Thursday, September 29, 2005
What a day! Maybe pride goeth before a fall, but I gotta say that tonight I feel rather proud, and it is a warm and thoroughly intoxicating feeling. It’s like this:
This morning I was able to teach our school secretary Pude how to create an organization chart using Word. That was just plain fun. Then the coordinator of our entrepreneurship course arrived and we were able to get approval for our Nsumba students to stay at school for a few extra days to complete their Business Plans. That month-long closure after the August riot had really scrunched them for time.
Later, on my way downtown by bicycle I stopped at a minerals laboratory to see if it might perform, or allow me to perform, tests on eucalyptus samples from Ngara. They couldn’t, but they directed me to their other lab in Mwanza. That lab turned out to be fabulous: Scrupulously clean and orderly with quite modern instrumentation for water quality, microbiology, and petroleum analyses. Whoda thunk, in Mwanza? Edson Msangula, Manager of Quant. Analyt. Svcs. was sharp and quick, and so was his assistant, Josephat Maganga. They were proud of their facilities and gave me a tour, introducing me to several impressive technicians along the way. They immediately understood my needs, and volunteered to set up a small apparatus where we could steam distill eucalyptus samples to determine their oil content. BINGO!!
On arriving home, I called my friend in Ngara to give him the good news. Gunje had received my last letter with its reprints of eucalyptus articles, and was wondering how to proceed. I will be away during next week for our Close of Service Conference, but it turns out that Gunje will be coming to Mwanza that weekend, right after I return. So he can bring leaf samples with him and we can work on them right away. How about that?
Is something wrong here? Stuff just doesn’t fall into place this way. Is there a waterfall around the next bend in the stream, or is the universe just playing games, smiling and making up for all those landmines that seem to waylay the best of plans?
That left me just enough time to take a quick shower – it was a pretty hot day to be riding from town on a bicycle - before heading out to Bondeni’s watering hole for a beer and a committee meeting to plan the actual program for the graduation ceremony. It was kinda hard to take notes after dusk at our table under the stars, but we got it done anyway.
I’m getting enough requests to stay after my time here is over to make me feel wanted and appreciated. It is a nice feeling, even though my immediate desire is to rejoin Myrna and then get things in order in Philadelphia.
And after all that I came back home to find that my electricity has been turned back on – halleluiah, the problem had been a fuse at the meter – so I don’t have to try to read by kerosene lamp again tonight.
Can I put some of today in a bottle to save it for one of those inevitable other types of day? Can I share it around to other people who need it?
This morning I was able to teach our school secretary Pude how to create an organization chart using Word. That was just plain fun. Then the coordinator of our entrepreneurship course arrived and we were able to get approval for our Nsumba students to stay at school for a few extra days to complete their Business Plans. That month-long closure after the August riot had really scrunched them for time.
Later, on my way downtown by bicycle I stopped at a minerals laboratory to see if it might perform, or allow me to perform, tests on eucalyptus samples from Ngara. They couldn’t, but they directed me to their other lab in Mwanza. That lab turned out to be fabulous: Scrupulously clean and orderly with quite modern instrumentation for water quality, microbiology, and petroleum analyses. Whoda thunk, in Mwanza? Edson Msangula, Manager of Quant. Analyt. Svcs. was sharp and quick, and so was his assistant, Josephat Maganga. They were proud of their facilities and gave me a tour, introducing me to several impressive technicians along the way. They immediately understood my needs, and volunteered to set up a small apparatus where we could steam distill eucalyptus samples to determine their oil content. BINGO!!
On arriving home, I called my friend in Ngara to give him the good news. Gunje had received my last letter with its reprints of eucalyptus articles, and was wondering how to proceed. I will be away during next week for our Close of Service Conference, but it turns out that Gunje will be coming to Mwanza that weekend, right after I return. So he can bring leaf samples with him and we can work on them right away. How about that?
Is something wrong here? Stuff just doesn’t fall into place this way. Is there a waterfall around the next bend in the stream, or is the universe just playing games, smiling and making up for all those landmines that seem to waylay the best of plans?
That left me just enough time to take a quick shower – it was a pretty hot day to be riding from town on a bicycle - before heading out to Bondeni’s watering hole for a beer and a committee meeting to plan the actual program for the graduation ceremony. It was kinda hard to take notes after dusk at our table under the stars, but we got it done anyway.
I’m getting enough requests to stay after my time here is over to make me feel wanted and appreciated. It is a nice feeling, even though my immediate desire is to rejoin Myrna and then get things in order in Philadelphia.
And after all that I came back home to find that my electricity has been turned back on – halleluiah, the problem had been a fuse at the meter – so I don’t have to try to read by kerosene lamp again tonight.
Can I put some of today in a bottle to save it for one of those inevitable other types of day? Can I share it around to other people who need it?
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
My post-Peace Corps plans have gone through all kinds of changes and permutations, but seem to have reached a definition, now. The best deal to fly to India was with Emirates Air, and that gives me a chance for a one-day layover in Dubai on the way. And Dubai, they say, is the best place in the world to buy electronics. So I will use this opportunity to replace my broken PDA, and maybe even get one of those ipods that seem to be so much in the news. It is tempting to think about a new laptop too, but that would clearly be an extravagance and a lot of additional weight to carry around the world.
Since it appears that very little of my family will be around Philadelphia come Christmas, I will then fly directly to Guatemala to spend Christmas with Myrna and her family. My biggest fear in that decision is that I’m afraid that after two years, my Spanish may not be much better than my Kiswahili. Hope it comes back quickly, at least. I can occasionally get a Spanish station on short wave in the middle of the night, broadcasting from China of all places, but it is never clear. I hope that is why I understand so little of it.
Since it appears that very little of my family will be around Philadelphia come Christmas, I will then fly directly to Guatemala to spend Christmas with Myrna and her family. My biggest fear in that decision is that I’m afraid that after two years, my Spanish may not be much better than my Kiswahili. Hope it comes back quickly, at least. I can occasionally get a Spanish station on short wave in the middle of the night, broadcasting from China of all places, but it is never clear. I hope that is why I understand so little of it.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Friday, Sept 24
Yesterday I wrote all that stuff in this Journal about how awful my school is and how ominous if feels. And today...
