Tom Miles January - February 2009
I am writing this sitting in my office in Leicestershire looking out of my window at a grey cloudy and cold day. Only a couple of weeks ago I was in Maji Ya Chai, a village about an hours daladala ride from Arusha, looking out of my office window onto the garden with a laden pomegranite tree in full 36 degrees C sunshine.
It all started with a mid life crisis. An ambitious plan to throw in everything I have, and head off around the world by motorbike, condensed into an achievable aim of a six week adventure with the spin off benefit of doing something worthwhile for my fellow man. After much internet searching I discovered Mondo Challenge and duly headed down to Newbury to find out what opportunities they might be able to offer. I was willing to go anywhere in the world where I could do something useful in a 6 week period starting in January. This is a time when I could get away from my business without too much damage. After a very useful chat Tanzania became my chosen destination. I confess that I knew almost nothing about the country! The main reasons I chose it were that it offered a chance to help with business development as opposed to teaching and that I was told working there was a challenge…red rag to a bull!
Arrival
To be perfectly honest I did not have any idea what I was going to do in Tanzania until I got there. There had been a lot going on in my life in 2008 and I had decided to leave this adventure to fate. (If you are not so trusting to fate as I was, I strongly suggest more in depth research before you go.)
Reading back through my journal (thanks to my girlfriend Clare for suggesting I write one) I see I was very surprised how easy everything was. I promise I have not succumbed to African corruption when I say that Mondo Challenge do a good job for the money. No hassle in Nairobi, the bus leaving for Arusha from almost outside the hotel door. Friendly helpful people everywhere. (I found that throughout my time in Tanzania polite greetings in Kiswahili followed by firm but friendly refusal to buy the product or service I did not want, led to some lively and interesting banter about life in general on the streets of Arusha or wherever.) The induction process was not as painful as it sounds and the first few days melted away all but two of the main apprehensions I had. The BIG ones still were ‘What am I actually supposed to do? And am I capable of doing it’?
The moment finally arrived when I travelled with Leonard from the Mondo office to meet my boss and homestay host Mr Mafie. We met at his office in Maji Ya Chai. (Usa River is the next town and can be found on Google Earth) I was received like a long lost brother which did not do anything to lessen my apprehension about living up to expectations! Over the first of many many sodas (any fizzy drink EXCEPT beer) Mr Mafie completely overwhelmed me with ‘development babble’ terms I was soon to become very familiar with: Capacity Building, Economic Development Group (EDG) Facilitate, Core Values. Etc.
Let me digress at this point. I mentioned earlier a mid life crisis. Perhaps two years ago I will admit to possibly pre-judging people a little too easily. (loud snorts from ex wife if she read this…luckily she wont) I have learnt not to do this these days, although I have to keep reminding myself! In my previous less enlightened Neanderthal incarnation I probably would have written off Mr Mafie and told him what I thought of him after the first hour of his very long and complicated explanation of the philosophy behind his NGO called Tan-Edaps. Luckily or in Mafie’s view due to Gods intervention I listened and patiently asked questions.
The Homestay
It was with a mixture of confusion, intrigue and apprehension that I headed off up the valley to the village of Ngyeku and Mr Mafie’s house. There was quite a bit of animated chatter in Kiswahili between the taxi driver and my fellow passengers. I do not know what they were saying but the appalling state of the unmade road may well have been of relevance. Cars rarely ventured up this way. I was soon to become intimately acquainted with every little bump of this road as I travelled up and down it on the back of Mr Mafie’s Honda 125 (Clare christened Mafie as Ted ...me being Ralph …for those of you who watch The Fast Show)
Chez Mafie was more civilised than I had imagined it would be. It would not have looked out of place in the Alps. It has views of Mount Meru and Killimanjaro. My bedroom had an en suite toilet!! This was effectively a ‘wet room’ that will one day have a working shower. There was a living / dining room and another couple of bedrooms. The ‘kitchen’ was in an outbuilding. I met Mama Mafie who has the wonderful christian name Happiness and her 2 daughters Neema aged 13 and Esther age 11. All three of these ladies worked extremely hard to look after me. I use the word ladies for the children out of respect. If it was not for their size and the very occasional fun and laughter they had with other children you would think they were adults. They helped their mother with farm work, house work and cooking. They cleaned my shoes and did my washing. **see comments later.
The house did not have mains electricity, we did have a simple solar power system that gave light in a couple of rooms for an hour or so in the evening. All cooking and water heating was done over wood fires contained in simple stoves in the kitchen. I soon began to look forward to my evening bucket of scalding hot water that I could dilute with cold to pour over myself using an old Blueband margarine tub. Luxury. We were on the end of the water supply pipe and so often it had all gone before it reached us! The Mafies had a couple of cows for milk. A calf was born when I was there. Half a dozen goats were led out to the fields each morning. Hens foraged about for food. They have a couple of acres for Maize, Sunflowers or Cowpeas. Often more than one crop in the same field. They had organic vegetable beds and on the hillsides Bananas…sweet and savoury, Mangoes, Cassava, Coffee, Papaya, Passion Fruit, Lemons and Oranges amongst trees growing for firewood. The land is fertile given enough water.
My Work
After breakfast of boiled egg with ndise (baked savoury bananas) chai (tea made with milk) and on good days chapatis we would roll Ted’s bike out of the house and set off down the valley. Restrained acknowledgements were shared with the many people walking, cycling or accompanying donkeys. More energetic waves were exchanged with children either on the road or in the adjacent fields. By the end of my stay I was on ‘waving terms’ with hundreds of people! After a brief sprint along the main Arusha to Moshi highway we would arrive in Maji Ya Chai and the Tan-Edaps office. Our neighbour would usually be in the yard either cooking or attending to her baby. She did not appear to have an indoor cooking area so I am not sure how she coped in the rainy season! The office had no glass in its windows and so various sounds would drift in on the breeze. Children at play, donkeys braying, African wrap or reggae from next door at BIG volumes or sometimes in late afternoon we got the sound of choir practice at the ultra flash, tinted glass, brand spanking new Lutheran Church around the corner. They were very good.
