 things to do during your first month at site in TZ...

  1. Meet your village leaders.
  2. Meet your fellow villagers.
  3. Meet your choo lizard.
  4. Name your guard frog.
  5. Order a bedframe at the fundi’s.
  6. Eat four mangos.
  7. Spend two days with a high fever because you didn’t properly clean the four mangos.
  8. Get one of your Medical Officers (PCMOs) to say “Oh my God.”
  9. Sweep your house.
  10. Sweep your yard.
  11. Sweep your house again.
  12. Stare at a wall.
  13. Talk to the wall.
  14. Talk to a bug on the wall.
  15. Stare at a different wall.
  16. Stare at the village kids in the window staring at you staring at the different wall.
  17. Sweep your house again.
  18. Go to the fundi’s and ask why your bedframe is late.
  19. Cook food.
  20. Watch ants eat your food.
  21. Write a letter to the ants asking them to not eat your food.
  22. Declare war on the ants when they ignore your letter.
  23. Spend an afternoon spraying ants out of spite.
  24. Comb your beard.
  25. Buy a machete.
  26. Use reflective duct tape to give your machete an awesome handle.
  27. Name your machete Nyokabane.
  28. Set out with Nyokabane and a gear-laden backpack to conquer the mountain nearest your village.
  29. Run home with Nyokabane and a gear-laden backpack when a flash thunderstorm appears a half-hour later.
  30. Buy a shortwave radio.
  31. Listen to the BBC World News in English.
  32. Praise the BBC World News in English in English.
  33. Listen helplessly as the BBC World News in Swahili overtakes the BBC World News in English.
  34. Curse the BBC World News in Swahili in English.
  35. Buy a pillow with Sean Connery’s face on it.
  36. Buy a pillow with Ash and Pikachu on it.
  37. Commit to finishing your fledgling collection of nostalgia-inducing pillows.
  38. Argue with a villager over whether or not the United States controls the weather.
  39. Go to the fundi’s and ask when your bedframe will finally be finished.
  40. Go to the fundi’s tomorrow.
  41. Go to the fundi’s the day after tomorrow.
  42. Get your damn bedframe.
  43. Kindly remind the fundi that he has no power to power the power drill he wants you to buy him.
  44. Put your mosquito net up.
  45. Sleep under your mosquito net.
  46. Spend a night trying to locate the beg bugs nesting inside your mosquito net.
  47. Devise a contraption to drown bed bugs.
  48. Drown bed bugs.
  49. Wake up at 5:00am to get on the 6:00am bus to your banking town.
  50. Watch a herd of cows pass by at 6:00am instead of your bus.
  51. Learn that the 6:00am bus doesn’t run on Sunday.
  52. Ask a passing lorry driver if he is heading to your banking town “sasa” (“now”).
  53. Get into the back of the lorry when the driver says yes.
  54. Sigh deeply as the lorry pulls into your village market and parks for two hours.
  55. Realize the herd of cows that passed earlier is also in your village market.
  56. Watch as villagers isolate a large bull from the herd of cows.
  57. Watch the large bull transform from pissed off to ribcage in about an hour.
  58. Get to your banking town three hours late.
  59. Have lunch in your banking town alone.
  60. Order goat soup.
  61. Vow to never eat goat soup again.
  62. Introduce yourself to the Maasai medicine man who sits next to you.
  63. Have a half-Swahili, half-English conversation about traditional medicine.
  64. Try to talk about neem trees, HIV/AIDS and malaria.
  65. Talk instead about natural remedies for erectile dysfunction.
  66. Ponder the origins of the Maasai word “ding dong”.
  67. Wonder why other Volunteers in your district refer to some locals as “stage fives”.
  68. Meet a stage five.
  69. Stop wondering and get away.
  70. Attend local soccer matches.
  71. Buy jerseys to show support for your village teams at local soccer matches.
  72. Watch a local soccer match turn into hundreds of people punching, kicking and yelling for 45 minutes because the ref blew a consequential call.
  73. Spend two weeks convincing your village teams that you are not going to buy them new uniforms despite what the village councilman said.
  74. Wonder why you received half a box of tampons in a care package.
  75. Buy a kerosene lantern.
  76. Notice a piece of the kerosene lantern’s fuel cap is loose and will not open.
  77. Fix the fuel cap by slicing your thumb with a knife. Wait…
  78. Politely tell the village doctor that you don’t need adrenaline shots to stop bleeding in a thumb.
  79. Politely tell the village doctor that you don’t need adrenaline shots to stop bleeding in a thumb.
  80. Politely tell the village doctor that, really, you don’t need adrenaline shots to stop bleeding in a thumb.
  81. Impolitely yell at the village doctor until he stops trying to give you adrenaline shots.
  82. Practice greetings outside your VEO’s house.
  83. Practice greetings outside your VEO’s house while holding your laptop overhead for half an hour to get an internet signal so you can send an image of your thumb to the PCMO.
  84. Go to your region’s only Peace Corps-approved hospital.
  85. Watch three doctors debate whether to use stitches or pull the skin off your thumb.
  86. Watch one doctor leave to get anesthetics.
  87. Watch another doctor try to pull the skin off your thumb while the other is still getting anesthetics.
  88. Curse profusely in a Catholic mission.
  89. Get an anesthetic shot in your thumb.
  90. Curse even more profusely in a Catholic mission.
  91. Ponder the irony of how painful an anesthetic shot to the thumb is.
  92. Lock yourself out of your house.
  93. Have the fundi break you into your house.
  94. Try not to think about the ease with which the fundi broke you into your house.
  95. Introduce yourself to the headmaster of your primary school.
  96. Arrange a formal meeting with the headmaster and teachers for the following day.
  97. Arrive for the meeting to find out the headmaster has taken the day off to go to town.
  98. Arrange an impromptu meeting with teachers who had no idea you were coming.
  99. Return home following the meeting and zip up your pants.
  100. Sweep your house again.

