Returning to Africa

Vicky Harris - Timbolo Primary School - September-December 2007

For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to go back to Africa. My parents were both English teachers who met in Kenya and got married in Nairobi Cathedral. I spent my first few years there and, even after returning to England, grew up surrounded by all things African. I loved the occasional evenings that my dad would get his boxes of slides down from the attic and we’d all sit round as a family and reminisce.
So when I finally got round to contacting Mondo Challenge in early 2007, I had just assumed that I would go back to Kenya. But when I looked at the countries where their projects were based, for some reason Tanzania was the one that appealed to me.

On arrival, I was introduced to Kate, the country manager, who told me that my placement would be at Timbolo Primary School, situated in the foothills of Mount Meru, and my family for the next three months would be the Kinisis. I would be sharing them with another volunteer, Lindsay, who was American and who had already been living there for two weeks. Their home was in a village called Ngaramtoni where Mr David, the father, ran the New Sahara Café. Mama Baraka worked at the local hospital and they had three boys: Baraka (17), Lowassa (15), and Julius (7). They also took care of Mama Baraka’s nephew, Venance (5). I realised the first day I met Mr David that his was no ordinary family. He had a cheeky grin, an infectious laugh and a mischievous sense of humour. He told me his motto was ‘Be free’. I loved him immediately.


With Mr David under a Maasai shuka.

My walk to school took about an hour. Most of it was uphill through thick dust and for the first two weeks I had painful blisters on the soles of my feet. It sounds like a nightmare but it was the highlight of my day. The scenery was stunning, the views across the plains were breathtaking and at every turn there were little groups of children just waiting to grab your hand and walk with you for as long as they could. Every single day I did that walk I noticed something different about the landscape.

Part of my walk to school.

My first few days at the school were challenging. I have been teaching English for almost seven years now and was used to a certain way of working. I soon realised that if I tried to apply my usual teaching methods to my classes of over 100 Tanzanian kids, I would get nowhere fast. You have to alter your expectations and focus on what you think is important for them. Songs were extremely popular and I used to love listening to the whole class launch into ‘If You’re Happy And You Know It’ with huge smiles on their faces and impromptu dance moves. They enjoyed coming up to write things on the board and anything visual (flashcards or pictures) was greeted with appreciative gasps and murmurs.
The other teachers were a joy to work with. They were all relatively young and not particularly experienced but they did the best they could with what was available and had a great rapport with the kids. Ten o’clock was ‘chai’ time when we would all sit around and chat over cups of hot, sweet tea. Within a couple of weeks everyone had nicknames and I felt like I’d been there for years. I remember sending a text message to one of my friends saying, “I can’t believe I’ve only got seven weeks left.”

In the staff room with some of the teachers on my birthday.


There was a student who stood out from day one. His name was Ndobiri Sambeke and he was in my Standard 3 class. It’s not easy getting noticed in a class of 120 but he had no such problem. He always had his hand up, was desperate to answer my questions and his huge grin lit up the classroom.
Meanwhile, my walk to school became more interesting as I got to know some of the villagers and some faces became more familiar. One day a girl came out of one of the Maasai huts and greeted me by name. I asked her what she was called and how she knew me, and she said that her name was Naramatisho and that her little brother was in one of my classes. She was kind and friendly and although her English wasn’t great and my Swahili was almost non-existent we liked each other immediately and I used to look forward to seeing her on my walk home.
Ndobiri continued to work hard and began to come and chat to me at break times and loved taking photos with my digital camera. One day we walked home together and he insisted on carrying my bag. We stopped outside the hut where Naramatisho lived and he took my hand to lead me in. I realised that she was his elder sister and this was his home. I was invited in and given a banana, which I ate slowly as everyone sat round and watched.

With Ndobiri at school.


Within a month Ngaramtoni felt like home. Lindsay and I had become great friends and we were enjoying our time with the family more and more every day. We would go to Arusha at the weekends just to have a hot shower and get together with the other volunteers but we were never as happy as when we were watching badly dubbed soap operas with the kids on our laps surrounded by our family.
Sometimes I would lie down on my bed in the afternoon just listening to the laughter coming from outside and a big smile would spread across my face.
Amina took care of the house and did most of the cooking and cleaning. We would sit outside in the evenings under a blanket of stars and watch her roll out the dough for chapattis or chop up the vegetables for her special salad that Lindsay and I loved so much. Everything was uncluttered and simple and it all made perfect sense.

