Photo: Beadmakers at Work

Here a Kimikouwa beadmaker is at work making an anklet that Project TEMBO will buy back from her to sell in Canada. There is also an earring in progress.

Photo: Buying Project TEMBO Eggs

I purchased eggs for my maize cake from Nai, a member of the chicken group. Nai is looking over my shoulder as I make the transaction with her daughter, Jane. Jane was sponsored by Project TEMBO to become a teacher in 2005 and has just left to begin her first teaching assignment.

Photo: Kimokouwa Primary School Children

School is out and the children have come over to see what I am up to. The school is located behind the dry scrub fence of thorny acacia branches constructed to keep animals off the school grounds.

Making the Connection

Baraka returned after dark to the room I had reserved for him at the Lutheran Center. He had made arrangements with a friend to have our supplies loaded up at 10:00 a.m. the next morning and dropped off first in Longido, then Kimokouwa. The cost was $110.00 U.S. which I thought was a good deal, all things considered. I would go along to the warehouses get some photos for our next newsletter.

Of course, during breakfast the next day Baraka took a call from the lorry driver on his cell phone informing us that he had scheduled another delivery before ours and would not be back until mid afternoon. No much we could do, so I headed to my room to do some writing, agreeing to meet Baraka later. The driver called to say 3:00 p.m. would be more like 6:00 p.m. so I just kept on writing. Finally a call from Baraka saying they were on their way to pick me up. There was less than an hour of daylight left so if I got only a photo or two to mark the occasion I would be happy.

The usual gang of security guards, taxi drivers, and street sellers outside the Lutheran Center couldn’t believe their eyes when the big green truck pulled up and I scaled the height from the ground to the passenger seat. Baraka’s cousin and another Maasai fellow were in the section behind our seat, either ready to help with the delivery or get a free lift home to the village. Within an hour we were loaded up, I was dropped off, and Baraka and the truck were on their way to Longido and Kimokouwa. I heaved a sigh of relief as I waved goodbye.

It is easy to see how everything is so connected, living in a country like Tanzania, especially during a severe drought. Home in Ottawa, I might have felt all our money should have been spent on feeding the people. Forget about the goats and chickens. But I realize that life must go on here. There will be life after the drought. People will rebuild their simple lives. If there is anything that characterizes Africans it is resilience. The chicken and goat businesses Project TEMBO helped the women begin a year ago must be sustained so families can be fed and mothers can afford to send their children to school. Earlier in the week, the very act of my buying fresh eggs for my maize cake from Nai was loaded with symbolism for me. So was taking the photo I have included here. It’s one of my favourites. This Kimokouwa mother must also have access to nutritious food if she is to raise a healthy baby.

Earlier in the week, when Steven could actually sit for awhile to talk about the work we are sharing in, he described the Small Business Development leadership course his organization, LOOCIP, is running in Longido. It is almost identical to the Community Based Organization (CBO) model our friend, Masam, instructed us in a year ago. It works like this: A group of people come together with an idea for raising money to improve their lives in some manner. One person is chosen to attend the training course once a week for six months, costing about 7500 shillings or about $7.50 U.S., per session, with each person helping out with the cost. Shared among 10 people the cost is not cumbersome. Participants learn how to write a group constitution, identify goals and objectives, set a budget, access materials they will need, determine a market, identify obstacles and strengths, and project income and expenses. Everyone in the group must be involved in the process. Once the plan is accepted by LOOCIP, the group can receive up to $1000.00 to be repaid within one year, including a very small rate of interest. The money is then used as start up funds for another new group.

When Project TEMBO’s original women’s groups were set up, it was our intention that they be instructed in the CBO model. Now that a program has been developed this will be possible. Existing women’s groups, and any future ones, will take this course so a firm foundation for their business is in place. Helping people realize their dreams; this, too is part of life continuing here.

So is the Longido Community Library, which Project TEMBO supporters have provided seed money for and are helping to build, one book at a time. Steven proudly showed me the small room that he hopes will one day house 1000 books on yet-to-be-built, wooden book shelves. The library will contain all kinds of books to challenge and inspire every age group. It will be a resource center for students and teachers. Books to compliment an adult literacy program will be available. Money donated has been set aside to train and pay the salary for a librarian. People here know that education changes lives. Students who have received post-secondary education are role models in the community. It is the one thing most requested when you are approached by someone: Will you sponsor me to go to school? It is books that open up a world of ideas and possibilities and options that everyone can have access to.

Imagine, all this thought coming from watching a truck of mostly animal feed roll out of town.

The villagers who were given cameras so they could be photojournalists for a day came back with stories to tell through their images. Some of the subjects included:

Happy school children
Crowded classrooms
A Coco-Cola cooler
Donkeys carrying heavy burdens
Women waiting in line for water
Inside a boma
Lone figures on dry landscapes
A child playing near a dead cow
Relief aid being delivered

There is a grainy quality to the photographs since the only disposable cameras I could purchase in Ottawa were 800 ISO. I think it adds to the stories the villagers are telling. Understandably, there were a number of “missed” shots since some of the participants had never even held a camera before. But I am pleased with the outcome of this first photojournalism project in Maasailand.

I will be visiting projects near Mt. Kilimanjaro for a few days before returning to Longido. I will post another entry along the way, as I pass through Moshi. Following this entry I will post a few more photos.

Food For the Villages

I awoke before my alarm was due to go off at 5:45 a.m. Steven would be here by 6:30 a.m. sharp. Though I was tired, I took the time to pack my duffle bag before going to bed while the generator was running and we had power. I told Youster I would not need hot water. She did not need to get up early just for me. I would shower in Arusha at the Lutheran Center. Baraka had slept in the guest house, too, so that Steven only had to make one stop. I made sure he was awake then went about packing a final few things.

Steven arrived at 6:20 a.m. surprised to find us wandering around out front enjoying the “white stomach morning with white teeth”. The previous night at supper Steven explained the meaning of the phrase to the ADP, LOOCIP, and TEMBO members who had gathered for supper at Mama’s. The conversation was in Maasai so much was lost in translation, but I got the essence later. If you wake up just after sunrise to a soft white sky on the horizon and smile broadly (exposing your white teeth) because the new day makes you happy, then it is a white stomach morning with white teeth. Today was just such a day, we all agreed, as we set out on the 100 kilometer drive to Arusha.

The first few minutes we were silent, wanting to appreciate the beauty of the scene as the sun rose in the distance behind a clear Mt. Kilimanjaro. About 15 minutes into our journey we were suddenly surrounded by a herd of six or eight twigas – giraffes – up early as usual for breakfast. One dashed across the road only a few meters ahead of us in long loping strides. The day couldn’t possibly have begun more perfectly. I was awestruck by the African morning unfolding all around me.

By 7:15 a.m. we began passing children on their way to school walking along the roadside. Those attending government schools wear blue and white uniforms. We passed children wearing bright shades of green, red, brown, and yellow as they made the long journey on foot to private schools. It occurred to me that this colourful wave of children was doing the most important thing they could possibly do to positively change the course of events in their own lives and their country – go to school each day.

We arrived in the already-bustling city at 7:40 a.m. in time for breakfast. We had come to withdraw TEMBO money for project work from Steven’s account, transferred from Ottawa before my departure. The bank did not open until 8:30 a.m. Inside the restaurant we lined up along a wooden counter containing circular trays of different foods under green plastic covers, typically eaten for breakfast by the local people. I chose a delicately sweetened maandaza, and two samosas and ordered coffee. Baraka had a kind of deep fried bread with a boiled egg inside of it. Steven tried to convince me of the wonders of chicken soup for breakfast, as he enjoyed his broth and piece of chicken breast, commenting that it must have come from a tough old rooster. He followed this with a generous bowl of local fresh fruit.

We did not have to wait long at the bank and in no time, Steven was on his way back to Longido for a noon meeting with LOOCIP to do strategic planning for the next five years. He dropped Baraka and I off at the Lutheran Center and after we checked in and got our keys, we took a taxi to the bus station to await the arrival of the bead makers from Longido and Kimokouwa. We had arranged to meet three of them at 10:00 a.m. to go shopping for a supply of beads that would be used to create Project TEMBO jewelry. We found a seat near the giant Coco-Cola bottle that serves as a good landmark for a meeting place. I knew 10:00 a.m. could be noon or 2:00 p.m. so I settled in for the wait.