I took a bunch of the flip charts I’ve used in presenting material and posted them in the various classrooms for students to look at or study or ignore or whatever. I was surprised to get a lot of good comments and help in putting up the charts. Even some interest from kids who are not taking chemistry.
Several students saw me outside my house and came over, just to talk. It turns out that there now will be a graduation ceremony for the For-IV students, just informal instead of the usual more formal one. I gather that basically means no Honored Guest Speakers. The students were concerned that I be there, it is important to them. That is a question, actually, because I will be in Arusha until the day before for our Close of Service Conference, and transportation to get back quickly is an issue.
Walking the campus, I am greeted by many students. Three groups of students gave me their Final Projects to mark – groups of about six students are supposed to visit a local industry, like a soap or match manufacturer or the Coke bottling plant, then write a report on it. It is clear that a lot of work, or copying, went into these Projects.
This evening I went to visit Ryan at Nganza next door. His school, an all girl’s school, had their graduation today, and when I got there they were having a dance with a DJ and big speakers for lots of sound. There was food and soda for everybody, beer for the staff. The girls were dancing up a storm, it was great to watch them. Tanzanian girls dance with lots and lots of hip action, and really get into it. In the middle of cramming for the National Exam and preparing skits, songs, and poems for their graduation, this evening was the emotional release. They all screamed whenever the DJ started a new song. The spirit in Ryan’s school is just fabulous!
And this morning I met one of our business course instructors downtown and he was so appreciative and complimentary about what I have done to help get this program going. He was looking for ways to make sure I would be here next year to make sure that it keeps going.
So it ain’t all bad, here. Sometimes it feels pretty damn good.
<<<>>>
There is something surreal about following the progress of Rita as she slowly pulls Texas and Louisiana to her breast, as I sit here reading John Updike on my front porch on this cloudless, hot, still day. It is all by BBC news headlines on every hour and half hour. The texts are repetitive, but then the changes seem even more significant. Rita is moving eastward. Winds are slackening but she is still very dangerous. It is not raining in New Orleans but portions of the city have re-flooded anyway. Emergency workers in Beaumont can only sit and wait for the winds to die down. She is expected to stall after making landfall. Galveston and Houston will be spared the brunt of her attack...
Yesterday I wrote all that stuff in this Journal about how awful my school is and how ominous if feels. And today...
I took a bunch of the flip charts I’ve used in presenting material and posted them in the various classrooms for students to look at or study or ignore or whatever. I was surprised to get a lot of good comments and help in putting up the charts. Even some interest from kids who are not taking chemistry.
Several students saw me outside my house and came over, just to talk. It turns out that there now will be a graduation ceremony for the For-IV students, just informal instead of the usual more formal one. I gather that basically means no Honored Guest Speakers. The students were concerned that I be there, it is important to them. That is a question, actually, because I will be in Arusha until the day before for our Close of Service Conference, and transportation to get back quickly is an issue.
Walking the campus, I am greeted by many students. Three groups of students gave me their Final Projects to mark – groups of about six students are supposed to visit a local industry, like a soap or match manufacturer or the Coke bottling plant, then write a report on it. It is clear that a lot of work, or copying, went into these Projects.
This evening I went to visit Ryan at Nganza next door. His school, an all girl’s school, had their graduation today, and when I got there they were having a dance with a DJ and big speakers for lots of sound. There was food and soda for everybody, beer for the staff. The girls were dancing up a storm, it was great to watch them. Tanzanian girls dance with lots and lots of hip action, and really get into it. In the middle of cramming for the National Exam and preparing skits, songs, and poems for their graduation, this evening was the emotional release. They all screamed whenever the DJ started a new song. The spirit in Ryan’s school is just fabulous!
And this morning I met one of our business course instructors downtown and he was so appreciative and complimentary about what I have done to help get this program going. He was looking for ways to make sure I would be here next year to make sure that it keeps going.
So it ain’t all bad, here. Sometimes it feels pretty damn good.
<<<
There is something surreal about following the progress of Rita as she slowly pulls Texas and Louisiana to her breast, as I sit here reading John Updike on my front porch on this cloudless, hot, still day. It is all by BBC news headlines on every hour and half hour. The texts are repetitive, but then the changes seem even more significant. Rita is moving eastward. Winds are slackening but she is still very dangerous. It is not raining in New Orleans but portions of the city have re-flooded anyway. Emergency workers in Beaumont can only sit and wait for the winds to die down. She is expected to stall after making landfall. Galveston and Houston will be spared the brunt of her attack...
Thursday, September 22, 2005
This school feels like a time bomb. The atmosphere is surly. The scar of the riot has not healed and nobody is putting any balm on it. The traditional graduation ceremony for Form-IV students has been cancelled.
There isn’t much teaching going on. None for the Form-IVs (11th graders) that I teach. As is the tradition, the Form-IVs have been excused from manual tasks and required activities so they can concentrate on preparing themselves for the National Exam that is a week and a half away. And as is the tradition, the Form-IVs don’t want teachers around because they think they can study better by themselves.
The other teachers are not going to Form-IV classes at all. Yesterday, my first full day back from Morogoro, I went to all the classes I teach, briefly, to tell them that I would be in the laboratory where, if they wanted, we could go over old exam questions or I would be available to answer any chemistry questions they might have or help with any topic they were not sure of.
Nobody came.
The Headmaster stuck his head in while I was reading a weird fiction article from a New Yorker magazine there. He advised me not to bother even trying to teach my classes, that it is of no use. So why am I here?
Yesterday I went early to the Morning Parade – unusual for me – to hear the announcements and find out what is going on around the school. As usual, a student took the stage to give a brief talk in English. The Discipline Master stopped him and said he wasn’t fit to be in front of the students. He finally figured out what was wrong: His shirt wasn’t tucked in properly. He tried to tuck it in, to much student laughter, but wasn’t having much success. He melted off the stage without giving his talk. The poor guy. The Parade ended in 15 minutes, the shortest Parade in history. The Headmaster arrived two minutes later and seemed to have things he wanted to say but it was too late for him.
The school is plastered with SPEAK ENGLISH ONLY signs. Several of them are ripped.
