Saturday, October 29, 2005
Sometimes it just feels good, all the way down.
Yesterday as planned, I met Jonathan, the boy/man who sells handmade cards on the street, and went with him to his house to see where he lives and does his artwork. He lives near the top of a steep hill that can only be reached by climbing up a rock path, in two rooms clinging to the side of the hill in a squallid area. He patched the holes in the floor to make it liveable. He has a bed in one room, and a table with a chair and a small painter's easel in the other room. That's it.
He barely supports himself, there aren't many tourists in Mwanza. He says he usually sells one or two cards a day, and maybe one large $5 painting a weekHis immediate worry is that the rent is due soon. And he has been invited by an NGO working with the World Bank to come to Germany for an invitation-only show of art work by worldwide street artists. His way would be paid, but he must scrape up the money for the passport.
There is a charity ball coming up next month, a feel-good annual affair put on by the expat community here. A bunch of us went last year, and it was fun. But I suggested that maybe I could introduce him to Maria to see if she would be interested in auctioning some of his paintings at the ball, giving him a percentage of the take. Don't know, but it is worth a try.
But, now for the warm fuzzy part. Yesterday I gave him all my art supplies - I haven't used them hardly at all, and he works with such poor tools. That included some top-grade paper, pens and points, some bottles of ink as well as some good watercolors. He was completely surprised and pleased. So today I met him, and he showed me the new style he is using with the pen and ink work. He is good! He applies the ink heavily with a brush like woodcuts, but then he uses a pen to add fine detail. He was delighted to say that he sold two of these cards already today.
His grin was wall to wall. Mine too.
Yesterday as planned, I met Jonathan, the boy/man who sells handmade cards on the street, and went with him to his house to see where he lives and does his artwork. He lives near the top of a steep hill that can only be reached by climbing up a rock path, in two rooms clinging to the side of the hill in a squallid area. He patched the holes in the floor to make it liveable. He has a bed in one room, and a table with a chair and a small painter's easel in the other room. That's it.
He barely supports himself, there aren't many tourists in Mwanza. He says he usually sells one or two cards a day, and maybe one large $5 painting a weekHis immediate worry is that the rent is due soon. And he has been invited by an NGO working with the World Bank to come to Germany for an invitation-only show of art work by worldwide street artists. His way would be paid, but he must scrape up the money for the passport.
There is a charity ball coming up next month, a feel-good annual affair put on by the expat community here. A bunch of us went last year, and it was fun. But I suggested that maybe I could introduce him to Maria to see if she would be interested in auctioning some of his paintings at the ball, giving him a percentage of the take. Don't know, but it is worth a try.
But, now for the warm fuzzy part. Yesterday I gave him all my art supplies - I haven't used them hardly at all, and he works with such poor tools. That included some top-grade paper, pens and points, some bottles of ink as well as some good watercolors. He was completely surprised and pleased. So today I met him, and he showed me the new style he is using with the pen and ink work. He is good! He applies the ink heavily with a brush like woodcuts, but then he uses a pen to add fine detail. He was delighted to say that he sold two of these cards already today.
His grin was wall to wall. Mine too.
Monday, October 24, 2005
So I wrote about the mundane problems and details of my trip to Dar. But I did go there for a reason, and it turned out to be an extremely successful and rewarding trip. Successful because I found where my passport is, and my India visa request should now proceed normally. Rewarding because of my meeting with Atiba at the TechnoServe office.
Atiba had invited me to come in to talk about the future plans for the entrepreneurship (Economic Empowerment) project. I’d been thinking that the teachers here would be pretty much on their own next year, with little hope of further assistance from the Peace Corps, so wanted to talk about the small steps the group could take based only on their current expertise and local resources. That would consist of increasing the number of classes, but otherwise a repeat of this year.
Atiba, however, was thinking in larger terms. Yes, increase the number of classes for seniors. But also, how about giving 4 or 5 of their Bizcamps – crash programs where the whole course is given in the space of a week – aimed at school leavers, dropouts and pushouts, during the breaks in the school year. To accomplish this, TechnoServe might provide a staff person to reside in Mwanza for the year to assist the base program and train the instructors to lead the Bizcamps. This would also provide the further training that the instructors themselves have been asking for. In addition, this person could also be a consultant to the new business that the teachers are establishing, and establish relationships within the community with the goal of developing local financial support for the future.
Wow. This project is taking off like a brush fire, based on the enthusiasm of the instructors and students and solid TechnoServe support. I’ve used the analogy that it has been an explosion, for which I have been lucky enough to be the person who held the match.
For the graduation ceremony, two people each are coming from TechnoServe, the USAID office from the embassy, and Peace Corps HQ. The school Headmasters have been invited, the bankers who have judged the Plans, and the Rotary Club. Now we need to be sure we have press coverage.
** *** **
There was also a going-away party for five teachers on Saturday evening, despite the lack of electricity all day and night. It was a pleasant affair with beer, snacks, music from a battery-powered CD player and light from a Coleman gas-powered lamp that appeared from somewhere. Speeches by everybody. Kind words and gifts for the departing. I received two African hand-carved wooden statues, a stone bowl, printed cloth, and a peasant’s hat. Quite a haul!
Atiba had invited me to come in to talk about the future plans for the entrepreneurship (Economic Empowerment) project. I’d been thinking that the teachers here would be pretty much on their own next year, with little hope of further assistance from the Peace Corps, so wanted to talk about the small steps the group could take based only on their current expertise and local resources. That would consist of increasing the number of classes, but otherwise a repeat of this year.