As I said earlier I was not at all sure about Mr Mafies NGO at the beginning. After a couple of weeks digesting the information I gleaned from him and visiting many people in all areas of the community I realised that Mr Mafie is a very good man with some very sound ideas. He has good links with the key ‘movers and shakers’ in Government, the Church, schools and farmers / business people in general. What he lacked was focus, business skills, contacts, a plan and possibly most importantly a realistic vision for the future capabilities of his NGO. Not much work for me to do then!
To cut 6 weeks of solid work short for the sake of keeping the reader awake I feel that I had achieved more than I would have ever thought possible. I had helped Mr Mafie to set realistic targets for Tan-Edaps, facilitated a new website, started a structured approach to capacity building, initiated a networking program and re-structured the organisation to allow Mafie to access opinions from key contacts more easily. I wrote clear summaries for his project proposals and re-wrote the Tan Edaps philosophy and mission documents so they could be understood more clearly. I decided that as I had started so many things moving I should remain in touch. I regard myself as an unofficial employee. I managed to get involved in many projects from trying to supply electricity to Ngyeku , using donkey power to collect rubbish, building an orphanage, expanding broiler chicken production, making soap, planning an infant daycare centre and visiting women with HIV to check how they were coping with microfinance loans. All in all a fantastic experience.
** Women of Tanzania
I would like to take this chance to comment on the inspirational women I met in Tanzania. I got to know Mama Mafie, Esther and Neema from my homestay. I guess they would be typical of women in a stable family group. They worked tirelessly and without any complaints that I was aware of. However I was told that myself and Mr Mafie were the Babas (Fathers) of the household. We were the ‘bread winners’. It was the women’s role to look after us. Mr Mafie and I ate our meals at the dining room table. The ladies ate separately in a bedroom. The women did all but the most physical of tasks on the farm. Work began at 5.30 and finished after I went to bed at 10pm or so. In all honesty I think that if they really knew how inefficient and unproductive most men are during the ‘hard day at the office’ they would feel very betrayed.
Most incredible were the single mums I met, many with HIV/AIDS. The sheer guts and determination of these women to raise their children with self generated resources is just fantastic. I think it is my time talking to these women that is my single most cherished memory from Tanzania. I am proud to still be in contact with three such ladies, and I am sure that any resources in terms of finance or knowledge I send them will be multiplied many times in benefit to their communities. I am afraid to say I am not quite so confident that the same can be said for many of the men.
Women of Tanzania. You have my respect.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Longido Primary School - Longido
Emily Reid October 2008 - March 2009
Yesterday it rained and rained and I think it is a measure of how long I have been here that I stood on the porch in wonder and excitement, welcoming the much needed downpour. And today at school some of the teachers say to me that I must feel at home in the cold (it was slightly misty and cloudy). I concur politely, although in reality firstly, it is not very cold and secondly, I feel very at home here already. Admittedly I felt apprehensive about returning to Longido for the start of the new academic year after a fantastic six week break spent travelling. But when Philippa and I got off in Longido (very much the worse for wear as a result of dusty and lengthy journey along a diversion from the main road as a result of road widening) someone ran up to me straight away to greet me with 'Teacher, teacher' and from then onwards, as we lumber back up the very sandy, dusty hill, children call ‘Philippa’ and 'Emile' (as they can't say my name very well) and run to hold my hand. Despite the fact that Philippa has gone home now, some children are still shouting Philippa, apparently thinking it must be a generic term for a mzungu.
Now, after a couple of weeks, it feels very good to be in Longido again: I was welcomed back to school with beaming smiles from the children, along with the inevitable shouts of ‘Emile’. The new standard four burst into song as I come into the classroom with one of the songs I taught them last year and grin so hard that it looks like their faces will break. It is good to see the teachers as well and very satisfying when one of the teachers says that she is learning so much from me about helping the children to enjoy the lessons and using pictures and props, rather than making them copy from the board. It may not sound like much, but in an educational system dominated by chalk and talk, I feel this is some achievement. With seventy to eighty children in a class it is still impossible to reach all the children and some of them are drowning silently at the back; generally it seems that as long as these stragglers sit quietly, they are left to flounder. This is a particular problem in Longido because it is a Masai village with a large number of the children attempting to learn English as a third language.. In an effort to help a bit I have set up an extra class to help some of the weaker students in standard four at lunch time and although I’m not sure how much learning is going on, those children are relishing the attention, which in a class of so many, they are routinely deprived of.
Thanks to donations from Phillipa’s and my friends and family, we raised enough money towards paint for the dormitories we painted before Christmas, that we also had enough money to replace some of the urine soaked, insect infected mattresses as well. The whole story of purchasing them was a bit of an adventure as we found that the price was cheaper in Namanga (on the Kenyan border) than in Arusha. So armed with the deputy head of the school, we set out last Wednesday to Namanga, which is only about half an hour away from Longido. It was only once there that we realized that the cheapest mattresses we had been told about were over the border in Kenya and that things were not quite as simple as we had anticipated. Any driver we asked said that we needed a document to say that we had paid the correct tax and that we had acquired them legally. Anyway the deputy head went off to speak to customs (for about two hours) while we waited. (As an aside, Philippa mentioned later how impressed she was that I, Emily the rude and impatient, waited so patiently for Mr Mangara to come back. I don’t think I have ever been the most patient person but in the light of this am hopeful that I can go back home a new, patient me.) So two hours later Mr Mangara came back with bad news: He said we were not able to take anything like the number of mattresses we wanted without letters from the district education officer to declare that the mattresses were for a school and various other things we didn't have. At this stage we were very depressed and felt that we had nothing to loose by going and speaking to the customs officials ourselves.
