Long Journey Home

Well, my time in Tanzania has come to an end.  When my first placement ended last December I renegotiated with CUSO for only a years’ service.  Since then I have moved from leaving in mid-October to August for several reasons: Phase I of current project was finished; tenants gave notice for Sept 1; returning to work in Sept was more useful to EDP than middle of October.    Having been through re-entry culture shock before, I knew I had to give myself at least a month to resume my Canadian life. 

The ending was pleasant and touching.  It started a week or so ahead when the other volunteers at Sega took me out for lunch.  I was then acknowledged and thanked by the staff at Sega after work one day, including sharing ‘bites’ (snacks) and requests for email exchange etc..  The girls at the school sang to me and one class in particular did an individual thank you (those are the girls who are graduating this November and so my work was particularly helpful for them).  On my final evening in Morogoro, Polly (director of Sega) had me over for dinner ‘en famillie’ with John and young Martha.  That brought me full circle as I shared a family Easter Dinner with them upon my arrival in the spring.

Upon arriving in Dar I had the opportunity to say ‘fare-thee-well’ to several of the volunteers I’d come to know along the way including the British couple from Kabaya and Nilusha from Zanzibar.  I felt the sadness of leaving a good friend, Michelle, whom I met in Ottawa where we were room-mates.  Since then we’ve spent a lot of time together and had regular communication so we’ve become close friends.  What was supposed to be my last evening in Dar was perfect when I was hosted by Neema, Tumiani and their two babes.  Lesley from the UK joined us and it was a lovely evening with a great home cooked meal and exchanging sentiments and gifts. 

 

I said ‘supposed to be my last evening’ as my departure was delayed by a day when they over-sold my flight.  I hung out in the luxury of the Holiday Inn and used it as ‘transition time’ including eating a Canadian breakfast (French toast with maple syrup and back bacon) and treated myself to a massage.  But mostly I used the time to further reflect on my time as a volunteer in International Development in Tanzania and to notice the in-between-time which occurs when one moves from one great adventure/experience (travel, ceremony, birth, death etc) to the next page of our life’s story.  I find it to be one of those times when I have to consciously remain aware of the moment, resisting re-living the past or imaging the future.

I may have mentioned before that I read somewhere that people who do this kind of work are commonly ‘Misfits, Missionaries or Malcontents’.  I believe I fall into all 3 of those categories.  As for the first, I have never quite fit the ‘average’ of a Canadian middle-class lifestyle (and in some strange way I really like being different).  I have always loved to travel and first recall my budding interest in cultural anthropology as a  17 year old visiting Montserrat.  I can also see how I fit the Missionary description before signing up for CUSO.   This was not a religious zeal, but in terms of my belief system concerning fairness and opportunity for all.  I also wanted to ‘pay-forward’  my privileged life by offering my ‘gifts and skills’ to help the lot of others.  However, my views have changed since being in Tanzania and having experienced the international development ‘industry’ first hand.  In brief, I see how I was naive and presumptuous in spite of all the homework, reading and reflecting I had in preparation.   I had a philosophy based on ‘teach a man to fish’ but now it’s shifted to ‘teach a person to fish when then ask very clearly and specifically for that education’.  As for the final descriptor of Malcontent, I have always had a critically analytical view of our society coupled with a ‘wonder-lust’ thriving on Spiritual quest, change and adventure.  If that makes me a malcontented person, then so be-it.

My cousin Barb asked me what and who I was going to miss the most as I left Tanzania.  I know this awareness will unfold over time and to be honest, my first thoughts were of what I missed from home and was looking forward to seeing/doing/being.  As for what Tanzania had to offer, I will miss certain people and the geography.   Both of these have marked me deeply.  Initially I felt like I was being stripped of all my defenses, comforts (internal and external) and especially my longstanding sense of safety in the world.  My sense of belonging was also challenged.  Perhaps it was the anti-malarial medication as my experience completely changed once I stopped it (after the withdrawal effects of crying daily 3 weeks, of that is).   However the welcoming from Neema and Dr. Mwampambe overtly opposed my fears.  Over the year I became aware of a rebuilding taking place until one day I was struck by the feeling of my feet on the ground and feeling embodied again.   How have I changed?  That remains to be seen.