Lindsay and Amina making chapattis, with Juli in the background.

The weeks flew by and before we knew it we had to start thinking about saying goodbye. The kids at school had end of term exams and Ndobiri came top in all his subjects, including English. I started to think about his future and what options he had. He was obviously a very bright little boy and had the potential to go far but had none of the advantages or opportunities that the kids back in England had. I decided to ask Kate if I could sponsor him. One of the teachers, Masue, took me to Ndobiri’s home to meet his father. His name was Sambeke and he was a farmer with no wife and seven children to feed. Ndobiri was his youngest. Masue explained in Swahili that I wanted to help with Ndobiri’s education and contribute towards things like school uniform, pencils and textbooks. Sambeke just looked at me and grinned. He grabbed my hands tightly and said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Then continued in Swahili. Masue laughed and I asked her to translate what he’d said. She told me that he had only ever dreamed that something like this would happen and that tonight, when he slept, he would feel fat and warm and contented as though he had a full stomach and not a care in the world.

My last day of school was awful. I knew I was going to miss the teachers terribly and saying goodbye to the kids was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. They couldn’t understand why I was crying and kept saying, “See you in January!” It didn’t occur to them that I wasn’t coming back. Ndobiri walked home with me carrying my bag and understood perfectly why I was so upset. He and his father came down to the village a few days later to say goodbye. I gave Sambeke some money to buy Ndobiri a new school uniform and promised that I would stay in touch. Mr David told me he would look out for them.

Saying goodbye to Ndobiri (with his dad and brother).

Lindsay and I threw a ‘Goodbye and Thank You’ party for our family. We bought a big chocolate cake, gave Baraka some money to buy Cokes and Fantas and blew up loads of balloons. I drew the face of a family member on each one and they all had their own catch phrases. Mr David’s said ‘Be free’. We presented them with a photo collage we’d made of all the great times we’d had and they surprised us with traditional kangas. Along the bottom the Swahili saying read, “Receive this gift and our hearts will be happy.” We ate, laughed and danced to our favourite Tanzanian tunes and it was exactly what we had wanted it to be – a night that none of us would forget.

Wearing our kangas with the family at our farewell party.


Saying goodbye the next morning was a lot more difficult than either of us had anticipated. Everyone was in floods of tears and I felt physically sick at the thought of having to drive away from them. Mr David came with us in the taxi to Arusha and all the way there Lindsay and I just sat on the back seat and sobbed.

Before you do something like volunteering for three months in a third world country, you sit and think about it. A lot. You try to run through every possible scenario and prepare yourself for every possible disappointment or disaster. You worry that you’re not going to be able to cope with what might be thrown at you, that you’ll be the first volunteer to give up on the first day, that you’re going to say or do something to offend the people who have so kindly welcomed you into their home. You don’t dare to hope that this might become the experience you’d always dreamed about, the one you’ve been waiting to have since you were ten years old. But that’s what it was: everything I’d hoped for and much, much more.

With my Standard 3 class.

Timbolo Primary & Hope Trust - Ngaramtoni

Anne & Martin Davis - January to April 2008

We have now really settled into a routine and life here seems to be completely 'normal' now.