Habari yako? Karibu kujifunza Kiswahili...


Greetings!

That’s what this post is about (among other things). Welcome to my second post on Swahili. I wrote this about a month ago and wasn’t sure whether to put it up, but I imagine the value in this and related posts comes not from actually learning the terms, but from understanding how the language is used and what that reveals about Tanzanian culture. Take what you will from it.

So, again, this deals with greetings, some related phrases and also some background on how some of those phrases are used. Greetings are critical to any conversation in Tanzania. It’s inappropriate to begin a conversation without one, and not uncommon to exchange multiple greetings before any substantive conversation actually begins.

(Note: There are some verb constructions in this list. If you wanna have fun dissecting them, refer to the chart in my previous post.)

habari (n): news, information; a word common in many Tanzanian greetings
>”Habari?”: “News?”; boring and lifeless given all the other choices, but it works
>”Habari gani?”: lit. “Which news?”; syn. “What’s up?”
>”Habari yako?”: lit. “Your news?”; syn. “How are you?”
>”Habari1 za… (leo, sasa, etc…)?”: lit. “News of… (today, now, etc…)?”; syn. “How’s it going?”
-zuri (adj): good; one of two appropriate replies2 to a “habari” question, prefix varies3
salama (adj): peaceful; the other appropriate reply to a “habari” question
“Hujambo?”4: “You have nothing the matter with you?”; another common greeting
>“Sijambo.”: “I have nothing the matter with me.”; the appropriate reply to “Hujambo?”
“Shikamuu!”5: “I hold your feet!”; a respectful greeting to elders or superiors
>“Marahaba!”: (no lit. translation); the appropriate reply to “Shikamuu!” 

