Leroy's Art Blog

I am in McLeod Ganj, near Dharmsala. Just arrived about two hours ago, a little bedraggled and the worst for weat.

My guest house originally booked the bus trip to Dharmsala for me, but then said I will have to wait a day as the bus wasn't running yesterday. So I went to the State Bus Office, and easily booked a deluxe bus for myself right away. The guest house wasn't very be happy, losing a commission, but tough nuts for them.

But boy, was I wet behind the ears! Luxury bus? OK, so I took out a couple of books to read on the 12 hour overnight, to decide what to do and where to stay. And, I should have thought a bit when people said "Oh, Dharmsala? Cold up there."

The luxury bus had no reading lights. Worse, it had no heat. I was wearing a thin short-sleeved shirt and had along a light windbreaker. Didn't take long to add the windbreaker. Then added the trusty scarf on my head - the one I've been using in Africa to ward off the sun, happy thought. Then added the cape that stores in the collar of the windbreaker. Then pulled my arms out of the sleeves of the windbreaker - felt a little like wearing a straightjacket, but helped a bit.

The bus finally made a pit stop around 3am, and a couple of us bought tea masala there. That hot juice sure felt good. But then the bus began climbing, with lots of switchbacks and hairpin turns and it began to feel like a small boat in big swells. I don't know if it was that, or something in the tea (I suspect the latter), but I was not the first to open a window and wet the side of the bus. Felt better afterwards, though.

After an hour's layover in Dharamsala, a little gnome of a man pointed out the bus we needed to get the rest of the way to McLeod Ganj. MG is up, man, up. 45 minutes of steep switchbacks on a one-lane road with no guardrails. But it is a gem, a few narrow streets lined with shops and a major buddhist temple. Prayer wheels. Flags fluttering.

I thawed out a bit at a rooftop restaurant with sheer comfort food - a coffee, with banana-apple pancake with honey, jelly and butter. I feel much better now, thank you.

I arrived back in Delhi this morning, by overnight train. Apart from the very loud gang of guys who invaded the car about 1:00am, the ride was uneventful. You don't really sleep soundly, though. And - the train arrived at the Old Delhi station instead of the New Delhi station. So I had to figure that out, then take a bicycle rickshaw for half an hour or so to get to my hotel.

But it really felt like an effort today. The Nikon service center location for my broken camera was fairly convenient, but it wasn't open at 10:30 (although the sign on the door said it opens at 10:00). So I went to confirm and buy my flight tickets to Guatemala for December 12. The British Air office was really hard to find, and then there was a 40 minute wait to talk to anyone. But the ticketing was OK, even a little less than when I reserved it in Africa. But they wouldn't take my debit card, and I was depending on that. The only option was to use an ATM. No problem there, except that the daily limit is 12,000 rupees, and at that rate I would have to stay in Delhi for 4 days to accumulate enough money. But... I did have those Tanzanian shillings I didn't have time to exchange before I left Africa and couldn't exchange even in Dubai. But in a stroke of great luck, the Punjab National Bank will exchange them! And I have about $500 in US dollars. Putting it all together, I can pull it off tomorrow morning and still catch the afternoon bus to Dharmsala (another 12 hour ride). Except that the bus doesn't always run and I won't know for sure until tomorrow morning. If it doesn't run, I can take a train plus a 4 hour local bus after a 4 hour layover at the Dharmsala end, but that sounds like a horror.

Then back to the Nikon center. They were open, but he wanted two days and $100 to fix the camera. I talked for awhile, and he worked on it right away. Took about an hour and only $72, so that was a break. But the camera still didn't work. So he worked on it again and everything seemed OK. Until I tried to take a picture an hour later, and nothing would happen. Back to Nikon yet again. Now the switch is broken and it will take him until tomorrow to fix it.

So - Tomorrow I get up to hit the ATM, then go to Punjab National to exchange my various shillings and dollars, then take my pile of rupees to British Air, before going to Nikon again, and then checking back with the hotel to see if the bus is running.

This is a vacation?

Continuing. There was a glitch there - we were running on generator power, and the cafe manager said we had to log off because the power came back on and he had to switch us from the generator to city power.

