Family Trek on Mt. Meru

People climb mountains for all kinds of reasons. Some really want to summit the highest peak – to conquer. Some people really want to know what it is like in that other world of the mountain forest and alpine zone. We have been gazing up at Mt. Meru for the past 3 and a half years, with both of those motives, wondering when we might finally get to walk those slopes. Finally, this past week, we did it.

We had actually booked this trip for the May Day holiday weekend with Memorable Safaris. That plan went out the window when we departed Tanzania in March for the COVID lockdown. And good thing too! It was pouring down rain non-stop here in Arusha until the beginning of July, so it would have been miserable, slippery hiking through rain and mud. Memorable safari was happy to rebook us during this super dry month of October, and we were very happy to give the business to a company run by friends from our church. The plan was for Paul and Oren to summit, and for David and me to stay back at Saddle Hut and wait for them. Both because of David’s age and our mutual fear of heights, that seemed like a wiser plan.

DAY ONE

We had a relaxed start to our trip, which was good, giving us a chance to double-check all our gear and wash the dishes before our departure. Our head guide, 'Sunday', rolled up in a coaster bus at around 10 am, with five porters already aboard. Our fellow traveler Ellen was also already on the bus – she’s married to the guy who runs the company, so we were pretty sure things would go well! We also met our second guide William and the cook Emmanuel. While we drove, we quizzed Sunday about his experience and learned that he has been working to support treks for almost 20 years (first a porter, then a cook) and guiding for 9. We did the math and estimated that he’s probably summited Kilimanjaro 400 times, and Meru probably half that many. That’s a lot of experience!

Along the way to Arusha National Park, we picked up another five porters to complete our support team of 13 people (!!). Besides carrying our 4 duffle bags, they had to carry food for the whole team, cooking gear, and even an oxygen tank because we were trekking with people under 18 years old. We had just a few minutes at the park gate while Sunday checked us in and went through the formalities, enough time to look carefully at the 3-D scale model of Mt. Meru and try to figure out exactly how we would get up the mountain. It’s another 30-minute drive to Momella gate where we left the bus, and we spotted a few large herbivores along the way (zebra, buffalo, warthogs). Since it was already noon when we arrived, we had our box lunch under a shady shelter (enough food for 2 meals!) and prepared ourselves to start walking.

When hiking in Arusha National Park, it is mandatory to be guided by a Park Ranger with a gun, because the forests are full of dangerous Cape buffalo and the odd leopard. Ranger Julius was not a lot taller than David, armed with a very cheerful smile and a thirty aught six hunting rifle (an old bolt-action WW I design). Julius led the way up a steep dirt/gravel road heading up the mountainside – a road that we had actually driven twice when we did day safaris in Arusha National Park. 

Overhung trees

We were definitely sweating during this part of the hike, with the sun beating down on us, but then we got into the shade and started to experience delicate fragrances and multitudes of butterflies as we came up into the tropical forest zone. After about 90 minutes, we arrived at the fig tree arch, a natural monument where 2 strangling fig trees came together and formed an arch big enough to drive through. At this point, we caught up with the other two groups who were traveling with us – a single retired German guy, and a family group of 7, probably from Switzerland. Both of them were climbing Meru to prepare for summiting Kilimanjaro later in the week.We continued walking uphill along the road for another hour or so, spotting interesting wildflowers here and there, including impatiens native to the 3 taller volcanic mountains in this area. Huge trees are overhung with Spanish moss and bearded lichen epiphytes, with branches that twist and stretch out in unlikely shapes. 

Forest path

At that point, I also realized that Oren was not doing so well. Both he and Paul had woken up Monday morning with the beginnings of head colds. But Oren was really sniffling and feeling chilled as we walked. He really just wanted to arrive at our campsite, and it was pretty tough for him to enjoy the walk. David had fun watching a family of black and white colobus monkeys passing through overhead. But shortly afterwards, he decided that this whole hiking thing was no good at all, wanted to go back home, and started throwing large sticks in his frustration. 

David with Julius, the Wazee

At that point, it was a good moment to break out a chocolate bar and force feed about half of it to him and Oren. Managing David was definitely a challenging task during the first two days of the hike, as we walked endlessly uphill. Ranger Julius sort of adopted David as his fellow “elder” Mzee and said that David was in charge of the pace of our hiking and instructed him to walk second in line. That certainly helped.

