"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.