A Trip to Mbulu

Due to the condition of the roads at the time, a trip to Mbulu was not to be taken lightly. The journey was mainly for Mo to carry out duties for the Agency, but was a fact finding and familiarization for us as well.

We did not get the early start we wanted, but I was to drive the first leg and it was quite hot as we passed through county that was by now familiar to me. We followed the tar road south towards Makuyuni.
It seemed that the dry had intensified as the grass had browned off and the smaller Acacia trees had lost their foliage to appear a grayish colour.

At Makuyuni we turn off toward Mto wa Mbu leaving the comfortable driving of tar seal. The road was a mess and I suspect it was never actually formed but became a dirt track through usage. Parts of the road were simply dust and others crossed a hard pan that had become corrugated - so much so that if you travel too quickly, the vehicle can bounce right across the road! For a short distance there had been a rain shower which laid the dust, but the vehicle broke through the crust and needed a lot of power - I crossed to a firmer area. [This multiple road usage is a major cause of erosion]

Some puddles had formed where the rain had fallen and there were Maasai women collecting the water. Presumably they felt lucky to have the water but we reflected silently about water shortages.

At Mto wa Mbu we stopped to eat some of the scones Mags had made and Mo had a smoke - I was the only one who wanted a Coke so I bought one at a handy duka. Some young men approached us trying to sell crafts as this indeed is a tourist route to the 'Crater and the Serengeti. We talked to them respectfully but did not buy anything.

Mo took over the driving and we climbed the Rift face - it was steep and rocky. Men push their bikes up this road and the women carry goods on their heads. Dusty and hot in the car - give them a thought! The rocks and the clay become red and we are covered by fine, red dust.
At the top of the Rift there is a lookout point and we looked down on Lake Manyara and the Park.
Heading on to Karatu I have described before but the recent rain had made a few more challenges, but the dirt road was much smoother than before Mto wa Mbu. The whole area had been cultivate in anticipation of the rain - this is a very productive area and supplies surplus food to the nation.

Along the way kids call out for a gift - zawadi - or a pen. We do not respond to this but we noticed tourists throwing small change out the safari vehicle window and laughing as the kids scattered for the coins. There is something degrading about this.

[I was reading today about a person who traveled between Mto wa Mbu and Karatu in 1935 and there was virtually no habitation there. Much different to today!]

We decided to stop at Karatu - that dust-red town - for a cup of tea and something to eat and Mo had been to the 'Flamingo' before. As we pulled up, I caught the smell of hot rubber and heard the hissing of escaping air. We had a puncture! A sharp rock had gone right through the tyre.
A couple of guys came to offer assistance and it turned out they were workers at the tyre repair place beside the Flamingo. While we were changing the tyre, Mags went in to order Chai and Samosa - they had no samosa and sent a girl to look for some at other shops. The tea was good - milky and sugary laced with ginger and thirst quenching. The samosas were hot and tasty.

We watched as the guys removed the tyre from the rim using a thick, round piece of metal as a hammer-cum-rammer while utilizing two bars as levers. Safety conscious me noted both men wore jandals - no safety footwear here!
The actual tyre had a huge hole in it, so they cut a patch - we would call it a boot - out of an old tyre they had on hand, gluing and sewing it firmly into place. They used a hand pump to fill the tyre with air and there was the 'pop, pop' sound of the tube settling into the modified tyre. We would use this tyre as a spare brcause it would be hopelessly out of balance but at least, usable. It would have been possible to organise a new tyre but it was at least a day away and we couldn't afford that.

It was raining heavily by the time the tyre was ready and I talked the guys into lifting the repaired wheel onto the rack on the rear door. The cost was Tsh 4500/- which was high compared to Arusha prices, but they had helped us out and in those terms it was value for money.

While the tyre was being fixed we had took the tea Mags had ordered at the Flamingo. Karatu town is red from rain splashing the soil up the walls of buildings and with the wind-driven dust. Inside the Flamingo there is no dust - it is a clean place but spartan. There were four tables, each with four chairs and we were served by a warmly smiling waitress who worked from a servery, linking the kitchen to the dining area. There was a menu board on the wall - with prices, and in the corner stood a small drum with a tap and bowl beneath to be used to nawa - wash your hands.
The tea was from a Thermos, Tanzanian-milky and sweet with just a touch of lemon and I took two cups! We asked for Samosas, but they had none [we were well after the usual rush hour], so the girl ran to the shop next door, but they had none either! The boss told her to go to a shop further away and she returned wet because of the rain but with the Samosas. We left her a tip for her trouble, but this is often my experience - service is provided. Huduma.

The dirt road towards Mbulu was slick with the wet and I had to drive carefully. But it was not long before we ran into the dusty, dry area. The road was smooth as there were no rocks, so I could go at a good pace >50kmph in places!
We were on the Rift Plain which because of the altitude gets a bit cooler [more so at night] and the further we traveled the greener the countryside became. Much of the area was planted in maize, which had grown to about 30cm, but there were crops that were about to mature, so I suspect maize can be grown on rotation there.

The main tribe is Iraqw and their houses are more square but built in the same materials as Maasai - mud with thatching. Generally the houses look neat and tidy and smoke flows through the thatching as there is no chimney. This is a health problem, but on the other hand it stops termites from devouring the thatching. And of course everyone's clothing smells of wood smoke.

There seemed to be less use of Kangas by the women-folk and both men and women use blankets, but not mainly red like Maasai - any colour at all. Men often wore European-style clothing beneath their blanket, which is draped around the shoulders.
Still the soil surrounding was red.

Many of the shamba have planted some trees - Grevillea, Eucalyptus and Acacia but generally there is a sore need of more plantings.

Mbulu is a larger town, with a main street of shops busily trading as we arrived. It is the commercial center of this thriving district and there many trees planted to offer shade. My impression was of a bust town with rich, green areas surrounding.

