Monday, January 31, 2011

No rest for women

Salama,  it's about 4pm and in a while it should be cool enough to go out and reinsert myself into village life. I'm fortunate that this pumzika (rest) is an option for me, as it's not for the local ladies and kids. I saw an episode on Oprah once and the question was "What invention has had the greatest impact on women?" The panel was composed of women of every decade. The younger women were quick to say computers, the middle aged women voted for washing machines, and one ancient lady  said, in essence, that they were all nuts. It was running water that changed women's lives. I have to agree.

It's beautiful and lush here, but in spite of the rampant greenery there's a notable lack of variety at the village market. Two kinds of greens, tomatoes, onions, and a few other things from the earth. In Mbeya, in 2008, it was just as green, but we were awash in produce. So I asked, and I found out. The only running water in Berega is in the hospital, the hospital workers houses, and a few others, myself included.



Ninety percent of the people here fetch water, and it's not close. There's a faucet down the hill, a long way down the hill. Which means the women and children (Mungu forbid a man should fetch water), go down the hill once or twice a day and carry it uphill on their heads. A bucket weighs about 40 lbs. Look closely at the picture and you'll see 3 buckets on one woman's head. I can't carry one.


Note the 3 water buckets on her head.















This is the Berega River, and now you know why the farmers only grow essentials. Hopefully this will fill up during the much awaited for rainy season




















There is a mobile market which comes to us every Monday. I got mangoes and pineapples there last week, and will stock up again this week. There's also clothes, uniforms, household items...Will go into Morogoro next week and load up on nonessentials. And have lunch out. I hope to find
samosas.












Preschool is good. The kids are cute and sweet, and a total blank slate. I was joking with my daughter-in-law Sarah about a commercial concerning kindergarten preparedness. Not even an issue here. A few kids know a few letters and numbers, but thats about it. Martha (the other teacher) and I are bombarding them with information and so far, so good. I'm not saying it's easy, but it's working. I'm going to be painting the walls here, and that should help as well.

I wanted the sign (New Florida Restaurant), but got the kid too. Haven't eaten there yet, not sure I will.





























This is an English medium school, and it was started recently  in an effort to keep hospital staff in Berega. People with good jobs want their kids to learn English, and if they have to send their kids to a big town to do it, they eventually follow the kids, and there goes the staff. The idea is to follow this with a first grade, then second, on up till seventh. 
My only issue with this is I want to include the kids whose parents can't pay. We're planning to start a homework center for these kids, where they can get extra help and have a place to do school work. A place with books and lanterns and pencils...

Ugali is the local ball of starch. I'm not too fond of it, but this is the ugali factory where maize is turned into ugali

























Salome sifting the maize for bad kernels.


Until then I have Waziri. He's 18, and wants to be a surgeon. I met him in the village and we started talking. I offered to help him and he comes to my house every school night to study English. He's quite a kid. Very smart. On Monday Jessica and her friend start lessons. They're both grown, and work at the hospital as cleaners. So I have 3, and it's only been two weeks. I'm going to need a bigger room eventually, a happy dilemma.

Re MY running water, for which I am thankful hourly. I was having a problem with my tub this week. It wouldn't drain. I'm pretty stoic about most things but for some reason it makes me gag to stand in a non draining tub. I did work out a system involving buckets which, while inconvenient, enabled me to avoid the scum. 
So the other day I grabbed a stick and unscrewed the drain and started scraping away I don't know how many years worth of accumulated hair, dirt... A few minutes before I actually hurled I went to Isaac, who works at the hospital, and is wonderful. He told me to stop, that they have an fundi (craftsman, expert, a guy with a hammer)  for these occasions. Happy to oblige.

Next day the fundi came and I showed him the problem, and what I had done to dehair the drain. He studied the pipes for a while, then went out into the yard and hacked off a branch and stuck it down the drain. Its always good to have an expert on hand. I'm lovin my tub now. And it's a joy to wash without standing in a bucket.

Just got back from a cruise to the village. Bought some peanuts and tomatoes, but all the eggs are gone. I'm in with the locals now. I've promised them pictures if they let me take shots of village life. I'll get them made in Morogoro on Friday. The photoshop better be open or my life isn't worth 2 mangoes. I owe about 30 pictures, and I love to deliver. Everyone loves their pictures.




Home made truck. All the boys have them. Wheels made of rubber slippers.







The ob/gyn guy here said he'd be happy to teach me the basics. Said he'd call me to watch a few times then put me at ground zero. Please understand that I'm not as cavalier about this as I sound. But I do need to know, eventually I'll be somewhere and some woman will come to me in labor. So I need to learn.

That was my week, more or less. Will be using PO Box 320, Berega, Tanzania for right now. Eventually there will be a private box, but for now this is fine. It belongs to the Anglican Diocese, and they can retrieve my stuff without the TRA (Tanz Revenue Authority) shakedown I usually get.

Dear Santa. I would love some flavored teas, and some American coffee for the Bishop. The instant kind, in the little plastic tubes. And for Waziri, I would like an English workbook, with exercises and all that stuff. He's in Form 2, sophomorish, and he's very bright.


These are all over Berega. I just love them. Folks sit there and socialize, or just get out of the sun
















If you send me things, remove them from the packaging and put them in a bubble envelope. It's best if it fits into a PO Box, so we can bypass the TRA.