By noon the women had arrived. Baraka took us to a place to have some lunch and we used the opportunity to talk more about which jewelry designs each group would do. I had a piece of sweet bread and a soda, as did Baraka, and Nai from Longido. The two women from Kimokouwa had plates of cooked bananas with some pieces of meat and potatoes in a thick sauce. They ate slowly. I wondered if their plates of food might be enough to feed families of six back in the village. Were they eating slowly because they enjoyed the food or because their stomachs were not accustomed to such a rich amount?

Nai knew where the beads could be purchased and led us to a shop within walking distance of the congested bus station. The women took their time choosing from the many shades of reds, blues, greens, and yellows, and I suggested adding more black beads and a pretty lavender colour. They added strands of clear plastic they needed for the bracelets and dangly silver additions for the earrings. Each group now had a good supply of “community beads” that would last them beyond my visit.

The Kimokouwa women got into a dala dala to return home. Nai offered to accompany us on our search for food supplies. She introduced us to a woman who had beans to sell and we walked down an unpaved, uneven mud road then slipped between two buildings and into a warehouse loaded with white sacks. A man pierced the sacks with a sharp instrument in order to extract a few beans for us to examine. We took our time. As usual, the conversation was in a language I did not understand, this time Swahili. Baraka whispered that Nai was a good business woman. I was content to stand back and let her work her magic. There were many types of beans and different qualities. We wanted something good and, as the right beans were chosen and a price agreed upon, eight 100 kilo sacks were labeled ‘TEMBO’ with a green felt tip marker, ready for pick up the next day.

We were next given directions to an area where we could find feed for the chickens and goats. It was not within walking distance so we took a taxi to an area consisting of many warehouses. Walking up and down the rough road, we dodged between large trucks either being serviced because they had broken down or waiting to be loaded up with their cargo. We found a good quality feed for laying hens called “Super Chick” which I thought was appropriate for Project TEMBO chickens. I mused that it was probably also the name of a dala dala somewhere out there on a Tanzanian road. Goat feed took longer to find because we needed 44-50 kilo bags. After three stops, an East Indian businessman told us to come back at 10:00 a.m. and the feed would be waiting for us.

We made our way back to the bus station and I gave Nai the fare to return to Longido. I hopped into a taxi to go back to the Lutheran Center and Baraka went onto the next task – finding a lorry to transport our food to the villages.

Listening to the People

After our breakfast of chapattis and coffee, Baraka and I went out to the road to wait for a dala dala to take us to Kimokouwa. I swore I would steer clear of this means of transport this trip after nearly being killed during last year’s visit. I have done pretty well but it is nearly impossible to get from A to B without using some form of public transportation unless you have your own car. I figured a short distance couldn’t be too eventful.

There were only a few people in the run-down white van called “Sweet Babes” when we were picked up. But in Tanzania, you never pass a potential fare on the road. Soon the vehicle began filling up as we stopped to pick up Maasai carrying wood and other things it is probably best I don’t know about. I think I counted 14 people in the re-fitted van made for 12. Not bad today, I thought, with only a few kilometers to go. Then more people in red started coming out of the bush and were hustled inside. Another stop, then another stop. We must have been 20 or 22 people riding in the sardine can before Baraka and I got out at the Kimokouwa stop. Unbelievable, really. It’s like an assault on your physical space and it happens all the time here.

We made our way on foot towards the village about a kilometer away for our pre-arranged 10:00 a.m. meeting with the bead makers. While we were waiting for them to show up we explained the photography project to the Kimokouwa photographers who were eager to participate. Then we stopped in to Kimokouwa Primary School so I could see the principal, Mr. Meikas. He is a good man who has really turned things around in the school since taking over four years ago. The number of students passing qualifying exams for secondary school has increased significantly. My visit included doing some troubleshooting since the principal felt some of his graduating students had been overlooked in the TEMBO sponsorship program this year. After listening to his side of the story, I said TEMBO would pay sponsorship money for four more students. We left the school and climbed the hillside to visit Baraka’s family boma and when we returned the bead makers were gathered, about two hours later than expected.

The chairman of the village council, whom we have met on numerous occasions, also arrived. I explained that Project TEMBO had raised money to help the bead makers. I showed the bead making materials I had brought from donors in Canada and explained that we would help them build a banda if they made jewelry I could buy back from them for a fair price to sell in Canada. As with the Longido women, the bead makers wanted to have ‘community’ beads to work with so I agreed we would set a time to purchase some in Arusha.

We next talked about how we could help a group of women wanting to sell produce. The chairman thought that the village should concentrate on bead making rather than branching out with another group. With signs of the drought everywhere, I then suggested that the $500.00 U.S I had brought for the produce group could be used to buy food for the villagers. A spontaneous round of applause erupted, accompanied by big smiles. A discussion in Kimaasai ensued while I sat observing faces. The chairman announced the women wanted beans since the children needed to have protein.

Last on the agenda was funding from Canadian donors to begin another goat group. Could we support the existing one instead, asked the chairman. I agreed with his wisdom. As with the Longido chickens, the goats have not flourished either. Food would help. Alright, we could use the money to buy the 11 women food for their goats as well as add one or two goats to their herds, I replied. Everyone was happy.

We got around to doing some bead work for the next couple of hours using our Canadian supplies and some of their ‘personal’ beads. I wanted to see what the women could do. They were not as creative or proficient as the Longido women. Kimokouwa is more isolated and a totally Maasai community. Longido is a mixture of Maasai and ‘Swahili’ (their term.) The women have never had a banda to sell their work so they have not invested in making designs for others. I realized they would need to create simpler pieces. Baraka later suggested that we ask some of the Longido women to help the Kimokouwa women so they would feel more confident about their work. Great idea.

I concluded Maasai women must be among the original multi-taskers. Every second one had a baby with her while she beaded. Babies were passed from one woman’s breast to another’s. Kokoyai, pictured above with her husband, Philipo, is one of the bead makers who arrived with her son Lebahiti. Marian and I first visited Kokoyai in 1998, when she was 10 years old, and because of that visit Project TEMBO was born. Baraka said Kokoyai was smiling as he took the photo because Philipo, who is holding my hand, commented that he now had two wives. That is not why I am smiling.

The chairman, who told me he can also be referred to as “honorable councilor”, accompanied us to the road. We crossed over so he could show us the area he felt would be ideal for the banda. It was near a road that is used for the Cultural Tourism program. I agreed it would be a good location. It had scrubby brush on it and the chairman asked when the women could begin clearing it. I respectfully asked if this was something the men could do while the women made the jewelry. Absolutely not! But they would be around just in case any advice was needed. Apparantly another crazy mzungu idea on my part.

We waited for two hours in the sweltering sun before a dala dala came our way. Please, God, not another crush of bodies on the way back to Longido. My prayer was answered. We were picked up by an empty safari vehicle on its way back to Arusha. It had electric doors and nice seats and no rust anywhere. This was a sweet babe. As we drove down the highway the driver occasionally opened his window and threw bottled water to Maasai boys walking on the roadside. Baraka had told me that some safari companies were using the extra water their clients leave behind to help the Maasai herders during the drought.

Since we hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast, we opted for an early supper of rice and beans at Café La Mama’s. Then I headed directly up the hill to the guesthouse, debating whether I was ‘toasted’ or ‘fried’. I couldn’t remember ever being this tired before.

The Solar Tea Party

I awakened early but not before Youster had my water warming over the fire. I took my green container outside and used a blue plastic pitcher from the house to scoop out enough hot water to fill the basin half way. I topped it up with water from the drums on the verandah until the temperature was just right. In the shower room I poured a pitcher of water over my head then lathered with the biodegradable shampoo bar I brought with me. I rinsed, then repeated the procedure. My hair squeaked. Next I drizzled water down by body then used my bar of oatmeal soap and gently scrubbed all over with my hands. Yesterday’s dust washed down my body as I rinsed from head to toe until all the soap was flowing through the small hole in the floor. I felt completely fresh to begin the day. O blessed water in a time of drought. Why do I use so much water in Canada when so little is needed?