Today’s Morning Parade was a long harangue about not studying hard enough and too much noise during the evening study periods. Then a diatribe about not speaking English – it appears that especially the Form-IVs want nothing to do with English. Students who hadn’t swept their area of the grounds sufficiently were identified for punishment but most of them were not at the Parade at all, a major offense in itself. Finally the Headmaster took the stage and gave a long talk about the student who had been caught in the nearby village during school hours. A chair was brought for him to bend over and the Discipline Master whipped him (five hard strokes) in front of the assembly.
Attention. Left turn. Right turn. About face. At ease. Go to your classes.
There isn’t much teaching going on. None for the Form-IVs (11th graders) that I teach. As is the tradition, the Form-IVs have been excused from manual tasks and required activities so they can concentrate on preparing themselves for the National Exam that is a week and a half away. And as is the tradition, the Form-IVs don’t want teachers around because they think they can study better by themselves.
The other teachers are not going to Form-IV classes at all. Yesterday, my first full day back from Morogoro, I went to all the classes I teach, briefly, to tell them that I would be in the laboratory where, if they wanted, we could go over old exam questions or I would be available to answer any chemistry questions they might have or help with any topic they were not sure of.
Nobody came.
The Headmaster stuck his head in while I was reading a weird fiction article from a New Yorker magazine there. He advised me not to bother even trying to teach my classes, that it is of no use. So why am I here?
Yesterday I went early to the Morning Parade – unusual for me – to hear the announcements and find out what is going on around the school. As usual, a student took the stage to give a brief talk in English. The Discipline Master stopped him and said he wasn’t fit to be in front of the students. He finally figured out what was wrong: His shirt wasn’t tucked in properly. He tried to tuck it in, to much student laughter, but wasn’t having much success. He melted off the stage without giving his talk. The poor guy. The Parade ended in 15 minutes, the shortest Parade in history. The Headmaster arrived two minutes later and seemed to have things he wanted to say but it was too late for him.
The school is plastered with SPEAK ENGLISH ONLY signs. Several of them are ripped.
Today’s Morning Parade was a long harangue about not studying hard enough and too much noise during the evening study periods. Then a diatribe about not speaking English – it appears that especially the Form-IVs want nothing to do with English. Students who hadn’t swept their area of the grounds sufficiently were identified for punishment but most of them were not at the Parade at all, a major offense in itself. Finally the Headmaster took the stage and gave a long talk about the student who had been caught in the nearby village during school hours. A chair was brought for him to bend over and the Discipline Master whipped him (five hard strokes) in front of the assembly.
Attention. Left turn. Right turn. About face. At ease. Go to your classes.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
It has been a good week, a welcome break from the routine. I came to Morogoro along with about 8-9 other PCVs to work with the headquarters staff to plan the 10-week training program for the next group of Trainees. There should be 37 of them, arriving on the 22nd from the USA. We are staying at a Conference Center called WAMO – it really is quite nice. Large attractive grounds, nice buildings, hot water for the showers if you are the first person up in the morning. It is especially welcome to be together with the other volunteers that we rarely see – and also Janna and Kara, who are also from the Lake Region.
There is really a tremendous amount of planning and coordination that goes into planning these training programs. Also, it has evolved into a system that is fundamentally different from the program that greeted my group. The change is for the better. The volunteers immediately meet their local host families, and most of their training takes place in local schools instead of at a central location.
But Morogoro, it turns out, is a center of forestry research. So in addition to participating in the meetings here, I was able to get a lot of background information about eucalyptus trees in Tanzania to help my friend Gunje, near the border with Burundi and Rwanda. A couple of Gerry Hertel’s contacts are here, and I did manage to make contact with them, and they led me to still others. There is a lot of governmental interest in non-fuel forestry products right now, like the extraction of essential oils. Unfortunately, from the reports I have seen this week, the effort is very bureaucratic and basically involves forming committees to assess the potential and set national goals and think about structuring training programs. It will take eons for any of that effort to make something real happen.
It turns out that there are no native eucalyptus trees in Tanzania, they were all introduced here from other areas. However, the UNHCR organized major planting projects along the western border in 1975 because the genocide refugees living in camps were chopping down all the trees they could find for firewood. If we are lucky, we will be able to find UN records to tell us what was planted, where, and how extensively. Also, it raises hope that the species that were planted will prove useful, and not just junk.
I’ve heard that there are three distillers of essential oils in Dar es Salaam. The three of us from the Lake Region have to go back through Dar, and I am thinking that it would be worthwhile to take one extra day to look up the distillers to see their operations and find out what facilities and willingness they have to analyze a number of Eucalyptus samples from the Ngara region.
Meanwhile, while all this is going on, my post-PC plans keep evolving. I began by planning to spend a month in India, a month in China with Matt and his family and a good chunk of time in Seattle with Ellen, and finally a month exploring National Parks and stuff in the USA. But Myrna isn’t happy with all this additional time before we get together again, and really, our reunion has a strong pull for me too. So I dropped the idea for western USA travels; Myrna and I can do that together if we choose, later. Then it turns out that Matt and his family are headed to Italy on December 18 so that truncated the Asia schedule and raises questions about Seattle relative to Christmas.
I’m thinking now that I might spend 3-4 weeks in India and then come straight back to Philadelphia to spend a week getting my feet on the ground and bring Myrna up from Guatemala in time for Christmas. I will miss seeing Matt, Paola and the kids, and Ellen, but at least we did have a good chunk of time together during the safari last month.
But that puts both Myrna and me back in Philadelphia just in time for the coldest part of the year, with bodies that are acclimatized to Africa and Guatemala. Ouch. Or, rather: Brrrrrrrrr.
There is really a tremendous amount of planning and coordination that goes into planning these training programs. Also, it has evolved into a system that is fundamentally different from the program that greeted my group. The change is for the better. The volunteers immediately meet their local host families, and most of their training takes place in local schools instead of at a central location.
But Morogoro, it turns out, is a center of forestry research. So in addition to participating in the meetings here, I was able to get a lot of background information about eucalyptus trees in Tanzania to help my friend Gunje, near the border with Burundi and Rwanda. A couple of Gerry Hertel’s contacts are here, and I did manage to make contact with them, and they led me to still others. There is a lot of governmental interest in non-fuel forestry products right now, like the extraction of essential oils. Unfortunately, from the reports I have seen this week, the effort is very bureaucratic and basically involves forming committees to assess the potential and set national goals and think about structuring training programs. It will take eons for any of that effort to make something real happen.
