the wanderer
Friday, March 17, 2006
Time to Start Looking Ahead
We got the results of the survey back yesterday in a rather impressive report, complete with numerous charts and a topographic map of the area. The best spot for a well is very close to half the bomas, a 5 minute walk at most. The bad news is that it’s 110 meters deep, which makes choosing the ideal type of pump all the more difficult. Mr. Mtoi suggested that a hand pump would be the best option, although I know most hand pumps don’t go that deep (I know some exist, but they may be difficult to find). He believes we could achieve a water flow of 2 cubic meters per hour, which would be enough to accommodate Alasai village, at least in the beginning.
Now that we have the technical aspects taken care of, the hard work begins. How can we make sure that the entire community uses this precious water to help each other thrive, and not to start territorial disputes? How do we choose which villagers will be made responsible for maintenance and administration? How do we get them to understand basic principles of sanitation, to ensure that the water isn’t contaminated by livestock or human carelessness?
We have to figure out a way to make them feel like they own the well. I’m worried that they’ll treat this as some gift that just fell out of the sky, and that they’ll hold us responsible for any problems that might occur. Obviously they can’t pay for it themselves, so we need a more creative solution.
Last night at Deo’s the engineer told us about how, years ago in Ontario, the city would often get complaints from citizens whose wells had been contaminated by the salt used to de-ice city streets. The city’s policy back then was “We contaminated your well, so we’ll build you a new one”. When, down the line, there were problems with the city-installed wells, citizens would call to complain, saying “Your well broke, come and fix it!” It’s much easier to disown a broken well than to try and fix it yourself, and this may be the tallest hurdle we’re facing with the Maasai.
Hopefully I can get a meeting with Engineers Without Borders when I’m in Montreal next week. I’d like to get them to take on this project but, if they can’t, I want to at least pick their brains as much as I can for answers to all our questions. I’m sure similar problems arise in all their projects.
Otherwise, we’re getting ready to go back home. I can tell my mom is having a hard time getting used to the idea of leaving again, and I feel sad for her. At least this time she has concrete plans to come back in a couple of months, and a house in which to live when she does. For me it’s sad too, but I have a husband at home that I miss terribly, friends that I want to see, work that I want to do.
I do intend to return, maybe next year, maybe sooner. The hardest part about leaving is knowing that there’s so much work left to do here, and so many things, always, to take care of… A lot of things at home will feel inconsequential now. I hope I can turn that feeling into a reminder to channel my energy toward better endeavors.
I went back to see Agnes yesterday, to say goodbye to that sweet girl that took a piece of my heart and won’t give it back. Some CCS volunteers were going to Light in Africa for a couple of hours and I tagged along with them. They all, in turn, fell in love with her too. How could you not, with this face?
She was in a delightful mood: nothing but dimpled smiles, beauty queen waves to everybody, and lots of giggly chattering to the tune of “dadadadadada”. We played with the kids for over an hour, sang them some Broadway hits and a Sound of Music medley, and showered them with tickles and kisses until it was time to leave.
This time Aggie didn’t cry at all when I put her down. Instead, she smiled, got on all fours and started following me out the door… Such a little heartbreaker.
¶ 3/17/2006 02:48:00 AM 1 comments
Now that we have the technical aspects taken care of, the hard work begins. How can we make sure that the entire community uses this precious water to help each other thrive, and not to start territorial disputes? How do we choose which villagers will be made responsible for maintenance and administration? How do we get them to understand basic principles of sanitation, to ensure that the water isn’t contaminated by livestock or human carelessness?
We have to figure out a way to make them feel like they own the well. I’m worried that they’ll treat this as some gift that just fell out of the sky, and that they’ll hold us responsible for any problems that might occur. Obviously they can’t pay for it themselves, so we need a more creative solution.