After breakfast Baraka and I stopped by Nai’s house. I purchased fresh eggs from the Project TEMBO chickens her family is raising. I paid 200 shillings – about 20 cents - for each egg, which is more than I would pay in Ottawa. I bought five and we headed to the guest house so I could set the solar oven up so it could pre-heat while I was making the cake. No mixing bowl so I used one of the two pans that came with the oven to mix the maize meal, sugar, salt and baking powder with a teaspoon. In one of the three plastic measuring cups I brought with me I stirred the eggs, oil, and water then added this to the dry ingredients. After kneading the mixture with my hands I put it into the lightly greased clean pan, covered it then took it out to the oven sitting in front of the guest house. For the chai I combined milk, bottled water, and sugar then sprinkled a generous layer of tea leaves on top. It only needed a few minutes to cook so I would add it to the oven later.

While the maize cake cooked I stayed near the house knowing the strange looking object out front would attract curious visitors. First some children came over, pointing and laughing as they saw their reflection in the silver panels that reflected the sun into the oven. They were followed by two Maasai warriors. I did my best to explain what was happening using lots of hand gestures and a few English words. I knew what everyone was thinking: What a crazy mzungu (white person)!

I had arranged for the Longido camera group to meet at the guest house at 2:00 p.m. Baraka and I had chosen 12 villagers to participate in a project idea I brought with me. I wanted the people in our villages to tell their own story through photos – theirs, not mine. To do this I brought along 12 disposable cameras. Today’s meeting was with the Longido group, to be followed by one in Kimokouwa. Baraka translated as I explained that I wanted them to photograph anything they wanted to tell the people of Canada about their life in Tanzania – what makes them happy or sad, what they dream or hope for – it was entirely up to them. Next we explained how to use the cameras. Some were familiar, others had never seen one before. We took our time making sure everyone understood how to use their camera then reminded them they needed to return the cameras to us in 24 hours. Now it was tea time.

I had added the chai to the sun oven before we began our meeting so it was ready to serve. People from the ADP came over to join the photographers. Only one minor problem – no cups. They were locked in a room in the guest house and we had no key. I brought a travel mug from Ottawa to use in my room and found another plastic mug in the house. And we had the three clear plastic measuring cups. These would have to do. I washed them in soapy water then began pouring. Wow! It tasted just like chai. Then I uncovered the cake and everyone was completely amazed. I did a spontaneous happy dance. It looked fabulous. As I began cutting it with my only utensil, a teaspoon, it began to crumble. More moisture and maybe one more egg next time. Experimentation would be necessary since solar cooking is different that conventional cooking. But the flavour was great and I was pleased. My first solar tea party was a success. (In the photo above Baraka and Joe, from the ADP, sample the chai.)

In the evening I was invited to supper by four women from the U.S. who had come to Tanzania to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. Part of their climbing itinerary had changed because of the recent mudslide on Kili, so they had come to Longido to do a cultural tour of Maasailand. They were interested in the work Project TEMBO is doing and wondered how they could help the people, too. They also had good questions about how education will change the Maasai culture. We had a good discussion about providing, not imposing, options, and about things in Maasai culture that many Maasai themselves believe need to be changed. Like FGM. Afterwards the women walked me up the hill to the guest house and in no time I was settled into bed.

The Chicken Groups

We live so close to nature here. Cows and goats meander around the property at will, their dung remaining where it falls until it decomposes. Chickens are everywhere, too. Last night the moon was so bright that we did not need to use flash lights to find our way home. I feel completely comfortable and safe here.

After a restless night, I awakened at 6:00 a.m. to the sound of birds squabbling and cowbells clanging. The rooster had already cock-a-doodle-dood at 4:55 a.m. Without opening my curtain, I wandered into the bathing area and did my best to freshen up using some precious bottled water. Then I dressed, walked down the hall and opened the front door. A blackened pot of water was being warmed on a fire – just for me, for my morning bath. I smiled. Youster, assigned to care for me during my stay, was not visible but her handiwork was. I should have opened the curtains.

I wrote for awhile and then Baraka arrived about 8:30 a.m. and we walked down the hill, through the village, and across the paved road to Café La Mama’s, about 10 minutes away. I looked forward to Mama Frances’ chapattis, coffee and steamed milk that I had enjoyed a year earlier. Baraka introduced me to Joseph, Angel, Sagnin’o and Gabriel from the ADP. They are great people who live with uncertainty about their futures once the ADP phases out of Longido. Steady good work is a gift here.

Ndinini, the director of MWEDO, arrived in their white land cruiser bringing some supplies for the banda. Since the iron pipes were not part of the delivery the fundi cannot begin work until they are brought out on Friday. We met with the women, explaining that they would need to make some jewelry for TEMBO as their part of the contribution to the cost of the project. Ndinini also explained that TEMBO had brought money to begin a new Chicken Group and they might consider who among them needed extra income the most. They will prepare a list and give it to me this week.

After Ndinini left, Baraka and I toured the village, visiting the women who belonged to the first Project TEMBO Chicken Group. Before we left Tanzania in 2005, we left money with MWEDO for the groups to begin. Each of ten women received $50.00 to buy whatever supplies she needed to build a “chicken boma”. Most are a combination of a little wood, some chicken wire, and scrap tin roof pieces. Some were able to afford a few red bricks. They were encouraged to help each other with the construction. When the bomas were completed, the women went to Arusha and chose any combination of 10 roosters and chickens they wanted. (Nai, one of the Longido leaders, is pictured above with her chickens.)

In visiting the women, Baraka and I discovered they were having some difficulties, partly due to the drought. The chickens were not producing enough eggs and new ones were struggling to survive. I asked what the problem was and was told the chickens could not find enough food. Because the women had not received feed as part of the original plan, the chickens were let out to wander during the day making them easy prey for snakes and hungry dogs. They also needed some medication that must be kept refrigerated, which made it impossible for the women to keep. I suggested that TEMBO purchase a 50 kilogram sack of chicken feed for each woman and that if the chickens were fed a healthy diet they might not require medication. The women agreed to try this and we promised to have the feed delivered as soon as possible. I left feeling sad about the rough shape some of the chickens were in but knew the women were doing the best they could with what they had been given.

Before supper, Baraka took me to a small duka or store in the village, across from the Vatican City Bar. I needed a plastic container to use for my “bucket shower” and for doing laundry. He chose a bright teal colour for me. Then we purchased the supplies I would need to use for my first attempt with the Sun Oven on Wednesday. I decided to try making chai and maize cake, a sweet cornbread. The recipes were from a website I located while still in Ottawa. We purchased tea leaves, sugar, milk, oil, maize meal, baking powder, and salt. I would forego the raisins and lemon peel. I decided to leave ugali, a Tanzanian staple food, for another day. When I explained to Baraka that the solar oven would cook ugali in 2.5 hours he broke out in roars of laughter, saying Tanzanian women cook it in 15 minutes. Okay, I said, but they must stir and flip it constantly to keep it from burning and the pan is difficult to clean afterwards. Cooking it in the solar oven means a woman can go off and do something else instead of standing over the fire. Baraka could see the wisdom and I could see the humour.

At supper that night, we talked about the new oven with the ADP staff. People had not heard of cooking with the sun and could not imagine the sun could bake a cake without being hooked up to anything – not even a solar panel. I explained why I had brought the oven from Canada: more free time for women; less time spent walking great distances looking for fire wood; conservation of an already seriously depleted environment; fewer respiratory infections in women and children; and no risk of children falling into the fire. And the fact that the sun shines here for about 11 hours a day for most of the year makes it an ideal appliance for Tanzania. Everyone could see the benefits and value – it just seemed too good to be true.

Angel was now referring to tomorrow’s event as the “Solar Tea Party” and I invited everyone to the guest house at 2:00 p.m. to sample chai and cake. Then I remembered I had forgotten to purchase the eggs. Not a problem. I knew exactly where I could get some in the morning.

A New Home

Mary from MWEDO and their driver threw my morning off by being so un-African and arriving on-time for our journey to Longido. I was expecting a call on my cell phone about 9:30a.m. saying they were on their way but, no, they arrived at 9:00a.m. sharp. Luckily I had packed before I left to find an internet café to upload another entry. I’d had only half a cup of coffee in my room. They waited while I hurried to the Bamboo and picked up two samosas for myself and water to go for all of us.

