A Day in the LIfe

These last two weeks have been a busy time with school and village visits, each day planned the day before with at least a few options in the hopes that one or more work out. In most cases the day unfolds, often with serendipity, and to our own surprise we accomplish quite abit and still make it home before dark. Many people ask me how the specifics of the day go so I thought I would describe an average one, say our school visit day on Tuesday or Jumanane.

We stay in a cement block house we call Cacha house named after our NGO. Even Audrey says, " I like our little Cacha house," though her first task upon arriving was to do a thorough cleaning. Now the standards have dropped and even Audrey feels the futility in fighting the red dirt and is relieved that "at least this dirt is our dirt". About 4:30 AM the roosters nearby begin to crow and other birds, black and orange, land and take off from the metal roof. The church bells start at 5:30. This clanging is just a taste of what is to come at six. We climb out from under mosquito nets and there is some taking stock; toenails, bites and the day's agenda. The shower stall is painted naval gray but we have hot water from a heating tank in the corner. We put the padlock on the door of the kitchen that Audrey says reminds her of Heritage Park in Calgary. Up past the hospital to the new but unfinished Visitor Centre we pass through a corrogated metal barrier into a block room with high ceilings and a long dining table covered in clear plastic. Echos bounce. Powdered Africa cafe with powdered Nido milk is mixed with boiling water from a thermos. This gets us going. There is toast( if the power is on), bananas, tomatoes and one boiled egg per person. After breakfast we thank Emeliana, " Asante sana kwa chai" and head to the OVC office to get ready the day.

Our plan is to visit six schools so Sunday and Irene are on it knowing this is a tall order. Then Sunday disappears for awhile and we find out he was tasked to get milk from St. James school but eventually, after a wait, he returns and we pile into the truck. As we pass through the hospital gate Maximilian's mother, who has come from 10 km away, runs up to the car in her best kitange with a rooster in a cardboard box, a thank you for the school support her son is receiving! Hoots go up as we debate to eat it or reproduce it. The rooster has since spent the last few days under, and tied to, a wooden box in the dining room as we decide it's fate.

Taking the car means that you have to put gas in it and the one riding in the car needs to put the gas in it. The hospital can't afford to underwrite others travel even if it means not filling up the car at the last gas station, last trip. So we widely detour to Marangu, 10 km to the east and find in the middle of a dirt clearing a gas pump and a table with Kili wter bottles full of kerosene, the gas station. There is no gas for the car. So down the tarmac road to Himo at the base of Kilimanjaro we go. At the next station the power is out so the pump will not work. At the third station the worker just waves us on with no explaination. Still further, almost half way to Moshi we fill up and consider the cost in mileage just to do it!

Now that we are in the lowland we decide to visit the schools starting at the lowest elevation and work up the mountain, Mandaka Vocational first. We are greeted and brought into the room where the headmaster, the second head and the secretary work each at separate tables piled high with papers and files, untidily. While reviewing results and discussing fees for the four kSF students, in the next room a plumbing class is in session and students are transcribing notes and drawings from an old plumbing text so precisely it's beautiful, pipes and connections all labelled. In the mechanic shop a few motors and other parts are raised on wooden blocks around an old vehicle, which sits like a cadaver in a dissecting class. The wood shop is empty except for the teacher among a pile of wood sawing with the handsaw backward, two hands pushing down and away from him, similar to how men in the village handsaw planks. The headmaster says the man is left handed with only a right-handed saw. Finally to the welding shop where we look at a new pushcart the school designed, now tested in the village.