Last night at Deo’s the engineer told us about how, years ago in Ontario, the city would often get complaints from citizens whose wells had been contaminated by the salt used to de-ice city streets. The city’s policy back then was “We contaminated your well, so we’ll build you a new one”. When, down the line, there were problems with the city-installed wells, citizens would call to complain, saying “Your well broke, come and fix it!” It’s much easier to disown a broken well than to try and fix it yourself, and this may be the tallest hurdle we’re facing with the Maasai.
Hopefully I can get a meeting with Engineers Without Borders when I’m in Montreal next week. I’d like to get them to take on this project but, if they can’t, I want to at least pick their brains as much as I can for answers to all our questions. I’m sure similar problems arise in all their projects.
Otherwise, we’re getting ready to go back home. I can tell my mom is having a hard time getting used to the idea of leaving again, and I feel sad for her. At least this time she has concrete plans to come back in a couple of months, and a house in which to live when she does. For me it’s sad too, but I have a husband at home that I miss terribly, friends that I want to see, work that I want to do.
I do intend to return, maybe next year, maybe sooner. The hardest part about leaving is knowing that there’s so much work left to do here, and so many things, always, to take care of… A lot of things at home will feel inconsequential now. I hope I can turn that feeling into a reminder to channel my energy toward better endeavors.
I went back to see Agnes yesterday, to say goodbye to that sweet girl that took a piece of my heart and won’t give it back. Some CCS volunteers were going to Light in Africa for a couple of hours and I tagged along with them. They all, in turn, fell in love with her too. How could you not, with this face?
She was in a delightful mood: nothing but dimpled smiles, beauty queen waves to everybody, and lots of giggly chattering to the tune of “dadadadadada”. We played with the kids for over an hour, sang them some Broadway hits and a Sound of Music medley, and showered them with tickles and kisses until it was time to leave.
This time Aggie didn’t cry at all when I put her down. Instead, she smiled, got on all fours and started following me out the door… Such a little heartbreaker.
This afternoon we're getting the last of our souvenir shopping done and then going by Amani to check on Yusuf and Luca - we told them we'd come & see them again before we left for home and I want to keep that promise. Tomorrow the Amani kids are being taken on a big picnic outside of Arusha, which a couple who's vacationing here offered to pay for. We were invited to join, but I think we'll stay in town instead. The President is giving a speech at a local college tomorrow and I'd like to be here for that.
Only 2 more days to go...
¶ 3/17/2006 02:48:00 AM 1 comments
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Let the Rains Begin!
After posting yesterday we returned to Amani to say hi to Neema and check in on the two boys we bought home from Arusha on Saturday. We had quite a few things left to donate, and brought them all with us. Our luggage will really be light on the way home - I even gave away my running shoes (I have sneakers and flip flops left) and most of the shirts I've been weaing here. Feels nice to have so little to pack up now.
Anyway, Yusuf and Luka (pictured here with my mom, Luka is on the left) were delighted to see us, and I had a blast while one young girl with lots of attitude pulled up my shirt sleeves to see my tattoos. She obviously was fascinated, and called over her friends to see me. I was tickled to notice that she had written and drawn all over her hands with pens. Maybe she'll grow up to get a bodysuit?
We shook hands with these two, who promised they wouldn't run away from Amani. I hope they keep their word.
Took Anthony, Neema, and Solomon out to dinner afterwards at a mzungu restaurant called Indoitaliano. I like the food there - their Aloo Gobi is disappointing but everything else I've had is good. I like a place where you can get both Dal Makhani and pizza. There's lots of this here.
The food was delicious. At least we thought so... Poor Solomon, who was disappointed with his small portion, said, "You know, this is like giving an elephant chewing gum". He wolfed his food down, went across the street to get some quick local food, and came back to join us. Needless to say, we all had a good laugh.
Great conversation throughout the meal, probably the most interesting topics I've heard discussed since I've been here. We talked about domestic violence and cultural differences between Tanzania and the rest of the world, about children, life and luck (bahati, in Swahili).