After all my travelling and experiences in other countries and cultures, I found East Africa to be the most dramatically different.  Perhaps it was the rawness and tribal acculturation.  I kept looking for the common ground from where to relate to the customs and behaviours.  If familiar ways did exist, they had been layered on top of the people’s true way of being, like a thin opaque sugar glaze on a rich chocolate cake.  These affectations held little substance, although at times they softened the experience for me, and wore off quickly with the passing of time.

 One example might be the experience of time.  Someone told me that ‘Mzungus’ have watches and the Africans have time.  You can imagine how many opportunities there might have been for me to come up against this varying perception of time.  Meetings might be scheduled, and I would feel like we were getting the ‘work’ done, a sweet topping coating my experience.  But at the appointed time or day of the meeting, it would not unfold as I had imagined.  Sometimes it turned into weeks before we met and the actual exchange of ideas unfolded.  There are many lessons I have brought back.  I re-learned some time honoured dictums: the value of simple physical hard work...like that done by Kulwa, the girl who cleaned my house and washed my clothes by hand, weekly in the Fall when I lived with Fran, and also when I lived at the school; many hands make light work; and mothers and kitchens are where the heart is.

I found challenges around time, lack of personal space (physical and auditory), hygiene in public places, and lack of variety in nutrition, power outages, water limitations, insect born illnesses, foreign bacteria attacking my vulnerable immune system, months of cold bucket baths with salty water, unreliable communication systems .  One gets used to certain things in life, but it doesn’t mean we like it.  Will I miss all that?  No, but would I have missed this experience? No, not on your (my) life. 

So what will I miss?  The long walks through the chambas (garden plots), the red dusty earth, the big sky above, the colourful birds and their unique songs, the friendly ‘shikamoo’ from the locals, the sound of four part harmony wafting from the churches on Sundays, the Sega girls laughter and singing, and the bright colours of the traditional dress (only worn by the women these days and even that is fading out with the advent of flee-markets touting western leftovers for pennies).  I will miss the simple cellular texts I received from so many people (like Geoffrey, Alex, Oscar, Michael, Elena, Naomi and Paulina to name but a few) when I was ill with Malaria, Pneumonia and then Amoebic dysentery (x3 before the proper diagnosis and treatment)... all wishing me blessings and a quick recovery.  Although I was out of sight, sometimes in Dar seeking medical attention or travelling for work, I was never forgotten by my friends and colleagues.   I guess I will miss the feeling of being an important part of a community/family which grew during my time at the girl’s school.

 

 

As for my own community and family in Canada, I am spending most of the month of August visiting those important beings.  Please know that if I haven’t visited or seen you yet, you are still important and I am very much looking forward to our connection in the near future.  Gratitude to all of you who supported me via donations to CUSO, emails, letters, playing online Scrabble or simply thinking of me at times.  The last and most important thing I learned was that I am cared for and connected very deeply to a bunch of unique people all around the world.

A Maasai Change Agent

Simon Alacara is a 30 year old Maasai.  He is therefore in the ‘warrior’ age group.  This is the group who have the majority of the power and are held in high esteem amongst his people.  In not too many years from now, he will be ‘demoted’ to allow for the next group of young men to take over.  He is working hard to improve the life of his people through his own education.  He has a BA from Tumaini University in Iringa and works for a local NGO (based out of Arusha). 

At age 27 Simon married a 20 year old woman.  She too is educated (BA) and works in Rehabilitation for disabled children.  They have two children, a 3 year daughter and 2 month old son who was born prematurely.  His wife is on maternity leave at present.  Simon is ready to take another wife at this point in his life.  He says his wife concurs as in spite of both being educated, they are familiar with this custom and serves a purpose.  He says his next wife might be 15. 

The reason behind having more than wife, he explains, is to have more children.  The more cattle you have (wealth), the more children you need to take care of them. Most women only have 2-3 children.  Simon says that although some men ‘brand’ their cattle, its not necessary as the boys know each one by face.  If one cow in a herd of 1,000 goes missing, the young herder knows exactly which one it is.  He follows this up to say, although they aren’t educated by our standards, they are very smart.  When I go walking in the fields around Sega I often come across a boy and his cattle.  Nine times out of ten he will be listening to music on his cell phone.