The next hour or two was spent in customs learning about the law on importing goods between Kenya and Tanzania. The official basically said that there was nothing he could do and that we would either have to pay a huge amount of tax or get a letter from the DEO, which would then have to be sent to Dar and could take up to three months. But, just as we had given up hope, he pulled some magnanimity out from somewhere and decided there was something he could do after all: He did declare the mattresses we were bringing in but reduced their value and quantity so that the tax we had to pay was much more reasonable. And so, finally, we crossed the border again with a dala-dala (small, battered mini bus) and purchased forty mattresses (we would only have been able to buy thirty in Arusha because they were so much more expensive). Hurray! Then came the most challenging part of the day, which was squeezing 40 mattresses into a dala-dala. Eventually we managed though and I journeyed back to Longido sandwiched securely in the midst of our new, brightly coloured mattresses but feeling on top of the world. This feeling was reinforced when we arrived at school with the mattresses to a swarm of children who eagerly carried them inside with a chorus of ‘thank you, thank you’. The combination of the paint and the new mattresses has utterly transformed those dormitories; they look like normal children's rooms now and the little people do seem very happy with them, not least, I hope, because they feel valued. On behalf of all those children I just want to say a big thank you to everyone who donated the money which enabled us to achieve this.
I have only two months left in Longido now and time has started to go a little too quickly; I feel like I’m on a treadmill but not in control of the speed and going much faster than I would like to. As you can probably tell, I’m very much looking forward to the rest of me time here; it’s been great.
Yesterday it rained and rained and I think it is a measure of how long I have been here that I stood on the porch in wonder and excitement, welcoming the much needed downpour. And today at school some of the teachers say to me that I must feel at home in the cold (it was slightly misty and cloudy). I concur politely, although in reality firstly, it is not very cold and secondly, I feel very at home here already. Admittedly I felt apprehensive about returning to Longido for the start of the new academic year after a fantastic six week break spent travelling. But when Philippa and I got off in Longido (very much the worse for wear as a result of dusty and lengthy journey along a diversion from the main road as a result of road widening) someone ran up to me straight away to greet me with 'Teacher, teacher' and from then onwards, as we lumber back up the very sandy, dusty hill, children call ‘Philippa’ and 'Emile' (as they can't say my name very well) and run to hold my hand. Despite the fact that Philippa has gone home now, some children are still shouting Philippa, apparently thinking it must be a generic term for a mzungu.
Now, after a couple of weeks, it feels very good to be in Longido again: I was welcomed back to school with beaming smiles from the children, along with the inevitable shouts of ‘Emile’. The new standard four burst into song as I come into the classroom with one of the songs I taught them last year and grin so hard that it looks like their faces will break. It is good to see the teachers as well and very satisfying when one of the teachers says that she is learning so much from me about helping the children to enjoy the lessons and using pictures and props, rather than making them copy from the board. It may not sound like much, but in an educational system dominated by chalk and talk, I feel this is some achievement. With seventy to eighty children in a class it is still impossible to reach all the children and some of them are drowning silently at the back; generally it seems that as long as these stragglers sit quietly, they are left to flounder. This is a particular problem in Longido because it is a Masai village with a large number of the children attempting to learn English as a third language.. In an effort to help a bit I have set up an extra class to help some of the weaker students in standard four at lunch time and although I’m not sure how much learning is going on, those children are relishing the attention, which in a class of so many, they are routinely deprived of.
Thanks to donations from Phillipa’s and my friends and family, we raised enough money towards paint for the dormitories we painted before Christmas, that we also had enough money to replace some of the urine soaked, insect infected mattresses as well. The whole story of purchasing them was a bit of an adventure as we found that the price was cheaper in Namanga (on the Kenyan border) than in Arusha. So armed with the deputy head of the school, we set out last Wednesday to Namanga, which is only about half an hour away from Longido. It was only once there that we realized that the cheapest mattresses we had been told about were over the border in Kenya and that things were not quite as simple as we had anticipated. Any driver we asked said that we needed a document to say that we had paid the correct tax and that we had acquired them legally. Anyway the deputy head went off to speak to customs (for about two hours) while we waited. (As an aside, Philippa mentioned later how impressed she was that I, Emily the rude and impatient, waited so patiently for Mr Mangara to come back. I don’t think I have ever been the most patient person but in the light of this am hopeful that I can go back home a new, patient me.) So two hours later Mr Mangara came back with bad news: He said we were not able to take anything like the number of mattresses we wanted without letters from the district education officer to declare that the mattresses were for a school and various other things we didn't have. At this stage we were very depressed and felt that we had nothing to loose by going and speaking to the customs officials ourselves.