Mo had a meeting with the General Secretary of the KKKT Lutheran Diocese who have vols -both on the Heifer Project International but they have requested a Fish Farming expert. The General Secretary produced sodas for us and was very cordial and he gave me the impression that the ran a good organization.
Mo then wanted to visit the Catholic Diocese Health Sister because they had requested a Lab Technician. It was getting late in the day and Mo had forgotten the exact location of the office, but he remembered it was close to a huge Cathedral under construction. I decided to ask a group of secondary school boy for directions, but in the Tanzania way, such directions are always difficult to follow. Two of them came with us to show the way.

The Cathedral is indeed huge and I wondered how such a project could be funded and why there was a need for such a huge church. The Bishop's quarters too seemed to me to be lavish.
The Health Sister was just how you would imagine a Health Sister to be and Mo's meeting with her gave the promise of another and the likelihood of another vol appointment.

The road to Dongabesh was wet and slippery, no longer flat because the road negotiates a low range of hills - there was some tricky driving. The hills are covered with low indigenous scrub with a greenness unknown in the Kisongo area where we were working. The view from the top was spectacular and the vastness incomparable in New Zealand. The many greens made the landscape seen fresh and wet and the atmosphere was crystal clear with blue sky and threatening cloud to the north - well I thought north, but it was hard to keep my bearings.

From time to time we passed house that seemed little more than a metre high and there was some discussion about the possibility of them being dug into the ground. One of the vols confirmed that they were. The houses were mud walls and thatched, with some having sods on the roof, growing grass.
We were told that the local tribe began building like this so they were difficult for warring Maasai to attack and it is only a small number of families who build like this today.

The further we traveled the more remote we seemed to be with the occasional village being just one or two shops - duka - and I had a feeling of 'the old west'.
We drove down the hill into the larger village of Dongabesh. There were perhaps twenty dukas, bars and other buildings - most built from concrete blocks and unpainted giving the gray appearance. The Agency logo on the side of our Toyota was well-known in this village and we had the looks from people wanting to greet us.

Mags spotted the Teacher Vol because of her yellow hair and she came over to greet us. She gave us her house key and told us she would return there shortly with a few stores.
The house is attached to another with a shared courtyard and sits in the secondary school compound at the end of a Jacaranda line driveway. The driveway, as at most schools is rock-lined and the rocks are painted white.
There was no electricity but The Agency had supplied solar powered lighting and a gas stove and refrigerator. I was a comfortable setup.
There was a vol married couple also at Dongabesh and we paid a very quick visit to them before our evening meal.
We had brought a blowup mattress as there was only one other bed (for Mo) and we had taken our sleeping bags. We slept soundly to the drone of rain throughout the night.

Mo returned to Mbulu next morning which gave us a chance to relax and take a look around the area. We walked to the married couple's house (once the rain abated) and I was a little concerned that I might lose my way because we had been there only in the dark. The cool of the early morning rain was soon gone and it was warm as we stepped among the puddles. Several people greeted us, most shaking hands and talking briefly.
We easily found the house and Mama L was at home. She was keen to show us the preschool she had set up - Mama L was officially 'unassigned' but had taken on the challenge to do this.
First though she took us to the local orphanage, which had been a Norwegian project and had been handed over to the Lutheran Church.
I was to see much of this sort of thing and will write about it. It is easy to judge but it is an error to judge without understanding and seeing the whole picture. I did some early judging and write what I thought at the time - but maybe my judgment changed over time.
The building was to a good standard and a fence surrounding it was also secure. The solar lighting and many other fittings did not work.
The first thing you notice is the smell - kids' piddle. The orphanage is for kids under two years of age with generality of their mothers dying at the child's birth and after the two years, the wider family are expected to return them into the family. Of course this does not always happen.
The orphanage is staffed by four 'nurses' (on rotation) and they do the best they can with the resources they have.
In the playroom there were a few 'cuddly' toys but nothing else in the room - not even a chair. The walls were painted yellow and were grimy.
The kitchen has a small, wood-fired stove, so the ceiling is black with soot, but it has limited capacity and cannot cook enough food at once for all the orphans. The food safe had large holes in it so the files had easy access to any food stored there! The diet was ugali and sometimes beans - nothing else (but I suspected - milk). I was easy to tell that the orphans were undernourished.
There were toilet there - I didn't look - didn't want to. But there was the smell... well there was a shortage of piped water in Dongabesh - despite the rain.
The sleeping quarters - a room with red cots was empty of inhabitants, and the cots themselves seemed very small - a quarter the size of NZ ones. In another room young kids - 6 -12 months - were in bassinets with mosquito protection. Small faces smiled at us as we passed. We were told that the kids stayed in their bassinets for 90% of the time.
In yet another room, there were smaller kids and smaller bassinets - these babies were asleep.

A young physically handicapped boy walked awkwardly toward us and when I crouched down to talk to him, he made a quick grab at my spectacles - but I was too quick for him to reach his prize. Mentally the boy is not well either - suffering from a lack of contact with people, never treated with affection and no stimulation. Under fed as well!
The older children were at Mama L's preschool.
It had never occurred to us that such a place could be found here and we asked ourselves the the obvious questions. I was saddened by this experience.

After the orphanage it felt like a privilege to walk in the fresh air and harsh sunlight as we walked the short distance to the preschool. Mama L had refurbished a vacant room and has brought many visual aids, from new Zealand, to brighten and stimulate her charges. There were forms around three of the walls for the kids to sit on and grass mats on the cement floors for the kids to play on with toys that Mama L had collected. She had recieved funding from NZHC and I guess Mo echoed my thoughts regarding sustainability. With no income for a teacher, there would be no teacher. But whatever was taught would remain.
Mama L's daughter was visiting from NZ and she was giving a lesson on the alphabet.
There were four teachers (part of Mama L's funding) and there was a lot of praying, singing and restless kids.
Several kids from the orphanage were there, a couple of them handicapped physically. There was on msungu (white) girl there who spoke very good Swahili.
We joined in a short run up the hill to a church bell tower, and from the vantage point had a brief look at the surrounding area. Many of the kids wanted to run/walk with us and hold our hands as we returned to the classroom.