Some fields just outside the city still looked damp from yesterday’s rain, but as we drove on the dust in the fields swirled and only got worse as we approached Longido. We passed one Thompson’s Gazelle and a few donkey. In the distance on the hillsides children were grazing cattle on what little scrub there was. The drive was pleasant and quiet since Mary and the driver were mainly Swahili speaking. I did ask Mary what had happened to Penina, the Community Development Officer from MWEDO we had met with last year. We received word of her death in November. Mary said Penina had ulcers and suffered for about the last month before her death. She was hospitalized for three days, then died. I felt her absence keenly on Friday when I was at MWEDO offices.

We stopped at the ADP to drop off my things and call Baraka so he could begin his duties as my translator and guide. He was so thrilled to see me and could not hide his great broad smile as he approached. We decided to go in search of the fundi, since we had met the Dean of Students from Longido Secondary School on the road and were told this would not be a good to visit the school. We picked up the fundi at Café La Mama’s and headed to the banda site. A dozen bead makers of various ages were stringing beads in the shade under the rustic wooden stands where jewelry was displayed, and they rose to warmly greet us. Then coco, an old grandmother friend, arrived and gave me a big warm hug. It was so good to see her again. She looks the same: strong, weathered, head shaven, and happy wrinkles around her eyes. Familiar Maasai smells of sweat and dung hung on the air.

The new banda will be built directly behind the old one. The present banda will be taken down so the road can eventually be widened. Some of the materials from the old structure will be re-used around the new one. The new banda will be approximately 10 meters across and 5 meters deep. The fundi explained how he would build it and I asked the women if they were in agreement with the plans. They vocalized ‘yes’ seeming to understand my question. I told the women that the fundi agreed that the new structure would be completed by the time I left, in six weeks, and they began clapping together. I said I would stop by regularly to see the progress and take photographs.

After a lunch of rice, beans, and some meat, Baraka walked me to the ADP about 3:00 p.m. I needed a siesta. The guest house I am staying in is located on the grounds of the World Vision Area Development Program (ADP) compound, just inside the entrance on the right. I have the entire building to myself. One day it will be able to accommodate eight or ten people but for now only two rooms have single beds in them. The walls are completely unadorned and the cracked cement floors unpainted. There is a feeling the place is in transition, just like the ADP. Cement bags and building materials are scattered throughout. No matter how often the place is cleaned, a light coat of dust covers everything. The spacious living room area has two wooden sofas and a chair with bright red cushions. The bathroom is divided into two: One side has a porcelain toilet in the cement floor that would flush if there was water flowing into the tank but there is not. I will manually flush by throwing water into it. The other is a bare cement room with a metal shower head above and a small hole in the floor for drainage. Here I will have a daily “bucket shower”.

The cement veranda in front has two oil drums on it. One looks like it is used to mix cement. The other has some water in the bottom. I assumed it was for mixing the cement until two Maasai warriors wheeled a cart full of yellow plastic water containers to my door, emptying them into the rusted water drum. This was water for washing my clothes and my body. A red brick tower is being constructed near the veranda. Soon – perhaps even during my stay - it will hold a large black poly tank for collecting rainwater and the drums will no longer be needed.

More rice and beans for supper at Mama’s and I settled into my bed for the night under the most amazing roof of stars I have ever seen.

Drought

I am back in Arusha until Sunday and will use some time to get caught up on journal entries. First the setting, which is a harsh backdrop, and then I will back track to my arrival in Longido.

Longido cries out for water and food. It is impossible not to feel compassion for every living thing you see. How long has this area been without rain? Eight months? Ten months? It is evident everywhere.

The Maasai have taken their cattle many miles away in search of sustenance. Still carcasses litter the landscape, having never made it to their destination. Dozens die each day. Closer to home goats must stretch higher and higher to reach anything green on the bushes. Dogs are lethargic. Chickens find few scraps on the ground. And baboons who, I am told by the Cultural Tourism guide, survive because they can eat anything available, are dying on Mt. Longido.

But the people, the amazing resilient people of Longido and Kimokouwa rise again each day and look hopefully skyward. They are used to being put to the test. It takes the women longer and longer to return from Mt. Longido with water. Still they make the journey each day, colourful buckets atop their heads and babies on their backs. Everyone walks a little slower.

Trucks from Arusha carrying water arrive regularly now. It is important that the schools are able to provide food and water for those in their care. Enterprising citizens with trucks arrive from the city selling blue containers filled with water – 20 liters for 200 shillings (about 20 cents.) A caravan of government cars toured the area and took little time concluding that food aid was needed. Sacks of maize arrived two days after the visit, enough to help people in the short term. The people pay 60 shillings a kilo – less than 10 cents - to help offset the cost of transportation. Dr. Steven Kiruswa has prepared and sent a proposal for assistance to every relief organization he knows.

All of this has meant that our project plans be adjusted and resources re-directed. Flexibility is essential. I am both fortunate and embarrassed to have options these people cannot imagine.

Preparations For Longido

Today, Sunday, is my last day in Arusha for awhile. Steven just called to say he is in town visiting a prisoner and wants to get together around 1:30 p.m. There is nothing that man doesn’t do. When I saw him a two days ago he mentioned how really excited everyone is about the new library. I can hardly wait to go on a shopping spree with him to purchase books.

There is another good news story in this week’s Arusha Times about the opening of the Free Library in the village of Imbaseni, near the Arumeru district.

In addition to having books in both English and Kiswahili on a wide range of subjects available to students, teachers and the local people, the library also offers programs. Each Monday there is a children’s program. The morning program is for pre-school age children and the afternoon is for students in primary school. In each session, a book is read aloud and an activity is offered to the children that is related to the story they have just heard. On Saturdays, primary school students are taking part in a “book writing” program where they are writing their own books, creating their own illustrations and eventually binding their books. The library will have a copy of each book on the shelves for others to enjoy.

Definitely some ideas Longido will be interested in hearing about.

My small room on the third level (second floor) here at the Lutheran Center has been my home for the past 7 days. I have gotten into a nice rhythm. I rise about 7:00 a.m., get dressed, make a cup of coffee then get to work on my lap top. About 9:00 a.m. I go downstairs to the Bamboo Café usually for coffee with steamed milk and a chapatti. Often someone joins me. Then it is back up stairs by 10:00 a.m. to finish writing and checking through photos for the journal entry. Next, I check out internet cafés for availability. Yesterday I tried out four before eventually uploading my entry. The most reliable one for me is the CyberNet on India Road, a stones throw from here.

Everything takes time. It is impossible to go directly from “A” to “B” in Tanzania. Everyone says hujambo mama or shikamoo, stops to talk, or wants to sell you something – newspapers, shoes, jewelry, batiks, fruit, candy, or countless other useful or not-so-useful things. Today I purchased some small bread baskets from an older woman on my way home. They match some Marian and I picked up last year. They still smell deliciously of the fresh grass they were made from.

Next, I sometimes check in on old friends, exchange money, do laundry, or read. About 1:30 or 2:00 p.m. I go to the Sidewalk Café where the girls usually make me a small sandwich – I like the chicken tika - which I have with water. Then it is time for a siesta until about 3:30 or 4:00 p.m. when I make a cup of chamomile tea and return to my lap top to continue writing about events I am seeing and experiencing here in the city. Around 6:00 p.m. I walk over to the luxurious Arusha Hotel – where some of the lawyers from the Rwanda War Crimes Tribunal stay - about a two minute walk away, to read from Finding Our Way, Meg Wheatley's book, while I sip on a cold Kilimanjaro lager. The setting is relaxing. Comfy chairs, quiet enough, and nice gardens all around. At 7:00ish I order supper from their snack menu. It is inexpensive and just enough. One night I had an ‘Arusha Burger’ with fries; on another, a ham and cheese and pineapple sandwich and fries; last night, pasta with some kind of hot sauce on it. I still steer away from unpeeled fruits, vegetables, salads, juices and ice cubes - something we were advised to do during our first visit in 1998. It may not be necessary in fine establishments like the Arusha Hotel, but I don’t want to take chances. If it is not cooked, I don’t eat it. The last thing I want is to be sick here. I drink water…lots of water. About 8:00 or 8:30 p.m. it is dark and I walk directly back to my room. Security guards are visible on Boma Rd. but still no stopping or chatting. A little more writing or reading then my light is out by 10:00 p.m.