In the meantime, Simon is working with an NGO in aid of a tribe of bushmen in the region called the Akie.  The Maasai word for these people means ‘those who have nothing’.  The nomadic tribe is dwindling, only 400 people left, as their hunting and gathering lands also dwindle due to ‘squatter farmers’.  The current approach he is taking is to take the kids and force them into school.  He notes that they often run-away and can live quite easily in the bush, which is a problem.  It echoes of the Residential School policies in many countries, including our shameful history.  We didn’t have time to discuss the incongruence with these people and the Maasai boma we had visited where the children don’t go to school and there is no health care beyond the traditional.  He also didn’t seem to have a problem with grabbing these children against their will, but would says he would never agree to such practises for his own people.  I’m sure some of his position was lost for me in translation.  If you want to know more, he is on Facebook or you can email him. 

Simon is a very caring and somewhat charismatic person, a visionary who plans to complete an MA and PhD.  One focus for his BA research was in Female Genital Mutilation practises amongst the Maasai.  He wanted to know what meaning it held traditionally and currently so that he can work with them to abolish this outdated custom.  After finishing his higher education, Simon plans to return to live at his ancestral boma and gather wealth (wives, children and cattle which have a specific relationship).  He believes from that position of status, he will be able to affect change.  Having heard his (unusal) critical thinking and clear cut plans for his future, I believe he will be a change agent.

 

An Invitiation of Honour

While in Kabaya, thanks to Doug’s friendship with Simon, we were invited to attend a Maasai Ceremony at a nearby boma.  Simon had arranged for a mini-bus to collect the 6 of us (including Susan and Jim, fellow VSO vols, and their adult daughter and BF who were visiting).  He told us ahead of time what to bring in the way of gifts (A kilo of sugar for the 4-5 mamas who would prepare the tea for us; candies for the children; and a winter-heavy Maasai blanket for the head man).  At the hour of departure, we were all very excited and all set to go when we asked what the ceremony was celebrating.  “Circumcision” was the answer.  We all gulped and smiled.  Then I asked, is this male or female?  With great confusion and strong feelings, we learned it was for a male and a female.  The next 20 minutes was fraught with tension while we tried to decide what to do...refuse to go and insult the tribe leading to less hope for affecting change in the future...or go along possibly giving the message we condone this practise (when we don’t).  In the end, Simon (an educated Maasai from another tribe) came to our rescue by discussing it openly with us.  He doesn’t agree with the practise but realizes change must come slowly and from having positive relationships with the tribe.  He allowed us to make our own decision, noting that the actual circumcision is typically done at 6 am or even weeks or months before, and this is a ‘coming of age’ ceremony for the two teens.  In the end, we all went on the hour long ride to the boma laden with our gifts and cameras (Maasai people in TZ typically love getting their picture taken).

As we arrived we learned that in Kismaasai,  ‘boma’ is the word for a corral for cattle, a hut shared by people and animals, and the grouping of 3-4 huts.  Off in the distance we could see other small groupings of huts belonging to other clans within the larger tribe.  All the young men of the ‘warrior’ age grouping attended the ceremony, and the younger girls associated with them (perhaps promised in marriage once they come of age) from all the neighbouring bomas.  A few older women in the host boma made us tea and later rice for our meal.  The older men, women with their babies, and a gaggle of children hung around waiting for the activities to begin.  The rest of the young women were beautifully dressed and beaded for the dancing, singing and ceremonial activities. 

I was somewhat concerned that we 6 ‘Mzungus’ would become the focus of the celebration...a friend said she was treated with more importance than the bride at a wedding she once attended.  Even though these people rarely see foreigners, and the children do not attend school, we were relieved to be treated in a very nonchelant way.  We were obviously welcome and seen as an addition to the festivities, but also allowed to fade into the background (except of course for the line of kids following us and the candy bag) as we were guided to various parts of the ceremony by Simon. 