The preschool finished for the day at 2:00pm so we returned to Mama L's house where her housegirl had prepared a very nice lunch and baked some bread. The housegirl was respectful and dutiful and Mama L kept her busy, and she no doubt earned her small wage.

When the two other vols arrived from Mbulu, we went to the Teacher Vol's house for a Waitangi Day meal. Roast pork, roasted spuds and boiled cauliflower. There were ten of us in all.

The next day Pedro suggested we travel with him and the Babati Vols so he could show us the sights as we approached Dareda town. The road was wet, slippery and in places a bog - so the trip was a bit of an adventure!
Pedro has arranged for a truckload of cattle to be delivered from Arusha (part of the Heifer Project) so we diverted here and there to visit the recipients and make sure the heifer's stall was properly constructed. As well as shelter for the animal, there was a need for security as hyenas lurked in the night and very recently a man had been taken by a leopard as he was collecting wood.
The truck had been delayed on account of the rain and muddy roads.
We were on high plateau and it was quite cool and foggy. We passed plantings of Grevillea robusta, Eucalyptus maidenii and Acacia mearnsii which was pleasing to me.
A rain filled lake supported storks - marabou and yellow billed - big fellows, nearly a metre tall! We also saw a number of eagles and kites.

On the way to Dareda, we stopped at the houses of folk who were to receive heifers and some were a fair distance off the beaten track. At one place there was a steep, slippery decline into a gulley where there was a narrow, poorly constructed bridge. I looked at it and remarked about the safety of it, 'Yes,' replied Pedro, 'I'm always pleased to reach the other side!' The climb out was just as steep and slippery.

Back on the 'main road' we had another stop at a small hamlet where Pedro was to leave a message at one of the dukas. It was a windswept, grubby village, a bit like the old west and I whistled that tune expecting Clint Eastwood to ride on up!

As we climbed the hill out of the small village, there was a truck that had slipped into the water table, almost tipping over. It was stuck fast! There was another truck trying to help but a winch and D6 were more likely to be needed. It took some juggling for us to get past and there were a number of people pleading for a lift [probably been traveling in the truck].

To reach Dareda (Ndareda) the road descends the Escarpment [Rift] - the same one as between Mto wa Mbu and Karatu. At the top we took in the view and listened to the forest noise - baboons, leopards, birds and insects - we only saw a pair of dik dik and some rock dasse. Rock dasse are only the size of a rabbit, yet are a close relative of the elephant.
The view was spectacular - thousands of hectares, a tapestry of cultivation and crops, intensively farmed and very green.
The descent was not so slippery, but one corner was a quagmire of deep, watery mud and the diff-lock on the Defender was the only way we could pass through.

It was a very pleasant drive to Dareda and the history goes back to cave drawings and to stone tools. The locals are natural farmers and the soil is rich - this is one of the food basket areas of Tanzania.
Pedro's house was in the hospital compound and very good accommodation it was too! Pedro told us that just the day previously, a young woman left it too late to go to the hospital to give birth and she had the baby beside the bushes near his back door! He suggested the child be named after him!

Back in the Toyota, we headed for the new complex at Bacho, which was a joint venture between the Lutheran Church and the Heifer Project. A sort of conference center where things agricultural were taught. This is where a young married couple of Vols were supposed to be accommodated, but the construction had not been completed. The track into the complex was long and muddy, and with caution Mo decided we should travel in the Defender and leave the Toyota in a safe place - just in case the vehicle became bogged!
The complex was a long way from being completed, but was built of modern materials - imported bricks and modern-style roofing iron. It is proposed that seminars will be run continuously once the complex has been readied.
I was surprised to see that rabbit farming, dairying and tree nursery seminars were to be held with practical on-site instruction provided.
After our farewells to the resident Vols, we made off for Babati on a drying road and in pleasant conditions. Babati to a junction town - turn left to Arusha, right to Dodoma.

We stopped at the Beach Hotel (Beach? So far inland?) for lunch and it was a busy peak lunchtime but we found a table and while we waited for service we watched and enjoyed the general hub hub of life there. They did not provide tea or coffee so we resorted to our usual Coke and for Tsh400/- we ate a hearty meal of wali na nyama - rice and beef. Well the meat was chewable and I continued picking my teeth for most of the trip home but a most enjoyable meal.

Mo wanted to snooze in the back of the Toyota so I drove North from the junction towards Arusha. Most of the first stretch of road I was able to travel at 60 kmph which was good progress.
We soon left the green behind and the land became less populated and scrubby Acacias grew. Larger Baobab trees dotted the landscape. We passed through Magugu a rice growing area and noticed the house construction being of the less permanent materials.
The road deteriorated and progress became slower. There were undulations, sometimes deepish with water in the bottom where care was needed. I noticed to the East there were black clouds signaling a storm and we soon met with the rain. The water in the hollows deepened and black, muddy water splashed on to the windscreen. At one point the soils became redder and water rushed along with us and I could feel the road surface becoming soft. I decided to slip the car into four wheel drive. I noticed a big blue Isuzu lorry parked on top of the next rise - in the middle of the road - and thought nothing of it because there were always broken down vehicles on the road. The right hand side of the lorry looked the best path, and suddenly, whoosh! down we went! water came over the bonnet and my side window was down but luckily water missed entering the vehicle by a few millimeters. I had no choice but to keep going but took care not to speed up or stall - if I had stopped, we would have been in trouble. The bonnet rose out of the water like a surfacing submarine and we were none the worse for wear - it happened so quickly the water could not get into the workings of the vehicle.