It turns out that there are no native eucalyptus trees in Tanzania, they were all introduced here from other areas. However, the UNHCR organized major planting projects along the western border in 1975 because the genocide refugees living in camps were chopping down all the trees they could find for firewood. If we are lucky, we will be able to find UN records to tell us what was planted, where, and how extensively. Also, it raises hope that the species that were planted will prove useful, and not just junk.
I’ve heard that there are three distillers of essential oils in Dar es Salaam. The three of us from the Lake Region have to go back through Dar, and I am thinking that it would be worthwhile to take one extra day to look up the distillers to see their operations and find out what facilities and willingness they have to analyze a number of Eucalyptus samples from the Ngara region.
Meanwhile, while all this is going on, my post-PC plans keep evolving. I began by planning to spend a month in India, a month in China with Matt and his family and a good chunk of time in Seattle with Ellen, and finally a month exploring National Parks and stuff in the USA. But Myrna isn’t happy with all this additional time before we get together again, and really, our reunion has a strong pull for me too. So I dropped the idea for western USA travels; Myrna and I can do that together if we choose, later. Then it turns out that Matt and his family are headed to Italy on December 18 so that truncated the Asia schedule and raises questions about Seattle relative to Christmas.
I’m thinking now that I might spend 3-4 weeks in India and then come straight back to Philadelphia to spend a week getting my feet on the ground and bring Myrna up from Guatemala in time for Christmas. I will miss seeing Matt, Paola and the kids, and Ellen, but at least we did have a good chunk of time together during the safari last month.
But that puts both Myrna and me back in Philadelphia just in time for the coldest part of the year, with bodies that are acclimatized to Africa and Guatemala. Ouch. Or, rather: Brrrrrrrrr.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
This past week I taught two classes that felt useful and rewarding. But I finished the week with a class that just wasn’t interested, to the point where I walked out before I even began teaching. It was the last period of the day which is always a challenge, and even more so now, when everything is still rather unsettled. By now about half the student body has returned.
***
About two months ago I worked with Christopher Malengo, a student who left school last year because he couldn’t pay school fees to continue. Christopher was considerably older than his classmates – he got a late start in school because both his parents died and his grandmother wasn’t much interested in his education. But he is mature, intelligent, and has a pleasing personality. I got him to write a resume of sorts and coached him on how to conduct a job search and handle a job interview.
At the Rotary Club meeting last Tuesday I got Anand to agree to talk with him, to maybe – or maybe not - offer him training in sales. I had to track Christopher down to the Primary School where he is keeping busy as a volunteer teacher to tell him about his interview. Today, as I was waiting for a daladala he saw me and came over, all excited, to tell me about his interview which he felt went well. He doesn’t have a job offer yet, but the prospects look good.
***
Back in April I had visited my friend Gunje Morrison, who had been promoted to Headmaster ‘way out in the boondocks near the border with Burundi and Rwanda. It is a very poor area, but I’d been surprised by the extensive eucalyptus forests out there. When I got back to Mwanza, I did a brief internet survey on eucalyptus, then wrote to Gunje to see if there would be interest in possibly exploiting the forests to harvest eucalyptus oil. He just called me to say that he had given the letter to a friend who misplaced it until a few days ago, but yes there was lots of interest.
Now, over a year ago I’d written to Dr. Gerry Hertel, a Forest Ecologist & Entomologist, after his work in Kenya was written up in our African newspaper, just because his home base is West Chester University practically next door to my Sister in Downingtown PA. So I renewed that contact and requested his advice. He replied right away, putting me in touch with several eucalyptus experts in Tanzania and Kenya. What a break! It even turns out that one of the experts is based in Morogoro where, incredibly, I will be next week to assist the Peace Corps in planning the pre-service training for the next batch of Peace Corps volunteers.
Until we know more, this venture has to be considered a long shot. There are some 500 species of eucalyptus and only a few of them are commercially useful for oil. But since eucalyptus is not native to East Africa, maybe whoever introduced the trees knew what they were doing. Hopefully we can either kill the idea or confirm its promise quickly. Considering my schedule, I can’t do much more than identify some initial steps and maybe make some connections to help people get started.
Somehow, all kinds of things seem to be popping, just as I am getting involved in the process of getting out of here.
***
About two months ago I worked with Christopher Malengo, a student who left school last year because he couldn’t pay school fees to continue. Christopher was considerably older than his classmates – he got a late start in school because both his parents died and his grandmother wasn’t much interested in his education. But he is mature, intelligent, and has a pleasing personality. I got him to write a resume of sorts and coached him on how to conduct a job search and handle a job interview.
At the Rotary Club meeting last Tuesday I got Anand to agree to talk with him, to maybe – or maybe not - offer him training in sales. I had to track Christopher down to the Primary School where he is keeping busy as a volunteer teacher to tell him about his interview. Today, as I was waiting for a daladala he saw me and came over, all excited, to tell me about his interview which he felt went well. He doesn’t have a job offer yet, but the prospects look good.
***
Back in April I had visited my friend Gunje Morrison, who had been promoted to Headmaster ‘way out in the boondocks near the border with Burundi and Rwanda. It is a very poor area, but I’d been surprised by the extensive eucalyptus forests out there. When I got back to Mwanza, I did a brief internet survey on eucalyptus, then wrote to Gunje to see if there would be interest in possibly exploiting the forests to harvest eucalyptus oil. He just called me to say that he had given the letter to a friend who misplaced it until a few days ago, but yes there was lots of interest.
Now, over a year ago I’d written to Dr. Gerry Hertel, a Forest Ecologist & Entomologist, after his work in Kenya was written up in our African newspaper, just because his home base is West Chester University practically next door to my Sister in Downingtown PA. So I renewed that contact and requested his advice. He replied right away, putting me in touch with several eucalyptus experts in Tanzania and Kenya. What a break! It even turns out that one of the experts is based in Morogoro where, incredibly, I will be next week to assist the Peace Corps in planning the pre-service training for the next batch of Peace Corps volunteers.
Until we know more, this venture has to be considered a long shot. There are some 500 species of eucalyptus and only a few of them are commercially useful for oil. But since eucalyptus is not native to East Africa, maybe whoever introduced the trees knew what they were doing. Hopefully we can either kill the idea or confirm its promise quickly. Considering my schedule, I can’t do much more than identify some initial steps and maybe make some connections to help people get started.