When I arrive in Longido tomorrow morning, my schedule and activities will be very different, so it has been important to ease my way into life here. Tonight I will re-pack and organize a bit, though I did a lot of that when I unpacked last Tuesday. Instead of having two really heavy bags and a solar oven to transport, I have a four manageable bags. In the morning when Mary arrives from MWEDO, I will pick up my fruit from the ladies at the corner and stop to buy a case of drinking water, then I am off for the next stage in my visit. I hope to have a moment to upload this entry.

I have just returned from having lunch with Steven and another man from Longido. We were joined by the Tanzania coordinator of another local NGO doing AIDS education with girls, I think in a mining area. He has heard of the work TEMBO is doing from MWEDO and knows it is not about the animal ‘tembo’ (Swahili for elephant.) I said, yes, this is true but that we do hope to slowly grow to be as big as a tembo.

We briefly touched on many things:

1. Steven reported the sad news that our friend Baraka’s cousin just died very suddenly – a young boy just beginning Form 1 (grade 9) – food poisoning, they think.

2. In doing research for his letter to request food assistance for his people, Steven says about 25 cows are dying every day due to the drought. One man had lost 350 head of cattle, another 300, others 50 and so on. It would be like going bankrupt, only there are no other saved resources to fall back on.

3. There are two options for the new library: one is a building adjacent to Longido Primary School another is a room at the World Vision ADP (Area Development Project) area, since World Vision is gradually pulling up stakes and will be gone by September. I suggested the location at the ADP might be more appropriate since one of the goals is to encourage adults to use the facility. Steven agreed.

4. Steven is not teaching in Nairobi this year because he is so involved with LOOCIP (Longido Community Association) the organization replacing World Vision. He is disappointed that World Vision is not more involved with the transition process and the training of leaders who will now be responsible for the running of community programs. It seems there was no provision for this stage in their budget.

5. Steven says there is a kerosene stove at the ADP guest house for me to use to boil water to wash with. He wants me to set up the solar oven outside the ADP guest house where I am staying, and was thrilled to hear that the oven will also take care of water pasteurization. If we can get this working well while I am here, Steven will ask a group of friends from the U.S., coming for a visit at the end of June, to each bring an oven along with them. I have a recipe for ugali and a sweet cornbread cake I will try, as well as other recipes for meat and vegetables.

As I write this, there is the sound of thunder outside accompanied by the sweet smell of rain. Just a bit, but it is RAIN! What a welcome aroma. I am off to Longido in the morning and I hope some rain will come along with me. I took this photo on the grounds of the Arusha Hotel today after the rain, one of the places in town where the surroundings are quite lush.

"New" Technology Trial

There was much news in this morning’s Arusha Times, unfortunately, mostly all bad. More about lake Manyara drying up; the growing food crisis; deeper power cuts; and now a warning about an “imminent disaster” – there is a pestilence of armyworms as deadly as locusts on its way to northern Tanzania. They are talking major disaster here by clouds of small caterpillars. They will not only devour whatever is left in the fields but they threaten to kill the cattle, too:

Pastures infected with pests often release high levels of cyanide poison gas as a self defense response to the armyworms attack. When animals graze on the affected pastures, chances are that the fast working cyanide will kill cattle, goats, and other animals in the space of a few hours after the initial consumption of the chemical in the grass.(Arusha Times)

Last night in The Guardian I read about the first case of bird flu hitting the continent, in Nigeria. This would certainly be the final straw, totally wiping out livelihoods. I wonder, how much tragedy can one country, one continent take. And yet the people here are so patient and almost uncomplaining: they wait for the rains to come; they wait for the food to arrive.

This morning Robert and Kosiano were waiting for me at the Bamboo Café. When I arrived they had just ordered coffee and it was still sitting there, hot and not yet whitened by the steamed milk. They had no money. I asked how they would pay for their coffee. Would I help them, please? Robert said, yesterday I had money and that is why I wanted to buy you breakfast. Today I have none. Okay, I said, I will pay today and then another day you can pay for me. Our bill today was 2700 shillings – 3000 with Pricilla’s tip. It is always good conversation, especially with Robert. Today we spoke about environmental degradation and deforestation in Tanzania and it was only 9:00 a.m. Then Robert said he had a big question to ask me when I returned from Longido in eight days. I wonder what it will be?

Yesterday at MWEDO, Ndinini and I talked about a new chicken group and goat group. She was thinking that, because of the drought, maybe the women in Kimokouwa would have better success with chickens. Unlike Longido, where the population is somewhat mixed, Kimokouwa is strictly Maasai. Would they go for it, I asked. Ndinini immediately picked up my cell phone (hers had no time left on it) and called one of the women in the village. When the conversation ended she said, no, they want goats. One of the staff who overheard our conversation came in and suggested we do the “Value Added” project with them. Essentially, it would be to give goats to a group of women, rather than individuals. They would buy them young when the price is low, fatten them up then sell them at the end of the season for a higher price. Each woman would get a share of the money and the rest would be used to purchase more young goats. I told Ndinini that this is exactly the kind of project TEMBO wants to support.

Next we spoke about the solar oven I brought along. Ndinini, herself a Maasai, believes it is something made for her people and that, with education, they will want to use it. Her first comment was about how much of a difference it would make to the women not to have to spend the day looking for firewood, a commodity that is becoming scarcer and scarcer. She can see the ovens being used to generate income for a group of women by selling bread, for example. It could be set up near the new banda where someone could also sell a Maasai drink that can withstand being out in the heat. On Tuesday, when Ndinini arrives, we will have a meeting with Steven, the community leaders, and the village MP to discuss this and other things. I will suggest that we visit a site in Kenya, near the N’gong Hills, where solar ovens are manufactured using local materials. I hope to have a dish cooking in the sun while we meet, ready to taste once the meeting is ended.

It is Saturday afternoon and that means one thing – it’s wedding day. I think I have counted five, so far. Each procession of vehicles, led by one carrying a brass band and a thumping drum playing loud happy tunes, weaves their way through the downtown area and around the roundabouts. Here comes number six right under my window. Can you hear it? The cars are decorated with white cloth and ribbons and there is sometimes an open-back truck filled with guests. Tanzania celebrating a happy occasion. Thankfully, there are such times as these.

Many people I passed today commented on how I looked. I was wearing a favourite shirt Mr. Tailor made for me last year – a black shirt with blue fish all over it. There were calls of hey, Mama Canada, I like your blue fish. To compliment this I wore a colourful “buff” I purchased at Bushtakah in Ottawa to cool my sweaty head. And a pair of large silver circle earrings I purchased from a woman on the street this morning for 3500 shillings. One of my woman-seller friends adjusted my head cover to make it look more African, I guess. Proper fashion is a learned thing. The people love it when we adopt parts of their culture.

I must confess to making a huge faux pas on Friday. I am glad to be reminded of it again, early on in my visit. I know people always want to be asked before having their picture taken and I did not observe this unwritten norm. I wanted a photo of the women fruit-sellers on the corner and thought I could get it from a distance, without being intrusive. So coming out of the Lutheran Center (pictured above), I stood between parked cars and shot a few photos. One of the women, however, did notice me. I walked across the street and she immediately held up her hand to indicate “no”. I felt terrible and set out to explain my intention as I walked toward them. I sat on the curb next to them to talk. The one who objected understood a little English and there was a man near by who offered to translate. I explained that I wanted to tell their story – what happened to them the day before with the city officials – and I would like a photo to take back to Canada to do this. Many women would want to know this story, I said. If you want a picture first you must buy a mango, said one. Another asked, show us a picture of the women in Canada who want to know about us. I said I would send them one. I apologized for not asking their permission first. Then I explained that I was the woman who purchased 150 bananas from them for children’s party last year. They remembered. I was their friend. Yes, they agreed. I asked if I could buy some fruit from them to take to Longido on Monday. Could they prepare me a bag worth 5000 shillings – pineapple, mangoes, oranges, and bananas. Yes, they would have it Monday morning at 9:00 a.m. All was well again. Whew! Was I relieved.