All the way back to Arusha we were on the edge of the thunder storm that had caused the flash flood, but we were out of any danger once we hit the tar sealed road South of Makuyuni.

We arrived home late in the day with no food in the house, no water and no electricity. We had just cranked up the gas cooker when Jo called to take us to the Chinese Restaurant where we dined with gratitude and once home appreciated the comfort of our own bed.

Living Safely

Crime does not happen only in third world countries, but they have a fairly bad reputation. I found Tanzania to be generally safe but by following rules. Mind you I did have my share of misadventures.
I was living among the village people and made friends with them and I guess I was a familiar figure in Arusha town.

The basis rules are:
1. Don't show that you carry valuables around. They become a target.
2. Don't wear expensive looking clothes - or jewelry. A modest vehicle helps too!
3. Carry only the immediate spending money in a pocket so you don't show off your wallet/purse.
4. Sometimes I carried a lot of project money - in my socks or in my shoes.
5. Walk confidently, not cockily.
6. Avoid eye contact with people you don't feel comfortable with.
7. Don't go off the beaten track - keep to 'safe areas'.

Now I admit I did not always stick to these rules and I was lucky to help from on high!

The Agency was helpful in this - the excellent training they provided aside - we were only allowed 25 kg of unaccompanied luggage. In contrast, some German missionaries that shipping containers full.

From time to time in Arusha or the villages I would break a tooth on either nyama choma (roasted/BBQ meat) or stones in peanuts. To repair the damage we had to travel to Nairobi where there were better dentists (or so was perceived then) than in Arusha.

Freddy

In Nairobi city, Mags and I were doing a bit of shopping, and I entered a shop to look at shoes. Along came Freddy and spoke to Mags.
'Hi, I'm Freddy from the hotel, I hope your room is comfortable. I am going to buy some medicine, but if you like, I can walk back to the hotel with you after I have been to the shop.'
'Ok,' says Mags, 'But we are not going back just yet.'
We moved along and when I returned to Mags after looking in a window, I found Mags talking to Freddy.
'This is Freddy from the hotel.' Mags told me, 'Have you 5 000 shillings you can loan him to buy medicine?'
'I will give it to you as soon as we reach the hotel.' assures Freddy.
I hadn't recognized him and assumed Mags had and as he left, I asked her if she remembered him. No
We both immediately knew we had been conned!

But not five minutes later another guy arrives to tell he worked at our hotel and was going to buy medicine. I said to him, 'Before you go, we are short of money, can you loan some to me until we get back to the hotel?'
He became angry telling us we did not understand what it was to be poor. Me just moved into a clothing shop and he was gone when we came out.

My Hat

I very much liked my green Nike cap with the Tasmanian Devil stitched on as a logo.
As we were crossing a busy street, a youth came running past and whipped off my cap! He ran down the street. I shouldn't have but I ran after him shouting, 'Mwizi!' (Theif) He had about 20 metres on me but I was assisted by someone in the line of cars (stopped at an intersection) who opened the door and hit him, nearly knocking him to the ground.
He ran across the road towards a group of five men who were standing on the corner. 'Catch him!' I shouted in Swahili, and they did. The youth handed my cap back to me, then the men began to punch him. I tried to line myself up to have a crack too, but decided that would be unwise.
I was unaware that this event was watched by the crowds on the street, and as I walked back to Mags they cheered and clapped me. My chest was heaving and I was gasping for breath but heroes stand tall and don't puff - I tried to emulate this! Unsuccessfully.
I had left Mags in the middle of the road and luckily she was befriended by a street boy. But I had left her vulnerable. That was a lesson for me.

Again!

Some time later, I was walking from the Agency office and woman stopped me to ask if I knew of a way for to gain sponsorship to become a nurse. As I spoke to her, a youth on a bike came riding past and whipped off my trusty cap! I knew I could not run him down! His grin as he looked back at me is still visible in my mind, and I was angry enough to go back to my vehicle and search for him - a pointless exercise! This time my cap was gone.

Foiled!

I took some visitors from New Zealand to see a craftsman using a traditional lathe to make wooden artifacts. They left their bags on the back seat of the Toyota and did not lock the door. In the side mirror I noticed a young fellow creeping towards the door. As he became closer, I reached over and pushed the lock down. I waved to the lad he he walked off.

Again!

We were off in the Maruti with Josiah to conduct a seminar at the village of Mkonoo. We saw the young man who was appointed as supervisor of the village plantings and stopped to give him a lift. He wanted to buy a stock of bread as he owned a small village shop.
While we waited for the bread to be loaded, a hand reached through the window and grabbed Mags' bag. She was quick and gripped hold of it and strap he held, broke. He ran off with nothing, but still Josiah chased him. As he ran, he called back at Josiah, 'Why are you chasing me - I haven't got anything?'
Josiah called back, 'Because you tried to steal from my friend!'
However Josiah did not catch him.

Pick Pockets

There are plenty of pick pockets but both attempts were unsuccessful. Two guys, one each side and one distracts by saying my shoelace is loose, while the other has a go in my pocket. I'm left handed so anything is usually in my left pocket - they target the right! Both attempts were as I walked from the main market.

Cellphone

I was walking to collect my vehicle which was being repaired and I guess from Shoprite, it does become a bit dodgy.
Someone slapped both my shoulders from behind while another grabbed at my cellphone. I fought a little and the phone fell to the ground and I was lucky enough to be first to grab it. The men ran off.
I tucked the phone in the front of my trousers and decided to look for a daladala (bus).
But again from behind, I was grabbed in a bear hug and although I fought and tried to duck away, my phone was lifted. The men ran into an alley and the passers-by confirmed it was not wise to follow!
At the police station there was a large Maasai man who had been robbed of his phone also.