1. In the Tanzanian vernacular, “habari” is usually dropped. “Habari za leo?” becomes “Za leo?” 
2. Even if you aren’t feeling well, responding in the negative is considered impolite. 
3. The composition of most words in Swahili is governed by noun classes. Noun classes are a pain, and I suspect they’re behind most Volunteer ETs (early terminations) in East Africa. 
4. Here’s a verb construction. If you look at the chart in my previous post on Swahili, “hu-” is the negative subject prefix of “you”. “-jambo” is a verb stem meaning “to have something the matter with you”. In the reply, “si-“ is the negative subject prefix of “I”. 
5. orig. “Nashika miguu yako!” “(Ni)nashika” is another verb construction. As mentioned previously,“ni-“ is typically dropped in the present tense. “Miguu” means “feet” and “yako” is the possessive for “you”. Notice that the possessive follows the possessed (“miguu yako”, not “yako miguu”); in Swahili, modifiers (numbers, possessives, adjectives) always follow the modified.

There are no doorbells in Tanzania. When you want to enter someone’s house or any other private property, you typically get someone’s attention with by “hodi-ing”.

“Hodi!”6: (no lit. translation);  used to request permission to enter
karibu (adj): welcome; used to welcome someone, also an appropriate response to “asante”
asante (n): thanks; “asanteni” when responding to multiple people
>”(Ni)nashukuru!”7: “I am grateful!”; another way to show appreciation
 
6. From Arabic, probably meaning “Is all well?”
7.
More verb construction. Drop the “ni-”; “-shukuru” is the verb stem meaning “thankful” or “grateful”.

And eventually you’ll want to leave, so it’s good to be able to say goodbye properly.

“Kwa heri!”: goodbye; the traditional way to say goodbye, particularly for an extended period
>”Badaaye!”:
later; a less formal goodbye
>“Tutaonana!”: “We will see each other!”;another common way to say goodbye
“Karibu tena!”:
“You’re welcome again!”; when departing, to welcome someone back later
“Tutakutana siku nyingine.”:
“We will meet each other another day.”; a little romantic – I like it

So that’ll do it for this bit. Now if you ever wake up and find yourself in East Africa, you’ll be able to start and end that conversation you can’t (yet) have. Huzzah!
 
Tutakutana siku nyingine.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Post-PST Update: The cake was not a lie...

Greetings and salutations once again! Also, Merry (belated) Christmas and Happy (belated) Holidays!

It’s been a long however-long-it’s-been since my mid-PST update, and quite a bit’s gone on since then. This’ll probably be a long-ish post, so let’s get to it.

First off: I’m officially (finally) a capital-V Volunteer. Huzzah! I’m now at my site in lovely Mkululu, a village located in the Masasi district of sunny (read: blistering hot) Mtwara region. More on that later, though; first: the end of PST (pre-service training, for those who aren’t keeping a list of Peace Corps acronyms). I can’t count the number of times I thought I was going to go crazy (or the number of times I may have actually gone crazy), but it’s finally, finally, finally over! Huzzah again! Here’s the play-by-play…

The classroom at MATI, our training site.
From an academic perspective, the last month of PST went pretty smooth. The training agenda shifted its emphasis from language to technical training after site visits, so we (Health trainees) spent a lot of time learning about various health-related issues that Peace Corps is trying to focus on in Tanzania (namely HIV/AIDS and malaria prevention, maternal and child health, food security and water sanitation). We also visited a local clinic to observe how they function and learn about the challenges they face, and we took part in a World AIDS Day festival to help raise awareness about HIV/AIDS prevention.

The last week in Muheza consisted of finals. We had a written LPI, an oral LPI and a technical exam and I somehow exceeded my expectations for all of them. Granted, at the end of the day our understanding of Swahili is still pretty basic (we’re responsible for growing our vocabulary further after getting to site), but the results were encouraging all the same.

Following finals week, we spent a couple days saying goodbye to our CBTs, our LCFs (language trainers) and finally our homestay families and villages. My CBT threw a (somewhat) surprise party for Asia, our LCF, and that went well. The following day, Kilulu threw a going away party for us and my homestay family gave me an awesome custom-made Tanzanian shirt. We said goodbye to our families the next morning (my Baba choked up, so I choked up) and then headed back to Dar.