We had another two hours of hiking up increasingly steep slopes on this narrow path, and I won’t lie, my heartrate must have been up to at least 140 bpm. I was really glad when Ellen started recounting stories from her life to me, because I was so out of breath, I couldn’t get out more than one sentence at a time. I just kept asking her questions. 😉 Still, I was thoroughly enjoying myself!

And then, suddenly we reached Miriakamba Hut – actually a series of wooden buildings, including 3 dormitories, each containing 12  4-person bunk rooms, with pillows on the beds and solar lighting in each room. There were separate buildings for the support staff, a kitchen, and a dining hall. There were even toilets and a sink or two with running water. We actually had expected much more rudimentary accommodation, and so it was surprisingly comfortable. Unlike any backpacking trip I’d taken in North America, we had no need to set up camp (or carry our gear). All we had to do was change our shoes, wash our faces in warm water (prepared by the porters, who had hustled up the mountain much faster than the 5.5 hours it took us), and then show up at a table in the dining room to enjoy popcorn and hot chocolate as the sunset. After all that exertion (10 km and an elevation gain of 1000 m), dinner of fried fish, potatoes, and vegetables tasted amazing.

Sunrise at Miriakamba, Meru in background

Sunday joined us at the table after dinner to do medical checks, which he repeated every morning and evening throughout the trip.  He had an oximeter to check how we were managing the altitude gain (we were up to 2500 m, 8200 ft) and asked about any other symptoms. Oren was already struggling with nausea and loss of appetite, which was kind of worrying. But we gave him medicine to treat his cold and sent him to bed early. Thankfully, none of us ever had a real problem with the altitude at any point. The hike is well planned to allow for acclimatization, and we live at 1000 m already.

DAY TWO:

We set off up through more Montane Forest on a very steep path. Much of it was actually paved with concrete because otherwise, it would be slippery and impassable in the rains. And there were sections that were literally at a 45-degree angle. One of the highlights of the morning was briefly spotting a male turaco, as it jumped from one tree to the next, flashing a ringed eye and vibrant red wings. We took frequent breaks to make sure David could keep up the steep walk and entertained him by playing “I’m thinking of something” (20 questions). Ellen was such a good sport, playing along with these family games and helping David stay in good spirits. Oren just put in earphones, listened to music, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

One of the amazing things about Mt. Meru is that it used to be a much larger volcano than Kilimanjaro. At some point, a violent eruption carried off three quarters of the mountain, leaving a steep, semi-circular crater, with slightly more gradual buttresses leading up to a saddle area on the north side. From Miriakamba hut at sunrise, we could see the ash cone rising up from the center of this crater area. Our hike led us, by a series of steep switchbacks, up the arm of the mountain. I knew the climb was supposed to be very steep, so I was unsure what it would be like to climb this high into the edge of the crater. 

Dusty heathlands

Thankfully, there was never any point where we needed to traverse steep drops or the edges of cliffs. Instead, we wound our way back and forth up through the forest and then into the heathland further up above 3000 m. It was amazing to see how the vegetation completely changed at a certain point, with totally different wildflowers and low shrubs. There were tiny orange gladiolus and little bluegrass lilies down lower, which changed to golden yarrow, St. John’s wort, and thistles up higher.

The paths were also extremely dusty. We also found that we could not help but kick up huge clouds of this volcanic dust as we walked, and so we had to keep some distance between ourselves.

Meru peak looming above saddle hut

Finally, after about 4.5 hours, we arrived at Saddle Hut, at 3500 m / 11500 ft. The view was amazing in all directions! We had a little time to enjoy lunch and then Sunday encouraged us to take a siesta for a while. I tried to sleep, but David was very keen to explore, and so then we went out to sit on a big concrete pad and looked around. We spotted a bushbuck on the slopes of little Meru to our left and were fascinated by the flight of the huge white-nape Ravens, soaring up into the saddle. Unfortunately, by this time, Oren had developed a full-blown fever and was lying under 3 sleeping bags. We were all supposed to take an acclimatization hike up to the top of Little Meru (3860m). But we decided that Oren really needed to stay back and rest. So, Paul, David, Ellen and I went with our two guides, Sunday and William, to climb Little Meru. Again, it was pretty steep and dusty, with switchbacks up the northern edge of the saddle. And as we suspected, it was an incredible view from up there in the late afternoon sun. One funny thing: halfway up Little Meru, my phone suddenly got reception, and I heard the chimes of my work email and the news notifications. I took a moment to enjoy the fact that I would not be checking any of those items until Thursday afternoon. It was especially great to take a break from politics! My only social media engagement was sending a few photos to the grandparents to let them know how we were getting along.