Bandits

While we were on holiday in New Zealand, our house at Makumira was broken into by bandits. They attacked Mbise, our trusted night guard, but with the flat of the bush knife, not the sharp area.
They were after radios and other valuable equipment, but we had none. They missed Mags' engagement ring that was hidden away in a secret place.
Mbise called the nearby secondary school pupils to guard the house while he went for help and to report the break in. The school boys took more stuff than the bandits - but fairly minor stuff really.
When we returned our 'house girl' (the woman we employed to do our washing and cook smoko for the nursery workers) decided to leave us. A week or so her husband arrived with a radio that was the same type as ours - he said it was for sale, so he bought it because he thought it was ours. It was not.
Suspicion sits with them but you never know.

More

Bandits attacked another house up by Nkoaranga Hospital. They had given their dogs something to make them sleep and over threw the guards. They threatened the inhabitants who lost some valuable. The bandits were handed USD1000.

If there is something valuable to rob, then the 'heavies' will come. If there is nothing much of value, there are petty thieves - much more easily handled.

The Other Side

By no means is it all bad!
One day we arrived at our Sanawari home and Mags could not find the door key. There was of course the search of her bag, pockets etc. but to no avail.
We decided to retrace our steps and went to out last 'port of call' - Mac's Partissary where we had called to buy a Boston Bun. There was a young woman working on her sewing machine beside Mac's and she showed us the keys. Mags had them in the lap of her skirt and did not notice when they dropped. Of course we rewarded the young woman.

At Ngarenanyuki I lost the oil filler cap off the Landrover. Kids found it and I received a text to the fact, and was able to retrieve it.

Too Keen to Accuse

People within the Agency would often ask me to take friends into the villages with me, and I am happy to do so. I always give the lecture about taking no valuable.
After I had taken an older couple to Olkung'wado, Kisimiri and Mwakeny I was shocked to hear the next day that other passengers - local people I had given a lift to - had stolen USD500 from the NZ guy I had taken out!
I knew the local people - all good people and I guess who would do such a thing. And I was angry that he had taken the money with him!
At my suggestion, he had another look through his belongings - he found it! He had not taken it after all. Now, what would have happened had I started to accuse people?

Mswakini Celebration

The Tanzania community is very good at performing celebrations and feeding large groups of people. Mostly when I had the privilege of attending, I (we) were somehow at the high table, and I saw this as respect being shown to us for what we were doing within the various communities.
The first of these was the inauguration of the new classroom at Mswakini (funded by the National Parks), as well as the desks, school text books and the goat project.

We arrived at Mswakini at the appointed time and I noted that the drum I had left for the water project was used to make pombe, the traditional brew. The Head Teacher was busy organizing people and there was a lot of activity. A group of Wazee (elders) dressed in their red robes and carrying their fimbo, stood in the shade of an Acacia tree, discussing things in their indomitable way.
There was a large tarpaulin offering shade to the high table and the chairs, ready for the guests of honour, were a modern type not usually seen in the villages. The rest of the prepared seating was the school desks, ['our' new ones and some of the old ones] - all spaced out neatly.
Big E knew some of the National Parks people, so we chatted to them while we waited for the Director of National Parks to arrive - he was late [as is typical for most 'big noises'].



Gradually the area began to fill with the village people - a very colorful scene. The men in their red robes and their fimbos (sticks - walking/carrying) and the women elegant and beautiful in their blue dress and jewelry - shaven headed or neatly trimmed/patterned hair. The bead jewelry and collars were striking - white, red, blue. The long single strings of beads - to knee level - to indicate nursing mothers.
A number of women wore kangas and these too bring colour to the occasion.

Soon the school grounds were packed with people.

The Director of National Parks arrived leading a party of his 'people' and many vehicles - but they took off just as quickly to look at the water project - without us!
On his return we were formally introduced to him and I found him to be a friendly, affable man. We also met with the Regional Commissioner and the Monduli District Education Officer (who I had already met).
I was seated beside the Director of National Parks as the function started.

The introduction reminded me of a union meeting! Everyone was introduced one by one and at the introduction each would call out, 'Mswakini! Oyae!' and the crowd would raise a fist and call back, 'Oyae!'. Some would call, 'Mswakini safi!( clean/great)' or 'Mswakini juu! (Up with Mswakini)' and the last word was called back. Josiah called, 'Msitu ni uhai!' (forests are life or really, forestry is life). Mags and I just gave the greeting, 'Hamjambo' as we were new at this - later we would use 'Mazingira juu! (Up with the environment!).





There were a number of speeches and the crowd & school kids listened respectfully. Most speeches included thanks to NZ High Commission and Hifadhi. Big E spoke about the environment, water, school textbooks, desks and the need to plant trees.
Between the speeches, there were various performances by the school pupils; this successfully varied the day. These performances were excellent, interesting and well-rehearsed. First a larger group entered and sang a song of thanks, mentioning the High Commission and the National Parks Authority - even about the desks, books not forgetting anything. 'Asante sana, la la la!' Then there was a smaller group singing 3 local songs. A boy with a drum and a girl with a rattle - made from bottle tops - performed with style and rhythm.
There were role plays, one directed at parents, imploring on the right of children to go to school,; another about fathers not working in the shamba (farm) and mother expecting girls to work in the home.
Senior boys and girls made amusing solo speeches with actions.
The group of girls presented the risala, a song with a message which was the 'official' thanks, a copy of which was presented to the donor representatives.










Finally the Maasai boys in traditional costume performed their leaping and chanting, then girls came to try to attract their attention, only to receive a cold shoulder.

The Director's speech was longer but he gave us lots of kudos for helping the school even though we faced many problems. He cut the ribbon to open the new classroom. And I symbolically handed the Head Teacher a pile of text books.
We then to the goat shed and the Education Officer cut the ribbon to open the project.