Atiba, however, was thinking in larger terms. Yes, increase the number of classes for seniors. But also, how about giving 4 or 5 of their Bizcamps – crash programs where the whole course is given in the space of a week – aimed at school leavers, dropouts and pushouts, during the breaks in the school year. To accomplish this, TechnoServe might provide a staff person to reside in Mwanza for the year to assist the base program and train the instructors to lead the Bizcamps. This would also provide the further training that the instructors themselves have been asking for. In addition, this person could also be a consultant to the new business that the teachers are establishing, and establish relationships within the community with the goal of developing local financial support for the future.
Wow. This project is taking off like a brush fire, based on the enthusiasm of the instructors and students and solid TechnoServe support. I’ve used the analogy that it has been an explosion, for which I have been lucky enough to be the person who held the match.
For the graduation ceremony, two people each are coming from TechnoServe, the USAID office from the embassy, and Peace Corps HQ. The school Headmasters have been invited, the bankers who have judged the Plans, and the Rotary Club. Now we need to be sure we have press coverage.
** *** **
There was also a going-away party for five teachers on Saturday evening, despite the lack of electricity all day and night. It was a pleasant affair with beer, snacks, music from a battery-powered CD player and light from a Coleman gas-powered lamp that appeared from somewhere. Speeches by everybody. Kind words and gifts for the departing. I received two African hand-carved wooden statues, a stone bowl, printed cloth, and a peasant’s hat. Quite a haul!
So I wrote about the mundane problems and details of my trip to Dar. But I did go there for a reason, and it turned out to be an extremely successful and rewarding trip. Successful because I found where my passport is, and my India visa request should now proceed normally. Rewarding because of my meeting with Atiba at the TechnoServe office.
Atiba had invited me to come in to talk about the future plans for the entrepreneurship (Economic Empowerment) project. I’d been thinking that the teachers here would be pretty much on their own next year, with little hope of further assistance from the Peace Corps, so wanted to talk about the small steps the group could take based only on their current expertise and local resources. That would consist of increasing the number of classes, but otherwise a repeat of this year.
Atiba, however, was thinking in larger terms. Yes, increase the number of classes for seniors. But also, how about giving 4 or 5 of their Bizcamps – crash programs where the whole course is given in the space of a week – aimed at school leavers, dropouts and pushouts, during the breaks in the school year. To accomplish this, TechnoServe might provide a staff person to reside in Mwanza for the year to assist the base program and train the instructors to lead the Bizcamps. This would also provide the further training that the instructors themselves have been asking for. In addition, this person could also be a consultant to the new business that the teachers are establishing, and establish relationships within the community with the goal of developing local financial support for the future.
Wow. This project is taking off like a brush fire, based on the enthusiasm of the instructors and students and solid TechnoServe support. I’ve used the analogy that it has been an explosion, for which I have been lucky enough to be the person who held the match.
For the graduation ceremony, two people each are coming from TechnoServe, the USAID office from the embassy, and Peace Corps HQ. The school Headmasters have been invited, the bankers who have judged the Plans, and the Rotary Club. Now we need to be sure we have press coverage.
** *** **
There was also a going-away party for five teachers on Saturday evening, despite the lack of electricity all day and night. It was a pleasant affair with beer, snacks, music from a battery-powered CD player and light from a Coleman gas-powered lamp that appeared from somewhere. Speeches by everybody. Kind words and gifts for the departing. I received two African hand-carved wooden statues, a stone bowl, printed cloth, and a peasant’s hat. Quite a haul!
Atiba had invited me to come in to talk about the future plans for the entrepreneurship (Economic Empowerment) project. I’d been thinking that the teachers here would be pretty much on their own next year, with little hope of further assistance from the Peace Corps, so wanted to talk about the small steps the group could take based only on their current expertise and local resources. That would consist of increasing the number of classes, but otherwise a repeat of this year.
Atiba, however, was thinking in larger terms. Yes, increase the number of classes for seniors. But also, how about giving 4 or 5 of their Bizcamps – crash programs where the whole course is given in the space of a week – aimed at school leavers, dropouts and pushouts, during the breaks in the school year. To accomplish this, TechnoServe might provide a staff person to reside in Mwanza for the year to assist the base program and train the instructors to lead the Bizcamps. This would also provide the further training that the instructors themselves have been asking for. In addition, this person could also be a consultant to the new business that the teachers are establishing, and establish relationships within the community with the goal of developing local financial support for the future.
Wow. This project is taking off like a brush fire, based on the enthusiasm of the instructors and students and solid TechnoServe support. I’ve used the analogy that it has been an explosion, for which I have been lucky enough to be the person who held the match.
For the graduation ceremony, two people each are coming from TechnoServe, the USAID office from the embassy, and Peace Corps HQ. The school Headmasters have been invited, the bankers who have judged the Plans, and the Rotary Club. Now we need to be sure we have press coverage.
** *** **
There was also a going-away party for five teachers on Saturday evening, despite the lack of electricity all day and night. It was a pleasant affair with beer, snacks, music from a battery-powered CD player and light from a Coleman gas-powered lamp that appeared from somewhere. Speeches by everybody. Kind words and gifts for the departing. I received two African hand-carved wooden statues, a stone bowl, printed cloth, and a peasant’s hat. Quite a haul!
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Dar es Salaam, October 14
I arrived by air, at the invitation of TechnoServe to talk with them about what should/might happen regarding the economic empowerment project next year. I’d heard that the Sikh Gurdwara in Dar is quite large, and that they run a very nice and inexpensive hostel. So I thought I would look it up. Took a taxi from the airport, first checking with the driver, Did he KNOW where the Sikh Gurdwara is? Yes. Really? Yes. Sure? Yes. Of course he did NOT know, but I was not pushed for time and we had agreed on the price so now it was HIS problem. The 2nd Indian-looking pedestrian we asked gave us good directions. But there was no room for me at Singa-Singa (Kiswahili for Skih).