Updates and New Plans

I entered the Bamboo Café next door for a quick cup of coffee and a chapatti before heading over to MWEDO offices for my 10:00 a.m. meeting. Someone called my name and I turned to see Robert, the street vendor, having coffee and a doughnut with his brother. He offered to buy me breakfast and I declined. Priscilla took my order, brought my food and I talked with the guys about how I could help his brother find a sponsor to become a tour guide. The six month course is $400.00 U.S. and then there is a field placement (not sure of this cost.) I told them what I tell everyone else who asks for sponsorship: Project TEMBO works in Longido and Kimokouwa only but I would be happy to put their photo on the blog and tell people about them. They are happy with this compromise.

I asked Robert if he had seen the disturbance by the gas station yesterday, and he had. Talk about getting it wrong. Here is what happened. It seems the city is cracking down on street vendors and is trying to get them to sell their wares in marketplaces where, Robert says, there simply is no room. I mentioned that three women sell fruit at the spot where the mob gathered yesterday. I took the above photograph of them this afternoon. The fellow in the red shirt was one of the bylaw enforcers who was trying to confiscate the women’s fruit because they were doing something “illegal”. The people were yelling and creating such a mob scene around him because they were defending the women. Power to the people. Yes, I favour underdogs, especially people who are simply trying to eke out an existence.

I looked up from our conversation and over at the counter and couldn’t believe my eyes. It was Steven Kiruswa from Longido waiting to pick up a package. I ran over, tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a great big hug. What a thrill to see him again! He reminded me that a room was ready and waiting for me. I asked Steven about the situation in Longido and he said it is very bad. Cows are dying and there is little food. He said he would talk to me about a proposal he was in the middle of writing for food aid - large scale food aid. He intends to send it out to whom ever he can. I told him Project TEMBO could offer some very small assistance in the short term and he was grateful for this. We said goodbye, agreeing to meet again the first of the week. I returned to the table finished my coffee and then went to the counter to pay. Priscilla made out the receipt – 2700 shillings. I thought it a bit expensive for what I had, but gave her 3000 shillings anyway, with the change for a tip, then left to meet John the taxi driver. It was only later in the day, when I took another look at the receipt before filing it away, that I realized Priscilla had charged me for what Robert and his brother had eaten as well. We’ll talk, Priscilla.

My three-hour meeting with Ndinini at MWEDO went very well. I got caught up on the both joyful and turbulent events of the last ten months: Ndinini giving birth to a new son, and two of her young Community Development Officers dying in unrelated, non-AIDS related circumstances. Marian and I had met and worked with both Penina and Raphael during our 2005 visit and knew what a void their deaths would have left in the organization. I also met some of the new staff who have been hired. Ndinini has suggested I go to Longido on Monday and one of the staff, Mary, will drive me. I welcome the chance to talk with Mary during the one hour drive.

The 12 new girls are now enrolled at both Longido Secondary School and a second school in the area, bringing our total to 14 sponsored girls. I hope to meet with all of them this week. Solomon Lekui is the young man applying to attend Patandi Teacher Training Institute for admission in July. Solomon has completed teacher training, which is a pre-requisite for entrance at Patandi, where he will study to become a teacher of the deaf. He is very enthusiastic about this opportunity. When I see Steven, I will get updates on the other teachers-in-training.

Most of the 10 Longido women raising chickens are having great success. Only two are struggling a bit. Eggs seem to be a big hit, being sold locally for 200 shillings each. Ndinini is surprised that people are paying this much for one egg. She thought if they sold for 100 shillings each the women would be doing well. I will get a report on the goat project in Kimokouwa next week. Generally, goats are having a more difficult time due to the drought.

The rebuilding of the Longido banda is timely. When a structure has been built too close to the road or must move for any other reason, it is marked with a large red ‘X”. The old banda has been so branded because it is dangerously close to the road. Ndinini presented me with a list of materials and the cost to re-build the Longido bead makers banda. Donations and fundraising by TEMBO will just about cover the cost. I will buy jewelry from the women to make up the shortfall. It will be a new structure made of red bricks and cement with wood supports and a red tin roof. Nearly all of the materials will be available locally, with only a few items, like paint, needing to come from Arusha. It will be set off the road and Ndinini would like to eventually see some native plants and trees along a pathway to the banda. The women have chosen a local fundi or workman to do the construction. He will begin on Tuesday once he receives money for the materials. Someone is making two new signs, one for the road and another for the building. It is an exciting time for the women and I am looking forward to watching the progress over the next few weeks. If I can get in there with my hands, without breaking any Maasai cultural taboos, I’d love to help with the work.

I presented Ndinini with a business plan by which the Kimokouwa women could generate money to build their banda. It’s a simple idea: the women make jewelry using ear hooks, wire, and some simple decorations TEMBO is supplying, along with their own beads. I buy them back from them, for a fair price, before I leave. They have money to build their banda – hopefully $1000.00 - and we have jewelry to sell in Canada generating money we can put back into projects. The women would also be able to sell this “new” jewelry to tourists. This is also how the Longido women will top up the amount required for their new banda.

More from our meeting in the next entry…

Life in the City

Yesterday I was exhausted by the end of the day. In large part it was due to the relentless pursuit of the street vendors. Everywhere I turned, they seemed to hover around me like a swarm of bees, refusing to take no for an answer. They are part of the fabric of life here and really add to the colour of Africa. It is important to find a way to be courteous, yet firm and clear; if you indicate any indecision you will become easy prey. It is always a problem re-learning this each time. In Canada, we are used to a lot of personal space. Here there is no such thing. No one thinks twice about approaching a complete stranger. I hate to be cynical, but strangers are probably viewed by street vendors primarily as opportunities for sales. In the photo above, Kosiano, in the center, and I are visiting the batik designer, on the right. Kosiano does not hassle me anymore because we are now "business partners"...so long as he holds up his part of the deal.

Before I had even left my room this morning, Lazaro was outside in the hall with the message that a woman was in the entrance way waiting to see me. Here at the Lutheran Center, the door leading up to the hostel rooms can only be opened with a key, which is welcome extra security. I hurried past the can of “Doom: Fatal Kill” sitting on a stand outside the bathroom door and down the stairs. It was Mama Janet from St. Constantine’s School looking for a package I had brought from her sister in Canada. We chatted a bit, she helped me fix my cell phone, and I agreed to be in touch once I figured out my schedule. I promised her sister, Dora, from the Tanzania High Commission in Ottawa, that I would visit her “old mama” who lives between Arusha and Moshi, and Janet will take me there.

Wow! This was a little unsettling. I am writing this in my room and it is 4:40 pm. The sound of voices gathering above the noise of traffic grows and grows. I open the curtains and below my window, near the corner where Boma Rd. meets the Clocktower, someone in a red shirt, in the middle of a mob of people, is getting pretty roughed up. Then, to add to the drama and mayhem, a car backs into another one, the driver probably distracted by the scene. (Do they have insurance here? I don’t know. Many cars couldn’t possibly qualify.) Crowds have gathered on both sides of the street and are overflowing onto the road reducing the already congested traffic this time of day to a single one-way lane. It looks like there is a security officer or policeman in the tangle. Then a large truck carrying people pulls up and the man is hoisted up and thrown over the side and into the open back, while others are trying to pull him down. Next a large sack of grain is thrown in, followed by three or four boxes of fruit and vegetables. A few more men climb in on their own and the truck drives off, a killing averted, I am sure. The location in on the edge of the Oryx Gas station where three women regularly sell fruit each day. Was he moving in on their territory? Did he try to snatch something he shouldn’t have? Who knows, but everything is back to normal now.

After Mama Janet left, I decided to stop and see some bead makers around the corner, on my way to confirm some March safari dates with Lisa at W.S. Safaris. They weren’t there. I had time so decided to stop in to see a man I call “Mr. Tailor” because he made Marian and I some shirts a year ago. His shop had been closed yesterday when I passed by on the way home from the batik makers with Kosiano. It was still closed so I went into the shop next door, knowing the shopkeeper and his wife were related to “Mr. Tailor”. I was stunned to hear that our friend had died three months ago. The doctor thought it might be his heart but tests did not indicate this. He was put on heart medication anyway, but died. He was not quite 50 years old, a warm man with a pleasant smile and manner. I asked about his wife and was told she has been observing a Muslim ritual since her husband’s death. She will stay within the walls of her home until March 16. Luckily that is just before I leave Tanzania so I will be able to see her again, this time to express my sympathy.