After the opening and the speeches were completed, we filed into the new classroom and people sat according to their status. Apparently though only four women had enough status!
We sat at the high table and were offered beer, Konyagi or soda. Those inside and outside had either the pombe from my drum or soda.
There was the ritual of hand washing. Then the food! A huge platter of rice, tomato & cabbage salad, pilau, roasted meat and roasted banana. The goat shed had become a kitchen and the food was well presented and delicious. The young women serving the food were efficient and very careful regarding hygiene.









The ritual of 'keki', roasted goat was performed and presented to the Director with a short dedication speech. The Director said that he wanted to share the goat and cut small pieces and placed them on a plate. A member of the School Committee fed a piece to each of us [with a fork]
And then was shared with everyone there - other goats had been prepared for those outside. Mags had trouble chewing hers and hid the piece in a handkerchief.
The Regional Commissioner invited us to his place at Lushoto, and the Director gave us a free pass into Tarangire National Park - a rare gift and useful for the five years we were there.
We arrived home safely after a hot, tiring but most interesting day, a once in a lifetime experience. Ah but in the future were were to have more!

Birds

The mammals of Tanzania are most widely known; Lion, Leopard, Elephant, Zebra and Giraffe are among the better known. And this contrasts with the lack of indigenous mammals in New Zealand - save for a small bat.
Surely nobody could go to Africa and not be inspired at the wildlife there.
Most, however don't quite realise that these are vast numbers of beautiful birds - even some ugly ones. Most people if asked to name an African bird, the answer would be, 'Ostrich'.


One of the ugly ones is the Hammerkop, a water bird, or one that lives near  near water.


The Hornbill is another - there are many species of these, but the big ones often visited us at Makumira. One time around 200 came at once - sounded like a helicopter! I think this is a rare event as usually they are in pairs.





A running bird of the plains, the Secretary Bird can run fast and has a variable diet.










There are many species of Woodpecker in Tanzania, unsurprisingly they like to live in wooded areas. The thump, thump of there pecking is very audible.






The Wagtail was an often visitor to our house at Makumira - of course its tail bobbed up and down [constantly]. Saw some in England recently.




The Superb Starling is a colourful contrast to our own Starling, which is an import from Britain.






The pesky Mouse Bird may not be a 'beauty' but it is distinctive and it robs  fruit, even digging holes in  papaya.




The first is the pigeon - there are a number of species and some may be doves, but the sound of them is Africa to me. They are everywhere and are locally called Njiwa, and are eaten if they can be caught.




The Bullbul is the robber of fruit, but spreads seeds. Maybe not as attractive as other birds but never the less is an interesting one.










For colour nothing can beat the Lilac Breasted Roller. A shy bird and often seen in the treetops. Usually out in the bush. It fies quite high and it is difficult to fully see the beauty of it.







There are several species of Bee Eaters but all are colourful and interesting. We saw many in the Ngarenanyuki area.



The Crowned Crane is a large, beautiful bird - National bird of Uganda I think.
Very striking. Loti caught some chick once - ouch!






The Weaver bird is not so much seen but the nest areas are very distinctive.






I have only scratched the surface here and may add to it later - as well as some animals we have seen. I hope it adds to the interest.

Good News

I received a text message from Lilian yesterday. She is featured in an earlier blog.
This is the young woman we have sponsored through secondary school and university - we actually have a long history, the rest not yet written up.

I actually have a video of Manyata Primary School with and she is in it and mentions that her favorite tree is Mtalawanda. It is an indigenous species that I introduced to the school.
Anyway she has been texting me about her university fees which are due shortly and that she is at home between semesters.

What is pleasing was her message to say she had visited Manyata Primary School to see how her Mtalawanda trees were progressing, and she was happy to report that they were health and doing well. Then she added that they have a nice tree nursery there, serving the community.

This is one of the nurseries that I started and so it is with some satisfaction that the sustainability of the project continues.

I have added Lilian's picture of when she was chairperson of the school's environment club. She is in the tree nursery.

Mswakini II

 

 

 

I noted in my diary that the day was auspicious! We delivered the school text books and cupboards to Mswakini Primary School. We’d already delivered some 200 desks and four sets of teachers’ tables and chairs. By chance I’d spoken to two brothers at Ngaremtoni market, and told them I was looking for a furniture factory, and blow me down, they owned one! The took me to their office for a chat and according to the signage outside and in, they were chemical importers, sure enough, but they were operating a joinery factory. They made the desks at a very reasonable cost, using Grevillea timber, which is not quite so favoured as Cypress because of termite risk, but Grevillea is suitable nonetheless. Within their contract they made the teachers tables and chairs, as well as the cupboards to store the books and to protect them. They were to varnish them with that yukky, sticky varnish and transport them to the site. These guys were real gentlemen, sharp as tacks with an eye to business but reliable. Their product was acceptable but not 'top of the line'.  We were thrilled to see the desks in place with The Agency's logo drawn on them by the school. So the day marked the Primary Schools Assistance Project being completed at Mswakini, without a hiccup! But Hifadhi's projects..... I asked the Head Teacher, Mr Kamiro about progress. Only 35 female goats had arrived with no males, so the breeding programme so far, was only a bunch of frustrated nannies. Only Tsh 200 000/- had been spent on the purchase of goats, and it turned out that Mr. Kamiro had actually built the goat pen himself in an attempt to embarrass Big E into getting off his arse! The teacher had done some research about billy goats and found they were readily available at the Mto wa Mbuu market. Big E had told me that the price was high at the time of the year and therefore more economically sound to delay the purchase – his economics were always different to mine! I warned him, breeding projects do not bear fruit if the seeds planted! Mr Kamiro was not at all happy with the delay and he knew that Big E had been paid for the project some fifteen months earlier, so there was no excuse for any delay.