Trying to stay under the radar till my work permit arrives, not easy for an almost 6 foot mzungu. But third world construction is on my side this time. The road to Berega isn't very long, but it's hellish.I doubt very much if Immigration wants to spend too much time trying to get to me.

Have a student coming soon so this is it for me. Nakupenda. L







 Victor eating a mango. One of the few kids his age who doesnt scream when he looks at me

















Local lady relaxing with her kids. Note the reddish hair on the kids. Usually a sign of malnutrition. Ugali is the staple here, sometimes all folks eat, Its filling, bit nutrition free




Friday, January 21, 2011

Life is good









Liz in Tanzania



Hi,for those of you who saw me just before I left, and to whom I complained frequently and loudly about the cold weather, you have your revenge. Served hot.

I had the presence of mind to change into Dar es Salaam appropriate  clothes before my last flight and got on the plane thinking As God is my witness, I'll never be cold again. Very Scarlett O'hara, minus the retching and the radishes...We landed at 0730. 

The plane door opened and I was wet from head to toe, my Dar clothes already stuck to me (not a pretty sight at my age and weight.) So, I hightailed it to the hotel, where I had a fan AND AC for 36,000 ths/night. Thats 25 USD. And except for business, food, and an evening walk, I stayed there. Because I have a brain. A boiling brain, but a brain nonetheless. 


Met a nice volunteer from Australia as soon as I got to the hotel, Maureen. She's going to Moshi to work on a permaculture project, so we hung out, mostly in my room, cause she couldn't get a room with AC. 

Bayona from Berega came to Dar in the Diocese car to take me to all my meetings and generally help out, and Asante Mungu for him. This is the first time I've had a car at my disposal, and it made everything a lot less deadly. I still have Every Child, but am working for/ with an org called Hands4Africa.org (check it out). So all the perks I'm now experiencing are thanks to them. Thanks Brad.









Got to Berega 2 days ago, I think. The plane ride was long, and I slept little, then 2 days in Dar. So I had a little jet lag, combined with the heat, so maybe a little fuzzy still. Finally crash landed last night about 5pm and slept till morning. Woke up dizzy and couldn't figure out why till I realized I hadn't eaten for almost 24 hrs and was moderately dehydrated. I have rectified the situation and am fine now.

I'd forgotten about the adjustment period, and remember I'm 2 years older than I was last time, and about 30 pounds heavier. Can't do much about the 2 years, but the weight will go away soon enough, now that I need to cook everything I eat. 

So, you should see my house. I'm livin' large. There's a hospital in Berega, with housing for staff. Although I'm not staff, the Anglican Church is running everything and H4A works with them, hence the house. It has 3 bedrooms, indoor toilets (2!!!) and indoor shower/tub. Brad was here last year and said the shower was in bad shape, but he never saw my choo (toilet) in Idweli. Gas stove, AND a gas fridge. I must have an angel hovering.

I arrived late the first night, was greeted by Isaac and his very pregnant wife Ruth, who fed me and sent me home to sleep. So I didn't get a chance to see much of the house, just went to sleep, but I woke early and went out the back  door. There's a porch, and nothing but trees and bushes and the mountains for my grateful eyes. So that's where I have my coffee in the am. 

Yesterday we went down the road, and what a road it is, to meet the village executives. Nice guys, helpful, didn't laugh at my Kiswahili, which by the way is improving already. I'm not good at judging ages, so was unsure who to shikamoo (polite greeting to an elder, shows you were raised right.) I apologized and as it turns out, there was only one person there to shikamoo. I tell you, by African standards, I'm pretty damn old. I will be meeting two of those men tomorrow to show them pictures of the walls we do. They're both involved in education, so this should be productive.

Took a walk up to the village proper, found all the little maduka (stores). So now I know where to go to get my tomatoes and greens, stuff like that. Only one kid, about a year old, actually started crying. But I've been the first mzungu a kid has seen on previous trips, so I don't take it personally. I will, however, start walking around with little candies (thanks, Joanne) in my pocket to grease the skids. The rest of the kids just stood around hollering Mzungu, Mzungu like everywhere else. I introduced myself and told them all the other ways they could address me besides mzungu. And like always, as I walk away all I can hear is Mzungu, Mzungu. Some things never change.

Took a tour of the hospital, but that's another email entirely.

So, I'm here, happy and healthy. After this I'm going to meet Ute, who runs the orphanage. She came here about 20 years ago, and never left. 

Carlee, binti, pls send me some of those teas we had in Kyela. If you can find the red currant one I will love you forever. Don't have my own PO Box yet, so stuff can be sent to me at PO Box 320, Berega, Tanzania.

I met the Bishop, nice man with a thing for American coffee. So if anyone wants to, send some of the little single serve packets. Thanks. Other than that, I have everything and a back porch. Can't complain.

Re the pictures, just some snaps of Dar. I liked the chairs, just goes to show you there's room in the world for even the old and broken. Dar is about 40 years behind in their traffic infrastructure, and it can take half an hour to go a mile. Every day but Sat and Sun. Most of the road pics were taken from a moving car, but check out the shot of the loaded bikes. Hard work and in the heat. The mats are rolled and placed on tree branches for travelers to see and buy, I bought one.





So, everyone keep in touch. Like always, I can only send gangmails, but that shouldn't stop you from writing now and again.



Nakupenda wote, na karibu nyumbani. (Love to all and welcome to my house)

Mama Liz (again) or Mzungu, if you must.