So - talking with other travelers over food and drink at a guest house in the evening. Great was to meet interesting people, and pick up hints on what to do and see, and where to stay when you get to wherever is next. Sometimes it works out well, that way, sometimes it is all people who want to be by themselves.

Last night I talked for a long time with a couple who have traveled really extensively. For the last four years they have been coming to India annually to buy things, mostly textiles, to take back and sell. They have about worked it out so they can support themselves and their travels this way. Their stories were great, and their ultimate plans are to live abroad somewhere they find idyllic, maybe buy some property, and export to their customer list in the US from there.

Of course, that gives me midnight thoughts about what might be possible from Guatemala or South America, as a means of supporting the travel that Myrna and I will undoubtedly want to have available to us. At the least, it makes for very good dreams and a kaleidoscope of ideas.

Current status: New Delhi to Agra (Taj Mahal) to Jaipur (incredible markets) to Jodhpur (fabulous fort, and more markets) with a side trip to Osian. Tonight, back to New Delhi to finalize my flight to Guatemala and see if I can get my camera repaired. The lens stuck halfway open, and it is magna maddening to be in such a photographer's dream and not have a working camera.

The trip to Osian was a break. A 1 1/2 hour bus ride into the countryside to a village with very interesting Jain and Hindu temples. I talked with the Jain priest for about half an hour, and took lots of pictures - the camera was still working then. It was good for a day away from the horns, noise, hassle, and energy of Indian cities. Jodhpur (and so, Osian) is on the edge of the great Thar desert, which seems to explain the dust and constant haze here. The land is flat and dry, really looks a lot like the Serengeti, except that the level of agriculture is much higher. But you see very little habitation in the countryside. I am told that most of the farmers live in small villages and commute out to their fields every day.

One of the pleasures of traveling is meeting interesting people in the evening,

Well, things happen.

I had to hoof it to the train station, because I lost track of the time while I was in the internet cafe. So I was concerned on my arrival, because my train wasn't listed on the board, and nobody was able to tell me why. Finally I found the Enquiry desk at the far end of the station and found out that the train was delayed for six hours (!). So I took a deep breath, drank a lassi, and took out my guidebook again. That led to a 30 minute ride in an auto-rickshaw to a path up into the mountain above Jaipur.

A 45 minute hike up the very steep path brought me to a small temple with an incredible overview of the city. Until then I hadn't realized how mammoth the city is. It spreads out as far as you can see - there is a perpetual haze in India during the dry season - in the flat plain between two mountain ridges.

Down a twisting path from this temple there was an exquisite set of quirky temples, perpetually in shadow from the mountains towering over them. I would have liked to explore them at some length, but needed to get back for the train.

Of course, the train was delayed again. That gave me time for a very good meal at the Kanji hotel/fast food/sweets/restaurant. Those fantastic little dessert balls soaked in honey are called Golab Jamun. The 12:00pm train finally left at 6:20pm.

Well, life as a backpacker has found some semblance of a routine. Street activity in India, surprisingly, doesn't get underway until 9:30 or 10:00 or so. So it makes sense to sleep late, have a leasurely cup of tea and read the paper or something before starting out. I avoid group tours and do a lot of walking. It is inefficient, but of what use is efficiency anyway when on vacation? Hurry up to see one more nameless monument? I do miss many of the recommended Tourist Locations, but find interesting shops and food, and feel that by hiking even the boring sections of streets I have a little more of a sense of the territory.

Late morning and the afternoon then are for visits to Things / museums, mansions, palaces, buildings, gardens, whatever. Try to find a relatively quiet corner or garden somewhere to take a break with a book or magazine. Through the day there have always been some sidewalk stands or shops with snacks that are too fascinating to pass by. Indian sweets are incredible! And the coffee is excellent, as isthe tea marsala, or chai.

After all that, it is great to get back to the hotel and take a shower and short nap before going out for the evening meal. I'm still not making much progress in learning how to read an Indian menu, but I sure am enjoying the food none the less.