From there I took a daladala to the Posta to find my registered letter with my passport and visa application. Had to argue strongly, but after they spent 2 hours searching, they said it had been picked up yesterday (it had been mailed from Mwanza on August 29th). I called the Indian Embassy, who confirmed the story. The Posta blames the Embassy, the Embassy blames the Posta. Naturally. But at least it is found, with its enclosed $81 fee.
Went to the Peace Corps HQ to confirm departure plans and greet people and get help making reservations for the night, since the Sikhs had let me down.
Then dinner. Options: Street chicken – good but more ethnic than I wanted since I have LEAVING on my mind. Indian vegetarian – same sentiments. American Club – too clubby and the new mgt. Is trying to go upscale so it has lost it funkiness. Decided on Cliffside.
Cliffside. Wealthy ex-pat area, real estate boom area of what can only be luxury condos crowding the old walled estates. Fancy hotel. Fancy botique mall with lots of chi-chi restaurants and cafes. Mostly white skin, European fashinons, T-shirts (“Tallahassee”) that actually reflect where they were purchased, small girls in cute outfits, blonds. “Spurs” featured a quarter chicken plus ribs special with a baked potato, fried onions, some green salad. Cute African waitresses in sharp outfits topped with matching baseball caps, western decor. Definitely un-African. I couldn[t resist also getting the nachos. Not quite authentic with its heavy chili powder, but pretty good anyway. Afterwards I went to a coffee shop for a double expresso that gave me a jolt that I am still enjoying. It all fed my desire to now GET OUT OF AFRICA!! I leave my site on Nov 6, and leave Africa on Nov 16.
Then took another daladala downtown, to find the city still without power – dark. I managed to find myhotel through the dark streets, to discover that it does not have a generator. No lights. At $10 a night I guess I can’t complain. But I had to go to a nearby restaurant and buy a big bottle of water to sit and write this summary and finish the novel I’be been reading for the past week or so (Midnight’s Children by Salmon Rushdie). It is a freaky story about India, to get me ready for Delhi, Agra, Jaipur and Amritsar next month. They said the power would come back at 10:00pm but…
9:00. An hour to go until the promise of recovered electricity. But then quietness decended – the generator was stilled having consumed the last of its petrol. There was then only a candle flickering in the outdoor night breeze. Enough for writing this blog, but not nearly enough for reading.
Went back to my hotel and took a candle to my fifth floor room. My hotel may not have a generator, but the building next door certainly did. Right outside me room. I did get to sleep through the din, but woke up at 1:00 with a splitting headache. The generator was turned off at 3:00.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Jonathan’s Autobiography: Born June 16, 1978
My name is Jonathan Rwelengera Nathanael. I was born in 10th June 1978 in Kikomero village, Bukoba, Tanzania. My tribe is Haya and I had two parents both but in 1982 my father expelled my mother and he found another woman as my step mother. My mother runned away from home because my father treated badly (troubled) my mother and he chased my mother; so we were living ourselves just me and my three brothers and sisters.
My father was a house’s constructer he was so getting the money to buy beers because he was a drunker man. In 1984 the whole of our district had the lack of food. My father and my brothers used to go to find jobs very far from home. My self I was young therefore I didn’t go any where but home. During 1987 the circumstance was good. We picked enough crops from our farm, even our neighbours they got enough food, the whole village was glad to get the lovely harvest and the hanger was finished. My mother came back home because my father sent to her the letter to ask her to come home from Dar es Salaam where she was living from the day she chased from home. But saddenly she got the stronger fever, about one week then she died. Truly I was very sad and I cried a lot for my mother. In 1988 my father sent me to school to start on standard 1 of the primary school in Kikomelo village.
But my father found another woman as my step mother and she was very angry with me all the time I think she didn’t like me because she was beating me and sometimes she lied unto my father that I stole food from the pot but my father didn’t trust all words she said unto him. That woman got some problems with my father and my father expelled her away. father found another woman the third one and after three months he chased her. Then my father became sick because he used to be with different womans and I think he was already contaminated by the womans he married. Then in 1992 he died. Three sisters of mine was married so far from home but they passed away in the places where they were married and I didn’t be able to know much about them but they remarried their children into their husbands. My brothers were two in Muleba town because they were working for their life. But my aunt came to help my father the day when he was sick, also some relatives came to take care till he passed away. Myself I went to live with my grandmother to pick coffe and to plant the cassava trees. from the money of coffe she paid the school fees for me but she didn’t buy clothes, really I was almost naked and dirty because I had no soap to wash my clothes. I had only school clothes and I used to wear them all the time from day and night because I had no other clothes to change. But there on my school there was not necessary to wear shoes because almost 95% of the schooler were coming to school without shoes everyday.
During examinations I was getting more that 55% though there were no enough teachers, and books also the school where I was studding there was no windows but it was open all the time because it was poor.
The teachers were beating me and other students at my school but very much not a little, even when I could ask to read some books from the office of teachers or if I had no the money to pay the annual school fees.
