Friday, March 24, 2006

Photo: A Gesture of Thanks


I am returning to Canada today but my journal notes are not complete. Perhaps a book is in my future to finish telling stories about the wonderful people in Tanzania.

I want to end, for now, with a photo of a little girl I met on the road on Wednesday when I was leaving Longido for the last time. Whenever I took a photo of a child, I checked the image in the viewfinder, gave the child a "thumbs up", then showed it to her. When this girl saw me coming she spontaneously gave me the "thumbs up" sign. Though her meaning was different than mine, I interpreted it to mean "a job well done" during my project visit. I was deeply touched.

Photo: Food for the People


This project visit has been about food as much as anything else. Here women in Kimokouwa are each being given a supply of beans we purchased and had delivered to the village. They express so much gratitude to TEMBO supporters in Canada.

Photo: About the Girls


These two girls represent hope for Tanzania. Educating girls mean families are better fed and smaller in size. It also ensures the incidence of HIV/AIDS goes down. Keeping girls in school also encourages boys to stay. The education of girls is central to Project TEMBO'S work.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Photo: Mzungu Maasai


Yesterday before leaving Longido I was officially designated an important woman in the Maasai community when I received this adornment. I told the women they had, indeed, made me feel important. I am priviledged to have many families.

Photo: Heavy Burdens


Images of women keeping this country going are everywhere. I saw these women returning to their bomas in Kimokouwa. A split second earlier, two very young girls split off, going to their bomas. Roles are set at an early age.

Photo: An Egg Can Change a Life


As I depart, the Longido Women's Chicken group are negotiating an agreement with Cafe LaMama to provide her with 10 dozen eggs a week. The first of many, I hope. To begin with, it will not amount to a great deal but it is filled with possibilities for the women. Their confidence increases by the day. The egg seen here is one of "our" eggs that I had for breakfast at Cafe La Mama's this week.

Photo: About Water and Women

Much of this project visit has been about water and about women. They meet in this photo about everyday realities in Tanzania: women do most of the work, and there is not enough water. Here, the girls from Longido Primary return from the community tap with water for the evening, after finishing class for the day.

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Visiting Village Schools



I heard Baraka come calling outside of Pam’s window at 6:00 a.m. and rolled over knowing I had another three hours until breakfast. After working on my laptop, which had re-charged the night before when the generator was on, Bev and I walked to Café La Mama’s for breakfast. Though we teased Pam a good deal, we thoroughly enjoyed the delicious stack of chapattis she placed on the table before us when we walked through the door. Her early morning cooking lesson with Mama Francis had been a great success.

Our first stop of the day was a visit to Longido Primary School. Rose, the school principal for 17 years, warmly greeted us and was anxious to show us around. She introduced us to the class of Form Seven students. These were the young people who would be graduating in 2006 and, just as for students their age everywhere, they wondered what the future might hold for them. It was easiest for Rose to use Swahili to tell the students about Project TEMBO and when she was finished we introduced ourselves.

I talked to the students about the importance of having a dream and then asked if anyone had a dream of what they would like to be when they finished primary school. Hands went up one at a time: a doctor, a teacher, a pilot, a pastor. The students were inspired by adults who were making a difference in their small community. I told them Project TEMBO would help them realize their dreams by helping as many girls as possible to go to secondary school. Then, in response to a question by a boy, I explained why we focus on girls: They are greatly outnumbered by boys in secondary school; and they often leave school by Form Four to help at home by caring for younger children, or by walking great distances to find water or firewood. I did not mention another reality among the Maasai: If girls do not go to secondary school they are immediately given to older men in traditional marriages. I assured the boys that LOOCIP (Longido Community Integrated Program, directed by Steven Kiruswa) would do its best to find sponsors for them. Finally, I asked how many students wanted to attend secondary school. Almost every hand in the room shot up as hopeful eyes stared back at me. Our work for the coming year was clearly cut out for us.

Next, we followed Rose into crowded dormitories where nearly all of the 898 students at the school boarded, two to a bed in bunk beds, some with mosquito nets, some not. Small “suitcases” were neatly stacked on the floor in each room. The setting was similar to other schools Marian and I have visited in Tanzania. Outside, changes of clothes washed by each child were laid across acacia bushes to dry in the sun. Rose pointed to a building where the children ate, explaining that the school had been one day away from closing due to lack of water during the recent drought.

