What Time is It in Tanzania

When I lived at the Catholic Center before, I used to get confused about when the dinner was served. The housekeepers there spoke very little English. They would tell me that dinner was at 2. Then I learned that the day starts at 6 a.m. or sunrise in Tanzania. In other words, 7 a.m. is really 1 a.m. in Tanzania and 8 pm is 2 pm in local time.

Just like in Latin America, the concept of being puntual was foreign to them. My friends often show up much later than the agreed time. There is a saying that the Westerns have the watch but Africans have the time. It is so true and a good reflection of their easy-going lives.

Set Back

Moses and I went back to the Mbulu region this weekend. I was excited about giving our first traning for the farmers in Haysali. The plan was to teach them composting which utilizes resources they already have in the maize field. This should increase land fertility and reduce water usage. If they follow through, they should be able to have some vegetables in 2 months to relieve the food shortage issue.

We squeezed into the Land Cruiser along with 12 other passengers as last time. It cut through the mountains so we could get to the region quickly. As soon as we dropped off our luggage at the guest house, we hopped on a car and were on our way to Haysali. I asked the driver to stop by Kainam before our final destination, hoping to find the village leader so we could include their farmers in our next training. Kainam is probably in worse shape than Haysali since it gets less rainfall. For the second time, we missed the village leader.

Our next stop was the family in Kainam who just lost the grandfather. We were finally able to meet with the son who is the only one in the family who speaks Swahili. We wanted to know more about his farming techniques and family situation to figure out how to help him. He said he couldn't attend our meeting today because he needed to go to the mill to grind the maize (probably the one that dropped off last time). It's hard to expect a farmer to think long term when his family is starving.

Just as we were finishing our discussion, the rain started pouring on us. The driver suggested that we turned back because of the road condition. I didn't want to give up and urged them to continue on with the hope that the rain would stop soon. It didn't take long for me to realize that it was too dangerous for us to go up into the mountains in the rain. The engine stopped as we tried to make our way up. The driver stuck his head out so we could steer the car in reverse to back up. He was soaking wet by the time we turned the car around. A few minutes later, we ran into a slippery slope. This time, the car skid downward and sideway until it hit a small sand dune. We decided to leave a message with the family in Kainam and asked him to deliver it to the leader in Haysali.

I was disappointed that the training didn't take place as planned but was glad that the farmers were finally getting much needed rain. It's been almost a month since the one-day rain a month ago.

I also heard that the government was doing food rationing this weekend. It's free for the most poor and 50 Tanzanian Schillings or US 50 cents for the others. Some villagers slipped and struggled to walk home with the maize the rain avalanched down the road. Although it's a one-time food program, it couldn't have come at a better time as most farmers are already running out of food. The effort was delayed by the rain but I am sure will resume again as soon as the rain stops.

From Tanzania, Africa

Return to Haysali

When I visited Haysali 2 weeks ago, I knew this is where my new project should focus on. I talked to several experts in agriculture and livestock to prepare myself for this trip. I also spoke with some NGOs to see if anyone was already working in the area or would be interested in reaching out. None of them had the bandwith to do so. This makes it even more important for me to try to do everything I can to bring help to the area, no matter how small it is. I was able to convince Moses who has agriculture background to join me in my efforts.

The agriculture officer from the area accompanied us on our visit. With his help, we were able to gather 35 villagers to attend our discussion. I asked everyone to introduce themselves and tell us about their family size, land acreage and main challenges. It was obvious that most families are large and yet have land that is one acre or less. The drought, steep hills and lack of good agricultural techniques and materials have compounded the problem.

As soon the men started talking, I noticed that the women became very shy and their participation diminished. I decided to break up the group by gender so we could talk to them separately.

Small land and successive drought not only limits the farm output, it also creates a situation where livestock and competing for food. One of the families only had 2 bags of maize left in their storage. With no rain in sight, there would be no new maize for months. I was horrified.

Over population causes encroachment on the pasture and water sources so the animals are not fed properly and it takes longer to raise a pig or cow before they could be sold for extra income. Most people still live in traditional (thatched) houses with no electricity. There was very little grass left to build their roof or feed their animals. Even growing vegetable has become challenging due to lack of water.

The villages will need help very soon, and I am not sure if the government will be able to come to their rescue as the villagers are hoping for. I felt so heavy as I left the villages.

From Tanzania, Africa

Goodbye Grandpa. Hello Famine

I went back to Haysali and Kainam Villages in the Mbulu area. Things are getting worse fast.