Weekday routine - Mama gets up at 5.30 to start heating/carrying water for indoors. Large ex-cement containers, probably holds 5 gallons. I can just about lift one when it's half empty, Mama and the girls carry them full about 50 metres. (Mama is just a polite way of referrring to any older lady, I get it quite a lot myself. Baba is an older man.) Our alarm goes off at 6 and we get up straight away. Quick wash and breakfast. This is balck tea, fruit, sliced bread and Marmite which I brought with me and have since managed to find in Tz. All the fruit is wonderful, we usually have oranges, mangoes and bananas for breakfast. The oranges are actually green outside, with very tough membranes, so you don't peel and eat them like at home, you suck a quarter orange and try to extract as much juice as possible. A bit messy and noisy. Tea and coffee always come with boiling milk as none of it is pasteurised, so we are developing a taste for tea without milk. I set off for school at about 6.50 as I like to be able to admire the scenery and get my breath back before I start work at 8. Martin quite often does some computer work at home for a while and then walks about 500m to the Hope Trust / Osotwa office for more computer work, teaching, advice sessions etc. We pass dozens of people on the way to work and are never more than a few metres from houses, kiosks or farms, although they might not be very reminiscent of home. Almost everyone makes some sort of greeting, unfortunately in any one of about 4 languages. KiSwahili is either 'Hujambo' to which I have to reply 'Sijambo', or, if they are being particularly polite, it will be Shikamoo, to which I have to reply Marahaba. In essence Shikamoo means something like, ‘I know I am only a worthless speck of dust before your great age and wisdom, but please don’t ignore me.’ The reply is roughly ‘Yes, I agree that you are only a worthless speck of dust before my great age and wisdom, but I will deign to notice you.’ The local language is Maasai. The greeting here follow a clear pattern: a) Habari b) Mzuri a) Ta Kwenya b) Eeko a) Soobeye b) Ebba (sorry, written phonetically). I think it means, How are you, fine, where are you going, work, where have you come from, home. A lot of people like to practice their English, so there are a lot of ‘Good Mornings’ and the there are the minority of children who say ‘Give me my money’ or ‘give me my pen’ as a first greeting. As far as I can find out, no-one has ever given them money or pens when demanded, but they keep trying. Most of the children are very friendly and no-one takes a refusal badly. There are also some tribal greetings but I just smile a lot for those as my head will explode if I have to retain any more information.

Martin’s days vary, some are office based and others are walking round the area to visit prospective candidates for grants or people who have already had money and are trying to make a go of running some sort of small business. Many of the ideas are carbon copies of things that already go on and they are giving themselves unnecessary competition. There have been some good and successful ideas – one lady was given enough money to buy a treadle sewing machine and is now making a profit an employs two other people. Two other ladies travel to Dar Es Salaam (10 hours by bus) to buy clothes which are unobtainable here. They can then sell them at a profit and save enough to go back to buy more. It is difficult to think of ideas which are not already in place. Many of the people in the area are subsistence farmers and so have no cash to spend on anything, so selling is a precarious occupation.

I only have 3 or 4 English lessons per day but because of the ghastly ‘system’ there is often more marking than teaching. The children get quite freaked out if you say you don’t want their books in and they must be marked in red or it’s not proper marking. The exercise books are horrible, very thin paper, and the children often cover them in newspaper, so that makes it even grubbier to mark 200 books in one go. The other staff set an exercise on the board and then leg it back to the staffroom to catch up on previous marking. It is the only way they can cope with the system; they can have 8 lessons in one day, they rarely have any free lessons and have to leave school premises at 2, so there is no alternative. Depending on the day, I usually get home at about 1pm and then have a couple of hours to myself. Washing takes quite a while – Martin leaves things in soak before he goes out and I get them washed and hanging outside. We only do some of our own washing – the bulk we leave for the weekend and then we pay one of the daughters to do most of it for us. At 2000 Tsh (80p) we think it’s a bargain and she is pleased to be making some money. Cold water washing and wringing out is not much fun.

At 4pm on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday we have our TEFL English classes. Jane (a young teacher from London) and I share the largest group which varies from 40 to 60. Martin has an advanced group of about 10. Considering none of us has ever done TEFL before, we seem to be attracting a good crowd. They would like two hours every day, but without any resources it’s a struggle to keep up. I have introduced Bingo to Tanzania and we use the dice that I brought with me. Most of the students had never seen dice before and had to check that they all had the same numbers on. Bingo went down well. I was especially glad as I had spent about four hours making 51 ‘cards’. Only 51 because I was fed up with it by then.
After English, we come home, wait for some hot water and then have our ‘shower’. This is a strip wash in our clothes washing bowl. We then relax for a bit while Mama prepares supper. This is usually cooked outside and then kept hot in very large Thermos flasks until everybody is home / ready to eat. We can’t wait beyond 7.30, but they often eat at 9.45 and then go straight to bed. The usual food is vegetable stew (they sometimes eat an extra dish of goat bones as well) with rice, pasta, Irish potatoes or chappatis followed by fresh fruit (usually mangoes, bananas, oranges and avocados, which are wonderful) and tea. It’s perfectly pleasant and healthy but we do look forward to a change at the weekends.