Somehow, all kinds of things seem to be popping, just as I am getting involved in the process of getting out of here.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Not all sex is sweetness and roses.
It is Monday, the start of the second week after school “re-opened,” when we were asked to teach even if we had very few students. We still have very few students. So most of the teachers didn’t teach. I gathered the students from all five of my classes into one, and so had a class of about 15 and proceeded to have the best teaching experience I’ve had here in Tanzania. The students participated and responded, and were alert and involved throughout the whole period. Really left me feeling good.
After that I walked home, surprised to hear some thunder growling in the distance. It has been months since we last had a drop of rain, and everything is brown and scorched. When I got home, I saw that Hodie was outside. I’d been keeping her in as she is in heat again. I wasn’t sure if dogs still went in heat after they were spayed, but they sure do. But my housekeeper had let himself in while I was gone, and obviously Hodie got free. A few minutes later I saw her in the field nearby, locked in place with one of her several boyfriends who have been patrolling the area lately, looking for her. Hodie looked as though it wasn’t fun anymore and could she please go now. I got my camera to take some incriminating pictures of them. Just then it began to rain. Not a little shower, a torrential, tropical, this rain ends the dry season kind of rain. And there they were, the lovebirds, getting drenched, shivering, and unable to even go anyplace sheltered. Ah, the trials of casual sexuality gone wrong.
Hodie is now back inside, slowly drying out, looking very contrite. And I am wondering where in the world I left my umbrella. I hadn’t even thought about my umbrella for months, and now it is nowhere to be seen.
It is Monday, the start of the second week after school “re-opened,” when we were asked to teach even if we had very few students. We still have very few students. So most of the teachers didn’t teach. I gathered the students from all five of my classes into one, and so had a class of about 15 and proceeded to have the best teaching experience I’ve had here in Tanzania. The students participated and responded, and were alert and involved throughout the whole period. Really left me feeling good.
After that I walked home, surprised to hear some thunder growling in the distance. It has been months since we last had a drop of rain, and everything is brown and scorched. When I got home, I saw that Hodie was outside. I’d been keeping her in as she is in heat again. I wasn’t sure if dogs still went in heat after they were spayed, but they sure do. But my housekeeper had let himself in while I was gone, and obviously Hodie got free. A few minutes later I saw her in the field nearby, locked in place with one of her several boyfriends who have been patrolling the area lately, looking for her. Hodie looked as though it wasn’t fun anymore and could she please go now. I got my camera to take some incriminating pictures of them. Just then it began to rain. Not a little shower, a torrential, tropical, this rain ends the dry season kind of rain. And there they were, the lovebirds, getting drenched, shivering, and unable to even go anyplace sheltered. Ah, the trials of casual sexuality gone wrong.
Hodie is now back inside, slowly drying out, looking very contrite. And I am wondering where in the world I left my umbrella. I hadn’t even thought about my umbrella for months, and now it is nowhere to be seen.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Kara came in from Sumve for the weekend, and she is staying here at my “hotel” again. Her school has reopened, three weeks after their disturbance, with about maybe a third or half of the students returned. She seems pretty calm about the whole thing. She feels that she has been able to help a few students in her two years here, and that it shows in a comparison of the score of her classes in Regional test results. Good for her, and good for her students!
Here, Nsumba wanted to reopen on the 29th but now, after a week, only 66 students have registered – about 10% of our student body. We had a staff meeting on Thursday: The most onerous requirements (Tell us in writing why the disturbance took place and name five other students involved) were made optional instead of mandatory, and teachers were requested to begin teaching on Monday even if they have at only 3 students in their class. It is hoped the students who are known to be in the area but not coming in will start registering over the weekend, now.
Ryan, Kara and I dropped in on our expat friend Peter yesterday afternoon, taking along beer and pizza, to watch CNN reports on the situation in New Orleans and the South. The pictures were dreadful, but this did seem to be the first day (Sept 3rd) when some order and coordination was taking hold. New Orleans was the headline on the major Tanzanian English language newspaper yesterday. No one can understand why the US, with all its resources and military power, took four days to get an effective, organized relief effort underway in its own country.
My house in Philadelphia has been vacant since the end of July, and we have not found new renters to take it on a month-to-month basis before I get back in February or so. Yesterday Allegra and Glenn suggested that we make the house available to a New Orleans family for that period by working with Church World Service or some other religious organization. This seems like a wonderful idea, and I’ve told them to go ahead and offer the house.
I also went to my favorite travel agent yesterday to begin planning my exodus from Africa. I’m would like to fly to New Delhi about November 14th, then to Beijing about December 5th, and on to Seattle about December 12th. That will take some tight fitting, since I want to stay here at Nsumba until the graduation of the students from my business course on November 5th, followed by a week of meeting with incoming PC volunteers Nov. 7-12. Somewhere in there I am supposed to have three days of medical checkups and stuff.
Here, Nsumba wanted to reopen on the 29th but now, after a week, only 66 students have registered – about 10% of our student body. We had a staff meeting on Thursday: The most onerous requirements (Tell us in writing why the disturbance took place and name five other students involved) were made optional instead of mandatory, and teachers were requested to begin teaching on Monday even if they have at only 3 students in their class. It is hoped the students who are known to be in the area but not coming in will start registering over the weekend, now.
Ryan, Kara and I dropped in on our expat friend Peter yesterday afternoon, taking along beer and pizza, to watch CNN reports on the situation in New Orleans and the South. The pictures were dreadful, but this did seem to be the first day (Sept 3rd) when some order and coordination was taking hold. New Orleans was the headline on the major Tanzanian English language newspaper yesterday. No one can understand why the US, with all its resources and military power, took four days to get an effective, organized relief effort underway in its own country.
My house in Philadelphia has been vacant since the end of July, and we have not found new renters to take it on a month-to-month basis before I get back in February or so. Yesterday Allegra and Glenn suggested that we make the house available to a New Orleans family for that period by working with Church World Service or some other religious organization. This seems like a wonderful idea, and I’ve told them to go ahead and offer the house.