The next hour or two was spent in customs learning about the law on importing goods between Kenya and Tanzania. The official basically said that there was nothing he could do and that we would either have to pay a huge amount of tax or get a letter from the DEO, which would then have to be sent to Dar and could take up to three months. But, just as we had given up hope, he pulled some magnanimity out from somewhere and decided there was something he could do after all: He did declare the mattresses we were bringing in but reduced their value and quantity so that the tax we had to pay was much more reasonable. And so, finally, we crossed the border again with a dala-dala (small, battered mini bus) and purchased forty mattresses (we would only have been able to buy thirty in Arusha because they were so much more expensive). Hurray! Then came the most challenging part of the day, which was squeezing 40 mattresses into a dala-dala. Eventually we managed though and I journeyed back to Longido sandwiched securely in the midst of our new, brightly coloured mattresses but feeling on top of the world. This feeling was reinforced when we arrived at school with the mattresses to a swarm of children who eagerly carried them inside with a chorus of ‘thank you, thank you’. The combination of the paint and the new mattresses has utterly transformed those dormitories; they look like normal children's rooms now and the little people do seem very happy with them, not least, I hope, because they feel valued. On behalf of all those children I just want to say a big thank you to everyone who donated the money which enabled us to achieve this.
I have only two months left in Longido now and time has started to go a little too quickly; I feel like I’m on a treadmill but not in control of the speed and going much faster than I would like to. As you can probably tell, I’m very much looking forward to the rest of me time here; it’s been great.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Hope Training - Ngaramtoni
Sally Dec 08 - Feb 09
Not quite sure why I chose Tanzania. I had up until recently planned to climb Kilimanjaro, but due to some kind of spinal injury which lasted 3 years until this year, I had to put it on hold. I still was stupid enough to pack climbing gear, which I keep moving around in my case to fit in other things. I just haven’t had enough high things to walk up and get fit on, so wander each evening to gaze at Mt Meru when the clouds move away, and it glows pink in the setting sun.
Tanzania is a very poor country, filled with seemingly thousands of organisations and individuals, of every size, shape and agenda, trying to help, build, cure, teach etc.
I am working in the banana plantations, a twenty-minute walk from Ngaramtoni, a squalid township half an hour drive in a packed-full tin box on wheels from Arusha.
Sometimes I help with the bananas but my main task is to train teaching methods in Health Education and HIV prevention to six community volunteers who with a bit of luck may be ready to teach this to all the local teachers.
I live with a local family near to the office and near to the villages which I am involved in. I have a lovely bedroom and we have lovely meals, which for me are vegetarian. Between 6pm and 7pm I receive a bucket of hot water for my bath, which I always need as I am always dirty…covered in dust on the dry days, and mud on the wet days (from head to toe). Toilets in Tanzania are places you go to die, or suffer from constipation, as they are mostly not fit for anything else, though, how lizards manage to live in them I don’t know.
It’s very friendly up here with everyone stopping to talk and shake hands, and test me in all the Swahili and Maasai greetings they have in their languages. Do NOT take out a camera though or you could be beaten with a 6 foot 6 Maasai warrior’s stick. They don’t understand if you want to take a picture on market day they are quite welcome to stand aside so as not to be in the picture. I’ve taken to drawing them in my sketchbook instead as 10,000 Tsh a picture is a bit expensive. Many shopkeepers in Ngaramtoni are lovely people, doing a good job in terribly difficult conditions. I would love to take some home with me a swap them for some of our miserable, unhelpful youngsters at home.
In the region I am working there is plenty of food available, and people have a better diet than most in the UK. It’s all freshly picked, freshly cooked and freshly eaten. No junk. I am told other areas are not so fortunate. I do spend a lot of time trying to figure out why there is so much poverty. There are just so many children, even the poorest have huge families and I believe a tour company in Arusha take tourists to visit a Maasai with 97 children. Isn’t that a great idea to encourage breeding!
I am then told it’s education the country needs, correctly so, but every time a new school is built, it is immediately filled with hundreds more children, and not enough teachers to go round. So if they keep building schools how can it solve the reproduction problem within the next 100-2000 years? How much sorrow, starvation, illness, early deaths will have to happen? I must stop worrying about what to do, as I am not getting anywhere.
Having worked previously in some of the poorest places on earth, I do find it difficult here.
There’s a bar down in Ngaramtoni, called The B.M.W. It’s quite out of character for the town, as it’s clean, with little tables, place to wash your hands with clean water, and a relaxing place to sit on the veranda and watch the world (Ngaramtoni) go by. I’ll just go now and have a glass of Kilimanjaro beer, and imagine I’m reaching the last 5,000 metres.
From Sally, retired Health Visitor, from England, working for 2 months as a Trainer, training trainers to train!
Not quite sure why I chose Tanzania. I had up until recently planned to climb Kilimanjaro, but due to some kind of spinal injury which lasted 3 years until this year, I had to put it on hold. I still was stupid enough to pack climbing gear, which I keep moving around in my case to fit in other things. I just haven’t had enough high things to walk up and get fit on, so wander each evening to gaze at Mt Meru when the clouds move away, and it glows pink in the setting sun.
Tanzania is a very poor country, filled with seemingly thousands of organisations and individuals, of every size, shape and agenda, trying to help, build, cure, teach etc.
I am working in the banana plantations, a twenty-minute walk from Ngaramtoni, a squalid township half an hour drive in a packed-full tin box on wheels from Arusha.
Sometimes I help with the bananas but my main task is to train teaching methods in Health Education and HIV prevention to six community volunteers who with a bit of luck may be ready to teach this to all the local teachers.
I live with a local family near to the office and near to the villages which I am involved in. I have a lovely bedroom and we have lovely meals, which for me are vegetarian. Between 6pm and 7pm I receive a bucket of hot water for my bath, which I always need as I am always dirty…covered in dust on the dry days, and mud on the wet days (from head to toe). Toilets in Tanzania are places you go to die, or suffer from constipation, as they are mostly not fit for anything else, though, how lizards manage to live in them I don’t know.