Rose accompanied us on the 15 minute walk to Longido Secondary School. She wanted to introduce us to the five new girls from her school that Project TEMBO was sponsoring. Along the way, we met Magdalena, the sixth girl, on her way to Ketembeine with her social worker, to a newly built secondary school about 65 kilometers away. Magdalena was a street girl Rose had ‘parented’ and raised for the last seven years. Now Pam agreed to assume her financial sponsorship for, at least, the next four years.

At Longido Secondary, Bev met Neema, the young girl she wanted sponsor. Neema, an orphan, was pleased to know that Bev would sponsor her for her entire stay at secondary school. I promised the other girls sponsors in Canada would do the same for them. Agreeing to return to pay tuition and school fees in a week, we said goodbye to Rose, clearly grateful for our involvement with her students. I was aware that it was now mid-afternoon and we still had one more school to visit in Kimokouwa, about 15 kilometers away. I suggested that we call Mama Francis to see if she would drive us, rather than wait for who knew how long for the dala dala. Mama agreed to 10,000 shillings and dropped us at the school entrance about 45 minutes later.

Kimokouwa Primary School is materially very poor. The classrooms are overcrowded, dusty, and the once-painted walls indicate there is no money for anything other than work books and pencils. Everyone here is from the surrounding Maasai bomas. The village center is a cement u-shaped building with a room for the village council; a larger one for council meetings that doubles for many other things; and a couple of store rooms. Longido, with its dukas (small shops that sell everything from rice to soap to razor blades) and ‘bars’ and a few places like Café LaMama’s looks bustling by comparison. There is absolutely no outside stimulation anywhere and this is something Meikas (shown in the photo above), the principal from nearby Namanga, wants to change.

I brought along some money for a class trip to a national park Meikas spoke of during last year’s visit. Project TEMBO collected some of this from donors and Marian donated the rest. Meikas identified other priorities now. The drought had left many children hungry. Some could help here. But Meikas also spoke of purchasing a generator and small television so he could show the students videos about HIV/AIDS and other social issues, or programs about Tanzania and even images of their new president. I said he was free to use the money for the school, as he wished.

We visited two classrooms and were impressed by the level of discipline and respect we witnessed in the students, as we had been in the Longido schools. When Meikas came to the school four years ago, only two or three students a year were passing the national exams that qualify them for secondary school. This year there were eighteen and next year his goal is higher.

Kimokouwa Primary is the school Kokoyai Paulo attended when Marian and I first visited her in 1998 when she was ten years old. When she finished Form 7, Kokoyai did not have the marks or ability to continue in school. By the time she was 15 she was pregnant and given in marriage to an older villager. Project TEMBO grew out of this experience. Kimokouwa Primary School will always have a special place in our hearts. By working with Meikas, we hope to help him in his work to educate growing numbers of young students who are realizing that educational sponsorships help make dreams come true.

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Getting Caught Up - March 7-9


The bead makers are busy beading up a storm. And it is a good thing, since both bandas will exceed their budget. They will make up the difference by creating more jewelry for Project TEMBO to sell in Canada. Yesterday, when we came into Arusha, Baraka and I visited the bead man in the market to purchase more supplies for the women. They especially needed more white beads and more wire.

After I had checked into the New Safari Hotel, where I will stay for three nights because there is no room at the Lutheran Center, we went over the supplies needed for the Kimokouwa banda. Since it will be a different shape, I wanted to be sure it would be “close” to the budget we set. By using the list of expenses for the Longido banda and making a few adjustments – and many additions the new fundi had left out – I calculated we could manage the additional cost. I bought more Tanzania shillings at the bureau de change and Baraka took the money with him when he returned so the fundi could get started with the work.

In Arusha, I met up with Pam Mountenay Cain and Bev Bennett-Arnold, two “retired” teachers from Ottawa who have come to Tanzania for possible work as consultants. They hope to lend their expertise to the building of a new private teachers’ college near Dar es Saalam. They are also interested in seeing the work Project TEMBO is doing and I am thrilled to be able to take them to our project area. Everything about life is different in rural areas, including education. To fully appreciate the difference, it is important to see other settings, so our first stop is a visit to St. Constantine’s, a private international school in Arusha.

