I become a Detective

We carried some VISA travellers cheques with us and we hid them in our suitcase. We lived out of our suitcases because we had no bedroom furniture as such. One day Mags, like all 'Scrooges', decided to count them, only to find they had gone missing! The amount was USD 1000.00! Immediately we contacted our NZ Bank and found that of the 11 cheques stolen, 5 had not yet been cashed - so payment on those had been stopped. Of course this meant going to the Police Station for a report, without which, we could make no insurance claim.

The Arusha Police Station is a busy place, and perhaps difficult to negotiate, but when it was my turn, I had no problem with the officer who filled in his big log book. The actual report was a problem because there needed to be a carbon copy and the carbon paper was nearly worn out and he was unable to find a pin to hold the sheets together. After a runaround between offices I got my report after paying the nominal fee.

I was particularly sad because this was the last day Missy would be with us but I had to ask if she was the one who stole the cheques. She denied it, but I had to ask the question because she had troubles that I have no right here to write about. Missy is still our dear friend and she continued to stay with us after this event.

Through faxes via BNZ Oamaru and the VISA office in England, we found that USD 600 had been cashed and they provided us the numbers of each check stolen/cashed. Of the ones that were stopped, UDS 400, we could pick up as Thomas Cook Travellers Cheques from the Uhuru Branch of the Commercial Bank Of Tanzania.

We faxed Oamaru again to request photocopies of the cashed travellers cheques, then went to the bank to pick up the new cheques - not there! But took the time to go around the Bureau de Change place to see if they could enlighten us about the cheques already cashed. A waste of time & energy.

A few days later I rang London VISA to fax me details of where and when the cheques were cashed, and the woman told me that the forged signatures were nothing like the originals! It took a few days for the fax to arrive and Mo, who in another life had been a police inspector accompanied me to the National Bank of Commerce. The people there were very co-operative and told us that one of the cheques was banked by Mt Meru Hotel (Novotel). We then went to the Sanbik Bank and the accountant there knew the man who had banked $200 and he told us to return about 3:00pm and the man might be there. We went off the Mt Meru Hotel where the accountant was co-operative and said he would mount an investigation because they had cashed the $400 that we had stopped! In the end, nothing came of this line of enquiry - I guess whoever cashed it was close to the accountant because his point of view was they could not find who had actually cashed the cheques. he would know the roster and he would have known what went on.

Back at Sanbik Bank and the guy had not come in. But the accountant knew him well and phoned him - this wee accountant was excited about his role in the investigation and giggled as he placed his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. The guy owned Pelican Safaris and would see us next at 10:00.

This fellow was a big, friendly man and said he was sorry to learn that our cheques had been stolen! He offered to refund us but actually never did! His wife ran the Bureau de Change at the Impala Hotel and she had given him the cheques to bank into his account! So we went to the Impala Hotel and talked to his wife. She could not tell us who it was that brought the cheques in but told us of the taxi driver who brought him. He could be found at Hotel 77 Taxi Stand in Peugeot (I forget the plate number). I found the guy and he thought I was a passenger and used good English, but when I asked about the guy he took to Impala Hotel, he didn't remember his English - so I used Kiswahili. He said he would tell me once and even in court will never say again.'I don't know his name, but he is a young man, tall and black!' He described the eldest son of Big E! The black bit is not disparaging, because all Africans have brown eyes and black hair, among themselves, they tell each other apart in the first instance by the relative colour of their skin - simply some are darker than others.

I knew I could not accuse the fellow, but I had solved the mystery! Two days later though, I saw the man from Pelican Safaris drinking with Big E at his bar! The next morning I told him I had seen the man who had banked the stolen cheques. Of course Big E asked me where, and when I quietly told him - he turned just a tinge of white and squirmed!

It all fell into place. The thief and his friend stayed in our house while we were at the Agency Conference held at Ilboru Safari Lodge. They told us it was not secure to leave the house unattended! The young buggers had actually slept in our bed - they had not washed their feet and all was revealed on the bedsheets when we arrived home. They must have rummaged through our gear while they had the opportunity and (probably though not necessarily) took a copy of the key. Then when the opportunity arose, he entered and nicked the cheques!

