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.
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.
posted by Nancy at 10:15 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home