Last weekend we began by visiting one of Martin’s colleagues in Osotwa on Friday afternoon. This is a self-help, self administering local group which tries to promoste local developments and activities. It was Osotwa who asked us to run the adult English lessons, for which some people walk an hour. Ole Daniels is a fervent Maasai who is very keen that the old ways should not be lost, while, at the same time, trying to organise alternative ways of bringing money into the region. He has built what is known as a cultural boma (one of the wattle and daub one room houses which are the main form of accommodation in rural areas). He has built everything himself with help from his family and is now running it as a visitor centre, unfortunately rather a long way from the town. He has organised a group of local women to meet at the boma twice a week to make Maasai jewellery, cook Maasai food etc for any visitors, an opportunity for them to run their group as a collective. We spent the afternoon with them and wandered round the large smallholding, watching goats and chickens and the women demonstrating local skills and techniques. Ole speaks excellent English and spent a month living with friends in Finsbury park so it’s a bit of a contrast with here. The pictures are of the whole group with ole on the far right, and one of the women, Anna, very patiently trying to teach me to do the intricate beadwork on their collars etc. I’m not giving up the day job.

On Saturday we went to Lake Manyara and Tarangire National park to see some of the amazing wildlife and scenery in this area. Manyara is bordered by the Rift valley with vertical escarpments and dramatic scenery. We saw lions on both days, elephants, giraffes, zebra, hippos, wildebeest, water buffalo, impala, baboons, black velvet faced monkeys and wonderful birds. The three in the photos were particularly cooperative.

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.

Hope Training - Ngaramtoni

Izabela Tolowinska November 2007 - Fenruary 2008

I arrived in Arusha on 13th November 2007 and can’t believe I have been here 3 months and it is now time to leave. My volunteer project involved providing HIV/AIDS training for the 6 community volunteers of Hope Trust (there are normally 7 but one has been on maternity leave). Hope Trust is a small local HIV/AIDS community organization based in the village Ngaramtoni, 16 km outside Arusha.

Ngaramtoni village is on the slopes of Mount Meru and is about 30 minutes ride in a daladala (shared minibus taxi of questionable safety) from Arusha. It was originally a Maasai village, but is more and more becoming a dormitory village for Arusha. Consequently there has been an influx of other tribes, notably Chagga. Unlike most of Arusha and other parts of Kenya the soil is black not red and when it rains the village turns into a bit of a negotiation hazard with all the black mud!

Hope Trust provides small business grants to selected recipients so that they can start a small business thereby providing income from which they can feed, cloth and educate their children. It also provides HIV/AIDS and health training to schools and community groups in the nearby sub-villages thereby aiming to raise HIV/AIDS awareness, and hopefully dispel many of the cultural beliefs and myths of HIV/AIDS. All this is done by the 6/7 community volunteers.

The community volunteers had previously received some HIV/AIDS training back in 2005/2006 and had expressed interest to get more – so that was were I came in. All sounds very easy but when my Swahili is not very good, there is no ready access to a printer, the flip chart board is made up of a plywood board that leans against a concrete step, with two pointed sticks behind on which to hang the paper, unpredictable power cuts so you are unable to print/photocopy your training material, people do not arrive on time, it becomes quite a challenge! My first training session started on 7th December with an “Introduction to HIV/AIDS” and ended on Monday 4th February with a knowledge quiz. For two of the sessions I arranged for a local counselor and TB/HIV physician to come and do the sessions on Stigma and TB and HIV respectively, as they could be given in Swahili. The training information had to be tailored towards the “resource limited” situation as general healthcare, HIV/AIDS treatment, healthcare infrastructure is so completely different to what is available in the developed world which meant a lot of internet searches, a great deal of preparation and meetings with local HIV physicians which I found extremely interesting as I learnt so much. Unlike in Europe and US, there are very few antiretrovirals (drugs) available, two types of regimens when treatment is first started and only one regimen when that one fails. All so very sad and not surprising that HIV/AIDS care is such a difficult task. Even giving the training sessions was a learning experience and an insight into the people’s beliefs, and understanding e.g. the CVs were not aware of how the HIV/AIDS epidemic has spread and how huge a problem it is compared to the rest of the world, the belief that antiretroviral (drug) treatment is bad because people start looking healthy and so start having sex and consequently pass on the HIV virus or that HIV transmitted can by sharing sweets from mouth to mouth!

