Realities

Another sleepless night. It had nothing to do with the bed or anything else external. My inner clock is still adjusting, I guess. I was also awake the whole time on the plane coming over, so it has been a few days of this. Maybe tonight will be different.

I was in the shower by 7:00 a.m. It is 8:00a.m. now and I am already sweating. More sun and no sign of rain here. John the taxi driver said there have only been two brief periods of short rains so far this season, with the long rains not due to arrive until the end of March. The dry conditions here are brutal. John says I should bring a case of water to Longido and I must admit to feeling very awkward about arriving with water for me while the people have none. But I know I must do just this.

I imagine I will be deluged with an ocean of needs once I arrive in Longido and Kimokouwa. (Why does my mind use water metaphors during a drought?) I do not know what I will do – what I can do - in response to the suffering and needs I will see.

The city streets are wide awake and active now. Packed safari vehicles are heading out with excited passengers who have traveled here from afar to see the natural beauty in the national parks that is astounding. Taxis speeding everywhere in the hope of snatching early morning fares on their way to appointments. Local people on foot heading for their spot on the street to set up their wares for the day. Soon the colourfully garbed women will arrive with baskets of fresh fruit atop their heads – pineapples, mangoes, avocados and bananas. The street hawkers, of course, have been working since daybreak and will chase down tourists until night fall offering watches, batiks, maps, beads, day or two-day old newspapers – anything that can be carried around.

It is now 2:00 p.m. I had my 10:00 a.m. meeting at the Bamboo Café with Kosiano and Robert. Robert had a muffin and coffee, Kosiano a tall glass of mixed fruit juice, and I had a samosa and coffee – 4000 shillings, tip included. Priscilla was our waitress and she was so happy to see me back. My conversation with the men went as I expected it would. Kosiano is looking for someone to loan him $3000.00 U.S. to build a curio shop on the road to Lake Manyara. I listened, knowing there was little I could do. I promised to put their photo on the blog site and tell their story. Kosiano has five children and Robert two. Neither has any secondary school education. Both have learned English on the street and are very smart men.

I returned to the Bamboo for lunch. Priscilla suggested I order the special, chicken marsala with rice and mixed vegetables. All I have been hearing about is the drought and food shortage, which made it difficult for me to finish this generous meal. I decided to save half for a “take-away” and give it to one of the street vendors. Kosiano’s face appeared in the window and I invited him in. He had already had something to eat but used the opportunity to float a business proposal while he had my ear. Would I buy ten large batiks for him costing 7000 shillings each, which he would then re-sell for anywhere between 15,000-25,000 shillings and return my loan to me. He would take me to the warehouse to see them. After listening, I was impressed with his business plan and looked for an opportunity to help him. I offered to give him 21,000 shillings for three as a start and if he sold them and paid me back, I might consider “investing” more money with him. He was happy with the deal and promised to succeed. We will go to the warehouse at 4:00 p.m. today to see the batiks. I told him he was sworn to secrecy and must not tell the other vendors. As we were ready to leave, John walked in and was happy to share the other half of my meal for lunch.

The cell phone I purchased on Tuesday was still not working. John and I went to the CELTEL office – the maker of the phone card I was given – but were simply told the network was having difficulties and to keep trying. I needed to get in touch with Ndinini at MWEDO so decided to pay her husband, Tom, a visit. Tom works in the same building as I am staying, just up a different staircase. I knew he was in the CUSO office on the third floor, since we had visited him a year ago. He was happy to see me and, after getting caught up, he called Ndinini at her office. It was nice to hear her voice again and we agreed to meet at 10:00 a.m. at the MWEDO office on Friday.

Tom said Ndinini had just returned from a visit to Longido and the situation is quite desperate. I asked about the possibility of having a water truck go up to fill the large storage tanks that are used to catch rain water. He said trucks were making deliveries in the city but that it would be too expensive to drive 100 kms. since the cost of gas is so high – 1130 shillings per liter. And, water is also becoming scarce in the city. I also asked about the feasibility of purchasing goats and chickens for our women’s groups if the animals would be at risk of dying. Tom said that chickens and goats can survive the drought because they are smaller creatures. Larger ones, like cows and some big animals in the national parks, are dying because they require lots of grass to eat each day and it just isn’t there.

The government, and its new president, Kikwete, are trying to see that food gets to the people who need it most. Kikwete is also lifting the tax on food so that it costs less for people to purchase but, even at that, food staples - like maize, which is used for ugali - are scarce because there have been no rains. I am anxious to talk to Ndinini and Steven about how our project money can best be used during this crisis.

I kept my 4:00 appointment with Kosiano to visit the batik warehouse, located near the Arusha International Conference Center (AICC), less than a ten minute walk from the Lutheran Center. The warehouse turned out to be a small, unlit, crude ‘workshop’ where batiks are actually made. The designer explained the process to me as we watched some of the workers at their craft. It made me appreciate the many hours that go into producing one batik. Designs are stenciled or hand drawn on a piece of clean white cotton. Areas not to be coloured are waxed. Then colours are applied in layers, one at a time, then set in the sun to dry. When the wax needs to be removed it is scrubbed off so another colour can be applied. In the final stage, the wax is ironed off between layers of newspapers. When we arrived, some were hanging on a line drying among some corn stalks and banana trees and the designer allowed me to take some photographs. But the photograph I really wanted to get we had passed on our way in. A man was hammering nails into a simple wooden coffin. If I wanted this photograph I would have to pay. I usually don’t pay for photos but this was one I wanted so I gave him 1000 shillings. Outside the gate I was able to shoot a couple of frames of a coffin that had just been painted brown and was decorated with ribbons, looking like it was waiting to be picked up. The size appeared to be small. Another reality that is all too common here.