My homestay family's house. I hit my head a lot on that porch...
We spent most of our time in Dar at Msimbazi Centre, the compound where we spent Week 0. We sat through some sessions at Peace Corps Headquarters, tying up loose ends and receiving final details about living allowances and such, and we met our site supervisors. We also had some free time to visit a huge, western-style (i.e., expensive) superstore the day before swearing in. It reminded me quite a bit of Walmart (because, it turns out, it’s affiliated with Walmart).

We swore in on the twelfth. The ceremony took place indoors at the U.S. Embassy, which was nice because the alternative was spending an hour sitting in the Tanzanian heat in a blazer (summer is just getting started here). A couple of trainees from our class delivered an excellent speech they’d put together in English and Swahili, then our class did a Swahili-themed rendition of “Time Warp” for the U.S. Ambassador to Tanzania and the Guest of Honor (a Tanzanian official with a particularly long title that I can’t remember). EB (our country director) spoke (and recited my favorite poem, “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost), as did the ambassador (he has a tremendous presence about him), we were sworn in and took pictures. Then, at long last, we got to the most important part: cake! Real cake! I was there; it was real! We ate cake!

After cake(!), we mingled for a while outside before heading back to Peace Corps Headquarters for a final briefing on the logistics of installation. Then we headed back to Msimbazi to finish packing for the next morning. Once that was taken care of, we went to dinner and then spent the remainder of our time hanging out for the last time as a class. Ever. (Actually, just the last time until IST in three months; three months apart just seems like forever when you’ve spent almost every day together for ten weeks.)

Swearing in. I'm glaring because I thought the Ambassador ate all the cake.
The next morning we woke up early (even by Tanzanian standards) to get to Dar’s main standi (bus stand). Dar’s main standi is insane – hundreds of buses packed together in ridiculous proximity, all scheduled to depart at the same time (6:00am). We got to the standi and, after a twenty minute search, found our bus and boarded. There was no room for most of our stuff, so Peace Corps arranged for it to be placed on another bus the following day, meaning we would be spending the entire next day in our banking town (Masasi). (This ended up being convenient, as it gave us some extra time to buy the bare necessities to survive the first week or so at site.) 6:00am arrived and, like clockwork, all the buses rolled out right on time.

The bus ride down was primarily uneventful. Because of the space limitation, I spent the first couple hours with my 30 lb. (read: stupid heavy) backpack on my lap. Most of the road to Mtwara is paved, but that doesn’t count for much because they’re constantly doing (never finishing, just doing) construction. The rainy season’s started, and we spent a two hour stretch trying to maneuver through standing water and mud. But I was seated next to my supervisor, Wallace, so we spent some extra time getting to know each other – definitely excited to work with him.

Three other Volunteers from my class are also in Mtwara: Amanda, Dierdre and Stephanie (Stevie). Dierdre’s banking town is Newala, and for some reason still unknown to us, she had to ride down on a separate bus by herself. The rest of us met my site mate, Stephanie, in Masasi and got rooms at our favorite guestie (it has electricity!). Then we grabbed food and got settled. The following day was spent walking around Masasi to pick up the basics (a mattress, a kerosene jiko, enough purified water to last until we made bucket filters, cups and bowls, simple foods, etc…). Our stuff came in that night, and we went in after dinner.

The following day, Amanda went up to her site with Stephanie and Wallace while Stevie and I went to the bank to exchange American currency into Tanzanian Shillings (tsh or /=). When they got back, Stevie and I packed our stuff into the truck and headed to our own sites (we take the same route; Stevie’s site is about 45 minutes from town, mine’s an hour and a half). We dropped Stevie off to a dancing group of women, said our goodbyes, and then headed off to my site.