St. Constantine’s sits on a sprawling 35 acres of land and is a collection of classrooms, computer and science labs, dormitories, housing for teachers, a cafeteria, kitchen, offices, library, an auditorium, two swimming pools, sports fields and a basketball court in the making. It is rich in resources and stimulation, and has a very low class sizes of around 20 students. It has many things a school in Canada would have. When the power cuts out a large generator kicks in. A continuous supply of water is supplied through a pump house. Students attending St. Constantine’s are often children of foreign diplomats, personnel at the Rwanda War Crimes Tribunal, or successful business people. Mama Janet, the headmistress, escorted us on a thorough visit of the premises.

The next morning we met Steven in Arusha. He had come to town to buy books for the new community library in Longido. To ensure he had suitable books, Steven had consulted staff at Longido Primary and Longido Secondary School, as well as other community members who made useful suggestions. Many of the books on his list had to be ordered so Steven opted to purchase books on Tanzania animals, vegetation, birds, nature and geography. These books would be appropriate for many primary school graduates and students who had attended secondary school or above. Later he will add books in the Maasai language and in Swahili for people with little or no formal education, as well as books for adult literacy and vocational training. We left Kase Bookstore on Boma Road with a full box for the library.

We picked up some ‘take away’ food at the Bamboo Café next door to eat on our way to Naasha Teachers’ College in Arusha where we had arranged to visit three of the students Project TEMBO is sponsoring. Steven had made arrangements for the students to attend Naasha after they were unable to get into other institutions. We found this Montessori Teacher Training Center tucked away behind a solid iron gate on a small crowded unpaved mud road. The head teacher told us a new building was under construction nearby as he showed us through the two tiny rooms crowded with desks where the students sat shoulder to shoulder for classes. In this extremely run-down, resource-poor setting, students come each day eager to learn so they will one day be able to find employment.

We met Luca and Elizabeth and were told Consolata, who has frequent epileptic episodes, was absent. Luca needed money for accommodation since previous arrangements had fallen through. Elizabeth needed money for a passport photo and for a school field trip to a national park. Both Luca and Elizabeth were positive about learning and grateful for their sponsorships. As we left, our amazement at how teachers could teach and students learn in such a setting stood in stark contrast to the broad smiles on the students’ faces.

We made the one and a half hour drive on the Arusha-Nairobi Road in the comfort of Steven’s African Wildlife Foundation vehicle and arrived in Longido in time to get settled into the guesthouse. Pam and Bev had opted to stay in Longido and experience rural community life rather than make the long commute each day. It was not the Holiday Inn, but everything in Tanzania is relative. Steven called Mama Francis to arrange for something extra special to be prepared for supper and after enjoying a stew of bananas, potatoes, and meat, along with beans, rice, a green vegetable, and some fresh fruit we were ready to settle into our private rooms for the night.

Before leaving Café La Mama’s, Pam had arranged to help Mama cook breakfast the next morning. Arrival time – 6:30 a.m. Baraka agreed to set his clock a little earlier so he could accompany Pam for the 10 minute walk down the hill. Bev and I would enjoy the sleep-in.

Safari Photo #7


If you stay at the Tarangire Safari Lodge you will unzip your tent to this stunning sight early in the morning. It is everything you imagine an African morning to be.

Safari Photo #6


The tembos. There were hundreds of them in Tarangire National Park, none cuter than this little one. Everything is lush and green, now that the long rains have thankfully begun.

Safari Photo #5

March is just after the birthing season. We were delighted by the sight of babies like this - also wildebeest, baboons, warthogs, antelopes, and my favourites...in the next photo...

Safari Photo #4


In the awesome Ngorongoro Crater, lazy lions parked themselves right alongside our vehicle, ensuring that we could not move. We enjoyed watching five of them stretch and sleep, occasionally wandering over to get a drink from an indentation filled with recent rainwater.

Safari Photo #3


Tarangire National Park is a favourite place of mine. There is a variety of landscapes, and diverse vegetation. And especially, lots of elephants. Here we are at a picnic site having lunch as storm clouds are settling over parts of the park.

Safari Photo #2

Baboon troops were everywhere we went, including right outside our door at the Lake Manyara Hotel. This one is looking a little pensive, a departure from the usual mischievous, playful behaviour.