We had an earlier dinner, and then Ellen and Paul prepared themselves with all their gear and clothes for summitting. Oren had planned to go with them originally, and I had no doubt that he could do it physically. But there was no question of him starting a midnight hike when he was running a temperature. So, unfortunately, he did not get to experience that part of the hike. I’ll let Paul tell that part of the story…

TREK TO THE SUMMIT: Midnight to 10 am: Paul writing: I think there is something instructive about human nature to understand how one enters the perverse 'logic' of summitting this peak. Like contestants on a reality show such as 'Survivor', you must voluntarily submit to entering into a series of tests of endurance, that can seem almost contrived, even absurd in their increasing difficulty. Add to this, that unlike a reality show, you are paying thousands of dollars for the chance to participate, only to achieve an ephemeral reward if one completes the quest. 

Looking down at the ash cone

I spent a year in the Himalayas in high-school and am not unfamiliar with mountaineering. My last serious climb though was in college, Mt. Kenya, so it has been a while since I have been on a summitting expedition. Meru is not like anything I have experienced in terms of a peak. The Meru range is actually the south side of what was once an enormous volcano (much bigger than Kilimanjaro). About 2/3 of the mountain collapsed leaving a large jagged-edged semi-circle of peaks like teeth in a lower jaw. What this means is that the ridge is extremely narrow and the approaching slopes are very steep and frankly treacherous. The summit is 15,000 feet, lower than Kilimanjaro, but more difficult due to the amount of scrambling and bouldering necessary to move up. Other hazards include very high wind whenever you cross the ridge which can conceivably blow you off the top.

The apotheosis of the challenge though is the necessity of starting the climb between midnight and 2 am, and doing almost the entire climb in total darkness. At 12:30am when my alarm went off, I seriously considered not going. I knew I was not entirely well, with the remains of a cold. But knowing 2 guides and Ellen were all preparing I did get up and have some tea and chapatis prepared for us in the dining hall.

At 1am in full winter gear (it is below freezing on the summit), and a strong headlamp the four of us started the trek. It was a new moon so it was impossible to see anything outside the range of the headlight. Fortunately, the sky looked clear and it was not too windy. I was worried that walking for hours in the dark might be like fighting sleep during a long drive, but it was nothing to be worried about. We started up a series of steep switchbacks to a small peak called Rhino Point, then went down a bit and onto a ridge. At this point, we had to traverse a slope as crossed over the ridge. The slope was so steep that we had to hold onto a chain to keep from sliding down into an oblivion that we could not see during the night. (Note: I could not take photos on the way up, so all photos were taken from the peak and on the way back down.)

From the chain, we started up a very long steep ridge of... slippery gravel and sand! Again like an obstacle designed for a game show. At this point ascending was very exhausting and progressed with a 'two steps forward, one step back' rhythm--an expenditure of precious energy as the air became increasingly thinner.

At different times we crossed the main ridge which was immediately evident, even without light because of the intense gusts of wind that assaulted us as soon as we were exposed on both sides. 

By 4:30 am we were aware of some larger jagged peaks looming ahead of us, but it was impossible to tell how far or how much higher they were. In fact, a number of times I thought we were nearing the highest summit when it just turned out to be one of the jagged peaks along the way. 

The graying morning came just before 6am, although we were on the side of the ridge away from the sunrise, and still a half-hour from the summit. We passed a last small saddle in the ridge and I looked up at the giant last jagged tooth looming before us. The climb to the summit, at that moment, seemed as far and unattainable as it did 4 hours earlier. The air was thin and the last climb was very steep. Another climb of scrambling and bouldering to the top. Only this time with a stop to rest and catch our breath every 3 or 4 steps. 

At 6:30 am we reached the summit and looked over a very cloudy day far below in the valleys on both sides of the ridge. It was quite clear where we were though, and we could easily see to Kilimanjaro and down the ridge from whence we had come. 