Thinking about it, it is true that India is crowded. But not to the point of the Mass Of Humanity that I had sort of anticipated. There are large public gardens, streets without wall-to-wall shops, and relatively quiet side streets. The shops are full of wonderful fabrics, jewelry, handmade crafts... It is hard to avoid just buying things because they are so desireable and inexpensive. But my interest is in photography and traveling light, so that helps.

Today, 6 hours by train to Jodhpur, where I broke tradition by actually calling to make a room reservation in advance. But the guidebook suggested that the cheap hotels are in a particularly confusing warren of curved, narrow and intersecting streets. It gets dark early here, about 5:30, so I didn't want to be wandering around after dark, lost.

Onward.

HALLELUIAH AND KUDOS TO AFRICA !!!! I see by the latest news headlines: KENYANS have voted to reject a proposed new constitution, dealing an embarrassing blow to President Mwai Kibaki and threatening to break up his coalition Government.

I did not believe this outcome was possible. Kibaki was elected to modify the constitution in a way that reduced presidential power. But when the Kenyan politicians finished modifying the modifications, the result would have essentially given the president UNLIMITED power. All the force of the incumbent government - except for seven legislators who defected - was put behind the campaign to support the modified revisions. That it failed is phenomenal - this bucks all the trends toward ever increasing presidential power that seem so pervasive throughout Africa - in effect, creating democratic dictators.

It raises HOPE!

I arrived in Jaipur, the pick city, just about two hours ago by bus from Agra. Uneventful ride, just long, at 5 hours. We stopped on the way at a market for food - I had a plate of I don't really know what, but it was good, and the first thing I'd eaten today. I intend to have a very good meal at one of the highly recommended restaurants tonight.

I spent the morning in Agra, visiting the Taj Mahal. I wanted to approach it slowly, and so went to the Red Fort yesterday and saw it off in the distance. I got up early this morning - it is recommended that the Taj is especially beautiful in the sunrise, with the added benefit of few tourists there at that hour. Well, FEWER tourists, anyway.

The admission is expensive, by Indian standards - Rs.750, about $15, and they really check you out very thoroughly. I had to go back to leave my calculator in their locker.

But the Taj. It really is spectacular. And there are reflecting pools that are like mirrors in the morning, doubling the beauty of the teardrop domes. Later in the day the surface of the pool becomes rippled, and even later there are little fountains playing so the whole reflection idea disappears. Just before the sun begins to shine on the Taj it looks transparent. Then the sun highlights the features and the towers. Quite spectacular. I took pictures, and pictures of people taking pictures. Everyone seems to want a picture of themselves grinning at a camera with the Taj behind them. Somehow to me it seems inappropriate - the Taj itself is the thing worth recording and it is, after all, a holy place, a mosaleum and memorial to a beautiful woman by a man who is also buried there beside her.

I arrived in Jaipur, the pick city, just about two hours ago by bus from Agra. Uneventful ride, just long, at 5 hours. We stopped on the way at a market for food - I had a plate of I don't really know what, but it was good, and the first thing I'd eaten today. I intend to have a very good meal at one of the highly recommended restaurants tonight.

I spent the morning in Agra, visiting the Taj Mahal. I wanted to approach it slowly, and so went to the Red Fort yesterday and saw it off in the distance. I got up early this morning - it is recommended that the Taj is especially beautiful in the sunrise, with the added benefit of few tourists there at that hour. Well, FEWER tourists, anyway.

The admission is expensive, by Indian standards - Rs.750, about $15, and they really check you out very thoroughly. I had to go back to leave my calculator in their locker.

But the Taj. It really is spectacular. And there are reflecting pools that are like mirrors in the morning, doubling the beauty of the teardrop domes. Later in the day the surface of the pool becomes rippled, and even later there are little fountains playing so the whole reflection idea disappears. Just before the sun begins to shine on the Taj it looks transparent. Then the sun highlights the features and the towers. Quite spectacular. I took pictures, and pictures of people taking pictures. Everyone seems to want a picture of themselves grinning at a camera with the Taj behind them. Somehow to me it seems inappropriate - the Taj itself is the thing worth recording and it is, after all, a holy place, a mosaleum and memorial to a beautiful woman by a man who is also buried there beside her.