Safari Photo #1


Pam Mountaney-Cain and Bev Bennett-Arnold from Ottawa joined me for a few days on safari to some of the magnificient national parks in Tanzania. We met this fellow with a few of his friends - enjoying lunch near the roadside in Lake Manyara National Park.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

A Strategy For the Chicken Group



This morning after breakfast Baraka and I went to the road to catch the dala dala to Kimokouwa. We were taking the fundi along so he could look at the site the village chairman, “the honourable councilor”, had chosen for the women’s banda. I intentionally stood talking to people for as long as I could until the driver began honking the horn for everyone to get in. It’s really pointless to try to figure some things out here. You’d think the vehicle would have taken off down the road, knowing more people would get in along the way. No, the driver continued up one side of the road and down the other, slowly, slowly, or pole pole, as they say here. Then he’d stop and lay on the horn alerting people as though this were the last call. I knew it wasn’t and so did everyone else, obviously. This went on for 45 minutes. There is not a thing you can do about it. There may not be another vehicle for a few hours and it is 15 kilometers to Kimokouwa. The same thing happened yesterday on our way to and from the market in Oldonyosambu. So much time is spent getting to and from your destination. Frustrating, to put it mildly.

We were dropped off right at the site. The ground looked so different than last week when it was beyond bone dry. Now it was quite damp with green shoots on what had been dead-looking branches, and there was a green hue all over the ground. We walked to the designated area and Baraka drew the design in the earth. This banda will be different than the one in Longido. Rather than being rectangular this one will be circular, just like a Maasai boma. It will still be made of an “iron” (tin) roof supported by iron rods with a half wall of bricks and cement. We discussed a diameter then went about marking off the area that would have to be cleared. By now we had been joined by some Maasai and a woman carefully piled stones where Baraka and the fundi had indicated boundaries with sticks. Before we finished, I reminded the fundi that he had a budget and must operate within it.

As another dala dala slowed on the road Baraka and I ran towards it. Our second task was to look at goats for the Kimokouwa women in Namanga, about 20 minutes away. On arriving we found out we were too late. The goat market operates in town from 7:30 a.m. until 10:30 a.m. only. We would have to return early tomorrow. We purchased cold drinks and wandered around a bit, crossing over into Kenya on foot. A visa is not necessary if you are just visiting the local area on the other side. However, there are checkpoints just down the road where you will be required to produce valid documents. Namanga, Kenya is a very run down town compared to Namanga, Tanzania and I was happy to re-cross the border and board a dala dala back to Longido. Once in the village, I opted for an hour of quiet time in my room rather than lunch.

I arrived at Café La Mama’s in time for our 3:00 p.m. meeting with the women’s chicken group (pictured here), which officially began at 3:30 with nine out of ten women present. I provided sodas for everyone, which is customary when you call a meeting or, in our case, even when you attend one as a guest with the “honourable chairman” in Kimokouwa. I suggested we begin by doing an evaluation of their chicken project. My first question for the women was: How have Project TEMBO chickens made a difference in your lives since receiving them a year ago? One woman put it simply: My chickens lay seven eggs a day and I sell them for 200 shillings each (about 20 cents.) This means I have an extra 9000 shillings (about $9.00) a week. Everyone nodded in agreement. No one needed to explain to me the significance of this added income in the life of one family here in Tanzania. I explained to the women that Project TEMBO wanted to help their group so they could be even more successful and that their group would help “give birth” to another women’s chicken group. We could do this in two steps. The first would be to have them choose someone from their group to attend Dr. Steven Kiruswa’s course on Small Business Development one Saturday a month for the next six months. I explained what some of the topics would be and that in the end they would write a business plan. If their plan was accepted, they would be eligible to borrow up to $1000.00 for their project from LOOCIP, the local NGO Steven works through.

Secondly, TEMBO would provide some further money to them so they could increase the number of their chickens. Spontaneous applause all around. If they were going to have more chickens they would need to increase the size of their chicken bomas, some of which are greatly in need of repair. I suggested we could build a high quality, large chicken coop that they could operate together. They weren’t ready for this yet since, they said, everyone did not care for their chickens in the same way. They would rather have their own money to enlarge or improve their existing bomas. Okay, we would do as they requested. As well, I gave them the option of each receiving two new chickens or another 50 kilogram bag of feed. As I had hoped, they chose the feed so their chickens would be healthier and end up producing more in the long run. Everyone was thrilled with the new support they would receive and wanted me to relay a heartfelt ‘thank you’ to Project TEMBO donors in Canada. I recalled a year ago, when Marian and I first met with some of these women, that a few of them were crushing stone by hand to provide the very basics for their families. Life was definitely better for them now, thanks to a few chickens, some eggs, and many generous supporters.