Later I found this lad had made a girl pregnant - he was senior boy at a secondary school - and he needed money! The rear tyre of the Maruti was stolen too! By the same person for the same reason, the concrete block used to prop up the wheel had come from behind the house and I found the imprint of it. The worst thing about this was that the wheel nut were stolen too and they prover hard to replace - which is why they too were stolen!

Oh yes, VISA reconsidered and thought the signatures were in fact similar and refused to reimburse us, but of course we had copies and pointed out the error of their decision. In the end they paid out and added USD200 for the trouble we had been put to - so no complaint!

The Dogs of Sanawari

Well, really it is the Dogs of Arusha but never mind.

In an earlier story I wrote that dog droppings had to be removed before a table was set for us outside. You don't want to eat close to that stuff!

There was one dog that lived by the butcher shop, poor thing had no power in its hind legs and had to drag itself along using the front ones - I wondered why someone had not 'put it out of its misery! It should be remembered that Rabies is indemic to Tanzania and these amimals carry other diseases!

The reason is that Tanzanians do not like killing dogs, or cats for that matter, but I learned that much later. Later too a certain national group who had a taste for dog meat, were roundly criticised by the locals - it showed through that generally Tanzanians respect dogs.

Actually though dogs were a bother to me. People kept them mainly to guard property, but in reality, the dogs slept through the heat of the day, and congregated into packs at night - absconding from the place they were supposed to be guarding. Of course they would fight, or squabble, over food and when there was a bitch on heat, there was much barking and fighting.

Now they did not respect my nursery, and they would trample over the nicely lined out pots of trees, and generally make a mess.And outside our bedroom where there was a large area of grass, they would routinely carry out their noisy mating rituals.

I could not prevent the problems in the nursery, because it was situated at the back of the house, but even at night, I am not so docile, I could do something about the chaos out front!

I had a good collection of torch batteries - well you use a torch a lot when there are power cuts; and the batteries were not all that good at the time. I had about 20 batteries lined up on the windowsill beside the front door. Whenever the dogs began their ritual, I would climb out of bed and open fire at them - throwing the batteries. This would make them scatter and move on. The first job next morning was to collect up my batteries and set them on the windowsill once more!

Revenge can be sweet, and I did get mine. One moonlit night the dogs began their commotion outside and I knew this time there was a bitch on heat! I could plainly see her in the moonlight with some mongrel mounted upon her. My aim was good and I hit her on the shoulder and she yelped! But her suitor was stuck, knotted, as dogs sometimes do, and I kept up my barrage. She dragged him through the bougainvillea hedge - yes dragged him, he would have felt some pain and the hedge was prickly - I still smile when I think of it!

On occasion we would stay, or friends would stay at Spiritan House in Arusha - those that stay there are fortunate indeed, it is a good place to stay. But in that area the dogs are even worse. At Sanawari they are not around every night, but it is almost every night at Spiritans! Even at Makumira there was a problem but only perhaps once a month.

Responding to complaints the Arusha Municipal Council acted and sent out shooting parties. They used shotguns - hopefully for the safety of the population - but I think they wounded more than they killed. These dogs were not attended to, nor were the dead ones.

This raises another thing! There is plenty of dog carnage on the road, but I have never seen hawks, eagles, hyenas, cats, other dogs feeding on them. They just seem to become pulverised by lorries and other vehicles until there is nothing left of them! Curious eh?

When we were at Makumira, the Headmaster of the secondary school lived next door but up hill slightly from us. He became insecure and purchased from the Police Department, two Alsatian guard dogs. Each at a cost of Tsh100 000/-. I'm not aware that these dogs actually scared anyone away ( there were six night guards and one was always at the headmaster's house) probably everyone knew there were dogs there. He would tie them up as far away from his bedroom as possible, and usually right beneath ours! These dogs were not too bad, but when the village dogs began their barking, so did the guard dogs. I would go to the guards and ask them to move the dogs away and they would do so. I also told the Headmaster they disturbed us, but he continued to tie them there and I continued to get them moved each night.