I stopped in at the Sidewalk Café on India St. for a small, totally unhealthy but tasty pan-fried doughnut, since I had only had coffee in my room before leaving. I had not seen this café before but I knew I would definitely be back. It is quaint, very clean, freshly painted pink with white wooden tables, and the two young women in the small open kitchen were engaging. Nice to support women in their business ventures.

After booking the safari, Lisa, at W.S. Safaris, recommended I get some cream for the flaky skin on my elbows at a nearby pharmacy. She told me the name and said it cost 60 shillings and that it had really worked for her. Later, on my way to the pharmacy on Soikine Road, I was greeted by an older man who insisted on accompanying me. He saw, from the tag on my back pack, that I was from Canada which prompted him to begin listing off places in Canada he knew: Manitoba, Vancouver, Toronto, Ottawa, Quebec. I was impressed! No one here has ever heard of anyplace other than Toronto, Montreal or Vancouver. Seems he attended secondary school as a child and loved geography. Then he began to quiz me, as we wove our way through the crowded street, on my knowledge of basic Swahili. Do you know what karibu means? Welcome. What does asante sana mean? Thank you very much. How do you say water, I asked? Maji, he replied. I was glad for his company, since we ended up going to three places I would never have found on my own before finally getting the cream for 1000 shillings. I checked the expiry date before we left.

I have been reading a book called, Finding Our Way – Leadership for an Uncertain Time by Margaret Wheatley. I am taking it as a gift for Dr. Steven Kiruswa in Longido, from two Project TEMBO supporters. It’s very inspiring and I will suggest that Steven loan it to Ndinini at MWEDO when he is finished reading it. Steven and Ndinini, both founders and directors of organizations that we partner with, are keen to develop leadership and promote empowerment among the Maasai. Here is a passage I read last night:

The path of self-organization can never be known ahead of time. There are no prescribed stages or models. “The road is your footsteps, nothing else,” as the South American poet Machados wrote. Therefore, leaders begin with a strong intention, not a set of action plans. (Plans do emerge, but locally, from responses to needs and contingencies.) Leaders must have confidence in the organization’s intelligence. The future is unknown, but they believe the system is talented enough to organize in whatever ways the future requires.

Sounds very organic, just like so much of life here. I often wrestle with how to best promote development. There is so much of Western culture that I want to shield Tanzanians from, while still allowing people here to make their own choices. I’ll keep on reading.

Realities

Another sleepless night. It had nothing to do with the bed or anything else external. My inner clock is still adjusting, I guess. I was also awake the whole time on the plane coming over, so it has been a few days of this. Maybe tonight will be different.

I was in the shower by 7:00 a.m. It is 8:00a.m. now and I am already sweating. More sun and no sign of rain here. John the taxi driver said there have only been two brief periods of short rains so far this season, with the long rains not due to arrive until the end of March. The dry conditions here are brutal. John says I should bring a case of water to Longido and I must admit to feeling very awkward about arriving with water for me while the people have none. But I know I must do just this.

I imagine I will be deluged with an ocean of needs once I arrive in Longido and Kimokouwa. (Why does my mind use water metaphors during a drought?) I do not know what I will do – what I can do - in response to the suffering and needs I will see.

The city streets are wide awake and active now. Packed safari vehicles are heading out with excited passengers who have traveled here from afar to see the natural beauty in the national parks that is astounding. Taxis speeding everywhere in the hope of snatching early morning fares on their way to appointments. Local people on foot heading for their spot on the street to set up their wares for the day. Soon the colourfully garbed women will arrive with baskets of fresh fruit atop their heads – pineapples, mangoes, avocados and bananas. The street hawkers, of course, have been working since daybreak and will chase down tourists until night fall offering watches, batiks, maps, beads, day or two-day old newspapers – anything that can be carried around.

It is now 2:00 p.m. I had my 10:00 a.m. meeting at the Bamboo Café with Kosiano and Robert. Robert had a muffin and coffee, Kosiano a tall glass of mixed fruit juice, and I had a samosa and coffee – 4000 shillings, tip included. Priscilla was our waitress and she was so happy to see me back. My conversation with the men went as I expected it would. Kosiano is looking for someone to loan him $3000.00 U.S. to build a curio shop on the road to Lake Manyara. I listened, knowing there was little I could do. I promised to put their photo on the blog site and tell their story. Kosiano has five children and Robert two. Neither has any secondary school education. Both have learned English on the street and are very smart men.

I returned to the Bamboo for lunch. Priscilla suggested I order the special, chicken marsala with rice and mixed vegetables. All I have been hearing about is the drought and food shortage, which made it difficult for me to finish this generous meal. I decided to save half for a “take-away” and give it to one of the street vendors. Kosiano’s face appeared in the window and I invited him in. He had already had something to eat but used the opportunity to float a business proposal while he had my ear. Would I buy ten large batiks for him costing 7000 shillings each, which he would then re-sell for anywhere between 15,000-25,000 shillings and return my loan to me. He would take me to the warehouse to see them. After listening, I was impressed with his business plan and looked for an opportunity to help him. I offered to give him 21,000 shillings for three as a start and if he sold them and paid me back, I might consider “investing” more money with him. He was happy with the deal and promised to succeed. We will go to the warehouse at 4:00 p.m. today to see the batiks. I told him he was sworn to secrecy and must not tell the other vendors. As we were ready to leave, John walked in and was happy to share the other half of my meal for lunch.

The cell phone I purchased on Tuesday was still not working. John and I went to the CELTEL office – the maker of the phone card I was given – but were simply told the network was having difficulties and to keep trying. I needed to get in touch with Ndinini at MWEDO so decided to pay her husband, Tom, a visit. Tom works in the same building as I am staying, just up a different staircase. I knew he was in the CUSO office on the third floor, since we had visited him a year ago. He was happy to see me and, after getting caught up, he called Ndinini at her office. It was nice to hear her voice again and we agreed to meet at 10:00 a.m. at the MWEDO office on Friday.

Tom said Ndinini had just returned from a visit to Longido and the situation is quite desperate. I asked about the possibility of having a water truck go up to fill the large storage tanks that are used to catch rain water. He said trucks were making deliveries in the city but that it would be too expensive to drive 100 kms. since the cost of gas is so high – 1130 shillings per liter. And, water is also becoming scarce in the city. I also asked about the feasibility of purchasing goats and chickens for our women’s groups if the animals would be at risk of dying. Tom said that chickens and goats can survive the drought because they are smaller creatures. Larger ones, like cows and some big animals in the national parks, are dying because they require lots of grass to eat each day and it just isn’t there.

The government, and its new president, Kikwete, are trying to see that food gets to the people who need it most. Kikwete is also lifting the tax on food so that it costs less for people to purchase but, even at that, food staples - like maize, which is used for ugali - are scarce because there have been no rains. I am anxious to talk to Ndinini and Steven about how our project money can best be used during this crisis.

I kept my 4:00 appointment with Kosiano to visit the batik warehouse, located near the Arusha International Conference Center (AICC), less than a ten minute walk from the Lutheran Center. The warehouse turned out to be a small, unlit, crude ‘workshop’ where batiks are actually made. The designer explained the process to me as we watched some of the workers at their craft. It made me appreciate the many hours that go into producing one batik. Designs are stenciled or hand drawn on a piece of clean white cotton. Areas not to be coloured are waxed. Then colours are applied in layers, one at a time, then set in the sun to dry. When the wax needs to be removed it is scrubbed off so another colour can be applied. In the final stage, the wax is ironed off between layers of newspapers. When we arrived, some were hanging on a line drying among some corn stalks and banana trees and the designer allowed me to take some photographs. But the photograph I really wanted to get we had passed on our way in. A man was hammering nails into a simple wooden coffin. If I wanted this photograph I would have to pay. I usually don’t pay for photos but this was one I wanted so I gave him 1000 shillings. Outside the gate I was able to shoot a couple of frames of a coffin that had just been painted brown and was decorated with ribbons, looking like it was waiting to be picked up. The size appeared to be small. Another reality that is all too common here.