My arrival was a little quieter. No dancing women, thank goodness – not sure my nerves would’ve handled that well – I was simply met by some of the village leaders on my porch. We pulled my stuff out of the truck, moved it inside, said our goodbyes and the truck, Wallace and Stephanie left.

So just like that, the real deal began. I introduced myself to the group, which included my VEO (Village Executive Officer), the village Mwenyekiti (Chairman), the Duwani (sp?; employed by the district to counsel the ward), a number of the village councilmen and women and the English-speaking doctor who runs the local dispensary where I’ll do a lot of my early work. These are the people I’ll have to develop strong relationships with if I want to get anything done, so it was good to meet them (or re-meet them) right off the bat.

After initial greetings, a couple fundis (skilled workmen; carpenters in this context) then went to work putting my mattress in the bedframe (borrowed from my VEO). Then we spent a few hours sitting on my porch “talking” (I’m giving myself too much credit) before I was allowed inside to cook my first-ever meal at site before going to bed (Okay, I cheated: it was Chef Boyardee, cookies and hot chocolate).

My house is bigger than anticipated; right now that only serves to remind me that I’m alone most of the time. I have a large entry room that’ll serve as my living room, as well as a sizeable bedroom. I also have two smaller rooms; one will serve as my jiko (kitchen) and the other will either be a small guest room, storage or a work room. I also have a nice-sized choo, so it’s back to showering indoors for me (but no worries, I still get a great view of the stars).

My house is completely unfurnished thus far, so I’ve ordered a bedframe, a couch, a desk, a few tables, a chair, a couple benches and three stools (which will probably serve as small tables). I think I got a good price, but Peace Corps is working on a budget and only allots so much for moving in, so I may end up dipping into my American account. I’ve got plenty of time to figure it all out.

My house is actually in the middle of the street.
The primary goal of the first three months at site is integration. It sounds simple: just go to your village, settle your housing affairs, meet and interact with the villagers and become accepted as a member of the community. Essentially, our goal is to just wake up in the morning, not be invisible all day, and then go to bed. The challenge is finding enough time for yourself that you don’t go crazy, but also making time to get to know the village. The villagers are as friendly as can be, but the social culture here in Tanzania dictates that you’re going to have visitors even when you don’t want them; it’s tough to find that balance.

The culture here is far more social than in America. The distractions that are available to us in the U.S. (TV, movies, videogames, reliable internet and phone service) don’t exist in rural Tanzania. Here, the entertainment is, for the most part, sitting in a group and talking. Sometimes it’s in the shade under a tree, sometimes it’s on someone’s porch, sometimes it’s in my living room (even though I have no furniture and have only a basic grasp of the language). That’s about it (although my village also has two hometown soccer teams that they’re ecstatic about; I’ve already bought jerseys for both).

In Tanzanian culture, spending too much time alone means you’re probably either sick or depressed (not necessarily untrue, in my experience; moving halfway across the world really puts you through the emotional ringer). Basically, I can count on someone knocking on my door if I spend more than an hour by myself. In their defense, it’s a well-intended gesture – like I said previously, Tanzanians are an incredibly friendly people – but it can be particularly stressful (and annoying) if you don’t feel like struggling through Swahili at that particular moment or if you happen to be cooking (as the polite gesture is to then offer food to your guest, and I’ve only been cooking for one thus far). You have to get out enough to make a presence, which usually means at least a few hours a day outside. Doesn’t sound that difficult until you try it, bringing me to the next major challenge…

Boredom. It’s everywhere. A day in Tanzania is not remotely close to a day in America; in terms of perception, it’s at least twice as long. I mentioned ‘distractions’ in America above; that term was carefully chosen. It’s difficult to occupy your mind here. Time is unbearably slow, and the day begins pretty early in Tanzania – the crack of dawn, really. My VEO typically knocks on my door at about 6:30am just to make sure I’m not dead, then I get up and begin boiling water for my shower. I take a shower, make and eat breakfast, then wash dishes. If I’m lucky (I’m usually not), that takes a whole hour. Then… well, that’s the problem. It’s up to me to make my schedule, and it’s too early to make one that encompasses the entire day just yet. It’s difficult to keep yourself busy at all, more so if you’re trying to do so in a way that’s conducive to integrating. Getting out can be stressful; sitting inside can get boring fast.