The classroom was in the open air, sitting on tree stumps. Fortunately it was under a galvanised iron roof otherwise when it rained we would have got soaked! I worked very closely with the CV coordinator called Daniphord who helped with translations during the training sessions and also when I visited some of the community training sessions with a women’s group and school. He was an invaluable help and I would have been lost without him.

Two other aspects I worked on included putting together a "training syllabus/module" of the topics to be covered for the CVs to use when they go out to the community (schools, women's and church groups) to do the HIV/AIDS training which seems a relatively easy task and one that could be done in a week. However when there is no overall overview of what training sessions where done, the topics and no coordinated planning (topics and which CVs will do the session seem to be decided 2 days beforehand), but we finally have one. I went to one of the school training sessions where class sizes are typically around 100 to see the CVs in “operation”. Even though there is a chalk board only one CV used it, instead the typical format for doing training is standing in front of the class and talking, which is very similar to how general teaching is done.

The third area I looked at was trying to establish collaborations with existing HIV/AIDS groups and/or local clinics. I had a stroke of luck when I was introduced to the District Medical Officer for the Arusha area who is also a HIV physician who was very happy to meet with me and ended up giving 2 hours of his time discussing a number of HIV/AIDS treatment issues with me. He is also in the early stages of starting an HIV clinic in the village where Hope Trust is based and very keen to work with them and help with their community training sessions. My meeting with Dr. Shungu has therefore been the highlight of my work and I feel that this collaboration with Hope Trust will be mutually beneficial.

My volunteer experience with Hope Trust and MondoChallenge has been wonderful and even though there is still so much that can be done in terms with HIV/AIDS education awareness I feel that some small steps have been done in the right direction. My last meeting with the Hope Trust group produced an unexpected surprise when all the CVs handed in their completed HIV/AIDS knowledge quiz forms, all of them got more than 20 out of 33 questions right!!! I shall miss all the kindness I have been shown and willingness to help but hope to return in the not too distant future.

Maisha HIV Small Business - Moshi

Ruth Worswick October - December 2007

The past few weeks have been busy ones in Moshi as we rolled out the fourth round of funding for our business project. It was the second time Pasua ward had received money. The businesses from the previous round have been very successful so we are very optimistic about the recent grants.

We spent two weeks visiting families affected by HIV or AIDS in their homes, completing a thorough audit of their lives. I felt very privileged being invited into homes and asking such personal and searching questions. It also produced some shocking facts. Among the thirteen families who we visited, all are surviving on about 700/= per person per day. That is considerably less than one US dollar.

Choosing just ten recipients seemed very harsh, as all the families were in need. But a simple scoring system made it very clear who should benefit this time and the other three families will be considered again in future rounds.

I next met the ladies on a Saturday morning in late November, which had been marked as our training day. The Community Volunteers (Emmanuel, Glory and Roster) and I had spent a lot of time preparing our training materials (not least translating them from English to Swahili!) and deciding who would deliver which parts. The training covers the basic elements of running a successful business, continually coming back to the simple concepts of capital, profit and use of profit to enhance both the business and the families’ lives.

I barely recognised our recipients. All were dressed
very smartly and clearly took the day very seriously.
They were focused, active and demonstrated a good
understanding of the concepts taught. And of course
Break during training.we were helped in our concentration by sodas, doughnuts and later, pilau and vegetables!

The day was long and tiring, but we felt very positive at the end. Relaxing on a rooftop terrace, nursing a well-earned beer as we looked out at Kilimanjaro in the sunset, Roster, Glory and I reflected how well we felt the training had been delivered and received.