It’s very friendly up here with everyone stopping to talk and shake hands, and test me in all the Swahili and Maasai greetings they have in their languages. Do NOT take out a camera though or you could be beaten with a 6 foot 6 Maasai warrior’s stick. They don’t understand if you want to take a picture on market day they are quite welcome to stand aside so as not to be in the picture. I’ve taken to drawing them in my sketchbook instead as 10,000 Tsh a picture is a bit expensive. Many shopkeepers in Ngaramtoni are lovely people, doing a good job in terribly difficult conditions. I would love to take some home with me a swap them for some of our miserable, unhelpful youngsters at home.
In the region I am working there is plenty of food available, and people have a better diet than most in the UK. It’s all freshly picked, freshly cooked and freshly eaten. No junk. I am told other areas are not so fortunate. I do spend a lot of time trying to figure out why there is so much poverty. There are just so many children, even the poorest have huge families and I believe a tour company in Arusha take tourists to visit a Maasai with 97 children. Isn’t that a great idea to encourage breeding!
I am then told it’s education the country needs, correctly so, but every time a new school is built, it is immediately filled with hundreds more children, and not enough teachers to go round. So if they keep building schools how can it solve the reproduction problem within the next 100-2000 years? How much sorrow, starvation, illness, early deaths will have to happen? I must stop worrying about what to do, as I am not getting anywhere.
Having worked previously in some of the poorest places on earth, I do find it difficult here.
There’s a bar down in Ngaramtoni, called The B.M.W. It’s quite out of character for the town, as it’s clean, with little tables, place to wash your hands with clean water, and a relaxing place to sit on the veranda and watch the world (Ngaramtoni) go by. I’ll just go now and have a glass of Kilimanjaro beer, and imagine I’m reaching the last 5,000 metres.
From Sally, retired Health Visitor, from England, working for 2 months as a Trainer, training trainers to train!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Hope English Medium Nursery - Ngaramtoni
Bec Bellinger & Lisa Lane - Oct to Nov 2008
Lisa and I have been living with the Kinisi family in Ngaramtoni for almost 5 weeks. The family is lovely and they have all made us feel very welcome and ‘at home’. We are certainly not looking forward to saying goodbye later this week!
We have both been working at Hope Nursery, which is made up of around 40 children (new ones seem to appear on a weekly basis), 2 teachers, 1 Director and 2 local volunteers. The children are aged between 2 and 8, and since our arrival have been divided into 3 classes (primarily based on age). Hope is an English school, which means all classes are to be taught in English. This is quite a challenge because the childrens’ ability to speak/understand English varies greatly. The school has few supplies or resources and this has made it also quite challenging. Before we came to Tanzania we did some fundraising, which had meant that we can help hope with some of these things. Since arriving we have managed to buy a blackboard (originally there was one being shared), a number of books, paper, crayons etc. and later this week we are expecting the arrival of new desks and chairs for the 3 classrooms. Up until now the children have sat on benches and they move to the floor and use the bench as a desk. The school is planning on getting electricity in January, so we have left some money with Mondo to purchaser a TV and DVD player and we will send some educational English programmes over.
The children at Hope are absolutely adorable and it has made our day seeing their eyes light up with excitement when we teach them a new book, song or game.
Despite the various frustrations we’ve had along the way, it has been an enjoyable and rewarding experience. Our only disappointment is having only 5 weeks with all these amazing people. We wish all the current and future Mondo volunteers all the best with their projects and we look forward to hearing all the success stories!
Lisa and I have been living with the Kinisi family in Ngaramtoni for almost 5 weeks. The family is lovely and they have all made us feel very welcome and ‘at home’. We are certainly not looking forward to saying goodbye later this week!
We have both been working at Hope Nursery, which is made up of around 40 children (new ones seem to appear on a weekly basis), 2 teachers, 1 Director and 2 local volunteers. The children are aged between 2 and 8, and since our arrival have been divided into 3 classes (primarily based on age). Hope is an English school, which means all classes are to be taught in English. This is quite a challenge because the childrens’ ability to speak/understand English varies greatly. The school has few supplies or resources and this has made it also quite challenging. Before we came to Tanzania we did some fundraising, which had meant that we can help hope with some of these things. Since arriving we have managed to buy a blackboard (originally there was one being shared), a number of books, paper, crayons etc. and later this week we are expecting the arrival of new desks and chairs for the 3 classrooms. Up until now the children have sat on benches and they move to the floor and use the bench as a desk. The school is planning on getting electricity in January, so we have left some money with Mondo to purchaser a TV and DVD player and we will send some educational English programmes over.
The children at Hope are absolutely adorable and it has made our day seeing their eyes light up with excitement when we teach them a new book, song or game.
Despite the various frustrations we’ve had along the way, it has been an enjoyable and rewarding experience. Our only disappointment is having only 5 weeks with all these amazing people. We wish all the current and future Mondo volunteers all the best with their projects and we look forward to hearing all the success stories!
Friday, November 14, 2008
AWIB & DINKWA - Arusha
Robert Edwards Sep - Dec 2008
What hit me on arrival in Arusha in Sep. were the colours and vibrancy amidst the obvious struggle for daily existence by so many locals. I soon learnt to deal with the hassle on the streets and to enjoy instead the chats you can have with any and everybody, whilst walking, waiting, eating or riding the dalla-dalla around town.
The dalla-dalla is the minibus that runs around town to the villages, but also for the longer journeys out of town. Fares start at 15p. The conductor jingles his change in front of your face as a sign to pay your fare. No words are exchanged. To get off, you bang the inside bodywork and the conductor repeats this for the driver. No words exchanged either. Seating capacity is about 18, but there are flop down seats which block the gangway and room for another 8 or so standing inside the sliding side door. The aim is to keep the d-d brimful, so if you’re standing expect to duck your head and have it nestling in a fat lady’s arm-pit. As the d-d hits the speed bumps or lurches over yet another pot-hole on the dirt road, you get the full whiff and a banged shin. So getting a seat is bliss.