I had an early supper of rice and beans before I headed back up the road to the ADP. I wanted to do some work and I was also detecting a pattern to the long rains that had now settled upon us. It seemed to me they began around 8:00 p.m. I had guessed correctly as rain drops began dancing on the metal roof, right on time. They were accompanied by high winds that forced me to shut the windows in my room. A few minutes later there was knocking at the main door of the guesthouse. When I opened it, Elizabeth, a young woman we had met on previous trips, was standing there. I could see she was pre-occupied. Elizabeth was carrying bad news. Two of her cousins in Kimokouwa, young boys aged six and seven, had been killed in the storm the day before. Maasai boys this age are responsible for the cattle during the day. They had left the herd to play in a steep ravine. Suddenly there was a surge of water created by the heavy rains and the boys were swept away. Their bodies had been discovered a few hours earlier. We talked for a few minutes and I expressed my great sadness at this tragedy then settled her into another room for the night.

After reading for awhile, I fell asleep to the sound of a steady downpour that I knew would continue for most of the night. Long awaited rains, carrying the promise of new life with them for many, and indescribable pain for a few.

Finally, the Rains



I was not in Longido when the rains began last week. First on Tuesday, then again on Wednesday. Two good downpours. But I was here last night for a whale of a storm. We had gone to eat at Café La Mama’s around 7:30, as usual, and just as we were ready to leave, the lightening began followed by a heavy downpour. I went outside and stood watching from the safety of Mama’s large verandah. It was teeming. Soon I was joined by others from inside, and others running towards us from the darkness looking for cover. More lightening illuminating the pitch blackness like a fluorescent bulb sputtering on, followed by loud cracks of thunder. For over an hour I stood watching the raindrops create puddles and smelled the soaking earth as the rain pounded on the tin roof above. This storm was just not going to let up. Finally, Baraka announced that Mama, Mrs. Francis, was heading to Namanga to pick her husband up at the Tanzania/Kenya border and would drop us off at the ADP first. What a relief.

The storm continued throughout the night and in the morning I awakened to a very overcast sky and misty air, a new experience for me in Tanzania. I have never been here during a period of such heavy and prolonged rainfall. My fire was not lit and Youster was no where to be seen. She had gone into Arusha and might not have made it back last night, I reasoned. No problem, I have used bottled water to wash with before.

I met with the fundi to go over the progress of the Longido banda and have a look at our expenses to date. The iron posts are in and the roof is almost complete (pictured here). The fundi ran out of “iron” – they are really tin - sheets and will pick more up today. The estimate had also not allowed for new tables inside to display the jewelry. The fundi said using the old stands would be like washing only the outside of a cup. I agreed and suggested we take a walk to someone in the village who sold wood. The pieces were various sizes and quite rough and jagged but the fundi said he could fashion table tops from them. We ordered what we needed then took a walk to the banda site.

I first greeted the women and then asked if anyone had TEMBO jewelry I could look at. I was presented with a colourful display of the women’s handiwork – sets of multi-coloured earrings, many with matching bracelets and anklets. Like the Kimokouwa women, they were running out of the lobster claw closures I had brought from home and asked for more. Also more wire and invisible plastic strands they use for bracelets. I said friends from Canada would bring more and I would get it to them by next week.

Some of the women were sitting under the roof of the new banda and others were making jewelry in the shade of the old wood and skin covered banda ‘tables’. The main roof had been removed a few days earlier. The fundi explained that he could use the posts from the original banda as table legs for the new jewelry stands. I agreed recycling was a good idea. We explained to the women that the fundi was ready to begin the brick wall on Monday and would need their help getting water for the cement. They agreed to assist him by bringing as many buckets of water as he needed for the job. There is a large cement cistern on the site to catch rain water and they would add their buckets to this.