 

Big E had tried to tell me that the furrow for the pipeline hadn’t been dug because the village people had no hoes or shovels… but I didn’t bite, obviously he was trying to wheedle money out of me! Mr Kamiro confirmed that the village people grew maize, so of course they had farming tools! He also told me that he was able to mobilize parents and or use students to dig the blimmin’ furrow! I told him that I was very concerned that the water project was seriously flawed because it was trying to get the water to flow uphill… when I showed him why, he understood my point of view. I raised the question. There is a borehole and a pump, owned by the Phosphate Company, and usually, when a company gains a water right, they have to donate something to the local community.  Did they install a water trough for the cattle? Sure enough, in this case, they installed a large tank and a pipeline to a water trough for watering the cattle, and it happened to be in the direction of the school. It had been designed so that the last of the water in the tank would reach the trough - but only just. Any further, and there wouldn’t be enough pressure for the water to reach the trough. The uphill slope wasn’t much, so it would be possible for water to go further, as long as the tank was always full. Nobody had about mentioned this!

 

 

On my return to Sanawari, I briefed Big E about my meeting with Mr Kamiro. He told me he had paid the deficit of Tsh200 000/- to the village chairman, but Mr Kamiro was away at a funeral so probably hadn’t been told about it. He promised he’d take a vehicle to Mto wa Mbuu to buy some billy goats so the project could be started. And he agreed that there should be digging equipment in the village, but he told me the people would expect something, or they wouldn’t turn up for work, and yes I understood about that. So instead of handing out money, I purchased 3 shovels and three hoes/grubbers/mattocks and gave them to him. I could account for the expenditure by way of my official receipt. I also told him that I’d called at Monduli to talk to a government water engineer and I was impressed with his expertise and knowledge of things water in his district. He had promised to check the levels for me and to take Big E with him. Big E agreed to go the following Monday.

 

Sometimes things just happen, not always for the better. One of these was when Mo & Jo met with Big E and the subject of the projects came up. Seemingly harsh words were tossed around and both they parted with everyone hot under the collar, and no resolution! No doubt Big E decided that any sort of action was better than nothing just to get them off his back… when Jo accompanied us to Mswakini to deliver some extra teaching aids, the Head Teacher told us that some action had eventuated, and indeed we found that a reservoir had been constructed beside the water trough. But dear oh dear, the workmanship was shoddy! I couldn’t understand why he chose the location because we had discussed that if we were able to pump the water, we might as well position the reservoir close to the school! So things were still no better between the field reps and Big E, leaving me a bit like 'piggy in the middle'. I told Big E, the bottom line was, the projects has to be completed, and I promised him I would be on his tail, but I was prepared to help. Maybe I haven’t mentioned, we lived in the same house, separated by a partition that didn’t quite go to the ceiling, so we knew each other well. Anyway… in the middle of this the Mswakini School Committee wanted to dedicate the projects and thank the various people involved, they could see that the water and goat projects were going to take forever to complete, so they decided to hold a ceremony for our government’s Primary School Assistance Project and at the same for the National Parks Authority's new classroom.

 

 

After a scheduled visit to Mti Mmoja Primary School, Josiah and I made the extra journey to Mswakini to collect the water drum I’d left there for them to store water and to brew some of their speciality for the celebrations. At the same time we checked if the pipe connectors had been located. Big E had told me they were lost and suspected someone from the village might be making jewellery out of them! At the village office, we met a group of elders and they sat us down, watered us (well, loshoro-ed us) and flatly denied they had even seen the parts. They were angry that water had been cut to the water trough because Big E had instructed someone among them to dig it up! I left them promising to shake Big E awake. Big E was despondent about the loss of the fittings and refused to go back there until he had news they had been located. Secretly I bought new ones to get the blimmin’ job done! The very next day he sheepishly returned from Mswakini with the fittings, saying that he had found them, he had hidden them under a bush so they wouldn’t be stolen and he suddenly remembered where the bush was!

 

Big E was focusing on his bar, so the water/goat project wasn’t progressing, but our own environmental programme with the other schools was going well as was our tree nursery. Luckily the funding we’d sourced, on condition Big E didn’t get his hands on it, made us pretty independent of Hifadhi, but still, he couldn’t complain because Hifadhi bathed the overall kudos for what we were doing. Our funding also helped us forge ahead with Mswakini, although I still had to make Big E face up to his responsibilities… if I could. He was hard to pin down, with boozy nights and still asleep when I left for the villages in the morning. Around this time, to make our seminars more kid-related, I wrote a short story which Joshia brought to life in his reading of it, and as well I developed a couple of role plays that we added to amuse the kids… and teachers. Mags also tuned her ukulele, and our environmental song came into being.

 

When it was Mswakini’s turn for the environmental seminar, it went down well and I introduced the other bit, the role play to show how people could cooperate in tree care and keeping domestic animals and hens from the damaging trees. It was quite a fun day. Afterwards, we took the opportunity to check on progress at the water project, but nothing more had been done and the poor workmanship of the reservoir remained an embarrassment.

 

A beer-breath Big E called to see me early one morning, so I took the opportunity to tune him up! He reacted pretty aggressively, but in the end he agreed that he deserved a kick up the arse. A month later we went back to Mswakini. The water project was becoming tiresome because of Big E's lack of expertise! It turns out he was there on the Friday before and on the Monday but didn’t achieve anything because both times the elders were meeting. In those sessions, typically, they ate meat and drank beer while they discussed matters… seldom resolving anything. There was a work party ready to work on Wednesday but the only guy who could fit the connections had a death in his family so he wasn’t there. I gently requested Big E to organise a work party for the next Monday and I promised to take him there and spend the day working them together.