But one night I went to ask for the dogs to be moved, and there were two guards; both fast asleep with the dogs roaring not ten feet away! I kicked one's foot to wake him and he did not wake immediately (probably piwa) but I was amazed how they had slept through all that noise!

If you happen to be queasy, don't read on, and if you do read on, don't think too badly of me :-]

The outlet from the bathroom washbasin just poured onto the ground outside, so I suggested to Big E that it might be a good idea to dig a soak hole. It might be healthier too! He agreed and had Veronica's father dig a hole about 1metre x 1meter and 1.5metres deep. I had expected the hole to be filled with large stones, but this never happened.

Young Olotu and his friend Bazili decided to use the soil from the hole to make bricks, and I was interested in the technique of making the sun-dried bricks. I asked what they would do with the bricks, expecting them to be selling them.

'We are going to make a dog house!' Olotu announced.

I hoped my face did not show my horror! Now I like dogs, and have had many dogs, and I like to train them well! But I did believe that we didn't need another dog around here! I firmly believed it!

'Where are you going to build the house?' I asked, suspicious that I knew where!

'Just here.' came the reply.

'Not likely.' I said under my breath and successfully negotiated with Big E for it to be built on the other side of the house!

Well the dog arrived, a nice-looking dog and I noticed straight away that it was a bitch! Oh happy day! Not too long after, Olotu came to tell me that she had delivered four pups! Oh Happy day!

The pups began to walk around and were not too much bother to me until one night they fell down the soak-hole! Their yelping was too much for me, so I crawled out of bed and climbed down into the hole and tossed them out. Next night the same; night after, the same. That was three in a row - the novelty had worn off!

Forth night the yelping started again, and I looked for something stout, and decided on my short shovel - I took it to the hole with me. The first pup received a firm clout on the back of the head and I tossed it out of the hole! The next must have had a harder head! The shovel went 'Doinggg' like a bell and the pup howled out, so I clouted it again, with the same effect! Panicking a bit as I feared I might be heard, I cracked it again, (well it was dark!) and this time it made no sound. Too afraid that I might be caught in the act, I tossed the other two out and took the two dead ones to the garden and buried them.

I felt very guilty and more so when I saw Olotu looking for the missing pups! We were talking about them when the mother of the pups walked across the garden and dug up one of the pups! Olotu was amazed and wondered how the pup had got there. I shook my head.

The other two pups were actually stolen a few weeks later and the bitch never had any more pups while we were there.

I'm sure Olotu would forgive me for what I did but I did have a good reason for doing it albeit perverse.

Trip to Amani

While we were in Tanzania we took the opportunity to visit various places, and one of these places was Amani. Meaning 'Peace', this is a reasonably difficult place to get to, and were were lucky that Mo & Jo were prepared to take vols with them when they went anywhere interesting.

The following is from my diary, but I have made it perhaps more readable. Oh maybe I should add that Mo had a passion for collecting snails, and we were always conscripted into searching for them too - it is more interesting than it sounds!

Mo & Jo, together with Duck arrived to pick us up at 6:00am and we began the journey to the East. Past Kilimanjaro Airport was new territory for us and there was much for me to take in, because I am always interested in topography, plants, animals culture and all! But I don't want to fill this up with a description of the landscape.

The road to Moshi had not been rehabilitated yet and was a myriad of potholes and the vehicle could not be driven fast. This makes the journey interesting because all vehicles pick their own path that looks the smoothest - this means you may be on the wrong side of the road and oncoming vehicles may be on 'your' side. The Impression I had of Moshi was that the town was smaller than Arusha and slower paced, but then we did not go right in to the shopping centre.

The futher East we travelled, the drier the landscape became, and the vegetation changed with it.