I also went to my favorite travel agent yesterday to begin planning my exodus from Africa. I’m would like to fly to New Delhi about November 14th, then to Beijing about December 5th, and on to Seattle about December 12th. That will take some tight fitting, since I want to stay here at Nsumba until the graduation of the students from my business course on November 5th, followed by a week of meeting with incoming PC volunteers Nov. 7-12. Somewhere in there I am supposed to have three days of medical checkups and stuff.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
It is hard to listen to the BBC and hear the increasingly dire news from the Gulf Coast and especially New Orleans. I'm told that the TV pictures are very graphic and just awful. It all makes me feel so very far away.
** **** **
Oh my. I looked up Tini Bennett on Google to see if I could find contact information for her and keep in touch regarding the school she is starting at Starehe. Yes: She has her resume there and it focuses on her feelings about Africa and Starehe and what she has and will accomplish there. I include it here, because in it she is so exquisite in describing what Starehe is and does.
Name: Kristina BennettSchool: Atlanta International School, USAYear of graduation: 1998
My name is Kristina Bennett. I graduated from the Atlanta International School in 1998. After attending University in London, England, and graduating with a primary teaching qualification I fulfilled a life long dream by moving to Africa. In August 2002 I arrived in Mwanza, Tanzania to begin teaching six-year-old children at Isamilo International School.
I love teaching, and Isamilo is a fantastic school, but since it mainly caters to expatriate children or very wealthy families, I wanted to get involved in local projects to actually make my ‘African experience’ more meaningful. Isamilo School runs a project called Saturday Club. It is a club that was initiated by one of the teachers several years ago and was designed to provide some sort of education for street children and AIDS orphans. Every Saturday we have about 70 children that come to our school for one hour of English lessons. Most of these children are street children or AIDS orphans raising younger siblings, and who thus never had the opportunity to go to school. Some of the teachers and the older pupils at school teach them English and then they have free roam of the facilities, including the pool and the soccer field and the basketball court.
I teach six kids - actually they aren’t really kids. They don’t live like children and are all taller than me (about two feet taller!). Some work as cleaners or gardeners and others are farmers. Most though have no jobs and survive by doing odd jobs or begging. Their English is very basic, but they study hard and will remember everything mentioned in the lessons. Their goal is to learn enough English to be employed by some of the expatriates as a driver or guard or by one of the English speaking companies. Learning English seems to be the key to accomplish something in life here in Tanzania.
Working at Saturday Club has been quite depressing at times. The children really don’t have anything and work so hard, yet life is everything but easy for them. Some of the kids live on the streets and can be seen begging around shops in the evening. They seem to have enough to eat, but very little else.
On the other hand Saturday Club is one of the best things here for me. I really enjoy most of it because the children are so appreciative and enjoy being at school so much. Swimming after the English lessons is really the highlight, as they all jump in (none of them can swim!) and have the time of their lives. If one of us goes in with them, usually about 30 kids will pile on top of you or try to hold your hand, all the while screaming ‘teacher, teacher!’ It really is so much fun and I hope that it will help these children accomplish what they are aiming for.
Another project I am involved in, and which seems to take up most evenings and the rest of the weekend, is volunteering at Starehe Orphanage. It is a local orphanage run by a Canadian couple that provides a home for about 85 children.
The orphanage is split into two houses, one for the older children (six years and up) and one for the babies and toddlers. There is one adult that lives with the older children, yet the children are entirely self-sufficient. They cook their own food, wash their own clothes and clean their own living space. The older ones are very protective of the younger ones and there seems to be a very family-like relationship among them. They have rather nice buildings (sponsored by a Canadian church), yet again, little else. I think they may have one soccer ball, but that’s pretty much it. Most of the older children go to an English speaking school, but the fees are too high and thus some only go every other term. Not one of them goes to secondary school as those fees are even higher.
When I go to Starehe I spend most of my time with the babies though. They seem to need it much more than the older ones, as they have largely become used to the fact that they don’t have their own families and thus rely on each other for support. The atmosphere in the baby section is very different. Many of the children have only recently lost their mothers and thus miss the affection and attention that she may have provided. They can be seen babbling ‘mama, mama, mama’ and are on the constant lookout for her.
Many of them are also still suffering the affects of having lived in very poor and desperate conditions, so that they are still recovering from malnourishment and medical needs that they acquired through poor hygiene and diet. Some of the babies are very sick. There was one little boy called Kevin who had sickle cell anemia. Diseases like that aren’t treated in Africa, especially not in children that are suspected to have AIDS, and most children die very young. He passed away just days before his first birthday and still weighed less than ten pounds. Seeing him die was among the hardest things I have ever had to endure.
Kevin’s twin sister on the other hand looks very healthy and is the sunshine among the babies. She cries very little and always smiles. Her babbling is unstoppable and I dare anyone not to fall in love with her.
There is another child, called Hamisa, who has cerebral palsy and again doesn’t receive the proper medical attention or physiotherapy. I didn’t realize that children who have this disease (to the degree to which she has it) are still so responsive. It was difficult to tell at first, but now I find it very easy to detect her moods. She has also perfected the use of her left leg, as a means to make herself clearly understood…if she doesn’t like something or someone, she has an evil kick that will usually take care of things. She also uses it to gain attention and I often have a little left foot poking my side if I have neglected to play and joke with her first. She has come a long way since I first started going to Starehe. She tries very hard and spends long hours trying to grasp a single thing. She tries relentlessly and if she does manage to maneuver the desired item she shrieks in excitement. Yesterday I watched her for two hours trying to pick up a sock. It was too large for her to grasp, but her hard work paid off and she eventually managed to move it ten centimeters to the left, which overjoyed her. Hamisa's determination is really admirable.
There are so many other stories - some sad, some happy. Some children obviously suffer more than others, and thus need more love and attention. The nurses who take care of them are very nice, but as they also come from pretty poor living conditions, they don’t really see that these children need even more than they are providing for them.
At the end of the day they have a roof over their heads, clean clothes, and food. With the money that our fundraising has generated we have been able to improve a lot of things. All the children now go to school. Previously funds had run out and so the children were taking turns. Additionally we have been able to persuade a kind Dutch doctor to come to Starehe and look at most of the children who had some sort of ailment. I have been able to buy medicines from the funds and all the children now get vitamins every day and fresh milk twice a week. It seems like very little but it is the little things that make the difference and help these children.
I love going to the orphanage. It is heart-wrenching sometimes, as I just want to take them all home with me, but I guess I put a smile on their faces every time I go and that has to be enough for now.
