The whole idea started over dinner with not more than 4 people, very courageous to share the little blessing (blesssing of having parents, a home to go to and a good education) they have in life with those who weren't so lucky due to circumstances...... these were former UN Club members and now Peace and Love Proclaimers, students of Mzumbe University, only a month old since the enrole in the university.

Their idea was to visit an orphanage that was around the university, get to spend sometime with the kids and get to learn from them and share with them various life experiences...

With the right determination, leadership and plan they managed to materialize thier idea to reality on the afternoon of 19th Nov 2011...

Life may be unfair at times, some are blessed with too much while others dont have even the littlte they need to get by, but through sharing we can achieve that right balance, the balance that guarantees life and love for all...

Life gifts are not equal all the time but by sharing we make the World a Better and fair place for both of us...

It started with Cold Play from Viva la Vida.....

1200 youth from 270 countries aroung the world, meet to discuss the most challenging issues of the world: Environment, Global Business, Global Health, Interfaith Dialogue, Media and Leadership. Brilliant speakers, CEO's of World largest companies come to speak to these leaders of the world.

The call was Make Your VOice Heard no matter how. The leaders of our countries are not doing enough these young people decided to do it themselves. They do incredible things back in their countries not waiting for their teacher, parents, friends, co-workers to push them.

I am please to be among those great minds of the world, but what remains id HOW CAN I LEAVE MY MARK.

Kind regards to all of the TIG team for the Bday wishes and the Card, the day was awesome and i had alot of Fun.Again thank you!

It is declared that education is Fundamental  Right  to  all  children but  i  wonder how  that  can be possible if the school  is 1000mies away, there are only buidings but no teachers, there are teachers but not compitent... I wonder if that is what you wish for your child.

Every politician takes his or her child in a good private school and dont even care of these all poor children who can not afford all those luxuries because some few people not even more than 500, steel there right.

Dear all,

For the past two decades my country has hosted the largest number of refugees from all parts of Sourthen Sahara, this is because most Tanzanians decided to invest in peace.

For 50 years country had/have the challenges of its own such as corruption, mass unemployment, land conflicts and inflation just to mention few. However we the people of United Republic of Tanzania decided to hold our horses and let things fall into places after some time. We might be seen as fools sometimes with those who use force to reach the agreements, but we take it as a bedge of honor as we see the positive results of it, that we spend more time in production rather than arguments, we respect Human Rights and the Rule of law as one.  We come closer to one another.

Saying that, i urge all youth to decide where they will prefer to invest their time,money and energy. If they invest in conflicts they will reap the good of it a dead zone with no tourists nor investment. But if they invest in peace they will reap a prosper economy.

Lets learn from Rwanda, they learned the meaning of the phrase the hard way. But you have the chance to prevent it to happen to your country by INVESTING IN PEACE AND NEGOTIATIONS.

Humans have been in Zanzibar since the Late Stone Age. Archaeologists have recovered tiny stone tools on the island that date back at least 20,000 years.

Zanzibar remained largely unknown to the outside world until its discovery by Persian traders. They found the island to be a convenient stop along their east African routes, and they quickly built garrisons overlooking the island’s defensible harbor. Temples and mosques soon followed.

Written accounts from Arabs in 915 AD reveal that Zanzibar was once home to many elephants. Marco Polo reinforced this when he traveled to the island in 1295, and proclaimed Zanzibar to have ‘elephants aplenty’. Many of the islands oldest carved doors feature brass spikes that were traditionally used to ward off elephant attacks. Though there are no longer elephants on Zanzibar, the spikes can still be seen in Stone Town.zanzibaR

In the mid-1400’s, the Portuguese found and took control of Zanzibar. This arrangement lasted for 200 years before the island came under the rule of the Oman Sultanate, a nation on the southeast coast of the Arab peninsula. Oman quickly put Arab leaders in place, and they came up with a strategy to make Zanzibar a hub for ivory and spice trade.zanzibar Hotels

The Sultan of Zanzibar ruled until the 19th Century, when citizens grew weary of the slave trade. The British Empire sought to take control of Zanzibar, but tensions mounted when the island’s pro-British sultan passed away. He was succeeded by a sultan who did not meet with Britain’s approval, and who did not share his predecessor’s warm feelings toward the Empire.hotEls in zanzibaR

Just a question mark, among lots of question marks, which you could ask me. A little secret game of my "too-pink-much-geek" mind. How do I figure Apocalypse?