We passed the village I now know well as Mwanga, and on to the village of Same, where the Elephant Motel is situated. The Elephant Motel was one of those tourist ventures set up, but seemed not to have attracted much business. Locals were unlikely to use it (because of the cost)and tourist traffic was infrequent. Everything was clean and tidy, and the service good. We were the only folk there and in fact any other time we went there, there was nobody else. Sometimes I wonder how such business kept going - well I do know, but that's something else to tell later. Heads of various antelope and gazelle adorned the walls, something (fortunately) you don't see too often.

Breakfast was an omelet and a cup of tea at a cost of Tsh 800/- each which was a very fair price.

It was always inspiring to see Mount Kilimanjaro, though she seldom lifted her skirts of cloud, and over the years we tried to photograph her; sometime with success, other times not. Later on our trips to Ngarenanyuki we saw her better.

I fell in love with Baobab trees early on, and there were many of them just before Mwanga and beyond, after Same though the vegetation turned to Acacia and other dry land bush up on the slopes of the Pare Mountains. So to our left rose the Pare Mountains and to our right were plains covered in what I call scrub, but is classified in Tanzania as forest, and according to my geography teacher, savanna, forest where you can ride a horse among the trees.

By the way, the road was sealed but narrow and in good condition, from time to time lorries were broken down on the side of the road; or crashed - likewise buses and worthy of note, there were only a few private vehicles and slightly more project type vehicles.

After we had passed Same, the vegetation reflected the drier nature of the land and shorter Acacia species grew. There were sisal plantations which always seemed to be neat in their tidy rows. Areas of deafforestation where evident, caused by the charcoal trade.

I can't adequately write about the changing landscape, but to me it was (and still is) enthralling. Many tell me about the boring trip to Dar es Salaam - never to me - it is certainly a long way but there is so much to take in. The areas to the North became more mountainous, collecting more rainfall. therefore becoming more clothed in forest. Even on the very steep slopes there is agricultural activity, cropping mainly maize and beans. And there were houses up there, some grouped into small hamlet- type villages.

We followed the railway line and were cautious crossing it,though we saw no trains.

There were no road signs as such, but on most shops a Coca Cola sign provided the name, and I guess, getting about you had to be resourceful. The road forked, to the East was Tanga and to the South was Dar es Salaam - we took the East fork towards Hale and Tanga. Buses travelled fast and the drivers are belligerent - something to address later too!

The soil became redder the further East we travelled, so did the houses made from the soil (mud brick). Some had a whitewash plaster, and rain splash made the bottom half of the walls red as well. I noticed Kapok trees (pic left) - huge with strong horizontal branches; there were still a few mattresses made from this product, but it is seldom used these days. Plenty of Mango trees and some citrus orchards also Cashew nuts! Red soil makes good burnt bricks, and is a good income for the youth - but, (always but) burnt bricks need fuelwood to fire them and this contributes to deforestation. I will discuss this another time.

The area obviously benefited from more rainfall because there were rice paddies, coconut palms, and the common fruit trees like mango & orange; plenty of banana too! And those big football sized Jack Fruit, good to eat but smelling like vomit - you have to get past that first!

The turnoff is at the village of Muheza (actually you turn off there to go to Pangani, the short cut taking a lot of time). The road is rough and gradually winds its way up quite steep mountains which are clothed in rainforest. Is this jungle? Some of the large trees have huge fluted butts and there was a plantation of Teak. Most of those trees though were unknown to me. The area though was well populated and people were walking along the road or working in their fields, there were some small villages as well.

At Amani (well the whole area is known as Amani but this is more where the research area was established) there was a clearing, standing were some old Arucaria trees - several different species - and soon we pulled up at the Rest House.

The Rest House is an old German place, now owned by the Tanzania government - some may say it is a little run-down, but it is clean and very comfortable. Our room had two single beds - those narrow ones - with frames that carried mosquito nets.