 

Besides the dancing and singing we were treated to Chai (tea) and later to a meal.  These Maasai base their wealth on the number of cows/cattle they own.  They subsist on milk and meat with the odd herbal plants for healing.  An example of this is how they take the knobby growths from a specific tree, grind and burn the wood, then place the ash in a calabash.  The next day they ‘sweep’ out the calabash and put in the raw milk.  This process pasteurizes the milk and the sweet milky tea we were served had a very unique rich earthy flavour.  The leaves of this same tree are also used as medicine to treat dysentery

 

 

 Interspersed with the Chai and the later meal, we watched the women dance and sing (and participated as best we could as this is an honour), watched the warriors parade in, and then the young men grunted and danced for hours.  We were escorted to the tree where the elders gather and sit with a representative of the male who is coming of age.  We went to the girl’s hut where she is kept sequestered for the day and witnessed the placement of various symbols at her door (e.g. a tall thin tree, the calabash from which the milk came to bless the warriors as they arrived). 

The meal was a bull which had been slaughtered and roasted over a fire that morning.  Bits of the animal were hung in the nearby trees.  You might be able to identify the ‘bit’ in the picture below...and it’s not what you think.  On this day the meat was not to be seen by any of the women (Mzungu women are an exception).    We were taken out to a spot under a tree, a distance from the activities.  As we struggled with finding comfort on the ground, it didn’t take long before they realized we would need seats so they slowly scouted out some bigger logs or upturned plastic pails to sit upon.  The meat was brought on a stick, long thick strips of cooked beef.  I think Simon saw our faces as we tried to mask our surprise, and hence asked if we would like some Pilau (Tanzanian spiced rice) with the meat.  When we jumped at the suggestion, they brought 2 gigantic pots of rice.  We were given chunks of grizzly meat to chew and took handfuls of the rice to wash it down.  After my jaws adjusted, I got rather good at chewing the meat, and the stray dog sitting a short distance behind me surreptitiously helped with the bits I couldn’t manage.  Each time I finished chewing, another piece was quickly carved off with the knife.  After we were finished we could see other small groupings out across the landscape gathering to eat.  Each age group eats separately and the women ate meat which they had prepared for themselves.  One of the strict Maasai rules is that no-one eats alone (this guards against ‘have’s and have nots’, especially amongst the warrior group who traditionally did the hunting and slaughtering). 

 

 

Lastly,  we were taken to see one of the family bomas, and were offered to lie down and rest if we wished.  The boma is a square mud and stick hut with a small elbowed entranceway, a space for the goat or a cow, which then opens into a small circular room.  There was a small fire glowing in the middle.  After our eyes slowly adjusted to the very dim light, we were invited to sit on the two sleeping areas.  Large pieces of hide were stretched out and on top we could see a mess of blankets and some extra clothing.  Apparently the mother and girls sleep on one and the boys and dad on the other.  There are no toilet facilities and the water for Chai is hauled a long distance so used sparingly.

Many hours later, our day came to an end, leaving the men to dance and the festivities to continue well into the night.  Unfortunately my camera battery died and so it is not possible to show how their jumping had gotten higher and their singing became louder as the adrenalin of prolonged activity joined with the testosterone of their age.  The last thing we watched was an ‘enactment’ where the young men jump forward towards the girls, then the girls come forward and pick a man.  The girls, obviously very shy and hesitant, tended to follow one another.  Everyone laughed as only two of the men were picked out of the entire group. 

 

 

 

(Darn, the videos won't upload...check in again in the near future).

 

 

 

 

 

Peace Corps at its Finest

At 66 Doug Angell is representative of about 5% of the Peace Corps volunteers in Tanzania.  Primarily attracted by the newly graduated youth there has always been a small number of middle-aged and seniors for e.g. Jimmy Carter’s mother volunteered in her 80’s.  Peace Volunteers do not live an easy life as the premise besides direct service delivery, is living in the community and blending into said community by a common lifestyle. 

Doug, a Shop Teacher by trade, is teaching Secondary School children Math and Chemistry to help with the big shortage of Science teachers.  His teaching load is much heavier than most, if not all his colleagues partly due to the shortage and partly due to the fact that he can and will do it. Doug tries to set an example for his fellow teachers and students in terms of self-respect (work ethic) and respect for the students (no corporal punishment, offering extra tuition, caring about each and every student’s progress).  He occasionally expresses his differing views to the teachers but mostly he lets his actions to do the teaching. 