On to Mrereni secondary school where the sign threatens punishment if anything but English is is spoken and then wishes us a warm welcome. Margareth Mboya has passed Form 4 and we are waiting for exams results. Anna finished Form 4 but then... ooops...suddenly married despite asking for nursing training last spring. At least she's had 4 years secondary schooling which statistically could boost her income earning by 10% with each year completed. Same with Agatha but visiting her home the next day and seeing the poverty of surroundings and mental illness in her mother I wondered if she found some benefits to marriage. Another student Fora Riwa has replaced her for school sponsorship. We visited her home too, a tidy shamba with a pole and mud house where her mother cares for a paraplegic husband injured in an accident. Laying in a dark back room, catheter bag on the dirt floor, the air thick and organic, he was very happy to greet us and uncovered two useless legs with the skin surprisingly intact. These are the sorts of families that can be helped by relieving them of the burden of school fees so they can deal with a myriad of other challenges. By the way we spied some red chilies growing among her bananas and made a purchase of some of the hottest flamers that later Lockie has his face pressed into a plate of rice to kill the pain.
Onward and upward we stopped next at Olaleni in time to see the kids receiving a non-denominational morality lecture. After, we arrived to Ifati and Rukima where 15 KSF students still await results for Form 4 and finally we arrived to Lombeta to wait in a long line of locals for teachers to finish their meeting so we could discuss school fees, the light beginning to fall out of the sky. We studied results posted on the walls to find that 2 out of 6 KSF students had failed to pass exams and that 10 of Sunday and Irene's Cacha funded students had failed. While waiting we discussed best actions to take. Do we repeat? Do we give second chances? Exams are so critical here, the only measure of performance. But what if Raziki's brother died a week before he sat the exam? Many issues we discussed as light fell, deepening the colors of trees and the orange and purple uniforms on the landscape. Before dark we arrived through the gates of Kilema with waves to the guard. Showers, Tuskers, dinner and early to bed.
So there is a day....unfolded.
PS I discovered why our young prodigal student was discharged from St. James. After a visit to his newUomboni school, so far up the mountain the air is cool and Kilimanjaro's top looks like a hill, I met with Maxi and the headmaster who asked him to quietly shut the door before his confession. He was caught with a cell phone against regulations. Imagine that!

Status Update: Physical and Otherwise

Our party of six is all well now though Rob from Holland was down hard with illness after discovering he had consumed a non-veg mmembe or mango. White wriggling proteins and other microbiology had us starting Cipro before long( thanks for the supply Dr. Freigang!)with favorable results. Rob was up though weak the next day and filmed again in his focused way thereafter. Even Audrey began dosing with Rob's leftover tabs. This trip has had us tucking into the first aid kit with some regularity, Lockie with self-inflicted road rash after a sandal kicking competition. Well schooled in tropical risks he said to Claire, "I need a band aid right away. We need polysporin, Claire. We are in Africa, you know!" He has scrapes on his scrapes after tripping down the walk carrying our daily supply of beverages, Tuskers, Serengetis and Kilimanjaros which he is responsible for purchasing at the duka. As a fridge stocker he is under-age but enthusiastic, paid in Fanta passion soda and consuming 1-2 per day! Claire's allergies have plagued her with constant dust, especially earth and maize all around. Bites of various size and description are counted daily and I for one am happy to have fresh non-expired benedryl on hand. But this Sunday morning we are all sitting at the YMCA taking coffee on the terrace, watching clouds form beneath Kilimanjaro, power out, modem useless, texts delayed but all in reasonable health.

This week has been busy largely devoted to filming and orienting our group to the new surroundings. We have been lucky enough to capture both orphan distribution days which are a significant part of what the program here does. First the school supplies and uniforms last week and then a food distribution this Saturday. The fundi or workman carried huge kilo sacks of maize into the store room fresh from grinding at the parish mill. Bags of maize like a set of drums were set up around Lockie and Audrey, with a plastic juice pitcher to portion out the maize flour. At home this is mixed with water and stirred on the fire to make ugali the local starchy staple. The method is similar to making oatmeal. Claire measured dried beans in the same manner. Children who need food, about 50% of the orphans,receive a pitcher of maize and beans, a bar of hard but excellent washing soap( I bring it home to Canada!) and a liter of cooking oil. While Sunday the OVC coordinator screened the arriving children, Rob and Priya filmed and I stationed myself at the oil distribution station, dipping and pouring by funnel, palm and sunflower oil into old plastic water bottles and various grimy containers. Familiar faces were many among children and grandmothers there to collect and again many happy reunions and greetings. Again I was left with the impression of growing, maturing children; faces the same but bodies much bigger.