Lunch was ready for us, because we were expected. A very good meal of chicken & chips! Refreshed we walked along a track that followed a water pipe (6") and I thought we were in more or less uninhabited, bushclad countryside - not so we soon met people and I spoke with some and found they were returning home after a day in the fields. I called the forest cover 'bush', which is is to me but rather it was rainforest, but not overgrown and thick as can be imagined. In a clearing, which was each side of a small gully there was a house bounded by a neatly trimmed hedge; the clearing was a neat subsistence cropping farm. The stream in the shallow gully provided clean water and a small dam was set up with a bamboo 'pipe' fixed so a bucket could be easily filled beneath it. Below this are were large flat rocks, worn over the years because this is where the family washed their clothes. We spoke briefly to the owner and he was pleased we liked his small farm (shamba).

As we neared the top of a ridge, we saw many more small farms and enjoyed the view and meeting some of the folk there. But it was time to retrace our steps and return for our evening meal of rice and beef stew.

Saturday morning I rose early as usual and was dismayed to find the kitchen did not open until 7:30 and I liked my early morning brew of tea. Oh yes! Tanzanian Green Label tea is one of the best! I decided to walk around the village in the hope of finding somewhere to take tea, however the village was quiet at that hour. Back at the Rest House, I found the kitchen staff preparing breakfast and they rewarded my morning greeting with a brew! I was all smiles! Breakfast was an omelet.

We climbed into the Toyota and drove past the tea plantation - actually we stopped to take a photo of the tea pickers, but they did not want their photos taken, so we didn't - I found this unusual. I began to feel queasy as we past by the neat tea plantations which were obviously run very efficiently.
The road was in good order, though still the red soil - probably slippery when wet!

When we stopped for another general view and an opportunity for the others to take photos, I had the sudden urge to vomit - right there beside the car - and my bowels actually loosened a bit without permission! I felt yuk!

Anyway we proceeded on to a snail hunting spot and as soon as we stopped I had the sudden, unstoppable urge to fertilize the bushes - dysentery of the watery kind! I felt very sick (my diary has more colourful language than I'm prepared to write here). I walked a little trying to take an interest in the trees, but had several quick detours - going at both ends now I was! I found a place in the sun and had a snooze.

Back at the Rest House, lunch had no appeal for me and I remained on my bed while the others went to do their thing. That night Mags suffered stomach pains and twice headed for the toilet - but she did not vomit. My visits to the toilet coincided with tremendous thunder and I feared waking the whole household!

There is a soda in Tanzania - Bitter Lemon - often taken with Konyagi, this was of great help to me any helped me rehydrate. Mags stayed in bed all day Sunday and my strength started to return and I ventured for a couple of walks. The best was to a Botanical Garden, established 1902 and over some 300 acres. I found it very interesting. I still felt poorly but I had stopped vomiting and my bowels were no longer involuntary!
I had thought this bout had come on very suddenly, but in rereading my diary, there was warning the day before we left - I had been feeling queasy in the stomach.

Jo took a photo of me walking through the forest holding hands with an old fellow that I had met. Tanzanian society differs from that of NZ in so many ways and touching is one of them - it is very natural to hold hands in a way that shows nothing other than a warmness to each other.. Worthy of remark, I found a spot by a creek where what we call African Violets grew naturally, and it was from here stock of the plant was used to propagate for general use.

It was decided that we travel on to the coastal town of Tanga on Monday morning. The trip was short and the landscape different and interesting. The road verges were being kept clear of growth by men welding slashers. The was a large cement factory belching smoke, so there must be a supply of limestone there.

Tanga is a busy little city and my impression was that it is greener than Arusha - probably more frequent rainfall. There were monkeys in the trees.

We had a cup of tea at a motel, and we thought that it would be a good place to spend the night, but there were no rooms available, so we went to 'The Inn By The Sea' which was , shall we say, less well kept. We were the only customers there, but the staff did the best they could and our rooms while not very modern, were clean. How were we to know? There was a lot of noise there at night! Almost constant foot traffic down the hallway. The place was a brothel and there was the giggling and other stuff that the imagination conjures up! No wonder the staff were not used to serving the likes of us!

We had a picnic lunch beside the sea, and realising this was my first view of the Indian Ocean, I climbed down the rocks to touch the water. I had a thrill to see first Dhow and remenbered Sinbad, and saw a man wearing a coolie hat!