Doug lives in a small town several hours north of Dodoma and due south of Arusha.  The town of Kibaya is in the Kiteto District of Manyara Region, on the edge of the Maasai Steppe.  Being at 5,000 Feet Kibaya is nestled between rolling hills and several small mountains.  Thanks to this elevation, the views of the Steppes are wonderful and the temperatures are currently downright cool in the night and morning.  Besides the 45 walk minute into to town (containing the market, dairy and a variety of small Dukas), Doug hikes the hills with his VSO friends.  

Doug believes he has  ‘safi’ housing (Swahili word for clean but used to mean nicer, or Mzungu-style, or ‘cool’).  This, because his house has two bedrooms, living/dining space, a small fridge, gas cooking burners and cement floors.  I liken his life-style to ‘one up from camping’ with no running water the ‘Choo’ (bathroom), cement shelter for bucket bathing, and kitchen clean-up are all outside.  Doug hauls water in 20 litre buckets from the local ‘bomba’ or community tap, which luckily is just outside his walled compound.  His role-model is the 10year old girl who carries such buckets of water on her head!  The water is stored in numerous buckets and other large plastic containers to ensure he is never without...there was a 10 day dry period earlier this year so he keeps it well stocked.  All this sounds pretty good, but remember this is brackish water which is only used for cleaning purposes.  Drinking water needs to be boiled before drinking (if you don’t mind the salty flavour) or purchased in large bottles in town.  Doug buys his milk from the local Dairy (one large room with a can of fresh milk).  He must boil this to pasteurize and use it up fairly quickly, which means regular 1.5 hr walks to the Dairy and back.

 

Doug has always told his students that “we take from our community all our lives, it therefore behooves us to give back when and where we can”.    It was this philosophy that led him to sign up for Peace Corps.  That and having read Greg Mortonson’s books (including Three Cups of Tea), he decided it was time to give back.  A divorced father of two adult children, and a senior-US- citizen, could easily be ready to retire.  But not so Doug.   His joie de vivre and future plans definitely belie his age.  Doug attributes his philosophy of life to several things, including having had many mentors over the years, and even in the present. 

Two life-changing experiences helped to form who he is now.   At 21 one Doug served in Vietnam for 3 years.  This left him with many changed attitudes and views about violence and humanity.  He recalls never having felt such fear before or since that war experience.  In the early 70’s Doug and his wife took Transcendental Meditation (TM) and various relaxation techniques, to help cope more easily with daily life.  Doug is an atheist but has read many of the texts from different religions, and eventually came to his own awakening/knowing.

After 35 years of PTSD symptoms, primarily in the form of suppressed and bottled-up anger, Doug had an Epiphany.  Doug takes a yearly vacation at a Horse Ranch in the Interior of BC.  One day, deep in experience of freedom and one-ness with the horse and the majestic surroundings, he felt his anger release.  A subtle change on the outside, perhaps, he is much happier and finding it easier to ‘go with the flow of the river’, which serves him well while working and living in such a different culture.

Doug speaks of the personal changes that are unfolding partially with an air of the unknown.  He guesses that many of the changes won’t be made evident to him until after he returns home.    But he is aware of a deeper appreciation of the culture differences.  He is studying hard to learn his Swahili and allowing his students to help teach him.  Doug mentioned briefly that he might be ‘putting off’ finding another life-partner, but he is clear the relationship will be one of depth, and the language barrier precludes him finding another soul-mate here.  In the meantime he is deeply valuing and enjoying the relationships he has made here, in particular with Simon, the Maasai young man and Samson, the 28 y.o. Tanzanian teacher at his school.  It seems that Doug is receiving as much as he is giving in this ‘2 year vacation’ as he terms this experience. 

 

More People

Melissa Ramos is a 29 year old Paraguayan, who has been working in Morogoro for 1 year (in fact the very day of our interview was her first anniversary as a Tanzanian resident).  Originally a language teacher, Melissa “grew tired of watching people who were not interested in helping the poor or children, make all the decisions and guidelines.  She went back to school and received her Masters in Education and Development”. 

Melissa found a job with Fundacion Paraguaya (one of Sega’s partners).  She was initially a Pedagogical Advisor in Paraguay.  One day this project came along in FP to take its message/programs to Tanzania.  Having many African friends and an adventurous spirit, Melissa jumped at the chance.  She says that Paraguayans are typically ‘homebodies’ and only leave their regions, let alone country, under financial pressure.  Unfortunately this has been happening a lot lately due to high levels of debt caused by the economic times in that South  American country.