Impressed as I am with India, I gotta say that their Gallery of Medern Art in New Delhi is just the pits. Really bad art, most of it looking like studies from a second rate art school. I haven't seen such a poor collection since I was in Warsaw way back in the 80s, but Poland had a reason. Their collections had been raped by both the Germans and the Russians during and after WW-II.

That said, I think maybe I made a mistake in coming to India right after leaving Africa. The contrast does not favor Africa. Much of India is very poor, on a scale not much better than Africa. From the train last night, some of the local markets looked just like Africa, to the point that I almost spaced out on where I was. But India is DYNAMIC. People here are working, scrambling, doing everything they can. Even the beggars seem to be working at what they are doing. The inescapable touts are a continual nuisance, but at least they are trying to DO something for you to earn a few rupees. Annoying, when you don't want anything done for you, but ya gotta cut them some slack for at least trying.

Africa? It is all just I Am Poor So Give Me Money.

Thinking about my potential project to harvest eucalyptus oil. I think that in India, that idea would have people scrambling to see if there was any value there, and people would already be scheming to figure out how they could take it over if it turns out to be worth something. In Africa, it is a relaxed Maybe we will get around to it - and by the way, Who is going to pay us to prepare the samples?

OK, I have vented. I'm in Agra today. Visited the Red Fort that dates from when the Mughols controlled India, and saw the Taj Mahal off in the distance. Looks like a fantasy floating oasis off in the distance from there. I hope my pictures give it that feeling. Tomorrow I will see it up close and personal. Those Mughols were incredible - overran China, overran India, gave Rome nothing but trouble - and I'm sure did a lot more I have no concept of. Overran Turkey too?

Looks like I will have to go back to New Delhi to sort out my flight ticket from Delhi to Guatemala. I made reservations in Africa, but didn't buy the tickets. Now I hear that I can only buy them from my travel agent in Africa or from the airline office itself and that is in Delhi. Rats!

Was today really only my second day in India? It seems that I have seen done experienced so much. The crowded market that is a few steps from my hotel. Breakfast was in a rooftop cafe - a filled parantha with milk tea marsala. The cafe was exclusively backpacker tourist. I walked to Connaught Circle, the center of upscale shops. Couldn't avoid a bookstore, and ended up with the copy of The Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid that I have been wanting. It is printed by Wharton Press in Phila., but I had to come here to buy it. But the Indian version is about $3 instead of maybe $39 or so in the US - although I really haven't looked for it on Amazon.com. Also stopped in at this place Bananas because they were advertising a Real American Banana Split. It has been more than two years since my last one of those. But they didn't actually have it. Surprise? So, two small scoops of vanilla with two of chocolate. Still tasted pretty good.

Spent a few hours at the Sikh Gurdwara here. Huge. There is a big pool - called a tank - with huge carp swimming in it that is part of the complex. I think Sikhs can take spiritual baths in it although I am not sure, and nobody was. They were having a book fair. Lots of interesting books, some even about other things than Sikhism. I bought a book. How could I not? They were also selling piles of the steel rings that Sikhs wear, but I am sticking to the copper bracelet I bought at the Makonde Market about a year ago that turns my wrist green if I don't wash it every day.

Really, I wanted to do something cultural tonight. The only Music/Dance item in the paper was a program of Bharatanaatyam classical dance at the India Habitat Center. So I negotiated for an auto-rickshaw ride. 70 rupees - about $1.75 - for a half hour behind a Mario Andrietti wannabe in a semi-covered three-wheel motor scooter. Reminiscent of the tuk-tuks in Bangkok, and just as fearless. Quite a ride!

The dance was ---- I don't know what word to use. Incredible sounds so trite. It was long solo evening performance of a young girl of this unpronouncible classical dance form. She was the pupil of her parents, who are both gurus of this dance form, and their guru was there also. So, three generations of serious practitioners. Her Mother was also one of the five instrumentalists accompanying the dance. They were not disappointed, and it showed in their intense involvement in her dance also. Sharanya's eyes hands fingers flowing dress movements... just memorable. What a country, what a profusion of culture, here.