I met up with some government officials for a brief discussion the day before I went into the village. When I told one of them that there was a drought in the villages last time I visited, the officer said that there was no drought since the villages are located high up in the moutains and have more rainfall and moist than most areas. For a while I thought I might have been misinformed during the previous trip. But when we visited the places the next day, I soon realized that I probably knew more about the problems facing the villags than the government did.

First we stopped in Kainam to visit the family that I mentioned 2 weeks ago in "I am ok. Please help the less fortunate." post. I asked about the grandfather who was sick last time and suggested that we gave the maize flour to someone else with more urgent needs. When I heard the news that he had passed away, tears streamed down my face. I wish I had insisted on giving them the food last time. It was obvious that they were in dire condition. There was no rain after one day of shower 2 weeks ago. The family had only about one quarter of acre of land for a family of 7 when it usually takes one whole acre to feed a family of that size in a good year with abundant rainfall. The family had no food in storage and had begun eating the leaves of little bean trees, which would likely reduce the output of the beans in the long run. Her son was out looking for a job this time instead of working on the farm since there had been no rain.

We went on to Haysali for a meeting with the villagers. I will write more about in the next post. I picked up some maize there from a farmer. One the way home, we stopped by the grandmother's house again hoping to meet with the son so we could understand a little bit more about their farming techniques and family situation in order to figure out a way to help them. We missed him again but left the maize with the family this time. Originally, I wanted to buy the maize from a poor farmer in Haysali in order to help the other poor family in Kainam, thinking that it would help 2 families at the same time. The irony was that no poor families still had food surplus for sale. One of them only had 2 bags left which would run out very quickly.

We could all sense a diaster is looming.

From Tanzania, Africa

Valentine's Day

I ended up spending Valentine's Day with 78-year-old Peter. He is here to run his own NGO. His wife died of cancer 6 years ago. Her birthday was on Valentine's Day. I saw him at a coffee shop by himself and started chatting with him. I could tell that he was sad and probably didn't want to be alone at home so I invited him to join me for dinner.

Peter and his wife met 5 years before they started dating. At the time, his wife-to-be was married to a Dutch client of Peter's. The first time they met, he knew that she was the right person for him if he decided to remarry. He often dined with the couple but avoided being alone with Christine.

Several years later, Peter was relocated to London. Christine found out about it from the newspaper. She called Peter's secretary to set up a lunch appointment but instructed the secretary to put down a fake name on Peter's calendar.

Christine showed up as planned. When she asked Peter to have lunch with her, he declined saying that he was having lunch with Mr. Johnson, the fake name Christine used. Christine explained that she was already divorced and she was the "Mr. Johnson".

Two years later, Peter proposed to her 2 days before Valentine's Day. Christine waited until Valentine's Day to say her "Yes" which she put on a small heart-shaped card. Until today, Peter still kept the "yes" card with him.

From Tanzania, Africa

Rain

The rain finally came! And it came hard. I was awaken by the sound of pounding rain in the middle of the night yesterday I was elated! We are praying that this will continue.

With rain come mosquitos and flies. They are brutal, especially, with muzugu, or foreigners. The locals told me that was to welcome us to the community.

But drought is not the only threat faced by the farmers here. I just learned that there is an insect that is destroying the crops in Southern Tanzania. It is moving the North where I live and can soon affect the farmers here.

From Africa, Tanzania

Daladala

Daladala is the public transportation for the poor. It's a share-ride minivan, usually pretty beat-up, that locals in Tanzania use to get around town. They stop along the way to collect as many passengers as possible, sometimes up to 25 or more. It is not the most comfortable, especially when it is hot and sweaty, but I enjoy riding it most of the time.

For one thing, it is one of the few places where I get charged the same amount as the locals. It is cheap - I paid about 40 cents for a 16km ride to Arusha from Usa River where I live. It is also a great place to see the old friendly culture still alive. Strangers would hold your babies for you to help squeeze out more space to take on another passenger. Men would give up their seats as soon as they see elders and women with babies. It is a wonderful place to see people helping strangers as if they were their own families.

From Tanzania, Africa

Rwanda Tribunal

Early Feb - The 4th month in the rain season. The weather has cooled down a bit this week, but there is still not a single drop of rain.

I finally visited the big UN establishment here which employees over 1000 people. The Rwanda Tribunal was in session today so I decided to sit in for a few hours. The trials had begun since 1997. So far only 26 cases have been tried and completed with 50 more to go. Once sentenced, most were sent to Mali for jail time. Most of the refugee camps are located in the western Tanzania.