It was quite cold and windy up there and we did not stay more than about 10 minutes before starting our descent. Happily, the return takes about a third of the time of the ascent, and difficult spots like the slippery sand were great for bounding and sliding quickly down. The rocky parts though were quite treacherous, and it is quite a revelation to see some of the places we were walking in total darkness. 

Sunday our guide said that it is actually better to hike in the dark, 'goallessly' because if you are always seeing ahead of you it can be very discouraging as progress is so slow and the path ahead so treacherous.

By the time we reached the saddle hut base camp at 10am, we were shot. The steep descent was quick but really painful on the knees and toes. We had hiked for 10 hours, 18 kilometers with only a little sleep the night before. I laid down in bed for a short nap knowing we had to make another 5km, 1000 m descent to the first base camp before the day was done. 

 DAY THREE

Morning at Saddle Hut (David's photo)

Back at Saddle Hut, Oren and I didn’t get much sleep. He woke up several times, with fever and sore throat. And then there were each of the various groups getting up in the middle of the night for their summit. We also found we needed to shed fluid at night several times (i.e. go to the outhouse) – on the other hand, that was a great excuse to go outside and look at the stars in the dark, clear night. As we went to bed, Scorpio was all curled up around the crater rim, with the Milky Way stretched overhead. At 2 am, Orion was rising in the East; Mars was high. There is nothing like seeing the stars at high altitude.

David was ready to be up at dawn along with me – we didn’t want to miss any of those amazing moments being up high. We woke on a stony island above a sea of clouds. Oren was able to get out of bed a little later. He had missed the chance to summit, and he didn’t want to miss out entirely. The fever was gone, so he decided that it would still be worthwhile to try to climb up Little Meru and see the view from there. But he didn’t want to go alone, and begged me to go with him, guided by Ranger Julius. David, meanwhile, was keen to cover some new ground (now that climbing higher was optional, he had a much better attitude about it!). So, he agreed to go with two of our porters to hike up Rhino point on the southern side of the saddle, which is just as high as Little Meru – he had heard he might see Rhino bones up there, and he was keen on that. Also, he hoped to meet Paul and Ellen on their way down from the summit. 

Oren and I at top of Little Meru peak

Thus, we split up for a couple hours of optional hiking on Wednesday morning. I really enjoyed getting to climb Little Meru again, for a totally different view in the morning, with a lot more cloud cover sweeping in and out. With the binoculars, we were able to track David’s progress up the Rhino point switchbacks and see the groups of hikers coming back along the crater rim. I was so glad that Oren was able to accomplish something tangible on the trek, and for myself, it was another chance to marvel at the goodness of God’s creation and praise him for it. “This is my Fathers world” was the hymn playing in my head for most of those four days.

By the time we got back down to Saddle Hut, Paul and Ellen had arrived back and crashed. So, the kids and I played cards for a while and passed the time. Eventually, they got out of bed and ate some lunch (though they said they would have preferred sleep to food). And finally, around 2 pm we set off back down the mountain towards Miriakamba.

The amazing botany was still all around us, but I must confess that those 3+ hours down the mountain were pretty hard. And I had not even summited! I still can’t imagine how Paul and Ellen stayed on their feet. It was just so steep that there was no way to avoid some agony in the feet and knees. 

St. John's Wort

Paul, David, Ellen and I played a lot of “Contact,” and then tried to share as many riddles or jokes as we could think of, just to distract ourselves from the pain. Oren was somewhere way ahead with Julius, just trying to push forward to the next time he could get back in bed. We had some more great Colobus sightings, and also spotted a couple of buffalo crashing through the forest 100 m away. By the time we got to Miriakamba, Paul and Ellen could hardly stand it, trying to wait for dinner to be ready. We had to go find Sunday and beg him to complete our medical checks early so that we could go to bed! All of us were tucked in by 7:45 pm.

DAY FOUR

I woke up at quarter to six, very refreshed after a solid 10-hour sleep, and just in time for sunrise. Again, it was magical to literally watch the sun rise through a blanket of clouds over Arusha, and then shine back on the crater wall and the ash cone. I even had a few minutes to do some birdwatching before breakfast and identified the Kikuyu White eye and the Northern Double-Collared Sunbird around our camp.