Friday, the 18th

The flight from Dubai to Delhi was uneventful, except that I was sitting in a middle seat between a big guy who kept trying to hold a conversation but couldn't because he lost his voice 12 mo. ago when her had a stroke, and another guy who wanted to talk and kept leaning over on me. The personalized video screen in front of me didn't work, so I didn't even have that "out." Some flights are like that.

The plane got in about 3:30am. Immigration was interminable and the baggage claim even slower. Got through all this by about 5. Managed to change some currency - 49.5 rupees per dollar. But the promised Tourist Information Desk doesn't exist, and neither does the promised restaurant for breakfast. I ignored a couple of touts and found a guy wearing a badge to talk to, and he sent me to the Airport Security Mgrs office. They gave me basic advice on areas to stay, and use of their phone to make calls to hotels listed my my Rough Guide to India. The third try landed a reservation at Namaskar Hotel. I found a prepaid cab, ignoring many more touts. The ride, in an ancient Austin with stickers of Lashmi and Shiva on the windshield, took about half an hour and landed us in an area of crowded, dirty alleys with sacred cows ambling along. What could they possibly eat?

Of course the driver couldn't find Namaskar for another 20 minutes. But we finally got there - it is down a crowded path off from the alley, right next to the Hotel Sweet Dream and My Hotel. Vary basic. Cold water only. I took a single room, behind the impressive pile of left luggage, and lay down, falling asleep wondering what I am doing here.

So what AM I doing here? Decided:
Experiencing India
Studying religions, esp. Sikhism and Buddhism
Learning to read an Indian restaurant menu.

Dubai. Uneventful flight, remarkable only because I did not hear a word of Kiswahili on the flight. Arabic, of course.

Dubai is surreal. The city is large and ultra modern, with many milti-story buildings and some skyscrapers, to keep company with what is apparently the tallest building in the world. But it all looks pre-formed. The buildings are all fresh looking, lots of glass and sculpted shapes in fantastic architecture blending the very new and neuvo-arabic. But there isn't much construction going on in the city. It is as if all these buildings were suddenly dropped here, complete, like a Disney Wonderland.

Clearly it is the shopping mecca. Huge, modern malls. Lots of people shopping too - a total mix of colors, mostly swarthy but including verything from very black to the very white tourists and expats. Dress from modern casual to muslim robes, some of the muslim caps, sikh turbans, women in black with only slits to see through, others in tight jeans and tops.

Supposed to be they world's best price on anything electronic, digital or computer. But what I wanted to buy most was a Trio-650. You can get it for $299 from the manufacturer, or as low as $220 by buying on the internet. Here they want about $600 for one. Go figure!

Things got hectic before I finished all the paperwork yesterday, so I ended up with about $500 in Tanzanian schillings that I didn't have time to exchange before I left. None of the foreign exchange offices here will touch them. Not a chance that I can do any better in India or Guatemala. I can see a long struggle ahead before I recover any value from those damn shillings. And their value keeps dropping.

I’m glad my trusty Timex watch tells me the day and date as well as the time. Otherwise it is disorienting to be on a totally different schedule, in a different place. That has been the case this past week, spent with the incoming volunteers in Morogoro, and it can only get worse as I leave Africa for a month in India.

I’ve been looking at my India guidebook a lot. I now think I will spend less time in individual cities than I had thought earlier, and I’ve scratched Varanasi on the Ganges from my plans. But that leaves time to go on from Amritsar to Dharamsala, up north near Kashmir. D. is the residence in exile of the Dalai Lama and many Tibetan refugees. They seem to have a very well developed system of instruction, study, courses and instruction in everything from Tibetan Buddhism, language, and meditation to yoga and philosophy. That, plus the mountain scenery seems well worth the effort, even though I will probably have to buy warm clothing on the spot to survive the climate there. Dharamsala feels a little like a throwback to the ‘60s fascination with Eastern religions, but on the other hand I don’t know that that is necessarily a bad thing.