Just as we wrapped up our meal a torrential downpour began, complete with booming thunder and surprisingly bright bursts of lighting. People from the terrace ran inside for shelter and many of us watched the storm grow vicious outside, awestruck. Soon the water started creeping into the restaurant, to the amusement of most of the patrons.
The power cut out for a few minutes, so those of us with flashlights (they're essential here!) broke them out and helped some of the restaurant's staff make their way to the front of the restaurant with boards and some random objects, to try and keep the water out. Within five minutes, it was almost 2 inches deep. We rolled up our pants and waited for our taxi... I wasn't sure he'd make it at all!
But he did, eventually, and we raced outside into the storm. Anthony gave my mom a piggy-back ride (which provoked howls of laughter from everyone in the restaurant!) and although we were out in the rain for no more than 10 seconds, we were completely drenched. The taxi waded slowly over to our house, which thankfully is up on a hill and wasn't flooded, and the storm stopped moments after we got in the door.
I have to say, it was a really, really fun night. Now if trying to figure out Tanzanian residence permit requirements for my mom was even half that fun, we'd be in business! ¶ 3/14/2006 05:22:00 AM 1 comments
Anyway, Yusuf and Luka (pictured here with my mom, Luka is on the left) were delighted to see us, and I had a blast while one young girl with lots of attitude pulled up my shirt sleeves to see my tattoos. She obviously was fascinated, and called over her friends to see me. I was tickled to notice that she had written and drawn all over her hands with pens. Maybe she'll grow up to get a bodysuit?We shook hands with these two, who promised they wouldn't run away from Amani. I hope they keep their word.
Took Anthony, Neema, and Solomon out to dinner afterwards at a mzungu restaurant called Indoitaliano. I like the food there - their Aloo Gobi is disappointing but everything else I've had is good. I like a place where you can get both Dal Makhani and pizza. There's lots of this here.
The food was delicious. At least we thought so... Poor Solomon, who was disappointed with his small portion, said, "You know, this is like giving an elephant chewing gum". He wolfed his food down, went across the street to get some quick local food, and came back to join us. Needless to say, we all had a good laugh.
Great conversation throughout the meal, probably the most interesting topics I've heard discussed since I've been here. We talked about domestic violence and cultural differences between Tanzania and the rest of the world, about children, life and luck (bahati, in Swahili).
Just as we wrapped up our meal a torrential downpour began, complete with booming thunder and surprisingly bright bursts of lighting. People from the terrace ran inside for shelter and many of us watched the storm grow vicious outside, awestruck. Soon the water started creeping into the restaurant, to the amusement of most of the patrons.The power cut out for a few minutes, so those of us with flashlights (they're essential here!) broke them out and helped some of the restaurant's staff make their way to the front of the restaurant with boards and some random objects, to try and keep the water out. Within five minutes, it was almost 2 inches deep. We rolled up our pants and waited for our taxi... I wasn't sure he'd make it at all!
But he did, eventually, and we raced outside into the storm. Anthony gave my mom a piggy-back ride (which provoked howls of laughter from everyone in the restaurant!) and although we were out in the rain for no more than 10 seconds, we were completely drenched. The taxi waded slowly over to our house, which thankfully is up on a hill and wasn't flooded, and the storm stopped moments after we got in the door.I have to say, it was a really, really fun night. Now if trying to figure out Tanzanian residence permit requirements for my mom was even half that fun, we'd be in business! ¶ 3/14/2006 05:22:00 AM 1 comments
Monday, March 13, 2006
Survey Weekend
Saturday’s survey at Alasai, the Maasai village, went just about as planned. Our driver showed up an hour late (which, in African time, is pretty much on time), we went over to meet the surveyors at their office, and all got on the road. When we stopped in Arusha for a few minutes we told the surveyors to go ahead without us, so of course by the time we got to the village they were nowhere to be found. My mom and I stayed behind with Mama Paolo and the babies while the guys and Neema, who came along for the day, went driving around to find our surveyors. About an hour later everyone came back, and the survey got started.