When I was in standard VII it was in 1994. I didn’t be able to stay in punishments from teachers. I decided to run away from school and I went to stay far from home where Iguru Ibi, beach with the fishermans and I was sorking to pull the net for the ake of getting some fishes to sell and buy food for myself. But I had nowhere to sleep but only in cold outside on the beach and there were a lot of mosquito then I was getting sick because of mosquito. One of my brother came to pick me from there to back home to continue with school again. At the end of 1994 we had the graduation celemony but myself I didn’t join because I had no money for the celemony contribution. I passed through the window in order to dance the music inside the school at the celemony during the night because there were many guards on the door and it wasn’t allowed to enter without to show the invitation coupon.
Then in 1995 at the beginning I was living still with my grandmother but I was thinking more about the future but I had no job and I was thinking about how I could be able to get the money for my necessary expenditure. But one day the neighbour boy was tryng to advise me to go to town because he knew more about town than me because he had many relatives in town. He told me there about getting jobs in town and I trusted what he told me. Then I went to ask my grandmother some money for fare from home to Mwanza town to find jobs. My grandmother agreed and she gave me some coffes to sell I sold coffe then I got 5000tsh. that was enough for my fare.
My Journey was nice from home village to Bukoba town, there I went to buy the ticket of the boat then I succeeded to get it and I intered the boat. The Journey was beautiful to me because it was my first time to go by boat. I was praying myself in to my heart to God. This happened in July 11th 1995. Also from village to Bukoba town there the car was full of passengers and burdens. We had all to stand on the burdens because there was no place to sit and the car was running faster.
But in the boat there I saw the big space and other people were sleeping but most of them were talking and telling stories. It was my first time and I was wonderling for everythings in the boat. The next day we arrived to Mwanza, the town with rocks. Many people in town and I saw thieves stealing some bags from the passengers, really it was my first time to arrive there in Mwanza. But I was thinking more about home and about my grandmother.
When I reachen in Mwanza town I had nowhere to go because I had nowhere to go. I saw the people and many cars and many roads then I didn’t know where I could go. I had two clothes in the plastic bag and I had 200 tsh. remain only in my pocket. I was hangry and didn’t know where I could buy the food. I bought an ice cream but it was cold in my mouth then I threw it away and I was not satiated. I went on te shaddow to rest but they chased me. I started to cry for myself and I was not able to go home. I desired to go back to my grandmother because the town was hardly life.
But leiter one man saw me and took me to his home and he asked me to take care his children but his wife was angry with me, she was beating me and she gave to me the bad food and the safe food was belong to her and the children. There I was sick because of the situation and eating the same food. Then I runned away because nobody had any idea to help me for my future even when I was sick they didn’t send me to the hospital. Then I went to ask for a job to the people and I started to work in the kiosk but wonderfully they also didn’t like to pay me therefore I left there and I runned away from there Kirumba str. to Mabatini str.
In Mabatini I was selling eggs and grandnuts but also they didn’t give me my wage and they chased me then I went to stay in the market bt it was dangerrous if the guards could see me there inside the market during the night.
But I was hiding myself inside the basket under the bussness table. The guard was trying to find me in order to kill me but he didn’t get me though he had the toch but he didn’t see me.
In the market I was hungry because I spent three days & ½ without been eaten. I tried to find some potatoes & tomatoes during the night to eat inside the market.
During that time my brother was trying to find me but he couldn’t get me easier. But then he left the piece of the letter to some people that was for me to ask me to go to stay with him. When I got that letter askeng me to go to stay with my brother, I went to find out how to get the real place where my brother was living. But it was also difficult to get there. I slept outside in darkness in some days. But after three days I got him and he showed me his place because he was living with his wife. but his wife was angry with me because she didn’t like me to stay there. The life was too hard and I expected to run away back in the street because I had nowhere to go.
Then some people were interested with some of the painting from me and they asked me to go to Kuleana Street Children Centre. I went there and I went there at Kuleana in 1997 there were some european and they were interested with my picutres, they decided that I continue to be with them and they gave me some works to paint from them. From the paiment of drawings I rented my cheeper room in 1998 from that time I came out from the streets. The same year 10th of June it was the Africa child day. Kuleana and Plan International they asked for fifty children to go to Dodoma. In those fifty I was one of them who was choosed to represent street children. It was nice journey and it was my first time to travel with a train. The journey was so nice to me and there we met other children and students from different places of Tanzania.
In Dodoma we had many competitions, some on singing, other on dansing, some on playing games and drawings. But wonderful I became a winner I took the first number on drawing and I got the first prize. And the fine art was the first winner from other games all. All children from Mwanza were glad to get their victory.
Then in Mwanza I continued to make some cards for sell and I got money for food and accomodation. Sometimes I went to visit my friends on the street and I was explaining to them about how to work and find life. And I aasked them to learn from me.
Street children were fighting and I was trying to placate them. But it was very difficult to stop them. But they often fought each other because of money. Myself I was selling pictures in the street and the money I used to buy clothes and other expenditures necessary to me, I didn’t drink but when I was living in the street I used to smake marihuana and sometimes cigarrates.
Here I went to Morogoro to represent the street children of Mwanza 2002 March. We spent almost one week the unicef invited many youth to represent others at the National Life Skills facilitators. The people were glad with the pictures I drew as an example of life of the children in the street.
In Mwanza at the Catholic Arch Diocese of Mwanza Street Children project I was dancing with the cultural drums with other street children. But it didn’t continue because no supporter. Many people liked it because they were very interested.
In December 2003 the policemans catched me with other boys in the street during night when I went to visit them and they called all of us as thieves then they sent us to the central Police station, we spend there three days and then they sent us to the court they lied with unture report that we stole the mobile phone. Then they sent us to Butimba prison, there is very difficult life to me because we were eating oce per day and forced to sleep during evening at 4:00pm.