Christianity. Unitarianism. Sikhism. Buddhism. Judaism, Islam. What strikes me from my small knowledge of all these as I live, travel and make friends is that all of them celebrate the best of humanity and at their heart are concerned with peace and love for others. But I find absolutely no rationality to any of them. They cannot be explained or proven, and must be accepted either by faith or by adherence to the culture into which one is born. I just wish they were all willing to accept and incorporate the scientific knowledge we have and will achieve, and were willing to peacefully accept the validity of other people’s approaches to God and/or universal truth.

As for me, I will continue to pick and choose, study and learn, and make up my own personal, changeable set of beliefs and values as I go along, enjoying and celebrating the beauty and diversity of this my earth and universe, and to try to stay in harmony with it all.

Oh my. Did I write that? I am afraid having a relaxing week in beautiful surroundings before I leave Africa may be making me a bit maudlin. Oh well, so it goes. But, in the end, it ain’t a bad state of mind to be in!

It has been an easy week, and it feels good to switch gears and relax a bit. I’m in Morogoro to assist with training the incoming group of volunteers. My only formal duties are for two presentations on how to choose, organize and execute worthwhile secondary projects while they are on-site. I set it up so I am using my own projects as the examples to talk about. I think that is OK, since my big project failed miserably the first time I tried it, so it illustrates how the same idea can work very well or go down in flames.

After two years here, I am still learning. One of the exercises for the trainees was to visit a bunch of local NGOs. I went along with a group visiting WAMATOM. They make bricks. LOTS of bricks. They have the biggest brickmaking facility I have seen in Tanzania. Some people were digging clay and mixing it with water, others molding the bricks and laying them out to dry, then stacking them so they don’t warp as they dry, then creating huge piles, covered with mud for insulation, and with tunnels in them for wood to fire the construction.

It took us a lot of effort to understand why they are an NGO (actually they weren’t, but an NGO does give them some financial advice and temporary assistance when needed) and what they actually do. Turns out that they are a COOPERATIVE. The members were individual brickmakers who got together and contributed themselves to get the capital to get it going. Now people can join the coop by paying a membership fee, and they get training in making bricks. But they also hire day laborers. Their value to the community is that they have their own business, and they employ people. No mean feat, here in Tanzania.

The epiphany for me was that this effort works, and apparently very well, as a coop. I think of coops only as utopian efforts that don’t last long, or people who get together to save money in buying fresh vegetable. The American model is the entrepreneur, and a business is very hierarchical, with the owner/boss/president responsible for whatever and however things happen. But I really think that here in Tanzania, with its tribal and socialist history, they have a different model. Decisions at meetings are made by consensus, not just by the majority.

So I wonder if my ideas on entrepreneurship, and TechnoServe’s course, should be modified to accommodate businesses incorporated by groups as well as by individuals. Don’t know, but think I will want to talk to Atiba about this when I am in Dar next week.

It pisses me off to be learning things about Africa now, just when I am about to leave. Like mangoes. For two years I haven’t had any of the mangoes from the beautiful trees right outside my house because long before the mangoes ripen, all the little kids in the neighborhood are whacking at the tree with sticks to knock the mangoes down while they are still hard and green. They eat them right away – sort of like our kids eating little green apples. I just found out recently that those green mangoes, if left on a shelf for about four days, will ripen and are quite good to eat. Two years I have missed out on this basic information and now I am going away! Damn!

Sunday, off to Dar es Salaam for three days of medical exams and filling out forms, and then on Wednesday evening, off to India. Wow!

It has been an easy week, and it feels good to switch gears and relax a bit. I’m in Morogoro to assist with training the incoming group of volunteers. My only formal duties are for two presentations on how to choose, organize and execute worthwhile secondary projects while they are on-site. I set it up so I am using my own projects as the examples to talk about. I think that is OK, since my big project failed miserably the first time I tried it, so it illustrates how the same idea can work very well or go down in flames.

After two years here, I am still learning. One of the exercises for the trainees was to visit a bunch of local NGOs. I went along with a group visiting WAMATOM. They make bricks. LOTS of bricks. They have the biggest brickmaking facility I have seen in Tanzania. Some people were digging clay and mixing it with water, others molding the bricks and laying them out to dry, then stacking them so they don’t warp as they dry, then creating huge piles, covered with mud for insulation, and with tunnels in them for wood to fire the construction.