Now I don’t know much about engineering, but I bet that most engineers back home would be impressed by how these guys work with relatively low-tech gear. They had wires rolled up into baskets and a machine that looked like it came out of an old space exploration movie.
Once they got their equipment out they walked across the center of the crater around which the village is located, with a device that measures magnetic force, and found four spots which had very low magnetism, which they marked using a handheld GPS. Low magnetism usually points to water, so out of four spots they were confident they could find a couple of potential well locations.
They went back to those spots with more gadgets to measure soil humidity and write down countless figures, which they’ll use back at the office to figure out how deep the water is and how much of it we’ll be able to tap into.
It was fun to watch a group of children and young men follow their every step with tremendous curiosity!
The chief surveyor Mr. Mtoi, a kind and patient man who seemed to enjoy his work very much, did his best to explain what they were doing and how everything worked. I couldn’t begin to explain it all myself, and I didn’t want to pester him too much with my questions, but I’m quite confident that they’re good at what they do and that by the time we get their written report back we’ll be looking at some good news. So for now, please excuse my brief (and probably confused) attempts at explaining the techinical aspects! It's the best I can do.
Naishiye, Mama Paolo’s daughter, who gave me earrings last time, made me a bracelet like my mother’s with my name on it. I gave them an English dictionary of mine last time we visited the village and Paolo (Naishiye's brother) found my name in it, which I had written inside the cover back in the fifth grade. She spelled it “Oliva” instead of “Olivia” anyway, but I couldn’t care less. It’s beautiful, and fits like a charm.
A while back I posted in my blog about my first visit to the Maasai village, and I spoke of how thrilled I was with being given earrings. I received a few comments, via the blog or personal e-mails, from people telling me how great it was that I could be made happy with such simple things. I’ve been thinking about that ever since, and while I understand the spirit of those comments, I do have one little thing to rectify. It’s not just simple things that make me happy, it’s the fact that I’ve been given such precious gifts by people who have so very little to give – people I’ve always admired from a distance, and admire even more now that I’ve been welcomed into their homes. It swells the heart.
On the way home from the village we stopped at a really nice café called Via Via in Arusha. We had some coffee, talked, laughed and relaxed. Now that the survey is done it feels like the wheels of progress are turning on this project, which now has the name of “Alasai Water Project”. We can move on to funding, educating the village about well management, maintenance and hygiene, and once the rain season is over we can start digging right away.
While we were having coffee with Anthony at Via Via, Neema and Solomon went for a walk with our driver. Neema is now traveling to Arusha a few times a week to pick up some street kids and bring them to Amani Children’s home. It’s rough work. While they were walking she spotted two boys, one 11 and one 13 or 14, who had run away from Amani late last summer. Neema told us that a lot of the kids who leave the home can’t find a ride to Arusha so they walk the 70 km, a dangerous two day journey, to get there. Life at Amani can be challenging, but I’m sure it beats life on the streets of Arusha.
She and Solomon went over to talk to them and see how they were doing. They were sniffing glue, which most street kids do because it numbs their appetite (and glue is cheaper than food), and the older boy had developed a lung infection. They asked Neema if they could come back to Moshi with her, they said they were tired of the street and wanted to return to Amani. Solomon and Neema made them throw out their glue and they walked them back to Via Via, just as we were on our way back to the car.
We took them with us in the Land Cruiser. Yusef, the 11 year old, and Luke, the 13 year old, were exhausted. My mom had a few peanut butter cookies (which she’d bought for the Maasai kids to eat) left in her purse, and they wolfed them down with a couple of cans of soda we had left in the car.
On the ride back to Moshi we played music and danced in our seats. We acted like clowns and the boys laughed and laughed, like children should. I slept better that night than I have since we got here.