Don’t think about Health and Safety because, as I said, the gangways are blocked by bodies or buckets of tomatoes etc. The conductor hangs out of the window of the sliding door shouting out the final destination, so hoping to find more passengers en route to be scooped up and crushed in. The driver takes pleasure in carving up every other road user, from donkeys to barrow boys, certainly pedestrians and cyclists.
I work as a micro-business advisor on two business projects in and around Arusha and the dusty villages; on one project I have been given a 406 page tome to plough through so that I become knowledgeable about Early Childhood Development prior to conducting field research about it. My other challenging task has been teaching English to adults, my goal being to stop my students using their deeply ingrained –i endings, as in “I’m justi coming”.
Walking the streets I have felt safe, even though in my village as the only Mzungu (white person) 1,000 eyes follow me, the children calling out “Good Morning, Mzungu”, even late afternoons. I once had qualms as I was surrounded by a group of Maasai men in full tribal regalia wanting me to sniff snuff with them. I was able to decline and, wondering what they wear beneath their loincloths, got the complete answer later from a blast of wind in the street. Mzungu are not allowed to roam outside after the dusk curfew at 6.30pm and I do find this cramps my style.
My homestay is comfortable enough, though taking a bucket shower during one of the many sudden power cuts, knowing that I am sharing with a giant cockroach, is testing.
At first I missed my music stand, but soon learned to prefer the laurel bush to support my music book and practise my harmonica outside, with the mountain view to boot.
When I return home for Christmas, I won’t miss the dust, the interminable waiting and the ubiquitous stench of human sweat. But I will miss, and treasure, those colours, the local friendliness and the much simpler way of living in Tanzania.
What hit me on arrival in Arusha in Sep. were the colours and vibrancy amidst the obvious struggle for daily existence by so many locals. I soon learnt to deal with the hassle on the streets and to enjoy instead the chats you can have with any and everybody, whilst walking, waiting, eating or riding the dalla-dalla around town.
The dalla-dalla is the minibus that runs around town to the villages, but also for the longer journeys out of town. Fares start at 15p. The conductor jingles his change in front of your face as a sign to pay your fare. No words are exchanged. To get off, you bang the inside bodywork and the conductor repeats this for the driver. No words exchanged either. Seating capacity is about 18, but there are flop down seats which block the gangway and room for another 8 or so standing inside the sliding side door. The aim is to keep the d-d brimful, so if you’re standing expect to duck your head and have it nestling in a fat lady’s arm-pit. As the d-d hits the speed bumps or lurches over yet another pot-hole on the dirt road, you get the full whiff and a banged shin. So getting a seat is bliss.
Don’t think about Health and Safety because, as I said, the gangways are blocked by bodies or buckets of tomatoes etc. The conductor hangs out of the window of the sliding door shouting out the final destination, so hoping to find more passengers en route to be scooped up and crushed in. The driver takes pleasure in carving up every other road user, from donkeys to barrow boys, certainly pedestrians and cyclists.
I work as a micro-business advisor on two business projects in and around Arusha and the dusty villages; on one project I have been given a 406 page tome to plough through so that I become knowledgeable about Early Childhood Development prior to conducting field research about it. My other challenging task has been teaching English to adults, my goal being to stop my students using their deeply ingrained –i endings, as in “I’m justi coming”.
Walking the streets I have felt safe, even though in my village as the only Mzungu (white person) 1,000 eyes follow me, the children calling out “Good Morning, Mzungu”, even late afternoons. I once had qualms as I was surrounded by a group of Maasai men in full tribal regalia wanting me to sniff snuff with them. I was able to decline and, wondering what they wear beneath their loincloths, got the complete answer later from a blast of wind in the street. Mzungu are not allowed to roam outside after the dusk curfew at 6.30pm and I do find this cramps my style.
My homestay is comfortable enough, though taking a bucket shower during one of the many sudden power cuts, knowing that I am sharing with a giant cockroach, is testing.
At first I missed my music stand, but soon learned to prefer the laurel bush to support my music book and practise my harmonica outside, with the mountain view to boot.
When I return home for Christmas, I won’t miss the dust, the interminable waiting and the ubiquitous stench of human sweat. But I will miss, and treasure, those colours, the local friendliness and the much simpler way of living in Tanzania.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Timbolo Primary & Hope Kimondo - Ngaramtoni
Sylvia & John Barns - July-August 2008
Made it!
It’s been a week of finishing off and of farewells. Rather late in the day, Sylvia realised that her pupils had learned quite a bit of English from her lessons at Timbolo Primary and that they had enjoyed them too. (There were tears from both teacher and pupils when she left.) Her main hope is that they have actually learned something more important than English from her – something about how teaching can be about enabling learning, that authority can reside in something less tangible and harmful than a stick and that all individuals have value. (Sounds rather pretentious – but where would we be without some idealism?)
The party the school had organised to say goodbye was a very African affair. The Head arranged to meet us to take us to the venue in Ngaramtoni. Despite the fact that he was 30 minutes late at the rendezvous, we three were at the party a good hour before anyone else! Then they all turned up in their finery and looked stunning. Timbolo village dignitaries came too. There were lots of speeches, mostly in Swahili. Five minutes into the Head’s second spot, we thought we looked at least as interested as those who could understand. Sylvia was complemented – ‘although she is old (!), she is always there before school starts.’ Well, that certainly makes getting up everyday at 5:45 worthwhile! They presented her with a Masai blanket – John wants to know, if she’s now Masai, can he have a second wife? Despite our best efforts, it was all rather serious, but we were touched by their wanting to mark the occasion in such a special way.