Charlotte and I admiring Treebeard, my favorite tree in Mkululu.
But sitting in my house can also do more harm than good (also, one can only swim in sweat so long), so I still try to get out as much as possible. So far, I’ve spent quite a bit of time at the dispensary trying to learn the ropes (including an impromptu lesson on how to perform a check-up on a pregnant woman); I’m trying to go for at least a couple hours each day it’s open. I’ve also been out to chai a couple times, made daily trips to the village soko (market), taken daily walks to different parts of the village to practice greetings and introduce myself, visited one of the local fundis to order furniture and sat in on a meeting of the village council. I also find myself sitting in one of the above-mentioned social circles a few times a week, although it’s typically them talking about me rather than to me – my limited vocabulary is a barrier at this point (but that will change with time). One of my better moments so far was running out to help some villagers load cashews (the cash crop in Mtwara) onto a lorry after a thunderstorm popped up out of nowhere; the villagers got a kick out of it, it killed a half hour and I didn’t have to take a shower that night. (Huzzah!)

When I do spend time in my house, I typically think about food. Cooking is nice – it takes much longer here than in America and there’s the added bonus of hand-wash everything when you’re done – so it provides a nice excuse to sit down for a bit and collect my thoughts. (Plus I’m getting pretty good at it.) I can usually get away with going inside around 6:00pm, so I’ve got a little routine going: I cook dinner, listen to BBC World News in English (bought a shortwave radio – best in-country investment so far) and then read my Kindle or watch a movie (if I want to waste half my battery) until I crash. Eventually I’ll develop something a little less mind-numbing, but it gets me by for now.

So now you’re up to date as far as site is concerned. Here are some other tidbits…

*As it happens, Christmas was a couple weeks after installation. We’re not allowed to travel outside our region during the first three months (and I can’t during the rainy season anyway; the south gets pummeled and the roads become mud), so we all met at a nearby Volunteer’s house and had a gift exchange (I got a book and a phone voucher). It was nice to get a break for a few days, but the gap between Christmas and the New Year was too long for comfort. I returned to my site a few days ago and simply slept through New Year’s Eve. Such is life. (But I’m making up for missing New Year’s by spending a day in my banking town, hence the reason I can post this. Shopping, particularly when you don’t have much, is a nice distraction.)

*I attended my first-ever Catholic Mass on Christmas Day. I have no idea what the sermon was about, but it must’ve been good because my knees hurt.  

*I finally got a dongle (wireless modem), so I can do this from the safety of anywhere with an Airtel connection (not at site, unfortunately). Hopefully that means I’ll be posting more frequently.

*I’m almost positive Mtwara is the hottest region in Tanzania. Highs are in the upper 90s and lows are in the low 70s (and that’s all year long).

*The rains make for some difficulty travelling, but they also cool things down considerably. Since I’m not going anywhere for a few months, bring it on…

*There’s a nifty little mountain a few kilometers from my village and I intend to hike it sooner than later. It’s not Kilimanjaro, but it’ll do for a first time. If I can lug my camera up with me, I’ll post pictures.

*I finally bought my first machete. I’ll be taking that with me on the hike as well, just in case any snakes try to tag along.

*I’ve known about chipsi mayai since I’ve been here, but I don’t think I’ve mentioned it yet. It’s just a bunch of sliced potatoes cooked into a bunch of eggs and, if you’re lucky, tomatoes, onions and green pepper. It’s like a huge omelet, but with tons of potatoes. Easily my favorite meal in Tanzania; it takes me home every time. If Ohio is a food, it’s chipsi mayai. Why didn’t we think of this?