So that’s what I do when I’m not dillydallying around the market, taking trips to Zanzibar, or teaching at school. The more time I spend in Tanzania, the more I see myself drawn to these projects. Teaching is wonderful but I have to admit that the highlight of my day comes when I get to Starehe and from every corner children start running towards me screaming my name and looking absolutely overjoyed. I love it there, and I wish you could all see the kids. They truly melt hearts with their big brown eyes and warm smiles.
I knew that coming to Africa would have a big impact. I never expected it to be as it is. Most days I love it, but when my children get ill, or I have malaria, or the power and water gets cut for a week I find staying positive very difficult. Despite everything I feel very fortunate to have experienced this. I will remember these children for the rest of my life and hope that I have made a positive impact on their little lives. They certainly have on mine.
If you or someone you know would like to learn more about my fundraising you could contact me at tinibennett@yahoo.com . I have also set up an account in the US for Starehe Children’s Home and checks can be sent to Tini Bennett, 31 Winghaven Lane, Fort Pierce Florida, 34949 (made payable to Starehe Children’s Home). Pictures of Starehe can be found at Http://www.ambeny.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk
** **** **
Oh my. I looked up Tini Bennett on Google to see if I could find contact information for her and keep in touch regarding the school she is starting at Starehe. Yes: She has her resume there and it focuses on her feelings about Africa and Starehe and what she has and will accomplish there. I include it here, because in it she is so exquisite in describing what Starehe is and does.
Name: Kristina BennettSchool: Atlanta International School, USAYear of graduation: 1998
My name is Kristina Bennett. I graduated from the Atlanta International School in 1998. After attending University in London, England, and graduating with a primary teaching qualification I fulfilled a life long dream by moving to Africa. In August 2002 I arrived in Mwanza, Tanzania to begin teaching six-year-old children at Isamilo International School.
I love teaching, and Isamilo is a fantastic school, but since it mainly caters to expatriate children or very wealthy families, I wanted to get involved in local projects to actually make my ‘African experience’ more meaningful. Isamilo School runs a project called Saturday Club. It is a club that was initiated by one of the teachers several years ago and was designed to provide some sort of education for street children and AIDS orphans. Every Saturday we have about 70 children that come to our school for one hour of English lessons. Most of these children are street children or AIDS orphans raising younger siblings, and who thus never had the opportunity to go to school. Some of the teachers and the older pupils at school teach them English and then they have free roam of the facilities, including the pool and the soccer field and the basketball court.
I teach six kids - actually they aren’t really kids. They don’t live like children and are all taller than me (about two feet taller!). Some work as cleaners or gardeners and others are farmers. Most though have no jobs and survive by doing odd jobs or begging. Their English is very basic, but they study hard and will remember everything mentioned in the lessons. Their goal is to learn enough English to be employed by some of the expatriates as a driver or guard or by one of the English speaking companies. Learning English seems to be the key to accomplish something in life here in Tanzania.
Working at Saturday Club has been quite depressing at times. The children really don’t have anything and work so hard, yet life is everything but easy for them. Some of the kids live on the streets and can be seen begging around shops in the evening. They seem to have enough to eat, but very little else.
On the other hand Saturday Club is one of the best things here for me. I really enjoy most of it because the children are so appreciative and enjoy being at school so much. Swimming after the English lessons is really the highlight, as they all jump in (none of them can swim!) and have the time of their lives. If one of us goes in with them, usually about 30 kids will pile on top of you or try to hold your hand, all the while screaming ‘teacher, teacher!’ It really is so much fun and I hope that it will help these children accomplish what they are aiming for.
Another project I am involved in, and which seems to take up most evenings and the rest of the weekend, is volunteering at Starehe Orphanage. It is a local orphanage run by a Canadian couple that provides a home for about 85 children.
The orphanage is split into two houses, one for the older children (six years and up) and one for the babies and toddlers. There is one adult that lives with the older children, yet the children are entirely self-sufficient. They cook their own food, wash their own clothes and clean their own living space. The older ones are very protective of the younger ones and there seems to be a very family-like relationship among them. They have rather nice buildings (sponsored by a Canadian church), yet again, little else. I think they may have one soccer ball, but that’s pretty much it. Most of the older children go to an English speaking school, but the fees are too high and thus some only go every other term. Not one of them goes to secondary school as those fees are even higher.
When I go to Starehe I spend most of my time with the babies though. They seem to need it much more than the older ones, as they have largely become used to the fact that they don’t have their own families and thus rely on each other for support. The atmosphere in the baby section is very different. Many of the children have only recently lost their mothers and thus miss the affection and attention that she may have provided. They can be seen babbling ‘mama, mama, mama’ and are on the constant lookout for her.
Many of them are also still suffering the affects of having lived in very poor and desperate conditions, so that they are still recovering from malnourishment and medical needs that they acquired through poor hygiene and diet. Some of the babies are very sick. There was one little boy called Kevin who had sickle cell anemia. Diseases like that aren’t treated in Africa, especially not in children that are suspected to have AIDS, and most children die very young. He passed away just days before his first birthday and still weighed less than ten pounds. Seeing him die was among the hardest things I have ever had to endure.
Kevin’s twin sister on the other hand looks very healthy and is the sunshine among the babies. She cries very little and always smiles. Her babbling is unstoppable and I dare anyone not to fall in love with her.
There is another child, called Hamisa, who has cerebral palsy and again doesn’t receive the proper medical attention or physiotherapy. I didn’t realize that children who have this disease (to the degree to which she has it) are still so responsive. It was difficult to tell at first, but now I find it very easy to detect her moods. She has also perfected the use of her left leg, as a means to make herself clearly understood…if she doesn’t like something or someone, she has an evil kick that will usually take care of things. She also uses it to gain attention and I often have a little left foot poking my side if I have neglected to play and joke with her first. She has come a long way since I first started going to Starehe. She tries very hard and spends long hours trying to grasp a single thing. She tries relentlessly and if she does manage to maneuver the desired item she shrieks in excitement. Yesterday I watched her for two hours trying to pick up a sock. It was too large for her to grasp, but her hard work paid off and she eventually managed to move it ten centimeters to the left, which overjoyed her. Hamisa's determination is really admirable.