Now I am living as the small artist in Mwanza. But problem is that I have no capital to elevate my work and I have no enough support on it.
I am living myself in my rented room as a small artist.
My name is Jonathan Rwelengera Nathanael. I was born in 10th June 1978 in Kikomero village, Bukoba, Tanzania. My tribe is Haya and I had two parents both but in 1982 my father expelled my mother and he found another woman as my step mother. My mother runned away from home because my father treated badly (troubled) my mother and he chased my mother; so we were living ourselves just me and my three brothers and sisters.
My father was a house’s constructer he was so getting the money to buy beers because he was a drunker man. In 1984 the whole of our district had the lack of food. My father and my brothers used to go to find jobs very far from home. My self I was young therefore I didn’t go any where but home. During 1987 the circumstance was good. We picked enough crops from our farm, even our neighbours they got enough food, the whole village was glad to get the lovely harvest and the hanger was finished. My mother came back home because my father sent to her the letter to ask her to come home from Dar es Salaam where she was living from the day she chased from home. But saddenly she got the stronger fever, about one week then she died. Truly I was very sad and I cried a lot for my mother. In 1988 my father sent me to school to start on standard 1 of the primary school in Kikomelo village.
But my father found another woman as my step mother and she was very angry with me all the time I think she didn’t like me because she was beating me and sometimes she lied unto my father that I stole food from the pot but my father didn’t trust all words she said unto him. That woman got some problems with my father and my father expelled her away. father found another woman the third one and after three months he chased her. Then my father became sick because he used to be with different womans and I think he was already contaminated by the womans he married. Then in 1992 he died. Three sisters of mine was married so far from home but they passed away in the places where they were married and I didn’t be able to know much about them but they remarried their children into their husbands. My brothers were two in Muleba town because they were working for their life. But my aunt came to help my father the day when he was sick, also some relatives came to take care till he passed away. Myself I went to live with my grandmother to pick coffe and to plant the cassava trees. from the money of coffe she paid the school fees for me but she didn’t buy clothes, really I was almost naked and dirty because I had no soap to wash my clothes. I had only school clothes and I used to wear them all the time from day and night because I had no other clothes to change. But there on my school there was not necessary to wear shoes because almost 95% of the schooler were coming to school without shoes everyday.
During examinations I was getting more that 55% though there were no enough teachers, and books also the school where I was studding there was no windows but it was open all the time because it was poor.
The teachers were beating me and other students at my school but very much not a little, even when I could ask to read some books from the office of teachers or if I had no the money to pay the annual school fees.
When I was in standard VII it was in 1994. I didn’t be able to stay in punishments from teachers. I decided to run away from school and I went to stay far from home where Iguru Ibi, beach with the fishermans and I was sorking to pull the net for the ake of getting some fishes to sell and buy food for myself. But I had nowhere to sleep but only in cold outside on the beach and there were a lot of mosquito then I was getting sick because of mosquito. One of my brother came to pick me from there to back home to continue with school again. At the end of 1994 we had the graduation celemony but myself I didn’t join because I had no money for the celemony contribution. I passed through the window in order to dance the music inside the school at the celemony during the night because there were many guards on the door and it wasn’t allowed to enter without to show the invitation coupon.
Then in 1995 at the beginning I was living still with my grandmother but I was thinking more about the future but I had no job and I was thinking about how I could be able to get the money for my necessary expenditure. But one day the neighbour boy was tryng to advise me to go to town because he knew more about town than me because he had many relatives in town. He told me there about getting jobs in town and I trusted what he told me. Then I went to ask my grandmother some money for fare from home to Mwanza town to find jobs. My grandmother agreed and she gave me some coffes to sell I sold coffe then I got 5000tsh. that was enough for my fare.
My Journey was nice from home village to Bukoba town, there I went to buy the ticket of the boat then I succeeded to get it and I intered the boat. The Journey was beautiful to me because it was my first time to go by boat. I was praying myself in to my heart to God. This happened in July 11th 1995. Also from village to Bukoba town there the car was full of passengers and burdens. We had all to stand on the burdens because there was no place to sit and the car was running faster.
But in the boat there I saw the big space and other people were sleeping but most of them were talking and telling stories. It was my first time and I was wonderling for everythings in the boat. The next day we arrived to Mwanza, the town with rocks. Many people in town and I saw thieves stealing some bags from the passengers, really it was my first time to arrive there in Mwanza. But I was thinking more about home and about my grandmother.
When I reachen in Mwanza town I had nowhere to go because I had nowhere to go. I saw the people and many cars and many roads then I didn’t know where I could go. I had two clothes in the plastic bag and I had 200 tsh. remain only in my pocket. I was hangry and didn’t know where I could buy the food. I bought an ice cream but it was cold in my mouth then I threw it away and I was not satiated. I went on te shaddow to rest but they chased me. I started to cry for myself and I was not able to go home. I desired to go back to my grandmother because the town was hardly life.
But leiter one man saw me and took me to his home and he asked me to take care his children but his wife was angry with me, she was beating me and she gave to me the bad food and the safe food was belong to her and the children. There I was sick because of the situation and eating the same food. Then I runned away because nobody had any idea to help me for my future even when I was sick they didn’t send me to the hospital. Then I went to ask for a job to the people and I started to work in the kiosk but wonderfully they also didn’t like to pay me therefore I left there and I runned away from there Kirumba str. to Mabatini str.
In Mabatini I was selling eggs and grandnuts but also they didn’t give me my wage and they chased me then I went to stay in the market bt it was dangerrous if the guards could see me there inside the market during the night.