We went to the Amboni Caves, (not Duck, he went to town - the brothel may have intrigued him - I don't really know) made of limestone with stalamites and stalagtites, they were very big! The guide charged us Tsh2000/- but Jo did not want to go in there and I was more than surprised Mags did! Truly the caves are magnificent, and there are two species of bat - my first real close contact with them - a bit smelly but! One group of the larger species flew, fluttering, past us, maybe for 20 seconds! Hundreds of them! Then the bloody guide swithched off his torch! Well that was scary, freaky too and a bit risky. It was dark and we couldn't find our way out of there if we had to!

We stopped at a limestone quarry, as always Mo looked for snails, but I was interested in the patterns the blasting had made of the rock face because I had experience blasting rock in my forestry days.

Our trip home was one of retracing our steps and enjoying what we saw, but we came on a huge crash between a bus and a train - 70 people were killed! We saw only the aftermath and the dead and injured had been taken away. We had to wait about an hour for the road to be cleared and one man approached me wanting to go in partnership with me to buy the wreck if the bus. He wanted to make jiko's out of it - they are those small charcoal burners used to cook on. I did not take up the offer.

Mama B was pleased to welcome us home and we slept soundly recovering from our bout of stomach trouble but looking forward to continuing with our projects.

8 Nov 1995 Day 85

This is a diary entry, but before I relate it, I need to point out something.

At this stage of my assignment, or really, as a volunteer with the Agency, there was a general consciousness about money. While some of the Agency's partners were able to pay volunteer's allowances, some were not, and the Agency stepped in to cover the cost and paid the volunteer direct. A volunteer should never get rich on the allowance - a rich person in a poor community would always be a target - the allowance was a living allowance, no more, no less. We were aware of this before we left NZ and were happy. It was low, but it taught us to be conscious of our spending. We could only afford meat twice a week. Well you see that is wrong too. That is Wazungu meat. Had we known about the local village markets, we would not have bought those expensive sausages. But we were copying from our peers and knew no better at that stage.

The other thing was; we were told, and tourists are told that they must barter, and among the Wazungu community there was an element of one-up-manship at taking down the local traders. Hello! what is this? First world expats taking down third world traders!

I have been there and done that - taking a small trader down by Tsh25/-, then about NZD0.30!

Regardless of the fact that a local would have bought the item for what I had negotiated, the fact is who needed the Tsh25/- most?

Now there is a time and place and touts will try to rob you blind selling curios if they can. You just need to be conscious. I was hiring trucks, the driver opening offer might be Tsh100 000/- and I would negotiate them down to 30 000. Or buying timber, or charcoal - get an idea first and then negotiate. But the women in the fruit stalls - give them an extra few shillings!

So now from my diary.

Oh dear, I had the run around trying to get my drivers licence! Of course I have a NZ one, and an International one - for anywhere else in the world - but I have to have a special one for Tanzania. I now have that licence; Class C which entitles me to drive anything with a motor!

Anyway, I walked down to the AICC building and went into the Ngorongoro Wing, window #3 and presented: My filled in form,my NZ licence, my International licence, passport, two passport photos and the Tsh4000/-.

'You need a photocopy of your passport and your International licence' I was told by the woman behind the window. She seemed surly through constant dealings with people!

'Where do I go to do that?' I asked her.

'Around the corner,' she indicated, 'straight ahead and then around the next corner.' Tanzanian direction are often hard to follow but her's were good.

It was a chemist shop with a photocopier and they were used to this. - 3 pages for 250/-! I was was agape at the price, but I decided to photocopy the application form too, and lucky I did!

Back to the woman at window #3 who looked over the papers and told me to go to Room 037 and pointed to it. The secretary/receptionist was a happy-go-lucky woman who seemed to talk to everyone but me! Finally though she gave me the nod to go into the inner room.

This woman was friendly enough, but her demeanor showed that she had some rank. I sat down and pushed the papers over to her. She looked them over and wrote on top of the form and placed an official stamp across her writing. Provisional licence, driving test, Class C licence.