Reply n° 1: Apocalypse is like an Internet blackout.

For me (for most of my friends) it would mean to kill The Damned Avatar. That other devilish ourselves, which you never know if it is real or not, messing up  our lives telling everything - and too much - about our business on Facebook, Twitter and similar.

And just a good reason, among lots of good reasons, to make a little Apocalypse killing The Damned Avatar. A couple of stuff changing once more in your life, so that you don't know where you're going. If you don't know, why should people do?

That's what's happening, again. Me and My Damned Avatar have been unusually silent. Not really because of  a nothing-to-say moment. We've been busy enjoying some things that we'll tell later. Just the time to live some more minutes and hours and days till the end, without any update-update raptus… Why not?

Reply n° 2: Apocalypse is like a crucial birthday.

In the meantime, I jumped the Big Age Edge. To be honest. I still don't have idea of what the hell does it mean, but finally I'm a 30-year lady.

I can't stop looking at the latest pictures of me, again and again. To find out something. Maybe some traces of my latest ten months. The first ten months of real revolution in my life!

There's one of these images, come out unexpectedly among hundreds of files, that I love more than the others. I don't know the person who did that shot - an anonymous photographer who has been able to tell a weird story, without even being aware about the existence of a weird story. Have a look!

I'm still in Tanzania. No huts, no savannah, no safari. Just the big city Dar Es Salaam, and the 30-years-old me. I confirm, once more, that there are many things that My Damned Avatar will be allowed to tell with a certain delay. For now, just try to figure out the weird story behind the picture... 

I'm considering a curious phenomenon. My clock says it's 15.50. My mobile says it's 15.21. My laptop says it's 14.55. My netbook says (attention please) it's 16.10.

You could object: "Your stuff are just tech-trash, mwanangu. They can fail". Of course, they can. Most of all when the human mind who set them follows a personal idea of time.

On the other side, when I was in Italy my clocks were wrong as well. If the right hour was 12.00, my tech-trash gave back 12.10, 12.10, 12.10. And. 12.10! That's the point.

Well. I give you note that...

Cliché n° 3 – Italian people play an everlasting war with their clocks
(The truth behind: We're obsessed with regularity)

It seems a contradiction, but it isn't. Italian people fight against their clocks with the aim of putting order where order is not supposed to be. We spend lot of time trying to fill everything into a timetable, and the result is that we're... regularly late!

To better explain Italians' idea of time, it could be useful to compare connections between cause and effect in several everyday settings. Let's consider, for instance, their Tanzanian equivalents.*

Public Transport (Italian way)

Despite we always complain about it, Italian people love to travel by train. It's a problem, because traveling by train requires to be at the station the right time. Solution is simple: Italian trains are regularly 10 minutes late. Italian people can go on enjoying their trips, without loosing the train.

Public Transport (Tanzanian way)

Despite they always complain about it, Tanzanian people love to travel by bus. It's a problem, because traveling by bus requires to be at the station the right time. Solution is simple: Tanzanian bus pretend to leave the right time, but they're always blocked in queue for one hour before being out, on the road. Tanzanian people can go on enjoying their trips, without loosing the bus.

Save energy, save the environment (Italian way)

Italian urban people's recurrent incubus is the "no-car day". When the environmental situation becomes critical, our authorities plan some days in which it's not allowed to use cars. They arrange everything well, and they publish all the schedules on press and websites... just the day after the "no-car day"! So you regularly get a couple of tickets, before understanding that you were not allowed to use your car. The result? Big tragedy, of course.

Save energy, save the environment (Tanzanian way)

Tanzanian urban people's recurrent incubus is the "no-electricity day". When the environmental situation becomes critical, their authorities plan some days in which it's not possible to use electricity. They arrange everything well, avoiding to give any note about schedules... they just switch off everything, seemingly without any logical frame. So, suddenly, it's no more possible to do things you have to do. And you never know how long it will last. The result? Big tragedy, of course.  

* By the way, Tanzanian people don't even try to fight with their clocks. So they're less stressed, and... irregularly late, of course!

(To be continued...)

Feeling unquestionably made in Italy and establishing right in the middle of one of the widest crossroads of the World, is being like... me. People understand at the first sight that we're "imported", but probably they need a deeper check to understand who we really are.