But I was hiding myself inside the basket under the bussness table. The guard was trying to find me in order to kill me but he didn’t get me though he had the toch but he didn’t see me.
In the market I was hungry because I spent three days & ½ without been eaten. I tried to find some potatoes & tomatoes during the night to eat inside the market.
During that time my brother was trying to find me but he couldn’t get me easier. But then he left the piece of the letter to some people that was for me to ask me to go to stay with him. When I got that letter askeng me to go to stay with my brother, I went to find out how to get the real place where my brother was living. But it was also difficult to get there. I slept outside in darkness in some days. But after three days I got him and he showed me his place because he was living with his wife. but his wife was angry with me because she didn’t like me to stay there. The life was too hard and I expected to run away back in the street because I had nowhere to go.
Then some people were interested with some of the painting from me and they asked me to go to Kuleana Street Children Centre. I went there and I went there at Kuleana in 1997 there were some european and they were interested with my picutres, they decided that I continue to be with them and they gave me some works to paint from them. From the paiment of drawings I rented my cheeper room in 1998 from that time I came out from the streets. The same year 10th of June it was the Africa child day. Kuleana and Plan International they asked for fifty children to go to Dodoma. In those fifty I was one of them who was choosed to represent street children. It was nice journey and it was my first time to travel with a train. The journey was so nice to me and there we met other children and students from different places of Tanzania.
In Dodoma we had many competitions, some on singing, other on dansing, some on playing games and drawings. But wonderful I became a winner I took the first number on drawing and I got the first prize. And the fine art was the first winner from other games all. All children from Mwanza were glad to get their victory.
Then in Mwanza I continued to make some cards for sell and I got money for food and accomodation. Sometimes I went to visit my friends on the street and I was explaining to them about how to work and find life. And I aasked them to learn from me.
Street children were fighting and I was trying to placate them. But it was very difficult to stop them. But they often fought each other because of money. Myself I was selling pictures in the street and the money I used to buy clothes and other expenditures necessary to me, I didn’t drink but when I was living in the street I used to smake marihuana and sometimes cigarrates.
Here I went to Morogoro to represent the street children of Mwanza 2002 March. We spent almost one week the unicef invited many youth to represent others at the National Life Skills facilitators. The people were glad with the pictures I drew as an example of life of the children in the street.
In Mwanza at the Catholic Arch Diocese of Mwanza Street Children project I was dancing with the cultural drums with other street children. But it didn’t continue because no supporter. Many people liked it because they were very interested.
In December 2003 the policemans catched me with other boys in the street during night when I went to visit them and they called all of us as thieves then they sent us to the central Police station, we spend there three days and then they sent us to the court they lied with unture report that we stole the mobile phone. Then they sent us to Butimba prison, there is very difficult life to me because we were eating oce per day and forced to sleep during evening at 4:00pm.
Now I am living as the small artist in Mwanza. But problem is that I have no capital to elevate my work and I have no enough support on it.
I am living myself in my rented room as a small artist.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Closure. It is one of the things that we are supposed to accomplish as we prepare to leave our two year African experience. Kind of hard to get my hands around what that is supposed to mean. But I guess it is the kind of thing that seems to be happening lately:
Kathleen has been visiting this weekend, from Bunda. We were walking to the duka across the football pitch to buy a couple of beers, and on the way, met Severa. Severa is the polio-crippled one-eyed woman I helped to get a hand-powered tricycle, through the Rotary Club. She was pulling herself along the ground, flip flops on her hands – this is about a mile from her home. She was just so happy to see me, jumping up and down if that would have been possible for her. We shook hands, she was talking a mile a minute – I had to ask a passer-by to translate. She was just being friendly and saying thank you, yet again. And asking for a plastic cover for the tricycle if I had one to give her. The rainy season is coming soon. She keeps the tricycle in her house, but in the half of the house that does not have a roof.
Again, downtown yesterday, I met Johnathan on the street again. He always has a big smile for me. He is a thin kid, looks like maybe 18 hard years, but is 27. He has some scars, mouth twists a little, only one eye. He was a street kid, an orphan, and had some help along the line to develop his artistic ability, so now lives in a room that he rents through the hand-crafted cards he sells to tourists on the street. There aren’t many tourists in Mwanza. A month or so ago I suggested to him that he ought to leave some cards in the Mwanza Hotel Gift Shop to sell for him. He said that the shop owner wouldn’t talk to him. So I went in with him, and we had no trouble arranging it – it is the power of white skin here in Tanzania. Now every time I see him he greets me and wants me to come to his room to see the paintings he is doing. I want to do that, and I will leave him my art supplies. They aren’t much, but I haven’t used them in a long time now and can so easily replace them back in the States. He’s written an illustrated biography that is really strong, and has been published by a Canadian NGO. I may copy it into my diary, along the line.
And other stuff. The entrepreneurship group had another planning meeting for the graduation on Nov 5, and as part of it, they want to have a going away party for me next Saturday. I think the group is now self-sufficient, but they are quite concerned about how they will continue without my assistance. I feel as though I do so little, they have really taken over the project so very well. One of my fellow teachers wants so much to have me visit his family on Ukerewe Island. We have been trying to plan time for it, but my schedule is tight and keeps changing. My students, who have left me feeling so unappreciated so often, insist that we find time to take a group photo, and really seem to care about remembering me. The school is planning a party for the five teachers who are moving on after this year, I am one of them.
I guess this is what Closure looks like.
