Kirongaya Secondary - Usangi

Mike Sayers January - February 2008

Everything's new

When you volunteer in a developing country for the first time you know things will be different, but not necessarily how they will be different. Here are a few differences that have made an impression on me.

First class travel

My experience of the buses starts with my journey with Leonard from Arusha to Usangi (the location of my teaching assignment). The moment we enter Arusha bus station, we have a couple of young men descending on us, wanting to help us find the right bus. Leonard responds to them, but strides on. Others join in and before long there are half a dozen milling around. I tuck in behind Leonard and fortunately am largely ignored. Leonard knows exactly where to find the bus and so needs no help. Before long we are on the bus, but it strikes me that this could be somewhat intimidating if you are on your own. I am also concerned that this will be very tame compared to Moshi bus station, described by my Bradt guide as 'a descent into hell ... one of the most hellish in Africa', because of all the hassling from men anxious to secure a commission by getting you to their bus. Fortunately, when I get to Moshi I find it has been cleaned up; it is well organised, with bus lanes labelled with their destinations and the hassling pretty low level.The bus leaves Arusha for its first stop, Moshi, at the advertised time (0900), which I am soon to discover is not what should be expected as the norm. The bus driver has his own technique, making liberal use of his horn and coaxing some quite impressive speeds out of a bus that must be 30-40 years old. I start to understand what the Rough Guide means when it describes the Arusha-Moshi highway as 'extremely perilous, and the antics of the average driver are enough to kick in visions of your life in flashback'. We get to Moshi safely, however, and then onto Mwanga where we get on a daladala for the final leg of the journey to Usangi. You are told that daladalas go when they are full. Well, the truth of this depends on what you understand by 'full'. In this, my first experience of a daladala, when it is full (ie all seats taken) it waits for more people ... and more. Finally, when you couldn't possibly pack in any more people, the daladala leaves ... and then stops after a few hundred yards to pick up some more people ... and then stops again to pick up some more. In the end a daladala with 12 seats carries 26 people, plus assorted plastic bags, handbags, boxes and a smallish suitcase or two. This I subsequently find is the norm for daladala travel. One my most recent trip I found myself sitting on a stool (no back) with the man behind's knees for my backrest, a young girl sitting on my lap, and, out of the window to my left, two legs dangling from a body sitting on the roof.The good thing about the daladalas is that by contrast the buses start to feel luxurious. The bus journeys I take from Usangi to Moshi in the weeks that follow I regard as a superior form of travel - positively first class!

En-suite facilities

My first taste of a volunteer's accommodation, at the Flamingo in Arusha, is basic. My second taste, at Usangi, is extremely basic. The difference is to be found in the bathroom, which, in Usangi, comprises a long-drop toilet and a bucket shower. The long-drop requires certain changes in technique which I need not go into. A bucket shower is also not quite as straight-forward as I first thought. On my first night I mix into the basin all the hot water from the kettle with a suitable amount of cold water, and soap myself with it. This leaves the water in the basin soapy, making it very difficult to rinse myself properly. On the second day I refine my technique, using only half the water from the kettle when soaping, emptying the mixture down the long-drop, and then using the remaining half for rinsing. This was an improvement, but I must remember to remove the soap from the basin before pouring the soapy water down the long drop. Fortunately I have another bar of soap.

Table manners

Lunch is provided at school. At lunch time two of the girl students arrive in the staff room to assist. Their first duty is to go round the table pouring water over each member of staff's hands for washing prior to eating. I watch carefully and manage to wash my hands using this method without embarrassing myself. On my first day the meal is ugali and some meat stew. I notice that only mine is served with a spoon. I enquire and am told that the other teachers eat with their right hand, not with cutlery. I suggest that I do the same and after a lesson from one of the teachers I proceed to eat without the spoon. I feel I am doing well, but my efforts produce much amusement. At the end of the meal the form is to walk over to the two students to get your hands washed again. Again I manage this, by observing the others and copying.

At the butcher's

One Saturday I decide to go to Moshi on my own. The landlord's son, Saidi, offers to escort me down to the bus stop. Just before we get there we see a few men with a cow. Saidi tells me to walk over with him to the group and get my camera out. It becomes apparent that they are about to slaughter the cow. I take pictures while they tie the cow's legs and get her into position. The next step is to slit the cow's throat. The blade is sharpened and the deed is done. To my surprise I stay around to the bitter end and capture the final act. Not how it is done in England, but certainly very swift and for all I know as humane as in the abatoir.

Off-putting?

These are some initial impressions of mine of how life is different here. What is the volunteer to make of them? I imagine different volunteers react differently. However, if you enjoy volunteering, then it is likely that such differences will appeal. They will be the experiences that make it all so interesting - the things that teach you about the new country and the things that provide the little challenges that are sent to test you and which give satisfaction when you learn to handle them. All this is, of course, before we talk about the challenges of life in the classroom. Here too there is much satisfaction to be had, but it is not to be easily gained I have found.Notwithstanding my focus above, volunteering is not only about challenges. With most of these differences accommodated, Bela and I have now turned our attention to incorporating life's little pleasures into our existence in the remote Pare Mountains. For a little while now a bottle of wine has been a mendatory item on the shopping list for Moshi. This weekend we have refined our dining experience. We start with an aperitif (some of the wine) drunk with Bela's supply of cashew nuts. Then comes Mr Ismaeli's wonderful food, washed down with some more wine. What is missing now is a cup of coffee to round off the meal; we will buy some. In our imaginations we are re-running the colonial life style. No doubt, it is nothing like things were in those days, and perhaps we shouldn't even be thinking of aspiring to anything colonial, but it all adds to the experience.