 

 

Well it didn’t happen! We arrived, but a lion had attacked a boma in the village and killed a cow, so some Moran (circumcised young men) chased the lion down and killed it! Such an event required a celebration, so a bull was killed, beer was made or bought and so nothing could be done for a week! I couldn’t be angry about this, it is part of their everyday life, and I was pleased they stuck to their tradition. Sure I needed the project to be completed, but such an event is infrequent and who was I to throw a wet blanket over such excitement?

 

The weeks rolled by. Joshia and I made another trip to Mswakini to check on the water project, and nothing further had been done. We happened to meet the village chairman at a bar cum restaurant in Makuyuni where we lunched; he was with a few of the other village men and they were disappointed with Big E’s performance, but nevertheless shouted for our meal of nyama choma. I told them that I would again talk to him and promised to call in at Mswakini on my return from Karatu where there was to be an Agency conference, if there was still no progress, we would return to work there on the week of 20 January. The chairman told me that the goats were steadily dying and supposed fleas might be the problem. Oh joy!

 

We returned to Mswakini the day I suggested to sort out the messy water project. Big E had teed up the village men, but when we arrived there was nobody to be seen! The young men who were to dig the furrow were in the process of selecting a bull to kill for yet another celebration! I pulled rank! We rounded them up and set off to the pump house, as usual the wee Maruti was overloaded with men wanting a lift. There were about 40 women and children filling containers at the pump, which had been started by an old fellow whose job it was to operate it. We hadn’t been told about him either! I asked him to stay and we went to the Phosphate Company reservoir to make sure it was filling. The Moran had begun to look for blockages in the pipeline to the cattle trough, this is what the elders had complained about ages ago! Water hadn’t been flowing there for months! We assumed that was why Big E had the men digging it up! They were digging up sections, cutting the pipe and testing them for blockages, so thank goodness I had bought those extra fittings! As I worked and watched, I compared the work-soiled women with twenty litres of water on their heads, ready to walk for an hour, to the fancily clad, jewellery-encrusted Moran and pondered how the responsibility for water to be delivered to the household, was always on the women and children. This is why the men were reluctant workers! One guy used his fancy sword to cut some scrub, but it wasn’t as effective as you might think because it was made of shit-metal! A toy really, for show. Two guys worked at a time while the rest rested. I have no doubt that if we’d asked the women to do the job, they would have done it, because it was in their interest. It simply wasn’t of interest to the Moran, it wasn’t their role! Gradually the blockages were cleared from the pipeline, and after we’d put the pipes together, I asked old guy to wind up the pump, but at the water trough there was only a piddling trickle! The Phosphate Company’s reservoir needed be at least two thirds full, or there was no hope of Big E's reservoir ever getting a drop! What to do? I suggested that we cut the inlet to the Phosphate Company reservoir and hook a line into the outlet so the pump which would force water to the reservoir. There were enough bits and pieces fittings for me to hook up the lines, although I had to jerry-rig one piece by encasing it in cement, but it worked! We found that the standpipe 200m towards the school from Big E's reservoir would flow water if the reservoir was more than half full, this made the reservoir effectively half its capacity, but in the circumstances, it was a victory. What we didn’t know was the operator of the pump had a line directly to his house as a perk for doing the job! Had we known, we could have upgraded that line quite easily, but we were out of time!

 

I was reasonably happy with the outcome, but the major flaw was the fuel for the pump. Within the budget there was provision for 12 months’ worth of fuel, and then the goat project was supposed to cover the cost. Simply it was never going to work. The goats fell to disease and there was no funding for vet costs. Then it transpired that the herdsman hadn’t been paid so he slaughtered and ate the offspring, so maybe the disease was but a myth all along. Nobody else kept goats tightly in a pen, which could have been a reason they became sick. I was unable to take this part of the project under my wing but it was obviously mismanaged or misjudged by Big E.

 

Ugomvi, as the word sounds, means bad feeling and there was another source of Ugomvi! Big E had a lady friend who had returned home and managed to fool a secondary school into fundraising for Hifadhi to buy bicycles so Big E could hand them out to people who helped with Hifadhi’s projects. Already the wife of one of the recipients had asked me to take it back because it led to extreme jealousy in their village. At Mswakini, the bicycle caused ugomvi because the recipient was selected by Big E, as his gift to him, rather than going through any democratic process. The whole project wasn’t the success it should have been and I took the lessons on board. I pointed out to Big E and Josiah what I had learned… the project was a very good one and very well thought out, but ownership of the project was with Hifadhi instead with the village people. They had forgotten that the village people are intelligent people and if you go there and say, 'I have money, so this is what you are getting.' They will say ' Ok then do it!' The village people didn’t feel the project was theirs and with only occasional visits from Big E there was no enthusiasm from the village men. The same when it comes to maintenance, they saw it as Hifadhi's project so Hifadhi should maintain it. There should be thorough discussion and negotiation from the outset, and a sense of ownership should be generated. Villagers will accept advice and direction but without ownership, the project was always be flawed.

 

One Saturday at home, Big E wanted to chat, as we sat in the mid-morning sunshine, he told me he had been frustrated at the goings on at Mswakini. 'Look', I said gently, 'the people of Mswakini needed to own the water project. Every item brought taken the village should have be signed for by the village authority and it should have be noted in the village log book (all villages have them - or if not, at least the visitor book). Once the project was complete, sign it over to the village and make them responsible for all maintenance, repairs and future extensions. The goat project isn’t working, so abandon it by offering the remaining goats to the people who carried out the most work. Make it the job of the Mtendaje to collect money for the fuel, that’s his role. He is the one who collects taxes on behalf of the government. Sign the bicycle over to the school for the use of the teachers to run errands.' Big E nodded.

 

I didn’t think too badly of Big E really. He had thought out the project and gained the funding. Yes, he misused funds, no, actually he stole them, he was taking advantage of an opportunity that wouldn’t happen again. Just the same, he genuinely wanted to better the life of those Maasai people… and it’s seldom that you get things right on the first attempt.