One more week and then we're gone. I miss my husband, I miss home, but I'm going to miss this place too. ¶ 3/13/2006 03:21:00 AM 1 comments
Now I don’t know much about engineering, but I bet that most engineers back home would be impressed by how these guys work with relatively low-tech gear. They had wires rolled up into baskets and a machine that looked like it came out of an old space exploration movie.Once they got their equipment out they walked across the center of the crater around which the village is located, with a device that measures magnetic force, and found four spots which had very low magnetism, which they marked using a handheld GPS. Low magnetism usually points to water, so out of four spots they were confident they could find a couple of potential well locations.
They went back to those spots with more gadgets to measure soil humidity and write down countless figures, which they’ll use back at the office to figure out how deep the water is and how much of it we’ll be able to tap into.
It was fun to watch a group of children and young men follow their every step with tremendous curiosity!The chief surveyor Mr. Mtoi, a kind and patient man who seemed to enjoy his work very much, did his best to explain what they were doing and how everything worked. I couldn’t begin to explain it all myself, and I didn’t want to pester him too much with my questions, but I’m quite confident that they’re good at what they do and that by the time we get their written report back we’ll be looking at some good news. So for now, please excuse my brief (and probably confused) attempts at explaining the techinical aspects! It's the best I can do.
Naishiye, Mama Paolo’s daughter, who gave me earrings last time, made me a bracelet like my mother’s with my name on it. I gave them an English dictionary of mine last time we visited the village and Paolo (Naishiye's brother) found my name in it, which I had written inside the cover back in the fifth grade. She spelled it “Oliva” instead of “Olivia” anyway, but I couldn’t care less. It’s beautiful, and fits like a charm.
A while back I posted in my blog about my first visit to the Maasai village, and I spoke of how thrilled I was with being given earrings. I received a few comments, via the blog or personal e-mails, from people telling me how great it was that I could be made happy with such simple things. I’ve been thinking about that ever since, and while I understand the spirit of those comments, I do have one little thing to rectify. It’s not just simple things that make me happy, it’s the fact that I’ve been given such precious gifts by people who have so very little to give – people I’ve always admired from a distance, and admire even more now that I’ve been welcomed into their homes. It swells the heart.
On the way home from the village we stopped at a really nice café called Via Via in Arusha. We had some coffee, talked, laughed and relaxed. Now that the survey is done it feels like the wheels of progress are turning on this project, which now has the name of “Alasai Water Project”. We can move on to funding, educating the village about well management, maintenance and hygiene, and once the rain season is over we can start digging right away.
While we were having coffee with Anthony at Via Via, Neema and Solomon went for a walk with our driver. Neema is now traveling to Arusha a few times a week to pick up some street kids and bring them to Amani Children’s home. It’s rough work. While they were walking she spotted two boys, one 11 and one 13 or 14, who had run away from Amani late last summer. Neema told us that a lot of the kids who leave the home can’t find a ride to Arusha so they walk the 70 km, a dangerous two day journey, to get there. Life at Amani can be challenging, but I’m sure it beats life on the streets of Arusha.
She and Solomon went over to talk to them and see how they were doing. They were sniffing glue, which most street kids do because it numbs their appetite (and glue is cheaper than food), and the older boy had developed a lung infection. They asked Neema if they could come back to Moshi with her, they said they were tired of the street and wanted to return to Amani. Solomon and Neema made them throw out their glue and they walked them back to Via Via, just as we were on our way back to the car.
We took them with us in the Land Cruiser. Yusef, the 11 year old, and Luke, the 13 year old, were exhausted. My mom had a few peanut butter cookies (which she’d bought for the Maasai kids to eat) left in her purse, and they wolfed them down with a couple of cans of soda we had left in the car.
On the ride back to Moshi we played music and danced in our seats. We acted like clowns and the boys laughed and laughed, like children should. I slept better that night than I have since we got here.
One more week and then we're gone. I miss my husband, I miss home, but I'm going to miss this place too. ¶ 3/13/2006 03:21:00 AM 1 comments