It took us a lot of effort to understand why they are an NGO (actually they weren’t, but an NGO does give them some financial advice and temporary assistance when needed) and what they actually do. Turns out that they are a COOPERATIVE. The members were individual brickmakers who got together and contributed themselves to get the capital to get it going. Now people can join the coop by paying a membership fee, and they get training in making bricks. But they also hire day laborers. Their value to the community is that they have their own business, and they employ people. No mean feat, here in Tanzania.

The epiphany for me was that this effort works, and apparently very well, as a coop. I think of coops only as utopian efforts that don’t last long, or people who get together to save money in buying fresh vegetable. The American model is the entrepreneur, and a business is very hierarchical, with the owner/boss/president responsible for whatever and however things happen. But I really think that here in Tanzania, with its tribal and socialist history, they have a different model. Decisions at meetings are made by consensus, not just by the majority.

So I wonder if my ideas on entrepreneurship, and TechnoServe’s course, should be modified to accommodate businesses incorporated by groups as well as by individuals. Don’t know, but think I will want to talk to Atiba about this when I am in Dar next week.

It pisses me off to be learning things about Africa now, just when I am about to leave. Like mangoes. For two years I haven’t had any of the mangoes from the beautiful trees right outside my house because long before the mangoes ripen, all the little kids in the neighborhood are whacking at the tree with sticks to knock the mangoes down while they are still hard and green. They eat them right away – sort of like our kids eating little green apples. I just found out recently that those green mangoes, if left on a shelf for about four days, will ripen and are quite good to eat. Two years I have missed out on this basic information and now I am going away! Damn!

Sunday, off to Dar es Salaam for three days of medical exams and filling out forms, and then on Wednesday evening, off to India. Wow!

Monday, Nov. 7

I left Mwanza by car with Morris, the Peace Corps driver who had come to Mwanza to drive the PC Director around to visit volunteer sites upon her arrival for our student empowerment graduation. That was yesterday.

So many thoughts, today. Seeing the outdoor market, so bright with its little pyramids of tomatoes, watermelon, mchicha, bell peppers, the women sitting behind each pyramid in their flagrant colorful kangas... Passing the local café where I ate ugali and samaki, sharif, samosas and donuts, spooning sugar and coffee into boiled milk... Mwanza where Jonathan sells his cards, complaining because there are no tourists today. Driving by the Nana Hotel where we stayed overnight and had breakfast on graduation day with a few of the course students, and then VETA where we had the graduation ceremony itself... It is so vibrant and ALIVE. It has left its mark in my being, and I know that I will be remembered here, also.

Morris, nice guy that he is, wasn’t talking much. A raging toothache had kept him from sleeping the night before, and halfway through our drive to Arusha he began to experience the headache and alternate fever and chills of yet another bout with malaria. Our route, the most direct route, took us through the Serengeti and Ngorongoro National Parks, the reverse of our family safari in August. Past the hippo pond, past the stream with all the crocodiles, past many recognizable stream crossings. We even stopped for lunch at the same little restaurant behind the Sarena Lodge. But we were clipping along at 80-90kph, making time. Mwanza to Arusha, where I again stayed in the Meru House Hotel, in 9 hours instead of the 3 days of our safari in the other direction.

Morris and I separated in Arusha – he to get medical attention, me to catch the express bus to Morogoro. Unfortunately it left at 6:30am, so I did not have the chance to do the special shopping for Tanzanite that I’d wanted to do. Hopefully I can make up for that in Dar es Salaam next week.