The trials proceeded slowly very slowly. They called the defendants "witnesses" which was a bit confusing to me. One of the two sat in a secret booth to protect his identify. Both denied all the charges that the prosecutors brought up in the questions who wore the trial lawyer wigs. It looked like none of the judges (chambers) or lawyers in the courtroom but I was not very sure. It made me wonder about how much of a role, if any, the US is playing in prosecuting those involved in Rwanda genocide.

The Rubbish Show

Most people here in Tanzania prefer to use plastic bags which they discard on the street, posing a major environmental problem.

I met Lucy at Faye Cran's. She is a gardener from London who is here to set up a recycling project. It has not been easy but she has not given up. She is always upbeat and bubbly so I love to help her out. She is putting together a fashion show for this Sunday using plastic bags or used fabric to raise fund for her project and educate people about the business opportunities of using recycled materials.

We got together yesterday to make handbags for sale at the event. The ladies from Sibusiso help sewn the bags using lien cut from shippers and leftover fabric. I then decorated them with ribbons, buttons laces donated by the local taylors. It was hard work but fun and creative at the same time.

We are putting out flyers printed on the back of used menu at the tourism office and several hotels. I even helped with creating the banners to put up along the main road to advertise the event.

We hope that the project will help the poor family start a home industry by selling products using recycled materials.

From Tanzania, Africa

I am OK. Please Help the Less Fortunate.

We finally set out for our journey to the countryside to scout for candidates for my new project early this week. It was so nice to get out of Arusha where the minds and hearts of people have been corrupted by the easy money from tourists and NGOs. We heard that the people in Mbulu were stricken by poverty and decided to check it out.

We drove slowly on the unpaved road so we wouldn’t punch a hole in the gas tank or the tires. I was so glad that the small 4-door Toyota about the size of a Civic had tinted windows that could be rolled up all the way to shut out the dust. What a luxury! It’s funny how you learn to appreciate little thing like that.

After a day of driving, we finally arrived in the town of Mbulu, the land of Irqw people. We kept on driving to get to the small villages and were welcome by scenic rolling hills dotted with straw-roofed houses. At one point, we drove by a huge lake that had become shallow. It was beautiful. Soon we realized that it must have rained recently because life seemed to have returned to the maize fields.

Most villagers traveled by foot. It was so refreshing to see delight and genuine smile on their faces when I waved at them that I kept at it all day. They were happy to see me as a friendly visitor and not a walking ATM. There were still few traditional houses that were built underground to safeguard themselves against Maasai who had a traditional of stealing cows from the others.

We stopped at a house off the main road. The back of the house was only about 30 cm off the ground. The roof was supported by branches and tilted so that the front of the house was about the height of a school child. We found the lady of the house behind the bushes as she put out her laundry. She welcomed us to her house, which she and her husband shared with their 4 kids, mother-in-law and all the animals.

We bent over to get inside the house. The in-law was cooking beans so the dark room was filled with smoke (There are no chimney and windows in the traditional house). I tried to keep my tearful eyes open as the woman handed me her 10-day-old baby. It was a big honor because most families like to keep the babies away from the visitors who are believed to have evil eyes.

“How is life?” My friend asked her.
“Fine! Things are good. The rain has just returned so there is hope.” She replied with a smile.

Looking around the house that barely had anything, I was stunned by her response and moved by her optimism and good nature. What a world of difference from the greedy give- me-some-money” people in the big city who often ask me for handout even when they already have decent jobs. The easy money from NGOs and philanthropists has made honesty seem like a rarity in Arusha.

We gave her a big bag of maize flour as a gift so she can share with their neighbor.

The next day, we took a different road to go to Haysahi. The landscape was different but scenery was just as stunning. People managed to clear some land in the mountain or deep valleys. One of the families had an ailing grandfather and kids in dirty torn clothes. They did not speak any Swahili so we suspected that they were not in school. The cows were bony and barely surviving after 4 months of drought. Although it rained briefly a few days ago and the new leaves were popping up from the soil, the newly-planted will all die if the rain did not return again within 7 days. We offered to leave the family with some maize flour that we brought with us but the family suggested that we give it to others that are starving. “The rain had just come. Soon we will be able to harvest our maize (that was grown at the beginning of the rain season). We are going to be ok.” Reluctantly, I said good-bye to the old lady.

On the way home, we heard that the crater in Lake Manyara National Park was almost 95% dry. The 13 rivers that used to feed into the crater are now dried up. We encountered sand storm as we approached Arusha. Things seemed to have gotten worse since we left town. Dust filled the sky in Arusha as if the doom day was coming soon. I found myself thinking of the old lady again and hoping that she and her family would be ok.