 

Melissa’s job here is to set-up and co-ordinate Business Clubs in secondary schools (12 public and 5 private at present).  She also coordinates Entrepreneurial Programs for schools like Sega (to be become more self-sufficient while the students experience hands-on-experience in running a business).  At Sega it is currently an egg business (2,000 chickens and in the process of building more houses to double that number).  FP teaches the girls how to raise healthy chickens, housing, vaccination and other hygiene procedures, and feeding. The girls also collect the thousands of eggs to deliver to their various restaurants, dukas (small shops) and hotels around town.  Every once in awhile they are taken into town to sell flats of eggs (30 per flat) and try and get new customers.

Melissa discovered that the rural situation in TZ is not dissimilar to the needs of the rural Paraguayans which helped her to relate.  She did discover though, that relationships are extremely important here.  Nothing will move forward without time and a trusting relationship.  She says she had always thought herself to be a patient person but this too has been an education in personal growth.  Melissa has also gained a love for the variety of spices (Massala) found in the market and used at the Indian restaurants.  As for the Tanzanian fare, she didn’t have a comment except her wonderful laugh. Gracias Melissa.

People I met in Tanzania....I thought it might be of interest to some people to hear about the Tanzanians who I have had come to know. 

I met Neema at my first placement in Morogoro.  You may recall she offered to help me with my housing issues and told me her name meant ‘Grace’, and she is aptly named.  Ney is 35 years old.  Immediately after her marriage she went to Holland to complete her Master’s in Public Admin.  Tumiani, her husband, visited a few times but it was a long and adventurous 2 years for an African girl.  Since then they have had two boys, Elija (pronounced e-lee-ah) and Alisha (just born at Easter).  The couple had to relocate to Dar for the final gestational month and delivery in order to ensure a safe birth even though she was not high risk.  She told me her decision was based on the fact that 5 of her friends (similar age and education/financial class) lost babies at birth in Morogoro. 

The house they rent in Morogoro is kept unoccupied for when they return plus they now rent a large apartment in Dar too.  They will stay in Dar until Ney returns to work because Thumiani is self-employed in Dar and usually commutes on w/e to Morogoro.   A smart business man he runs a car import business and has several other businesses in the developmental phase (e.g. chicken feed in Morogoro).  Ney’s parents were farmers with limited education but held a strong belief about its importance for their children.  Thumiani’s parents are both professors at the Agricultural University in Morogoro and were both associated with the university system in the Netherlands.

In Ney’s home you will find a fridge in the living room (only used for drinks), a microwave, a washing machine and dryer (none used) a huge stereo system and flat screen TV (used a lot by Thumiani), a leather couch and chair,  and modern glass tables.  There is nothing on the walls and the wall unit is empty except for photo-albums of their wedding.  There are 2 ‘maids’ to help with the 2 kids as Ney will be working again.  This is a common situation for those with money and one woman told me her maid has a maid. 

Family is the couple’s biggest focus outside of earning a living.  Entertainment or activities outside of work involves visiting family members, or more recently others visiting the young family (a constant stream with her mother and parents-in-law staying each for 3 weeks).  Sometimes on weekends, before the birth of Alisha, Thumiani would drive Ney and Elijah to Moshi (10 hour drive) so Ney could visit with her mother.  Thumiani would turn around and drive back on the Sunday only to return the following w/e and pick them up.  Ney would have visited various family members in the region during that week.  There are buses that run that same route but Elijah has not been exposed to the ‘germs of others’ and so Thumaini forbids the use of the bus at this point.  Much more comfortable travel for Ney but a lot of dangerous and arduous driving for a devoted husbanded and father,  not to mention the cost of petrol.  The gas costs are comparable to Canadian prices for a population that earns $45/month on average.  Of course that includes millions at the subsistence level and Ney and Thumiani are in the tiny middle class, with higher education and all that affords.  None-the-less owning and running a vehicle is very costly here.