Familiar Surroundings and Friendly Faces

I had contacted Monica, the co-coordinator of the Lutheran Center, by email before arriving. She was happy to see me, as was the ‘security’ man sitting at the desk by the front door, and Lazaro, the man who does his best to keep the place clean. After checking out the first floor (second level) room Monica assigned me next to the bathroom, I asked if I could switch to the upper level and have the room on the end, farthest away from the bathroom. No problem with her but it meant I had to drag my luggage up another flight without the help of Samwel. As I was dragging my duffel bag down the hallway, a young woman emerged from the room across from me. Turns out she is a reporter with the Toronto Star who is spending the week at the Rwandan War Crimes Tribunal. We chatted for a few moments while I caught my breath. I hope to run into her again, maybe for coffee, to expand on what I told her about my reason for being here.

My new room is perfect. It is at the front of the building which means I might get a bit of a breeze. Not during afternoons though. I need to keep the lined drapes closed because of the sizzling midday sun. I look out at the notable ‘Clocktower’ in the center of a roundabout a few hundred yards away. The sign says this is the geographical center between Cairo and Cape town. There is also a post with more than a dozen colourful directional signs pointing to places of interest like the Serengeti, Ngorongoro Crater, and Nairobi. The room is Spartan but clean. It could use a paint job but it is definitely not in my plans this trip. The small single bed is long over due for a new piece of foam but the sheets are clean and bright blue. There is a heavy blanket on the bed, should it get a little too drafty, I guess. The closet has ample space for hanging clothes, with a dozen or so pretty distorted hand made hangers, but they do the trick. A couple of shelves are below and a mirror on the inside of the door. There is an extra heavy blanket, should the temperature drastically fall. No air conditioning or fan but a good screen on the window which means no mosquito net is needed. For five dollars a day it is a deal.

It took me about an hour to get settled in. I emptied my duffle bag onto the bed and could clearly see why I barely made it through the KLM weigh-in in Montreal. Three quarters of what I was carrying was for the Longido and Kimokouwa bead makers and Steven’s Adult Literacy library. My personal belongings made up the rest. I re-arranged the gifts into two good sized black zippered bags I had brought along, then hung some of my things in the closet and put the rest back into the duffle bag that sat on top of the solar oven box by the door. Next I set up my laptop on the small wooden desk and ran the cord to the power bar I purchased at Two-Twenty Volt in Ottawa a year ago to deal with the different sized outlets in Tanzania. Now I needed a drink of water.

Just out front I was greeted by two street sellers we had gotten to know last year, pictured above. One of them immediately called me by name and both of them wanted to talk. Kos wants help with a small business he wants to start in Lake Manyara, Robert with his batik business. We arranged to meet tomorrow at the Bamboo Café at 10:00 a.m. for coffee. Next I found John, the taxi driver, and began a conversation about where to get a cell phone. We checked a store nearby then drove to Shoprite to compare prices. On the way John told me he had a new two-month old baby. Another boy, which makes three. No more children in his future. I purchased a phone for 114,000 shillings, a CELTEL chip to activate it for another 1,500, and a phone card to use it, once it is fully charged, for 5,000 shillings. Inside Shoprite I bought three 1.5 liter bottles of cold water and two 500 ml bottles. One I drank as I walked around the store and the other I gave to John. I picked up a small can of Africafe instant coffee, a box of African chamomile tea, and some matches for use in my room, and an eight-roll package of toilet paper to bring to Longido. The total came to 9,900 shillings. John dropped me back at the Lutheran Center, grateful for the 5,000 shillings for his time and the use of his car. His number will be the first I program into the phone.

I dropped the supplies in my room and headed across the street to the Jambo Coffee House for a spicy bean-and-avocado-filled chapatti and more water for lunch. It hit the spot. Met more friends from last year while I was looking for an internet café that was not filled with mzungus (white people). Out of the blue someone was calling after me to stop. I turned around to see ‘Peter the cook’ from our safari last year. He was thrilled to see that I had returned. Just as he was about to take me to the new location of the W.S. Safari office, out jumped Lisa Fernandez, manager of the company, from a passing SUV. We hugged and the three of us walked to the office together. It is, quite literally, a stone’s throw from the room I slept in last night. After a short visit that included looking at camera phone images of Lisa’s new son, I left promising to return on Thursday to book our March safari. There was no power in her office due to rotating blackouts that are occurring in Arusha. Lisa says there is not enough water to produce the necessary electricity. Today’s blackout in her area was not scheduled, which can only mean the concern over the lack of rain is growing.

Back in my room I pulled the drapes and rested for an hour or so before beginning a journal entry. I pulled out my new heating coil to boil water in the “Bunny Thymes” travel mug I had packed. WOW! Does it work fast. I had hot Tanzanian coffee in under 60 seconds. At 7:20 p.m., just after the time darkness falls every day of the year, I headed back to Jambo’s for curried veggies and rice and a cold Kilimanjaro lager. Then off to the lobby of the New Safari Hotel to upload my entry and then ‘home’. Though it is dark, I remain within a block of the Lutheran Center and feel safe because there are security guards on the street. I am staying in a part of the city where the airlines offices and the Tanzania Tourist Board are located across the street, as well as banks, telecommunication companies, and many good hotels.

The one thing I failed to pick up today is a pair of flip-flops for going to and from the bathroom and shower. I was headed for a street vendor who was selling them on the corner when Lisa and Peter appeared. They are on my list for tomorrow. In the hotel bathroom last night the shower curtain had happy hedgehogs all over it. None here at the hostel. But there is hot water and flush toilets in the three shared bathrooms on each floor. I will get over the hedge hogs.

Arrival

Tuesday, Feb. 7

It feels as though I have never left. Everything is the same here in Arusha, including the dry heat. This will be a kind of sub-theme running through all that I see and experience this trip. Already I have heard comments like, do you know the snow cap on top of Mt. Kilimanjaro has melted; and so many cattle are dying because there is no water and people cannot even afford to buy them.

This is my fourth visit to Tanzania in the past eight years. People Marian and I have gotten to know here feel like ‘our African family’. Last night, after quickly making it through customs at the airport by giving the agent a pocket knife I had brought exactly for this purpose, I opted to take a taxi for the 55 km. ride into Arusha rather than the Impala Hotel shuttle bus. The wait for safari-goers to find their luggage was something I did not want to endure after spending nearly 24 hours getting here. So I bargained with the taxi drivers outside the terminal who converged on me making offers. Thirty dollars mama; okay twenty dollars. No, thanks, I can take the shuttle bus for ten. Finally, here is my taxi mama, I will take you for fifteen dollars. The driver was nice, his white car was clean, and most of all, I felt very safe, so I knew I would pay him twenty dollars even before he dropped me off at the front door of the New Safari Hotel.

Thankfully, there was room inside and the woman at the desk remembered me from our visit last year (“And where is your friend?”). Yes, she could give me the special rate I requested of $55.00 U.S. rather than the usual $75.00. I was shown to room 312 overlooking the back parking lot/courtyard and India Rd. The room was not air conditioned but the window had a screen on it and there was a fan. Everything was spotless, the was mattress firm, the towels white and plush, and there were four or five stations on T.V. to choose from as I got ready for bed. As a British soccer (football, here) game played in the background, I decided to do very little since I would move across the street to the Lutheran Center in the morning. I ate some crackers I had saved from the plane and drank the small bottle of water that had been provided, remembering to leave enough to brush my teeth in the morning. I was restless and did not sleep much but it didn’t matter.

I heard the Muslim call to prayer just before 5:00 a.m. then turned the fan off so I could hear the birds getting up, too, making different sounds than the ones I was used to hearing in Ottawa in the summer. After a hot shower, I walked down to the dining room and chose a hard boiled egg, two beef sausages (more like small hot dogs), whole wheat bread that I toasted, and was brought coffee with the traditional steamed milk, as it is served here. It’s like having a latte only without the froth. I spotted a bureau de charge across the parking lot and wandered over when I was finished to get some U.S. dollars changed into Tanzanian Shillings. The exchange was about the same as it was a year ago – 177 shillings to the dollar which meant I would be able to stretch my budget a bit farther during my seven week visit.

After paying for my room at the front desk, I arranged to have Samwel, the hotel porter, help carry my things across the road in two trips, then up the stairs to my room. My duffle bag weighed a ton and the solar oven I brought along was in a big awkward box. I gladly gave him two thousand shillings (about 2 dollars) and thanked him for his work. I looked forward to getting settled into what would be my Arusha home base during my stay.