There are so many other stories - some sad, some happy. Some children obviously suffer more than others, and thus need more love and attention. The nurses who take care of them are very nice, but as they also come from pretty poor living conditions, they don’t really see that these children need even more than they are providing for them.
At the end of the day they have a roof over their heads, clean clothes, and food. With the money that our fundraising has generated we have been able to improve a lot of things. All the children now go to school. Previously funds had run out and so the children were taking turns. Additionally we have been able to persuade a kind Dutch doctor to come to Starehe and look at most of the children who had some sort of ailment. I have been able to buy medicines from the funds and all the children now get vitamins every day and fresh milk twice a week. It seems like very little but it is the little things that make the difference and help these children.
I love going to the orphanage. It is heart-wrenching sometimes, as I just want to take them all home with me, but I guess I put a smile on their faces every time I go and that has to be enough for now.
So that’s what I do when I’m not dillydallying around the market, taking trips to Zanzibar, or teaching at school. The more time I spend in Tanzania, the more I see myself drawn to these projects. Teaching is wonderful but I have to admit that the highlight of my day comes when I get to Starehe and from every corner children start running towards me screaming my name and looking absolutely overjoyed. I love it there, and I wish you could all see the kids. They truly melt hearts with their big brown eyes and warm smiles.
I knew that coming to Africa would have a big impact. I never expected it to be as it is. Most days I love it, but when my children get ill, or I have malaria, or the power and water gets cut for a week I find staying positive very difficult. Despite everything I feel very fortunate to have experienced this. I will remember these children for the rest of my life and hope that I have made a positive impact on their little lives. They certainly have on mine.
If you or someone you know would like to learn more about my fundraising you could contact me at tinibennett@yahoo.com . I have also set up an account in the US for Starehe Children’s Home and checks can be sent to Tini Bennett, 31 Winghaven Lane, Fort Pierce Florida, 34949 (made payable to Starehe Children’s Home). Pictures of Starehe can be found at Http://www.ambeny.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk
Wednesday, Aug 31
It is a continuation of yesterday. A few students coming in, by ones and twos. Those who have come back have nothing to do. I joined a small group of students sitting under a tree to talk about what is going on. They are very discouraged. These are the students who DID come back, and who want to study and to prepare for the National Examination, and now they cannot even do that.
I’d thought that by today there would at least be a big staff meeting to collectively wring our hands or something, but there doesn’t seem to be any sign of even anything like that. A few teachers continue to sit with their files waiting, forlorn, for students to appear.
The count at the end of Day 3: A total of 44 students have registered by now, out of a student body of a little over 600. Most of the registrees are day students who do not have to pay the damage assessment or identify the “leaders.”
Meanwhile, back at the ranch... Yesterday I returned to Starehe Children’s Home, the orphanage near here that my family visited during their visit to Mwanza, and talked with Loudell. Loudell Posein is the wife and co-founder with the Pentacostal minister who took over support of the Home some years ago. She is an older woman (Did I really say that? Me, with my bald head and white beard?) with a very friendly demeanor, who seems to be constantly distracted by the list of things she wants to do in too little time. I found her bustling a pile of clean clothes from the storage room, but she took time to talk with me for awhile. We talked about the problems and rewards of running an institution that depends on donations for its existence – how the direction of projects often is determined, and changes, in response to the source and reliability of donations.
She was flabbergasted when I gave her the $200 Diane asked me to give Starehe, on behalf of Katherine Boucher’s largess. It will be spent for shoes for the children. She says that just the cost of shoes is one of their major expenses. I also picked up a number of brochures to send to my family, along with the photos from the Safari that I’ve burned onto CDs.
I’m also juggling the planning on how to end the business course. The timing of the graduation for the entrepreneurial program is becoming something of a nightmare. Originally scheduled for October 29, that date became untenable when we realized that the presidential election will be on the 30th. So I’ve been canvassing our guest speakers to see if their schedules would allow rescheduling for a week later, November 5. I’m still in the middle of that, but it has been pointed out now that November 3 or 4, depending on which night the Imam sees the moon, will be the Islam celebration of Idd-El-Fitr which is a national holiday. That will put the 5th in the middle of a long weekend holiday – hence another untenable date.
It is a continuation of yesterday. A few students coming in, by ones and twos. Those who have come back have nothing to do. I joined a small group of students sitting under a tree to talk about what is going on. They are very discouraged. These are the students who DID come back, and who want to study and to prepare for the National Examination, and now they cannot even do that.
I’d thought that by today there would at least be a big staff meeting to collectively wring our hands or something, but there doesn’t seem to be any sign of even anything like that. A few teachers continue to sit with their files waiting, forlorn, for students to appear.
The count at the end of Day 3: A total of 44 students have registered by now, out of a student body of a little over 600. Most of the registrees are day students who do not have to pay the damage assessment or identify the “leaders.”
Meanwhile, back at the ranch... Yesterday I returned to Starehe Children’s Home, the orphanage near here that my family visited during their visit to Mwanza, and talked with Loudell. Loudell Posein is the wife and co-founder with the Pentacostal minister who took over support of the Home some years ago. She is an older woman (Did I really say that? Me, with my bald head and white beard?) with a very friendly demeanor, who seems to be constantly distracted by the list of things she wants to do in too little time. I found her bustling a pile of clean clothes from the storage room, but she took time to talk with me for awhile. We talked about the problems and rewards of running an institution that depends on donations for its existence – how the direction of projects often is determined, and changes, in response to the source and reliability of donations.
She was flabbergasted when I gave her the $200 Diane asked me to give Starehe, on behalf of Katherine Boucher’s largess. It will be spent for shoes for the children. She says that just the cost of shoes is one of their major expenses. I also picked up a number of brochures to send to my family, along with the photos from the Safari that I’ve burned onto CDs.
I’m also juggling the planning on how to end the business course. The timing of the graduation for the entrepreneurial program is becoming something of a nightmare. Originally scheduled for October 29, that date became untenable when we realized that the presidential election will be on the 30th. So I’ve been canvassing our guest speakers to see if their schedules would allow rescheduling for a week later, November 5. I’m still in the middle of that, but it has been pointed out now that November 3 or 4, depending on which night the Imam sees the moon, will be the Islam celebration of Idd-El-Fitr which is a national holiday. That will put the 5th in the middle of a long weekend holiday – hence another untenable date.