I'll be honest. Since I'm in Tanzania, sometimes I feel like a Borsalino hat. Everybody immediately identify the shape, and want to have a look. But. How many of them really appreciate all those small-but-significant details, which suggest my origin without any kind of doubt?

On the other hand, there is me having a look out of my window. Any time of the day (and often also of the night). Hidden among almost two million and a half inhabitants of Dar Es Salaam, I meet people. I see behaviors. And most of all, I hear words.

I'm impressed because of the large number of opinions based on cliches and stereotypes - abroad, in my country, everywhere. I never noticed it before, since I started to listen some "beautiful strangers" talking about... Italians!

It's funny, for real. Digging the mountain of stories people say about us, it is possible to find several delicious cookies. 'Cause sometimes... yes! Stereotypes are more real than the real.

That's the point of a little game that killed a part of my latest too-hot-to-go-out sunday afternoon. Is it possible to use common cliches to identify an Italian among a lot of wazungu seeming all the same, without the risk of making mistakes? I suppose it is.

So. Let's talk about Italian people!

Cliché n° 1 – Italian people always look smart
(The truth behind: We can't suffer fakes)

If you see a just-coiffed lady wearing a pair of Prada shoes in the middle of Mwananyamala, asking a seller if the fruit she's buying is bio... she is Italian for sure.

In our wardrobe there's nothing which isn't branded... at least a bit. In our handbag you won't ever find a mobile phone of questionable workmanship. We're always aware about the pedigree of the beef stored in our fridge.

And we got the top of happiness when someone tells us "You're original Italian". Even when it's clear that it's everything but an appreciation.

But... pay attention!

Sometimes it happens that we find something so fake to seem unreal. Shameless fake, in Italian people's opinion, is "original fake". It runs us crazy.

That's why I love those Bollywood movies where characters look like plastic dolls. That's why I keep on buying spaghetti whose envelope is written in arab fonts. That's why I'm literally sick about my fake Borsalino bought in Mwenge.

And that's why many Italian girls can't resist to... a real Maasai speaking a very fake Italian!

Cliché n° 2 – Italian people take everything as a joke
(The truth behind: We're often too optimist)

It's easy to make an Italian thrilled for something. And it's much more easy to disappoint him/her in a short time. As a general rule, Italian people have a positive attitude to anything new and different. Sometime (sigh!) too positive.

It's normal. Each of us is optimist first of all about the fact of being Italian, even when our nationality is cause of embarassing situations - a common matter nowadays, since Internet makes “global” all the misdeeds performed by (some)one of us.

Sense of humor is probably the most effective weapon we have against potential and ongoing disappointments. Including the fail of being from the same country of that... some(one).

That's why Italian people sometimes play a bit also with serious matters. It's nothing else that... the consequence of an excess of optimism.

But... pay attention!

In our recurrent excesses of enthusiasm, we forget that self-humor is for many but not for everybody. And sometimes the target of our jokes get angry (oooops!).

So, if you're asking why the hell a certain Italian is keeping on kidding about everything you say... take a breath. And just look for the reason of his/her "positivity" related to you!

(To be continued...)

I suppose that an entity "other" decided that I should have stopped everything and go holidays. Blog dramatically off-line. Electricity up and down, as it was an optional. Another phenomenon of “guest-house effect”. And a new trip to Maasailand, at Christmas. Neither a chance of posting wishes. Sorry!

Luckily, forced breaks are not Highlander. Sooner or later, they're over. So... this is it. I don't even know where to start, since too many things happened during the latest weeks. 2010 finally switched-off. And here we are, diving into 2011.

Last year kept on kidding me up to the 365^th day, the same way it began.

The driver of a bus going to Kilindi District made my life two years shorter, performing a virtuosic backing down a hill at 70km/h. I got the evidence that God exists: I'm still alive to tell about it.

In order of being elegant but comfortable at Christmas, I put on a maxi long down to feet. Bad choice! Walking to the church, I deforested kilometers of bush, which are actually hanging upside down from its edge.

A couple of maasai girls above suspicion almost managed to joke me with the trick of the “perfect husby”, trying to stick the village idiot (and many other respectable specimens) at me as boyfriend.

At the New Year Night it hasn't been possible for me to find a glass of champagne. Nevertheless, I was wearing a kind of kimono-shirt... which guaranteed a “shy” presence of two Chinese guys looking like cartoons, regularly on the short distance. Surreal. Such as Ahmed the Pakistani ironmonger – which in the meantime keeps on staying all guns blazing about getting married with me.

