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.