Homemade Bao

We set out promptly at 8 am for more downhill walking. It wasn’t quite as steep as the afternoon before, but still wasn’t super comfortable. Sometimes we walked through forest, but other times we took a straight path through long open rocky clearings on the mountainside. Every view back was breathtaking. On one long stretch of exposed lava rock, I noticed two parallel rows of six little indentations in the rock – it was a homemade Bao game, drilled into the rock by Chagga shepherds long ago, a way to pass the time while they kept an eye on their livestock. Even on the way down that day, there were small wonders to notice and appreciate. 

Finally, we hit level ground in a familiar place – the path to a marvelous waterfall we’ve visited before on walking safaris. We were glad to cool off in the spray of the waterfall, sit down for a few moments, and appreciate how far we had come. From there, we had just a short walk back to Momella gate, with plenty of game to see along the way. 

Our only disappointment was that we didn’t see any giraffe on the plain that morning. We were almost back to the road when suddenly Ranger Julius spotted a tiny giraffe – probably only 5 days old. It appeared to be alone and it gazed shyly at our group for a while and then settled itself down on the ground for a rest, just 3 m from the road. This was an absolute treat for us. Hopefully mama was somewhere nearby, but we never saw her. 

So, we survived! We got to the gate and enjoyed a box lunch, which Emma had prepared for us in advance. David climbed Micro-Meru. We received certificates for each of our achievements in climbing. We offered words of thanks and appreciation to the crew and gave them tips. And finally, we got back on the bus and were delivered, one by one, to our homes, very tired, very dirty, but very thankful for the challenging experience.

 

 

Wild jasmine on the plains

tiny detailed alpine flower

Cold mountain mornings

Impatiens

FOR MORE PHOTOS CLICK THIS LINK

Kilimo Hifathi in Igunga

Once a fortnight we get together for dinner with our neighbors on the Joshua Foundation base. The conversation is always interesting as we update each other on local happenings in the town and country. Last Thursday I was told an incredible story of 2 elephants that wandered off the Tangire reserve about 2 weeks ago and walked down the road past our compound around 6am. The guard outside our gate reported that some piki-piki (taxi motorcycle) drivers parked outside our gate saw them and one of them who claimed to be 'an expert on elephants' went up to them and snapped a selfie in front of them. Egged on by the other impressed drivers he went back for a second as the elephants departed. He reportedly went up and pulled the tail of one them to get it to turn around. It apparently did and killed him on the spot. Later that day one of the elephants was found lingering at a small river near our neighborhood and shot. The other is still at large. 

On the same evening and went home and learned, upon opening my phone that the President and First Lady of the United States had tested positive for the coronavirus. I confess that my reaction to both of these reports provoked a similar reaction: sadness and horror, mingled with rage at the reckless stupidity of someone whose behavior inflicted such self harm and leaves the rest of us reeling. (The President has since 'recovered' the taxi moto driver was not so lucky).

In truth, the daily drama from the American political sphere seems to dominate life here at the moment. It is strange because Tanzania is also in the middle of an election campaign, but it is far less fraught as the current President is virtually unchallenged in his re-election bid. If anyone wants to know, it is hard to take pride in being an American living overseas under the regime of the current officeholder. When I mention my nationality to the casual inquirer, an embarrassed sigh and clicking of the tongue is not an uncommon reaction from the one who asks.

Despite the drama of the elephants, life around the compound has been quite normal. The kids have been in school, and Rebecca and I have been sharing office duties. We each get to take off one day per week since this is a shared position. I have been using my day-off mornings to play golf at our club. Being a latecomer to the game, improvement has been uneven at best. But it is a relaxing pastime away from the office. Work has been a bit stressful as we continue to carry on novel tasks such as car sales. (I am happy to say I was able to sell one car, the Rav 4, last week after a not uncomplicated negotiation, run-around, and a trip to a lawyer to complete the transaction.) All in all, I consider it a success but was still aware of being manipulated by the buyer at the last minute when the negotiation was completed and we were at the bank depositing the money. (As I said in my last entry, this was to be expected.)

This past week, however, Rebecca took on the parenting role full time while I went on a four-day field visit with Chrispin our Food Security Coordinator to see the work of one of our partners in Igunga, a town in Central West Tanzania (Tabora region). The drive to Igunga can, fortunately, be done in one 8 hour day on decent roads. Chrispin and I left on Monday morning after Rebecca and I got the kids off to school and arrived at the office. 