John’s work concluded (inevitably for an ex Exxon man) with a presentation to the Trustees. He discussed some of his exciting new ideas about the possible future directions of Hope Kimondo Trust – more of that when we return. We then had a ‘part’ to celebrate his leaving. (aside about language – the Tanzanians always pronounce one syllable words ending in ‘t’ with an added ‘ee’ sound – besty, texty books, boaty – but ironically call a do, a ‘part’). The Community Volunteers and Trustees showed warmth and appreciation for John’s hard work and encouragement, which had enabled them to grow in confidence and skill. We were presented with two more Masai blankets and traditional jewellery. You can never have too many Masai blankets, we say.
We want to record our thanks to all those at home who have made this adventure possible for us – those who’ve done practical things to keep our ‘normal life’ back in Blighty ticking over in our absence, caring for house and garden, living in the house, sorting mail, dealing with official business and preventing emergencies. Thanks too to those who have shouldered some of our responsibilities – special mention to Tim who had something of a baptism of fire as Acting Chair of Governors. And we couldn’t have come without Mondo Challenge and a sabbatical for Sylvia from St Mary’s Surgery and Compass.
Finally we want to say how important it has been to us to write and send these newsletters. It has somehow helped us to manage this incredible experience simply to put some of it into words and to feel that someone was interested in how things are for us. A counsellor shouldn’t be at all surprised by this, but to experience the benefits of recounting in this different way has led to a different appreciation of ‘bearing witness’. Thank you. Thank you too for your words of encouragement and support which meant a lot to us.
Big questions loom - about how best to support the developing world, what to make of our experience, what were the gains for Tanzania? There is no doubt whatsoever that there have been gains for us - this has been one of the most significant experiences of our lives. Sometimes at home, life seems to just rush past, but here we feel we have ‘lived’ every moment. Both Timbolo and Hope Trust (our placements) asked us not to forget them when we get home. We were able to say from our hearts that we believed we would always remember our time with them.
We wonder what ‘re-entry’ will be like? It will be wonderful to see you all again – (and to walk on grass and paths not covered in inches of fine dust, to have water literally on tap and easy communications). We’ll return with both of us leaner and one of us fitter – the other was always pretty fit anyway. Walking 25 miles a week with 2,200 ‘feat’ of climb simply to get to and from work, has probably helped. However, hair looks like straw, feels like straw, probably is straw. Skin – well, who knows? E45 and L’Oreal Re-Perfect ‘for very mature skin’ (see comment above) – just not up to the daunting task. And someone should warn the Immodium production line of the imminent slump in sales. Please remind us – it’s the Caribbean cruise next year!
Talking about communications – this is our last newsletter. We’re heading out on Safari and then for some sun, sea and the other thing(s) in Zanzibar and will revert to our usual few postcards sent at the last minute.
Our love and best wishes to you all. Kwaherini. Twende – let’s go!
Made it!
It’s been a week of finishing off and of farewells. Rather late in the day, Sylvia realised that her pupils had learned quite a bit of English from her lessons at Timbolo Primary and that they had enjoyed them too. (There were tears from both teacher and pupils when she left.) Her main hope is that they have actually learned something more important than English from her – something about how teaching can be about enabling learning, that authority can reside in something less tangible and harmful than a stick and that all individuals have value. (Sounds rather pretentious – but where would we be without some idealism?)
The party the school had organised to say goodbye was a very African affair. The Head arranged to meet us to take us to the venue in Ngaramtoni. Despite the fact that he was 30 minutes late at the rendezvous, we three were at the party a good hour before anyone else! Then they all turned up in their finery and looked stunning. Timbolo village dignitaries came too. There were lots of speeches, mostly in Swahili. Five minutes into the Head’s second spot, we thought we looked at least as interested as those who could understand. Sylvia was complemented – ‘although she is old (!), she is always there before school starts.’ Well, that certainly makes getting up everyday at 5:45 worthwhile! They presented her with a Masai blanket – John wants to know, if she’s now Masai, can he have a second wife? Despite our best efforts, it was all rather serious, but we were touched by their wanting to mark the occasion in such a special way.
John’s work concluded (inevitably for an ex Exxon man) with a presentation to the Trustees. He discussed some of his exciting new ideas about the possible future directions of Hope Kimondo Trust – more of that when we return. We then had a ‘part’ to celebrate his leaving. (aside about language – the Tanzanians always pronounce one syllable words ending in ‘t’ with an added ‘ee’ sound – besty, texty books, boaty – but ironically call a do, a ‘part’). The Community Volunteers and Trustees showed warmth and appreciation for John’s hard work and encouragement, which had enabled them to grow in confidence and skill. We were presented with two more Masai blankets and traditional jewellery. You can never have too many Masai blankets, we say.
We want to record our thanks to all those at home who have made this adventure possible for us – those who’ve done practical things to keep our ‘normal life’ back in Blighty ticking over in our absence, caring for house and garden, living in the house, sorting mail, dealing with official business and preventing emergencies. Thanks too to those who have shouldered some of our responsibilities – special mention to Tim who had something of a baptism of fire as Acting Chair of Governors. And we couldn’t have come without Mondo Challenge and a sabbatical for Sylvia from St Mary’s Surgery and Compass.
Finally we want to say how important it has been to us to write and send these newsletters. It has somehow helped us to manage this incredible experience simply to put some of it into words and to feel that someone was interested in how things are for us. A counsellor shouldn’t be at all surprised by this, but to experience the benefits of recounting in this different way has led to a different appreciation of ‘bearing witness’. Thank you. Thank you too for your words of encouragement and support which meant a lot to us.