She told me that they charge for the test, but don't have one, so the total cost is Tsh8200/-! I was told it would cost 4000 and I only had 4500 with me! I explained this, hoping she would let me off [don't know why I would expect that!]. She told me to go and get the rest!

I decided to try the woman at window #3! But she told me that I should return to her window with the money. She gave me a pole [sorry], and said they were closing soon for the day.

I hurried back to the Agency office and Mo loaned me the 4000 that I needed. I ran back to window #3! I was getting edgy because when time was up, no question, they would shut up shop!

There was a line and some guy who seemed unable to spell was holding the woman's attention. Even when finally, I was next in line, people would push in or over to catch her attention. So I widened my shoulders!

Finally my turn came and I had no further problem.

It was a lesson for me in how to deal with authority and how patience is something that must be shown.

Josiah and Missy had been talking while I was away - about how Hifadhi was going, and Josiah asked me to type up a file note. I did file notes after meetings with Big E and Round L - just to keep things straight.

The note went thus.

The general result of the seminars [Big E's] were unsatisfactory and awareness [of environmental issues] was not what it should have been.

It is time we were doing less in the nursery and more in the villages. We need proper planning.

More effort should be placed in finishing the Hifadhi Office/Store and tidy it up.

I had been talking to Missy about this and to Big E - the funding was coming and all this would eventuate.

A Poster and Tree Planting Guide

This is one of the awesome posters from the Forestry Department container chopped off at the bottom (it was too big to scan) it says ' Think Before You Act' meaning, lighting fires. The crying tree asks - 'Why are you burning me?' (With fire) . At the top it says, 'I am your friend and nature's gift (to you)'. And along each side are the various uses of trees.

These pictures are from a flip chart used much later, but shows the planting method. I don't think I need to make it any larger, or translate what I wrote. Though I did say to mix the soil with dry cow manure as a fertilizer. The picture on the right shows a margarine pot with a nail hole punched into the lower side. This drips water directly to the roots of the young tree - an effective irrigation method.

To start a story in the Tanzanian way, I would quietly say to the class 'Hadithi, hadaithi.' meaning, A story, a story. or I have a story. The class would be surprised that I knew to say this and they would look at each other not knowing if they should respond. Some may quietly respond. I would then call out loudly. 'Hadithi, hadithi!' and the class would know and respond. Haditi, hadithi, hadithi njoo, uongo njoo, utamu, tulia!' A story, a story, come, tell a lie, come, something sweet (nice, good), sit quietly (to listen). Sometimes as a game I would prentend I had not heard them and they would shout it out again, even louder.

This true story I used in our seminars.

At the village of Mkonoo, Jumanne showed me his trees and he was disappointed, because he was caring for them, yet they were not growing well. Certainly he had planted them in the red soil as I had told him, and he had formed a small catchment area around each tree to hold the water he poured around. Jumanne carried the water some distance in a 20 litre bucket and shared 5 buckets between his 20 trees each morning.

We went together to look at his trees and I showed that although he was irrigating, not much of the water was reaching the roots. The water had compacted the soil (as hard as a brick) and most of the water he carried, actually evaporated. Soil temperatures become very hot causing this situation.

I told him about the margarine pot irrigation method, suggesting evan plasic water bottles would be ok. By placing the pot/bottle next to the tree would cultivate the soil a little which was a good idea too. Once the pots were in place - making sure the nail hole does not block and placing a stone or something for a lid as hens and other animals might steal the water - he needed to use just one bucket between each of the 20 trees, every three days!

Jumanne went searching for the pots and bottles, and some people laughed at him, but he did not care, he set up his irrigation method.

About three weeks later, Jumanne heard my vehicle approach and ran out to the road to stop me. Very proudly he took me to show me what he had done, and already it was noticable how well the trees were responding. He insisted that I take tea with him.

Even whem I moved to Makumira, Jumanne would call to visit, and of course I would give him a few trees to take back to Mkonoo.

At the conclusion of the story, I would say, 'Hadithi yangu imei...' My story it has f...' and they would finish the word, 'Isha.' Finished.

I used to like that!