Later in the day after gulping lunch we set off to catch a dalla dalla to Moshi town, with all our group wondering when the wreck would stop admitting new passengers. Not yet done for the day we set off to the markets on double road to look for filming opportunities among tailors and cobblers working busily in the spin off economy that the start of school stimulates. After a few false starts with wary tradespeople we met an mzee( old man) making shoes for the last 40 years. It turned out he was from Mauwa village which I know and we both know Exupery Mosha a local councilman who helps me with many students at Ifati and Rukima schools. In payment I ordered 3 pair size 9 girls school shoes, jet black, sturdy and most surprisingly coveted. The tailor we filmed was a young woman willing to sew a blue primary school skirt on camera. Her friend near by turned out to be an orphan who was sponsored by Priya's NGO contact Kiwwakuki. So connections all around and in a very African way! We've reviewed segments of the footage now that we are done and it's really something. I welcome having a pro around to capture the subtleties and individual character of some of the people here and hope that the short we produce will be a helpful teaching tool. Many thanks to Rob and Priya for jumping on the task!

Vocational school is not yet open so looking for teaching opportunities for Claire and Audrey elsewhere. On Thursday, children with HIV came in to be seen at the CTC (Counselling and Treatment Centre), a safe and non-stigmatizing acronym for HIV clinic. After being seen by Dr. Nyaki and team on the first floor they drifted up en mass to visit big brother bear, Sunday in the OVC office and he napped amongst them on his lunch break. Audrey and Claire took advantage of the cluster of children to teach English, draw and read stories. I watched Audrey read a story to a little girl who had her chin in hand, elbow tucked into Audrey's lap. Teachers often express great satisfaction here working with so many eager and attentive children. That sea of smiling faces is always one of the highlights of being here.

The day at Kilema unfolds in a very unpredictable ways so I have taken advantage of the uncertainty by posting myself in the OVC office to receive a trickle of students, caregivers and advocates who arrive unannounced but often right in the nick of time. It happened again that just as I needed Augustine to confer on some detail he walks into the office, a kindly small man who has been the most consistent advisor and helpful home based care worker. This time he has brought his reading glasses which are as round as a coffee mug, covering most of his forehead and the arms of which are too short to reach behind his ears so stop on top. The lens are thick and magnify warm brown eyes. He has brought Ambrose Tesha who is now a giant of a boy, fully matured and heading into his final year of vocational studies- construction. He has brought his certificates showing a B in his trade theory. Vocational has been a good decision for him. Jenipher Mehenge came in by herself and was able to describe her competency in installing florescent lights, bulb lights and the sockets needed to juice mine and a million ofher cell phones. Her english was as clear as her gaze and I could see a change in her level of confidence. She left with counterbooks, pens and pencils and shirts from GlenLyon Norfolk School. The mother of Maximillian Raziki, a widow on treatment, arrived with a kitange for a gift and the news that her son, KSF programs's best performing student, had been asked to leave St. James Seminary for "unavoidable reasons." St. James is certainly the best school in the district on one of the best in the country and is a place where priests are made. Perhaps his crime is that he likes girls. Perhaps he is more interested in receiving an excellent education than becoming a priest, a common deception.What ever the case we will continue to help him complete his studies at Umboni Secondary school in Marangu. I'll let you know what his secret is when I find out. Actually I'm dying to know. St Seminary has wished for us abundant blessings in the meantime.

Well more on village and school visits later...for now...tutaonana badaaye kidogo.

Karibu Kilema

Greetings to everyone in Canada! You sure seem far away especially after our epic three day journey here complete with an unexpected stopover in Nairobi after our connection left early, yes early. Our reduced fare price seemed less a good deal and we were introduced to considerable bureaucracy early in the game with a cascade of kiosk lineups for Kenyan visas, transport and accommodation vouchers. Mellow officials provided multiple good lessons in letting go. I strained to see what I could of Nairobi through a small sprawl of warehouses until we reached our hotel where my card key failed to unlock the door of my room after three tries and that’s when the guard with the widest and most brilliant of smiles said “Tulia”, meaning stay calm in Swahili, expressing the most important social rule here. Later everything was made better with a cool Tusker beer and buffet with “action cooking”, it being New Years after all. A happy one to everyone reading!