The drive went off without incident although we made one big stop to visit a site where our partner OWSL was planning a new food security project in a Datoga community. The Datoga people are one of the remaining very traditional tribes in Tanzania, not unlike the Maasai. They have resisted change and development and maintain a very traditional lifestyle. Most of them do not go to school or even speak Kiswahili in the more remote communities. 

Upon arrival to meet a woman's savings group about 4 hours into our trip, I was struck by how sparse the population was in this area. For the most part, the land is very dry savannah and one can travel many kilometers without seeing a single person, or domicile. I believe the women that came to meet us had traveled many kilometers to get together to meet us. The meeting was organized by a young Datoga man who had been sponsored to go to school and spoke good Kiswahili and English. His name was Gidufana. He was an essential bridge for Chrispin and I to be able to speak to the women, who greeted us warmly with applause and a welcome song on our arrival.  I was amused when Gidufanan introduced us by explaining to the women: "I know a lot of you were doubtful about me going to school and learning Kiswahili and leaving the community. You asked 'Will he ever be able to bring us a bull?' Well now you see that I was able to bring a bull." (I realize that when we go out for a field visit, we have our own idea of what we are doing-- checking out the work of the partner, but project beneficiaries and the partner may see it quite differently and with a more 'patrimonial' lens--looking forward to meet and petition the patron.

Chrispin and I spent about an hour with them sitting together listening to them explain the challenges they face, as well as the successes their savings group had achieved. The main problem, lack of water, is plainly evident. The area where they live gets one rainy season per year and spends 7 months dry. The nearest water source, a borehole is 6 kilometers away. Women travel 12 kilometers daily carrying 25 liters of water from the source back to their homes. Girls usually help their mothers when they are old enough which leaves little time for school. I was also told that the nearest primary school was also over 6 kilometers away and even 6-year-olds need to make the daily trek on foot if they want to attend. 

The project our partner wants to do with the women is teaching conservation agriculture (CA), a low-tillage farming technique that reduces the need for water in farming by reducing water loss. They also want to help them with water harvesting techniques on the ground and off or rooves, although from what I could see, most of the houses around there had thatched rooves. Making water readily available in the community, however, may be beyond the scope of MCC's resources. 

While we were meeting, 4 cars drove by on the way to a neighboring village. An unusual site off-road, but it was a group of campaigners from CCM, the ruling party, getting the vote out, and introducing community members to their local leaders. When they saw our gathering of a dozen people, they stopped and did a brief rally right there. They were polite and it was good to hear the women advocate with the party, who are championing a development agenda, for a better water source in the area (as well as electricity). The local leaders said that this will come in the next 2 years. (I don't know whether that is true, but they are more likely to mobilize resources better than MCC to achieve some of these goals.)

We left after about an hour and a half meeting and continued on our way to the town of Igunga. We were still a ways away and arrived after dark. Somehow I was expecting that the highway through the middle of 'nowhere' would not be frequently traveled, especially after dark. I was alarmed to see that in fact, we had to negotiate over 100 tractor-trailers along the way as the road is a major thoroughfare between the harbor at Dar Es Salaam and inland countries such as Rwanda and Uganda. Chrispin drove skillfully but the highway is not very wide and many truck drivers took liberties with their side of the road. We passed a number of truck skeletons that told a tale of bad accidents in the past. 

Nonetheless, we made it to Igunga in one piece. It is a small town where our partner OWSL has a regional office from which they manage projects in 6 villages. It was late and we checked into our hotel. I was actually quite happy find they did have airconditioning in some of the rooms as Tabora region is not on the high plateau like Arusha and it gets quite hot in the day. I was tired and went to bed without dinner.

The next morning we went over to the regional office and met the local OWSL project manager as staff. From there we proceeded to the local govt. office to meet the agriculture extension officers there. I am always vaguely guarded against closed tight room settings here as no one seems to practice any coronavirus precautions. And in fairness, they probably do not have any reported COVID cases at this time. But I was happy that despite the bustling crowd at the District office, we were greeted by one other person in a large open room. 