Of course the true test of success is how the businesses operate. It is early days yet, but the signs are very positive. In just three weeks, many of the recipients have begun to save and are clearly working hard. We had a follow-up meeting and it felt like a different group. All were happy and confident. When we asked what the ladies felt had been the benefits of the grant, the most common answer was reduced stress and that they, and their families, are now eating three meals a day.

What has impressed me with the group is how seriously they have listened to advice and how hard they are working. They turn up early for sessions and are warm and welcoming to me, despite the language barrier. They have bonded well together and are forming a close support group for each other. The follow-up session was popular and we have agreed that this will be a monthly routine. It’s a great chance to share and solve each other problems – in business and in living with HIV.

I feel very lucky to have completed a round of funding, because now I can see so clearly the benefits of small business grants. The transformation in the ladies is incredible and their gratitude to Mondo Challenge and the volunteers is sincere. For me, it is
summed up by Marselina. On her assessment form I described her as constantly ‘drifting off’. Now she is the clear leader of the group – focused, confident and cheerful. That is the success of Mondo!

Malaika Orphanage - Arusha

Megan & Eddie Barkham Malaika Orphange August-November 2007

Today we leave Tanzania.And a part of me is left too.Yesterday we said goodbye to our homestay;that is the official terminology;in reality we left our new family;to say it was heartbreaking is an understatement.The love we feel for them and the love they gave to us will remain in our hearts forever.Mama,Baba,Gardy,Sarah,Godsave,Mum GoGo,Naomi and Imanhi we miss you already!!!! My thoughts on our three months with them are too precious to share;suffice to say we will return as soon as we can. Malaika:the hardest job I’ve ever had but hopefully one of the most worthwhile.There are certainly areas I found difficult to accept and areas I would like to see changed.My respect for the staff grew the longer I was there and likewise theirs for me. They have my sympathy;muzungus coming in for short periods of time telling them how to do the jobs they will still be doing long after we have left.Their was certainly some resentment when I first arrived but I chose to deal with it by getting my head down and working my butt off.Slowly,slowly the girls trusted in me and I enjoyed their respect and love.Teach by example would be my advice to any new volunteers.There were a number of practical difficulties and funding is always an issue. Thanks to Nicky and David in Exmouth Malaika will soon receive a supply of plastic pants and nappy pins.To say these are the type of things we were always short of gives you some idea of the way things are in Tanzania.The 6 babies I was mainly responsible for were of course beautiful but their starts in life pretty horrendous.For that reason I am sorry to have to question our worth as volunteers and would like to see a commitment of a minimum of 6 mths for people who work with vulnerable children.I was torn apart leaving them but am glad to say that I had three weeks with three lovely new volunteers from Israel and know that they will carry on where I left off.But part of me will always remain at Malaika.The older children I had less contact with but in my role of taking them to hospitals and clinics I became close to them also.Volunteering at an orphanage is a huge physical and emotional challenge;one I struggled with almost daily.Comfort,Sia,Samwel,Betty,Neema and Baraka not forgetting Lisa and Paulo and the school children I carry you all in my heart. And now to my thoughts on Africa.I hate the poverty, the lack of respect for women and children,indiscriminate use of corporal punishment and the Dust!!!!!!!!! But we have been privilaged to meet some of the kindest and most loving and generous people who have thankfully blown the previous generilisations apart except for the Dust!!!! Their enthusiasm for life belies the hardships they exist under and we as pampered westerners would do with following their example.Having no water, no electricity and very basic toilet facilities soon became the norm and brought us closer to our hosts in Tanzania.Kwa heri to Arusha and all our new friends;we will be back!!! And finally to Mondo-thankyou for supporting us in this experiance.We acknowledged some differances in opinion and came away with I hope mutual respect.Kate you are amazing and we would like to say a special thankyou to you.It has been a privilage to know you. Asante sana.

Timbolo Primary School - Ngaramtoni

Joel Elkins September - December 2007

If you have the pleasure of teaching at Timbolo, you will undoubtedly develop a love/hate relationship with this road, which, depending on where in Ngaramtoni you live, takes between 40 and 50 minutes each direction, more if you stop to take a few pictures or engage with the locals, which you are likely to do at least a few times each trip, considering the splendor (both animate and inanimate) you will encounter.