But the major event that suffuses my mind as I leave is the experience of the graduation. All the pieces came together, like time-lapse photography of a jigsaw puzzle assembling itself. Atiba (Proj. Mgr of TechnoServe and guest speaker) arrived early on Friday. He’d met the other speakers (Christine, Dir. of the PC in Tanzania, and Pam, Dir.of USAID from the embassy) in the airport in Dar, so they talked together. Atiba and I talked, got the summary reports on the course printed and bound, looked over the beautiful certificates he had brought, then went to Kassara’s home in Nyakato to celebrate Eid ul Fitr, the breaking of the fast of Ramadan, with him and his family. Much good food and discussion. There was also a wedding that took place that afternoon in his courtyard, where we were very interested observers. It involved prayerful exchanges with the groom and his friends while the bride waited in a separate room to hear that the celebration was concluded and the women sat in the back and watched. I have to admit that I have not found the appeal of Islam during my two years in Tanzania.

A mixer had been planned for the evening at the Nana Hotel, for Atiba, Christine, the instructors, and Pam who didn’t show up. It also included Ryan and Brian, the other PCVs from nearby sites. It was a pleasant time, and gave ample opportunity for Atiba to discuss the project and its future with Ann Mtayangulwa, coordinator of the project, and I think I made some points meanwhile with Christine.

The graduation ceremony went off quite well. The students arrived on time, and had prepared poems, songs, and a thank-you speech to break up the monotony of three speakers. But Atiba conducted his speech as a dialog with the students, which was a hit with them. Christine talked about the Peace Corps and the importance of small business and what they had accomplished. Pam gave a hard-hitting talk on the necessity of protecting themselves from HIV/AIDS, and the power of women to advance the development of Tanzania. I talked about what the students have LOST by taking the course – especially the ability to say that Tanzania is a poor country without economic opportunities. We gave out certificates to everybody, and $60 awards to the best three business plans.

Then we broke for lunch. The students ate separately and then had a DJ to provide several hours of music. The guests and instructors ate, had several beers and plenty of time to talk about the project, why and how it should be continued. I handed out the 16-page descriptions of the project that we had printed yesterday. With their stiff backing paper, clear plastic cover and spiral binding, they really did look pretty snazzy!

Not a bad show at all. Lots of good memories to carry with me and to think about today.

Thursday.
Last night was a validation of my time here. The instructors and Coordinator of the entrepreneurship course wanted to give me a send-off before the graduation and my departure this weekend. Everyone was there, and we got together at the Wanda Hotel – an old, pleasant hotel in Mwanza. We still had a lot of details to discuss for the graduation, but it all seems to be falling into place now.

We sat on the porch and drank beer, ate a light dinner and talked. We toasted each other. They gave me a beautiful, embriodered batik African shirt, and matching batik fabric for Myrna. The whole evening was just very warm and friendly. They take a lot of pride in the program, as they should, and they kept saying how important I was in creating the program and in assisting throughout the year.

It is true that it was my initiative that got it all going, but only with tremendous support from the schools and from our partner, TechnoServe. But they are the ones who did the work and made it happen. I use the analogy that they created an explosion, and I was fortunate enough to be the person who held the match.

But I did help grease the wheels, even here at the end. There were several schools who were balking at providing lunch money and transportation for their students. Those problems tended to melt away when I went along to explain the program and why the contribution was needed. Like it or not, white skin plus age carries prestige here, no matter how much they would like to be rid of all residual colonial influence.

We do have a slight problem. The conference center seats probably 120 comfortably. As of now, it looks like we have about 150 or 160 people coming, counting students, instructors, speakers, and headmasters plus some parents and friends. Could be interesting.

Today I stayed home to finish writing the Grant Completion Report, and modifying it into a Project Report that we can use to publicize the project and hopefully create some local financial support among the schools and businesses. Otherwise, I’m about ready to clear out. I’ve been giving stuff away, the suitcase and refugee bag are full, my walls and bookcases look bare. My dining table/desk is an absolute mess though, with all kinds of odds and ends of tasks that aren’t quite complete yet.

The last thing that really troubles me is that I have not been able to find a new home for Hodie when I leave. I’ve talked to everybody I can and posted notices with her picture in the internet cafés, but to no avail. I do not want to give her to a Tanzanian, who will try to chain her outside and make her fierce to use as a watchdog. She is a good watchdog, actually – woke me up a few nights ago when a guy was trying to climb over my courtyard wall. Tanzanians don’t understand that a friendly pet can also be protective. For that matter, they don’t even understand the idea of “friendly pet.”