Alrighty, I think that’s it for now. Sorry if the post was long; it’s been awhile and I tried to cover as much as I could. Also, surprise! This is part of a double post (that’s right, I wrote even more!), so check out below if you want some tidbits on Swahili.

Until next time, I love you all and wish you nothing but the best!

SECRET POST NUMBER THIS!


B-B-B-BONUS! Welcome to my second post in one day!

The primary purpose of this blog is to keep those of you back home in the loop. It also gives me a convenient platform for fulfilling the third of Peace Corps’ three core goals, which is to inform Americans about a foreign culture. In keeping with that goal (and, really, just because it gives me something to do), I’ll occasionally drop something here that relays some little tidbit about Tanzanian culture. This post, for example, deals with some basics on language. Here, have some Swahili…

This post will deal with the fundamentals: pronouns, the verb 'to be' (present tense only for now) and basic verb construction. Pronouns and the present tense of 'to be' are pretty straightforward; it's verb construction that can get interesting (I'll leave it up to you to decide if that's good or bad).

Here are the Swahili pronouns:

PRONOUNS
ENGLISH
SWAHILI
Sing.
I
Mimi
You
Wewe
He/She
Yeye
Plur.
We
Sisi
You (pl.)
Ninyi
They (pl.)
Wao

Here is the present tense of the verb 'to be'; it's even simpler than the English variant.

VERB "TO BE" (PRESENT TENSE)
ENGLISH
SWAHILI
Pronoun
Pos.
Neg.
Pronoun
Pos.
Neg.
Sing.
I
am
am not
Mimi
ni
si
You
are
are not
Wewe
ni
si
He/She
is
is not
Yeye
ni
si
Plur.
We
are
are not
Sisi
ni
si
You (pl.)
are
are not
Ninyi
ni
si
They (pl.)
are
are not
Wao
ni
si

And then comes verb construction, which can get complex pretty quickly. I'm going to show the most basic form (subject prefix + tense + verb root) because that's primarily what we're still using.

SIMPLE VERB CONSTRUCTION
SUBJECT
SUBJECT PREFIX
TENSE MARKER
VERB ROOT
Pos.
Neg.
Pos.
Neg.
Mimi
Ni-
Si-
-li-
(past)
-me-
(pr. perfect)
-na-
(present)
-ta-
(future)
-ku-

-ja-

(-)

-ta-
-itwa
("to be called")

-jua
("to know")

-toka
("to be from")
Wewe
U-
Hu-
Yeye
A-
Ha-
Sisi
Tu-
Hatu-
Ninyi
M-
Ham-
Wao
Wa-
Hawa-

Alrighty, so there are the charts (appreciate them; they were a pain to write). So now, using simple verb construction, you can give your name in Swahili. Because the subject is already implied in the construction, the subject pronoun is dropped:

Ni + na + itwa Kory.

I also included negatives*, which can get a little more complex (particularly in the present tense, where the tense marker is removed altogether and verb roots ending in an 'a' are modified so that they end in an 'i'). Play with negatives at your own risk.

Sijui Kiswahili.

In any case, between all the charts above (and throwing in 'Mmarekani', the term for 'American'), you should have enough to give a short introduction of yourself in Swahili.

Ninaitwa Kory. Mimi ni Mmarekani. Ninatoka Ohio.

Finally, regarding the Tanzanian vernacular: in spoken Swahili, when you are the subject speaking in the present tense, you typically drop the "Ni-" prefix. So in a conversation you would say:

Naitwa Kory. Mimi ni Mmarekani. Natoka Ohio.

There are better and more informative ways to say it, but that's enough for now considering most of you will probably never actually use this (and I'm still a newbie myself). Fun to know though, I think.

I've already got most of another Swahili-related post written (I wrote it before this, but got carried away and decided to shelve it for another time). Stay tuned.

Tutakutana siku nyingine.

*Changed the negated verb to something I'm a little more familiar with. '-itwa' (the original term) is passive form, and I have no idea if the rules change for that.