Up To My Knees In It

Someday I'd like to go to China. Not to see the Great Wall, or the temples, or wherever it is Chairman Mao has been interred. What I want, instead, is to stand in the middle of the street surrounded by bicycles and vent my frustration about the crap they send to Africa. How can it be that the nation that invented gunpowder, built the Great Wall, and first used toilet paper (that may have been the Egyptians), not be able to manufacture a decent battery or a pencil that doesn't lose its tip every five minutes, or toilet tank innards that don't leak all over my freaking floor? I could have planted rice.

This is when you know you're in the country.

There are two toilets in my house, and generally at least one is functional, so I guess I shouldn't bitch. But I'm down to one now, and it needs to be bucket flushed. About two weeks ago a wire inside the tank rusted out. Berega water is chumvi chumvi (salty), so this happens upon occasion. Usually I don't call the fundi right away, because I still have another choo and they know it, so won't come anyway. They may say kesho (manana), but it's low on their list. And given that they use a pit in the ground I try not to get too verklempt about my second flushing toilet.

Their moms tried to convince me these
kids are 5 years old. But they are 3,
and along with 6 others, make up our
PRE pre-school. They cry a lot, are
only barely toilet trained, but look so
damn cute in the uniforms.

Unfortunately, the other day my tank sprung a leak, not a significant leak, but a leak nonetheless. Sometime the following day it became significant enough that I had to use every towel in the house to mop it up. Remember now, this is Africa, and construction being what it is, all the maji rushed downhill to my bedroom, the spare bedroom, and the living room, as well as the other bathroom with the toilet that doesn't flush.

With 64 kids, at any given moment
someone is losing a tooth.

I went up to Isaac's house to ask him to call the fundi then rushed back to my house to wait for the fundi that never came. About two hours later I called Isaac, just before he went to bed, and asked where the hell the fundi got to. He was shangaa sana as he thought the matter was solved. We do live in hope here.

He came down with Barton to attempt a quick fix, but neither of these sweet guys are fundis. They fiddled around for a while, pointed at lots of stuff, like guys do, during which time I got my giant squeegee thing and tried to push back the rising tide. It was about two inches deep in some places. I threw all my saturated towels outside and began on the blankets. It's hot out now so I won't be needing them for a couple of months.

Teacher Martha and the kids learning to play
checkers, or draughts, as they call it here.

Finally they called Bayona, not the originally contacted fundi, but a fundi nonetheless. He came and fiddled around a bit, pointed at a lot of stuff and ended up disconnecting the flexible pipe that goes to the tank, folded it back on itself, and tied it with a piece of rubber tubing.

Then he took out most of the insides of the tank and called Titus, who lives in Morogoro, who said he'd bring up the part in the morning.
Well that didn't happen (no surprise there) maybe tomorrow. He knows I've still got another toilet, what he doesn't know is it doesn't flush. And as it's not a pit in the ground I'm not planning to suck around for sympathy which would not be forthcoming anyway.

CMy grand-daughter Ayla let me have
her tiara for the kids. Evander is 12,
male, and in Standard 1. He was math
winner that day and proudly wore the
crown. You can only do this here.

Now if it was Brad with the plumbing issues, you could bet your socks there would be a fundi or three working up a sweat over this. But I'm a woman, and I'm not the boss, so it gets fixed when it gets fixed. Added to that, it will take at least two or three tries, most likely three. TIA. Not to mention,(oh why not), the sink in the toilet leaks, and it's been fixed four times. I don't even bother with it, there's three sinks in my house so there's no way in hell the fundis are getting worked up over this. I'm thinking of planting geraniums in it. The light is good on that side of the house. Maybe goldfish.

There's one fundi, the sweetest guy ever, who comes to fix things now and again. While he does show up and he does try, he always forgets that when you disconnect a pipe, maji itaondoka. Water will come out. Every time. He always acts so surprised about the whole thing, as I scramble to throw down all my towels. I suppose I'm just as dopey. I should have the towels right by the door to save time. But as I said, we live in hope.

I did ask if we could turn off the maji, like you'd do anywhere else in the world, but this isn't anywhere else in the world, it's here, and you can't turn off the water. In defense of my friends, the fundis, pit toilets being the norm, it makes sense that they'd have trouble fixing a western toilet. Or have I been here too long?

Like the loose teeth, someone's
usually crying. Mostly over nothing.

Skool Nooze:
1. Enrollment is up from the six original kids to 64.
2. Even the chekechea kids are reading English and Kiswahili. It's amazing.
3. Magubike, the village down the road, has enrolled 11 kids. They are transported by the Hands4Africa driver, Abdallah.
4. We started Standard 2 in January.
5. We just got new tables because the kids were sitting on top of each other, and will probably need more soon.
6. We have hired 2 new chekechea teachers. That brings us up to 5.
7. We hired a teachers aide, the mother of one of our students, and she's working off her fees helping out with the kids.
8. Teachers have sent us unsolicited employment applications. Word is spreading.

Free day before vacation. The kids could
choose to go home early or stay and
play. Most stayed.

General Hands4Africa News
1. The plantation is now employing 60 people, 60 happy people who now have steady work.
2. Parents who want to send their kids to our school can get the fees working for us.
3. The naysayers are now yeasayers.
4. We have jatropha seedlings doing well.
5. Mipango Pub is doing a thriving business, thanks in part to the a portion of the 60 people now gainfully employed by Hands4Africa. It trickles down.

My one attempt at killing my food.

I don't want you to think it's all butterflies and sunshine. We've got problems. We're bursting at the seams and need to start building the actual school, complete with boarding facilities. It's the only way we will succeed. Right now we're in the black. Of the hospital, the nursing school and us, the school is the only thing not running at a deficit.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of having a pit toilet dug in my backyard. No moving parts, relatively maintenance free, and it's a great place to throw trash.
L

I'm such a wimp.

Update: It took 4 visits, but both toilets work again. My towels and blankets are dry, But now the light in the toilet doesn't work. I have a flashlight so as long as my supply of American made batteries (thanks boss) lasts, I'm ok.