Kathleen has been visiting this weekend, from Bunda. We were walking to the duka across the football pitch to buy a couple of beers, and on the way, met Severa. Severa is the polio-crippled one-eyed woman I helped to get a hand-powered tricycle, through the Rotary Club. She was pulling herself along the ground, flip flops on her hands – this is about a mile from her home. She was just so happy to see me, jumping up and down if that would have been possible for her. We shook hands, she was talking a mile a minute – I had to ask a passer-by to translate. She was just being friendly and saying thank you, yet again. And asking for a plastic cover for the tricycle if I had one to give her. The rainy season is coming soon. She keeps the tricycle in her house, but in the half of the house that does not have a roof.
Again, downtown yesterday, I met Johnathan on the street again. He always has a big smile for me. He is a thin kid, looks like maybe 18 hard years, but is 27. He has some scars, mouth twists a little, only one eye. He was a street kid, an orphan, and had some help along the line to develop his artistic ability, so now lives in a room that he rents through the hand-crafted cards he sells to tourists on the street. There aren’t many tourists in Mwanza. A month or so ago I suggested to him that he ought to leave some cards in the Mwanza Hotel Gift Shop to sell for him. He said that the shop owner wouldn’t talk to him. So I went in with him, and we had no trouble arranging it – it is the power of white skin here in Tanzania. Now every time I see him he greets me and wants me to come to his room to see the paintings he is doing. I want to do that, and I will leave him my art supplies. They aren’t much, but I haven’t used them in a long time now and can so easily replace them back in the States. He’s written an illustrated biography that is really strong, and has been published by a Canadian NGO. I may copy it into my diary, along the line.
And other stuff. The entrepreneurship group had another planning meeting for the graduation on Nov 5, and as part of it, they want to have a going away party for me next Saturday. I think the group is now self-sufficient, but they are quite concerned about how they will continue without my assistance. I feel as though I do so little, they have really taken over the project so very well. One of my fellow teachers wants so much to have me visit his family on Ukerewe Island. We have been trying to plan time for it, but my schedule is tight and keeps changing. My students, who have left me feeling so unappreciated so often, insist that we find time to take a group photo, and really seem to care about remembering me. The school is planning a party for the five teachers who are moving on after this year, I am one of them.
I guess this is what Closure looks like.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Wednesday the 12th
I thought things were going to be winding down. I’m not teaching any more, and just have to shepard through the last arrangements before the Entrepreneurship graduation on Nov 5, and finish what I started on the eucalyptus oil project. Well...
At the Rotary Club meeting last night, they decided to make me the head of the Community Service Committee since I have gotten them so involved in the Entrepreneurship program. Even though I will be leaving Mwanza at the end of this month. So it doesn’t mean too much, except that it means attending a couple of Board Meetings starting tomorrow night. And it means that they will probably donate $220 to the Graduation Ceremony, which takes us out of the bind made when the expected contributions from the bankers did not materialize. Great news, but it does complicate my calendar a bit.
Gunje, my Headmaster friend from the Burundi border, said he would be in Mwanza over last weekend, and would bring samples of eucalyptus leaves to extract. I tried to contact him for confirmation without success. He appeared at my door this afternoon, and we had a long talk about our lives and about eucalyptus. His phone hadn’t been working. I tried to set us up to meet the lab people tomorrow but they are busy and Gunje has to catch the 5am bus back to the border on Friday. So I will take the samples to the lab and talk about the analyses without him on Friday. Setting up the equipment and running the oil extractions will be fun, but will be more time carved into my schedule. And no chem experiment ever goes right the first time.
We have a major meeting of the entrepreneurship instructors on Saturday to finalize our plans for the graduation. The Director of VETA has asked to sit in. And now Anna is coming from Dar es Salaam to represent TechnoServe also, with a separate agenda of finding out what is planned and what has been going on.
Next week I have to get copies of the best 12 business plans to the bankers for judging, and pick up their results later in the week.
That’s before the usual stuff of writing writing reports on my Peace Corps activities, project and grant summaries, collecting books and stuff that has to be returned to HQ, deciding how to unburden myself from all the stuff I don’t want to take back with me.
But all this stuff is my own doing and I actually feel pretty good about it all, so how can I complain?
I thought things were going to be winding down. I’m not teaching any more, and just have to shepard through the last arrangements before the Entrepreneurship graduation on Nov 5, and finish what I started on the eucalyptus oil project. Well...
At the Rotary Club meeting last night, they decided to make me the head of the Community Service Committee since I have gotten them so involved in the Entrepreneurship program. Even though I will be leaving Mwanza at the end of this month. So it doesn’t mean too much, except that it means attending a couple of Board Meetings starting tomorrow night. And it means that they will probably donate $220 to the Graduation Ceremony, which takes us out of the bind made when the expected contributions from the bankers did not materialize. Great news, but it does complicate my calendar a bit.
Gunje, my Headmaster friend from the Burundi border, said he would be in Mwanza over last weekend, and would bring samples of eucalyptus leaves to extract. I tried to contact him for confirmation without success. He appeared at my door this afternoon, and we had a long talk about our lives and about eucalyptus. His phone hadn’t been working. I tried to set us up to meet the lab people tomorrow but they are busy and Gunje has to catch the 5am bus back to the border on Friday. So I will take the samples to the lab and talk about the analyses without him on Friday. Setting up the equipment and running the oil extractions will be fun, but will be more time carved into my schedule. And no chem experiment ever goes right the first time.
We have a major meeting of the entrepreneurship instructors on Saturday to finalize our plans for the graduation. The Director of VETA has asked to sit in. And now Anna is coming from Dar es Salaam to represent TechnoServe also, with a separate agenda of finding out what is planned and what has been going on.