We’ve all adapted well to life here especially after a few days of travel and safari up front which helps to shed some perspective on where we’ve landed. It is a great chance for new arrivals to experience the change; the heat and dust, street dramas, grime and wear of local buses, crush of people at market, carts on the street, baskets on heads, and the smell of sweat. Audrey and Claire have been giggling at local translations, Bobby instead of Lobby, and other idiosyncratic details of life here. Another sign read, “Please accounting your valuables. We are not responsible for any loose of your stuffs.” Or the best safari slogan, “we go thro’ every measure…. to give you wild pleasure.” They were game in the intense Arusha market where finding a skirt with a Value Village tag Audrey laughed and even harder after the seller asked if that was her village. “Yes!” she said. Lockie, our over the moon happy boy finally was fitted in Masaai shoes made out of old retreads. Later at Meru House hostel we signed in with Harling Pointers as our ‘tribe’. Boniface our friend and safari guide proved again his skill at sightings, producing three reclining cheetah after seeing just a flicker of tail in high grass near Ndutu. Audrey and Claire fly swatted as many tsetsi as sighted zebra. And in the crater two lion gnawed on a wildebeest.

Back in Moshi we united with the remainder of our party Rob and Priya from Amsterdam, here to experience Kilema hospital and create a short film about the Kilema Orphan Program and the Back to School. We piled into an unmufflered dalla dalla for the ride up to Kilema with all duffels in tow, having lost none to the Nairobi hiccup above.

As expected we’ve been pulled happily into the busy world of Kilema Hospital since last Friday, together with a group of Rotarians from Ontario who come every year to participate in local community projects mostly school and hospital infrastructure and equipment. After settling into our rooms (we’re sharing rooms with Sunday in Cacha house, my old home with the lovely porch next to the sometimes noisy maternity ward) the greetings began and still continue as we run into staff and friends. Sr. Clarissa and long serving Emiliana the cook were full of greetings as were Sunday and Irene, local Tanzanians who run the Kilema orphan program. Cacha has three CIDA interns working on site at various jobs, which had me again reflecting on the many extraordinary young people doing interesting things here at Kilema. Everyone sends greetings to Canada and Dr. Chris even though they agree we’ve brought a little one, Lockie.

Saturday had all of us helping to outfit about 200 local orphan or vulnerable children with shirti, skirti, shorts, socki, viatu(shoes), daftari(notebooks) pens and pencils and school bags, many of which were brought over in our duffel bags. With so many children and unregistered orphans- orphans not connected to any support organization- it was wonderful to have extra supplies to give free. Claire Takoski was a girl on a mission, sizing uniforms and shoes, counting out pens and pencils and taking obvious pleasure in the young children before her. Much hand holding! Together with Audrey, Lockie and Franki, the lovely son of Rotary volunteer Irene, a few hundred pre-measured shoes were laid out and fitted with efficiency. Rob and Priya focused on filming the distribution and we’ve since filmed interviews with Dr. Nyaki, Sr. Clarissa, Sunday and Irene and various people and details related to the OVC program. In the last few days we’ve filmed at Kichilioni primary school, where Lockie should be attending starting tomorrow, and Kisaluni Primary and Secondary just down from Kilema hospital where many teachers displayed amazing talents while film rolled. We were so impressed! And they were delighted to hear it! Much slapping handshakes and laughter after. Filming in the village and with Moshi cobblers and tailors who make school uniforms should complete the task, with editing to follow upon returning home.

Each day since my arrival children who are funded by donors to the KSF fund trickle in and reviews of this past academic year begin along with planning for the next. More on these details later but I’m left with a few immediate impressions. The children are bigger and well into puberty in many cases, they look healthy, their English is better in most cases and they are speaking more directly to me without help from a representative. They are talking about goals as well as challenges. It’s really exciting. Many children who entered the orphan program in 2008 when we lived her are bigger, looking healthy and vibrant, even ones I know are HIV positive. Deo, who lost his remaining parent, a father in 2008, is now a mechanic and welder in Dar salaam and greeted me with a huge smile and eye contact! . In three years I can see remarkable progress with so many children. I’m grateful to have this history here.

Thanks again to everyone who dropped donations and cheques at my door and to everyone who has shown and expressed interest in helping this community. It is wonderful to be here with friends on their first visit and see them take it all in.

We are working with a modem connected to the cell communications and having trouble uploading photos so will have to wait til we go to town for better transmission.

Thanks everyone! Baadaya