For those who don’t have the pleasure, or are new to the experience, below is a roadmap of what you can expect to see. (This is just one of many possible routes to the school, but we have found it to be the fastest and most colorful. Times given are approximate and will vary.)

In order to be in time for morning assembly, you will need to leave the blue sign at the top of the Elias/David road at about 7:00 a.m. Turn left, heading north. In a few minutes (7:03), you will pass Emaoi Primary School on the left, which also serves as the local courthouse, a church on Sundays and, in the afternoon, an army training facility.




Pass this gate (7:06):

Next you will come to a stream (7:07), where, in the afternoon, you might see women doing laundry or army recruits rolling around in the mud. Given the state of the water, it seems better suited for the latter:



If you come at the right time of day, you may also run into Michael and his friends on their way to school, and they will be simply overjoyed to have the pleasure of walking there holding hands with a mzungu.



After a small incline, you will be able to see a gorgeous panorama
(7:10), one which will continue to impress you every time you pass it:



Immediately thereafter there will be a road going off to the right in a steep ascent, which you should take:

On the right at the top of the ascent (7:11), you will see a house with the world’s laziest cow. More often than not, it is sitting in a pile of hay:



Follow this road as it curves and you will most certainly be warmly greeted by a number of children, probably led by this adorable one:




A little further down the curving path (7:15), you will see a number of bomas (Massai huts), accompanied by innumerable goats and children (the latter of which love to have their picture taken; the former are indifferent):








Immediately thereafter, you will come to the “Trevi Fountain,” one of the few public water sources in the area, so named because it is usually left running whether or not is being used, which it often is, either for bathing, laundry or filling up buckets.



At the fork in the road (7:16), turn right:

In about 20 meters, you will see a small store on the right and a V on the left:
At this time, you will also probably be greeted by the “Dust Devils,” who are usually so covered in the stuff that you almost can’t tell where the ground ends and they begin.



At the V (7:17), take the diagonal path through the cornfields, as it curves by (not through) the trees:

If the corn is short enough, here is where you will probably get your best views of Mt. Meru:

Also, if you are on time, about now you may run into Joycey, who will always greet you with a big smile, on her way in the opposite direction:






You will exit the cornfields (7:21) and hit a road, which to the right leads to Kimnyak Primary and Secondary Schools. However, take the road left and then immediately take the fork off the road which goes underneath the Crying Tree, so named because, if it has rained at all in the past week, will still be dripping:

You are now overlooking what is affectionately called “Goatherders’ Hill.” This will soon become the highlight of your twice-daily trip. Once you are spotted, you will be assaulted with Massai greetings by the young goatherders until you are well out of sight. (Make sure you learn the proper responses to each.):


You may also have to pass a similar gauntlet when confronted with the “Ta Kwenya” girls, who are substantially less cute and often more aggressive with their greetings and requests:

You will come to and cross a dry riverbed (7:23) and turn right onto the main path. Continue on this road for a few minutes. On the way, you may experience a talking bush (7:26), saying things such as “Good morning,” “Good afternoon” or “Welcome to home.” Don’t worry, you are not going crazy, that’s just the bush babies who live behind, practicing their English:


Immediately thereafter, you will come to an intersection with a blue store at one corner:

Make a left and continue up the long dusty road. You are now on the final (and most exhausting) leg of your journey. It is about a 14 minute walk up this last straightaway, where (if you’re lucky) you’ll meet some more of the regulars, including “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Shoulders” kid (who likes to show off his English, but needs a little help with the lyrics):


The “Good morning, sir, Good morning, madam” girl, who will greet you most politely with the best English pronunciation you will find in Tanzania, unless your camera is on video mode, then she’ll just stare at you:

The Boma kids, who are always more than happy to pose for the camera: About a quarter of the way up, you will see a fork in the road (7:29); stay on the main path (i.e. veer right)





From a distance, you may see a stone building (7:33) and think that you are almost there, but don’t get too excited – as you will see, it’s not the school, but what it is is anybody’s guess (a partially completed toilet?)



However, when you reach this gate (7:36), you are getting close:





You might even hear the drums from Sambasha in the distance. As you approach (7:40), if you are one time, the kids should be lining up for morning assembly.




The school is on your right. Good luck and have fun!