Next week I have to get copies of the best 12 business plans to the bankers for judging, and pick up their results later in the week.
That’s before the usual stuff of writing writing reports on my Peace Corps activities, project and grant summaries, collecting books and stuff that has to be returned to HQ, deciding how to unburden myself from all the stuff I don’t want to take back with me.
But all this stuff is my own doing and I actually feel pretty good about it all, so how can I complain?
Monday, October 10, 2005
What is going on here? First my own country gets chewed up thank you KatrinaRita. Now my travel destination next month experiences its worst earthquake devastation in over 100 years with casualties on the scale of the Christmas tsunami. And at the same time my destination after that, Guatemala, is clobbered by hurricane/tropical storm Stan with deaths at least in the hundreds and probably in the thousands. Beautiful Lake Atitlan where Myrna and I have wonderful memories and had planned to visit again was the center of massive mudslides. At least Tanzania seems to be spared such catastrophies except for periodic draughts. But HEY, this is ENOUGH now!
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Back home in Nsumba, after four days at the Momella Wildlife Lodge near Arusha for our Close of Service Conference. There were 58 of us, survivors from the group of 96 that began the Pre-Service Training in Arusha a little over two years ago. It feels like a long time since we were together, and it feels like just last week. We were so wet behind the ears then. It truly has been an incredible adventure to become familiar with this culture and these surroundings.
I was all prepared to be grumpy about the Wildlife Lodge. It was a 20hr bus ride to reach Arusha, and I wasn’t thrilled about getting on another bus right away for the ride to the Lodge. Then the hour and a half ride turned out to be three and a half hours, over a very poor dirt road. I was not a happy camper when we arrived. But the scenery, against the backdrop of Mt. Meru, was spectacular, there were giraffes nearby in the mornings, a pool where they claim a hippo makes his home only a ten minute walk away – although he apparently was a commuter, away during the day. . We also had bacon (!), and cold cereal with milk at the breakfast buffet, and good food throughout. We stayed in little white huts with conical thatched roofs that matched the volcanic cone of Mt. Meru. They had hot showers!
We wrote and shared little vignettes of our experiences, heard about post-Peace Corps medical insurance, job search strategies, possible post-graduate study, potential problems on re-integrating into our previous lives or some semblance of them. Shared addresses and plans. Recorded our departure dates and made appointments for medical exams, wrote out our Description of Service. Swam in the pool, played ping pong, lounged around...
Three of us are destined for Central or South America. Sue Bora, the only other over-60 volunteer since Bob Davis went home, has a house in Costa Rica. Carly will get married in June and join her husband in Quito, Equador. I, of course, am headed to Guatemala at least at first. Many have exciting travel plans. A group plans to work their way south to Johannesburg, then fly to India before going on to Burma and South Vietnam. Chang will go north to Ethiopia before heading to India, then go overland to China. Vicky will explore more of Africa, then go to spend a year with her Mother who returned to India after Vicky’s father died, to understand that culture and why her Mother is so happy to be back in India now. Many are going back for advanced degrees in the States, some want more time to think about it all before doing anything. Three have extended their service for another year.
Now it is time to begin thinking about leaving. What do I want to take with me? What can I send to Guatemala, and what should I send to Philadelphia? How light can I travel? Who can I give the stuff to that I will leave here? Dubai is supposed to be a great spot to buy electronics, so do I want to buy anything when I pass through there? And – what project reports and final statements must I write before I leave? Can I find a good home for Hodie after I leave?
I was all prepared to be grumpy about the Wildlife Lodge. It was a 20hr bus ride to reach Arusha, and I wasn’t thrilled about getting on another bus right away for the ride to the Lodge. Then the hour and a half ride turned out to be three and a half hours, over a very poor dirt road. I was not a happy camper when we arrived. But the scenery, against the backdrop of Mt. Meru, was spectacular, there were giraffes nearby in the mornings, a pool where they claim a hippo makes his home only a ten minute walk away – although he apparently was a commuter, away during the day. . We also had bacon (!), and cold cereal with milk at the breakfast buffet, and good food throughout. We stayed in little white huts with conical thatched roofs that matched the volcanic cone of Mt. Meru. They had hot showers!
We wrote and shared little vignettes of our experiences, heard about post-Peace Corps medical insurance, job search strategies, possible post-graduate study, potential problems on re-integrating into our previous lives or some semblance of them. Shared addresses and plans. Recorded our departure dates and made appointments for medical exams, wrote out our Description of Service. Swam in the pool, played ping pong, lounged around...
Three of us are destined for Central or South America. Sue Bora, the only other over-60 volunteer since Bob Davis went home, has a house in Costa Rica. Carly will get married in June and join her husband in Quito, Equador. I, of course, am headed to Guatemala at least at first. Many have exciting travel plans. A group plans to work their way south to Johannesburg, then fly to India before going on to Burma and South Vietnam. Chang will go north to Ethiopia before heading to India, then go overland to China. Vicky will explore more of Africa, then go to spend a year with her Mother who returned to India after Vicky’s father died, to understand that culture and why her Mother is so happy to be back in India now. Many are going back for advanced degrees in the States, some want more time to think about it all before doing anything. Three have extended their service for another year.
Now it is time to begin thinking about leaving. What do I want to take with me? What can I send to Guatemala, and what should I send to Philadelphia? How light can I travel? Who can I give the stuff to that I will leave here? Dubai is supposed to be a great spot to buy electronics, so do I want to buy anything when I pass through there? And – what project reports and final statements must I write before I leave? Can I find a good home for Hodie after I leave?