Today Baraka and I went to a weekly market in Oldonyosambu, about 45 minutes away, in the hopes of purchasing new goats for the Kimokouwa women’s group. The women wanted mainly females, and not too old. There were many goats on display. Baraka examined some and we were told others had already been sold. We were out of luck and wouldn’t be bringing any home with us. We did, however meet a man from another village close to the Kenya border who reminded Baraka of a goat sale that goes on all week. He said the goats were a good quality since they had been cross-bred with goats from Kenya. They would be good milk producers and healthy females for breeding. He agreed to take us to the village in his truck on Monday.

We wandered around the market area, weaving in between hundreds of Maasai children and adults who had come for this weekly highlight. Maasai blankets, sandals made from discarded automobile tires, cooking pans, medicine for cows, oil, sugar, salt, maize, beads, new kangas, used clothing, fruit and vegetables, tethered donkeys, deep fried sweet dough and samosas. Everything was here in a one-stop shopping area. Women left carrying full sacks or coloured plastic buckets of supplies on their heads. People loaded boxes into waiting dala dalas.

On the journey to and from the market I could see that the entire area had finally begun receiving rains. The earth looked soaked and some parts of the road were even flooded. I asked Baraka if Longido was now experiencing the yearly ‘long rains’ even though they were a month early. He replied, yes. The area is like a hot house. Only a few days after the rains began the earth is already greening. What a beautiful sight! Shoots are coming out of what has been such desolate sand. Nature’s regeneration in the bleakest of conditions is an amazing thing.

But nature’s blessing has not been enjoyed by all creatures. The chairman from Kimokouwa village, who joined us for breakfast earlier, reported that 24 head of cattle died in the storm last night. They were simply too weak from the drought to withstand the driving rain without shelter. The tragedy continues for many families.

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Photo: Meeting Stella Again


I first met Stella a year ago at St. Francis School, a primary school run by the Sisters of Our Lady of Kilimanjaro which I also made a return visit to this week. Among the 120 students are many hearing impaired and blind children. Stella, herself a deaf woman, was working at the school doing laundry, helping out with cooking, ironing, and cleaning. Stella was also illiterate. I, along with Doris Moore, another Canadian woman working at the school, decided to co-sponsor Stella for vocational studies in sewing.

Here at Imani, which means "hope" Stella is learning to read and write. She proudly showed me her note book for studies in sewing. Stella is making great strides and is happy and confident in her new setting. After observing me taking pictures, Stella took my camera and turned it on me, taking a perfectly centered photograph.

Photo: Visiting Imani Vocational School


Imani Vocational School is another project founded by the Sisters of Our Lady of Kilimanjaro. Sister Placida, pictured above, has vision, courage, and boundless energy. She is introducing me to one of the girls who is learning to do crocheting. The young girl cannot walk because her legs were broken twice as a child and never re-set. A surgeon will be visiting the school in June and he will meet this girl.

The school was founded in 2003 and teaches tailoring, carpentry, construction, computer skills, english, brick making and other courses to abled and disabled young people. On the back of the property they have an area where they also raise a few dozen pigs for food and profit. Gardens lay barren because of the drought.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Photo: Riding Up the Slopes of Kili


One of the projects I visited this week was in a small village on the slopes of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Here, friends with CACHA, the Canada-Africa Community Health Alliance, were providing a free medical clinic to villagers and people from the surrounding area. The morning they were here in Macumbe they arrived to find 1000 people waiting for treatment of one kind or another. The people had begun forming a line at 2:00 a.m.

To get to the village, Baraka and I took three dala dalas and then this truck that was carrying supplies to the village. We climbed on top of bags filled with ripe bananas that would be used to make banana wine. We were two of about 15 people hanging on to the cross bars as we navigated rocks and huge pot holes on this "no road" up the base of Kili. There were some moments when I closed my eyes. It was better that way.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Photo: Beadmakers at Work


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

Photo: Buying Project TEMBO Eggs


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

Photo: Kimokouwa Primary School Children


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

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Making the Connection


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Food For the Villages


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Listening to the People


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friday, February 24, 2006

The Solar Tea Party



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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday, February 23, 2006

The Chicken Groups



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

A New Home


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drought


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

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

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

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

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

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

Monday, February 13, 2006

Preparations For Longido


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

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

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


Definitely some ideas Longido will be interested in hearing about.

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

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

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

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

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

We briefly touched on many things:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, February 12, 2006

"New" Technology Trial

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Updates and New Plans


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

More from our meeting in the next entry…

Friday, February 10, 2006

Life in the City


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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