Despite Tanzanian drivers, maxi-skirts in the bush and wannabe “perfect husbies” - being them Chinese, Pakistani or whatever... new year got off the ground in just an hour.

On January 1^st I discovered that I'm able to switch-off my neurons and switch them on again, with impressive awareness. On January 2^nd I thought that life is beautiful also because fantasy novels, Bollywood movies, Wii and samaki kukanga at Rose Garden exist. On January 3^rd I had the chance of extending my holidays, thanks to TANESCO and another recurrent blackout in my office.

Life is going on...
(I wish everybody a 2011 full of great fun!)

If you asked me about my future one year ago, I’d have replied something else. Luckily, nobody asked me such question that time – It would have been embarassing, because in the meantime... I changed my mind!

My name is Gisella, but many people here and there on Internet know me as PinkCoffee. On June 23rd 2005, I dropped my first post “hoping that someone will be brave enough to read my bla-bla”. This way, I became a blogger.

On January 7th 2009, a virus leveled my laptop. I dropped just some desperate lines, then I disappeared. Promising myself of being back later, having something more interesting than my digital dramas to tell about.  

So, here I am. Almost two years are gone, since my last blogging show. I left my pink-but-ordinary life in Italy, almost 6 months ago. And I’m learning how to manage an ordinary-but-pink life elsewhere... Sorry. Very elsewhere.

The bad side is that sometimes I’d like to find a very sharp corner where to smash my head. Most of all, when I realize that I just made a stupid mistake. The nice side is that – finally! – I always have an entertaining story to tell about. Despite it is a fact that telling entertaining stories is always a stupid mistake!

Destiny wanted me to unplug the cable and fly to Africa. But. My dear reader. Do not expect to learn about safari along unspoilt and wild lands. PinkCoffee is always the same, the most drastic girl-from-the-city. Investigating everyday life from a bird’s eye view, because of her legendary pair of stilettos.

So, you’re welcome! I left some posts explaining something about my new setting and the previous episodes. And I’m going to give new details, day by day. Hope you enjoy... PinkCoffee’s brand new blog!

(Any allusion to You... is not here by chance!)

Once upon a time, we were three. Me, my sister and the Maasai. Mixing Italians and Maasai in the same home leads just one, simple, effect – let's call it "the guest-house effect".

It means people-in and people-out at any hour of the day, better if without any advance notice. It's not so bad, when you get the habit. It makes everyday life more tasty... 'cause it pulls in your walls stories from the outside. And the nice side is that something of your guests always stays, also as the guest himself has gone somewhere else.

Each unexpected visit is defined by a different level of "sweet" intrusiveness. Someone just leaves the shape of his ass on the couch. Someone leaves his fingerprints on the remote, or a new little fellow into the Wii. Someone – sneaky! – changes the order of your DVDs on the TV shelf (a bad idea, very bad...).

You know that an Italian guest has been in our area when you find some salami in our fridge and a bottle of wine on the counter. Italian guests are always useful, in a moment of cookery desperation. But. To be honest, they are the most expensive as well. When they fly away, your kitchen is empty... and your pocket is light!

On the contrary, Maasai guests are very cheap. They like very short stays. They could sleep on a stone, if needed: it doesn't matter, because they wake up at 5.00am. They eat just two or three kind of food – or they don't eat almost at all. But. They are able to forget everything-everywhere! Suitcases containing stuff full of beads and coins, pieces of hair extensions, rubber sandals or sneakers or slippers (depending on their temporary mood). Sometimes they simply abandon pieces of their office or files of vital importance, for months and months. Maybe they consider any place safer than their own hands. I'll ask, one day.

What about the funniest souvenirs forgotten by our Maasai guests? One wrote the password of his email on the newspaper, and left it here as a gift. Another installed two – not one, but two – toothbrushes over my sink. Just like that. As a kind of advice: "You know that I'll be back. Sooner or later, when you don't expect. I'll. Be. Back!".

Once upon a time we were three. Me, my sister and the Maasai. Now, thanks to the "guest-house effect" we are much more. I just have to decide who is relevant as character in this lifelong sit-com, and who isn't. So, if you recognized yourself in the paragraphs above... take a breath! Sometimes I tell about sins, about sinners silence will be kept.