When I visit Ney, I am always given a meal.  I have learned to bring small gifts in thanks and we go out together for meals and visits when we can (at least before Alisha was born).  Last time she provided rice, chips, beans, mchicha (a type of spinach), okra, Ugali, and King Fish.  The fish was cut in huge steaks and was fresh from the Dar market the day before (one of Ney’s first outings with Thumiani since her delivery in April).  As usual, it is plain fare, no spices except salt, but very fresh and delicious.  Even though I have moved around here in Tanzania, Ney has always stayed in touch via texting, email or calling.  I feel blessed to have gotten to know her and her family.

 

Aida was married young, with limited education and immediately bore a son.  One day her husband met a sophisticated woman and the two of them were speaking English together, leaving Aida out.  As they walked she gradually fell more and more behind until she could escape home.  At home she cried and was angry.  When her husband returned home and asked what happened she simply said she didn’t want to get in the way of their conversation.  For the next 6 months Aida studied English, in any way she could find.  One day her husband met the woman again but this time she surprised them both and participated in the conversation.  You see, rather than being jealous or angry at either of them, Aida had realized that the problem lay in herself.  She vowed determinedly never to let anyone or any situation make her feel small again.

That was the beginning of many changes in Aida’s life.  Now, she is divorced and living as a single-parent which is highly unusual in her small Muslim community.  A talented artist, she runs her own business designing clothing for foreigners to be made of the brightly coloured African cloth (Kangas and Kitangas).  The production of the clothing as well as embroidered and quilted pillow covers and bags, is all done by a group of women who work with Aida in a co-op.  She tells me that she is still a shy person by nature and finds she must push herself to be ‘out in the world’ but she has never gone back on her word to herself.

 

 

 

I asked if I could interview Hilda and she preferred to write this ‘bio’ herself.  This is what she wanted to share with my friends and family back home:

My name is Hilda Charles Lurinzu.  I finished my O-level (Cdn equivalent of Gr. 10...brackets Peggy) education in 1991.  My very first intention was to become a nun (sister).

 

In 1992 I joined Benedictines sisters of Tutzing, this is a Religious Constitution which is found in Songea, Southern parts of Tanzania.  I stayed there till 2002, from there I decided to drop out to live another style of life.

In 2003 I joined Form 5 as a Private Candidate, I studied HGL, meaning History, Geography and English as my Form 5 subject courses.

In 2005 I sat for my A-level (Cdn gr. 12) exam and when the results came out, I passed with good grades which enabled me to join University.

Beside that I’m a mother of two children all are boys.  The first born is called Felix who is now five years old.  And is learning at Carmel Kindergarten (a religious funded private school emphasizing education in English...PF).  Brian is my second son is still breasting is now 1 year and 2 months.

Now I’m a teacher teaching at Sega girls Secondary School, the school is at Morogoro region in Tanzania.  I started working this year.  I teach literature From IV (Cdn gr. 10...PF), history Form III (Cdn gr. 9...PF) and I (Cdn gr. 7...PF), also non-formal (Girls who haven’t passed exam to enter secondary school yet...PF) History.

PF:  What I would add is that Hilda is one of those consistently bright and cheery people, very attentive to others, and obviously caring.  She chats a lot with the other teachers sharing stories 1 on 1 which always involves rounds of laughter.  Hilda runs one of the two Music Clubs, bringing along her wonderful knowledge of harmony learned at her church choir.  What I find especially appealing about her,  is how lovely she appears, always looking professional and beautifully dressed!  Hilda is a wonderful addition to the lives of the Sega girls and the staff she works with. 

 

 

 

Amaas had very limited English to go with my very limited Swahili.  What I do know is that he did not complete secondary school and needed to go out to work to help support his mother and younger siblings.  His father is not around.  He does ‘petty’ work, mostly labour and working on farm plots for others, harvesting etc..  Sega has hired him to help with the creation of ‘organic farming’ plots.  An NGO is sponsoring the creation and running of 28 bed for education purposes and production of new and different greens and herbs.  It’s amazing to me how we have managed to mess things up so much that a nation who has lived on subsistence farming for eons, has to learn how to use ‘organic farming methods’ all over again.  Amaas dug these 28 plots to a depth of about 5 feet...could barely see his hat above ground...then mixed straw and soil to refill the beds.  The beds are located a short distance from my house and when he’s working I can hear a constant singing and often ‘rapping’ to his favourite Bonga Flava tunes.