From there we proceeded to visit several village sites where OWSL has its conservation agriculture projects. We had a plan to visit 3 villages and a number of farms near each village and meet the lead farmers to encourage them, and for Chrispin to provide some technical advice. We traveled with 4 to 5 in our double cab Ford Ranger pick-up. Chrispin and I have been driving with every single window wide open to minimize the risk of transmitting coronavirus. We cannot ask every single person we meet to wear a mask, and the risk here is really minute. But that does mean no AC and driving through some very hot dusty country, especially off-road. 

To get to the villages we had to drive about 20 kilometers off-road and continued for 20km to reach each successive one. In retrospect, I would have suggested they start with the furthest one and work back because when we finished we were deep in the middle of the savannah away from the highway with a very long trip back at the end of the day. 

At each village, we met several lead farmers and their groups. 

Leader:  "Kilimo hifathi!"

Group: "Jibu la njaa!"

Leader: "Jibu la njaa!"

Group: "Kilimo hifathi!"

The call and response (Conservation Agriculture!, The answer to hunger!, / The answer to hunger!, Conservation Agriculture!) was a common introductory proclamation when the group and leader met us. The adoption model that OWSL uses is training a lead farmer who sets up a model field to show his neighbors and then trains them in how to do it if they are interested. Because the soil is so dry in this area and rain so scarce most of the year, this technique can yield up to 4 times the harvest even in the first year. 

We heard at every place we went, group members singing the praises of CA. Because of the time of year we were visiting, we were not able to see the results of the harvest because this is the planting season for corn. We saw many dry fields with withered ground cover full of holes carefully prepared and filled with manure, ready for seeds, but they are not going to be seeing corn for several more months. Tabora region, as I said above has one rainy season per year, and the problem of water is very apparent. 

As I said earlier, I realize that a field visit has a patrimonial character no matter how much we try to feel a part of the context, speak the language, etc. This was apparent by the number of places we were asked to share food. This has always posed a dilemma for me when very food insecure people lavish huge amounts of food on us when we visit. The situation is complicated by COVID, and Chrispin and I had agreed that we could not put ourselves in a situation where we are invited into a small closed hut to sit around and share food with 15-20 others cramped in with us. 

Sure enough, this happened at the third farm we stopped at. We gratefully accepted the offer of chapatis, rice, pigeon pea stew, and beans, but had to decline when they asked us to sit together with them indoors. It was definitely awkward when they set 2 chairs for Chrispin and I out under a tree nearby. But MCC has protocols that we need to observe to be sure we don't put others in our office at risk. 

This was not the last gigantic meal we were asked to share. At the 5th farm, we were served another huge meal of rice, chapatis, mandazi, beans, and chicken stew. I was very full already and was bearing gifts of sugar cane and watermelon from 2 other farms. It was another awkward situation where I politely took as little as possible and had to ask them to remove some rice from my plate. (Fortunately, Chrispin had already done the same thing, so I did not feel like too much of a cad.)

The last farm was so far away! We crossed 2 dry seasonal river beds and it felt like we were lost in a game park with no road. But we finally came to the farm and saw some nice key-hole kitchen gardens, and talked to a potential lead farmer about the training Chrispin would be doing the next day for new lead farmers. 

 We got back to our hotel at about 6pm after a very long day. But it was a very good day and I took some very nice photos of farmers and groups which I have placed throughout this blog. 

The next day Chrispin started a two-day training seminar to train new lead farmers (just for clarification to readers, these are farmers who are leaders, not farmers who cultivate metal!) We drove out to a secondary school located close to the first village we visited. We met a number of the farmers we had met the day before in a large classroom. (Again, I was happy to see it was large, open-windowed and allowed good social distance, masks, of course, were not worn by anyone.) 

Chrispin is a very good trainer and I had a good workout for my Kiswahili as I listened to the training the whole day. It seemed to go very well and the group was very engaged. I always learn something myself about the topic he is training on when I pay attention. 

The next day, Chrispin planned to continue the training, but I returned to Arusha myself in the Ranger. It was an eight-hour drive and not altogether unpleasant, although I was stopped by nearly every policeman on the road. (Fortunately no tickets!). I got back home in the afternoon. It was good to see Rebecca and the kids again and got caught up on their week. (I worry that it will be extra hard for them because I am the morning person who gets everything ready for school in the morning.) But Rebecca reported that it generally went well and no one was late for school. 

Friday I took a day off and played golf with my friend Mike T. It is good to be back for a weekend. Next week the kids are off school and we have plans to climb Mt. Meru... more details next time.