Big questions loom - about how best to support the developing world, what to make of our experience, what were the gains for Tanzania? There is no doubt whatsoever that there have been gains for us - this has been one of the most significant experiences of our lives. Sometimes at home, life seems to just rush past, but here we feel we have ‘lived’ every moment. Both Timbolo and Hope Trust (our placements) asked us not to forget them when we get home. We were able to say from our hearts that we believed we would always remember our time with them.
We wonder what ‘re-entry’ will be like? It will be wonderful to see you all again – (and to walk on grass and paths not covered in inches of fine dust, to have water literally on tap and easy communications). We’ll return with both of us leaner and one of us fitter – the other was always pretty fit anyway. Walking 25 miles a week with 2,200 ‘feat’ of climb simply to get to and from work, has probably helped. However, hair looks like straw, feels like straw, probably is straw. Skin – well, who knows? E45 and L’Oreal Re-Perfect ‘for very mature skin’ (see comment above) – just not up to the daunting task. And someone should warn the Immodium production line of the imminent slump in sales. Please remind us – it’s the Caribbean cruise next year!
Talking about communications – this is our last newsletter. We’re heading out on Safari and then for some sun, sea and the other thing(s) in Zanzibar and will revert to our usual few postcards sent at the last minute.
Our love and best wishes to you all. Kwaherini. Twende – let’s go!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Hai District Hospital - Small Business Grants
Emma Parfitt Sep - Nov 08
My bubble has burst
I think the thing that did it was the episode of footballers wife's extras that I caught the other night. It was so surreal and such a naff show I don't understand why it was aired but I watched it all the same. It satisfied my appetite for UK TV (and reminded me how rubbish it can be too). The experience grounded me and I am feeling a lot less of an outsider. I am noticing more and more similarities between where I am and where I am coming from. This week Mama Mtey and I started our home visits, altogether we have seen 13 potential grant recipients. We are still to visit at least another 5. The experience was emotional and physically draining, we walked for miles and miles and miles. Often people weren't in as it was market day but we caught up with them eventually. I was shattered by the end of the day and with no sympathy from Mama Mtey. I was informed that now I am living in Africa I have to walk like an African women and so I did. The emotional element was within the stories that the people were telling us. How they came to be ill, who's children they had taken over the care of, how many loved ones they had lost, domestic violence, no ones situation was simple or acceptable. The assessment process for me has become a cross between applying business thinking and social work, separating the two is impossible. Although it has made me realise that a persons needs are the same regardless of which country I am in and whilst back home I never expect to ask someone their health status in relation to a business grant the emotional impact that the money will make is immense. The two factors are intertwined and as important as each other.
When I was researching where to go one my trip and what to do I kept referring back to my previous volunteering experience at the Dreadnought centre. While I was their I had a clear understanding of what was acceptable and unacceptable in relation to each of the children that I spent time with. I understand how a child fits into our social structure and how they should be treated. My main concern with volunteering abroad was that the cultural gap was too wide and that what I believed to be right would be irrational thinking to the people that I would be working with. I have come to realise that this is relevant, poverty is poverty I recognise it when I see it and no one should live within it.
I would never expected an episode of footballers wife's extras to have such an impact and I'm sure it never will again! Unfortunately the episode was a one off and instead my TV viewing has moved on to a Spanish show dubbed into English. The plot is so complicated and ridiculous that I don't have a clue what is going on. I do that there is a long lost son, a magical medallion, a rich girl with a job in a burger bar to prove her independence and there was a plane crash! I'll let you know how it all ends.
My bubble has burst
I think the thing that did it was the episode of footballers wife's extras that I caught the other night. It was so surreal and such a naff show I don't understand why it was aired but I watched it all the same. It satisfied my appetite for UK TV (and reminded me how rubbish it can be too). The experience grounded me and I am feeling a lot less of an outsider. I am noticing more and more similarities between where I am and where I am coming from. This week Mama Mtey and I started our home visits, altogether we have seen 13 potential grant recipients. We are still to visit at least another 5. The experience was emotional and physically draining, we walked for miles and miles and miles. Often people weren't in as it was market day but we caught up with them eventually. I was shattered by the end of the day and with no sympathy from Mama Mtey. I was informed that now I am living in Africa I have to walk like an African women and so I did. The emotional element was within the stories that the people were telling us. How they came to be ill, who's children they had taken over the care of, how many loved ones they had lost, domestic violence, no ones situation was simple or acceptable. The assessment process for me has become a cross between applying business thinking and social work, separating the two is impossible. Although it has made me realise that a persons needs are the same regardless of which country I am in and whilst back home I never expect to ask someone their health status in relation to a business grant the emotional impact that the money will make is immense. The two factors are intertwined and as important as each other.
When I was researching where to go one my trip and what to do I kept referring back to my previous volunteering experience at the Dreadnought centre. While I was their I had a clear understanding of what was acceptable and unacceptable in relation to each of the children that I spent time with. I understand how a child fits into our social structure and how they should be treated. My main concern with volunteering abroad was that the cultural gap was too wide and that what I believed to be right would be irrational thinking to the people that I would be working with. I have come to realise that this is relevant, poverty is poverty I recognise it when I see it and no one should live within it.
I would never expected an episode of footballers wife's extras to have such an impact and I'm sure it never will again! Unfortunately the episode was a one off and instead my TV viewing has moved on to a Spanish show dubbed into English. The plot is so complicated and ridiculous that I don't have a clue what is going on. I do that there is a long lost son, a magical medallion, a rich girl with a job in a burger bar to prove her independence and there was a plane crash! I'll let you know how it all ends.
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