A visit from MCC East Africa (and more rain)

Kilimanjaro, in a moment of clearing from our roof

Its a bit hard not to sound redundant these days in this blog when the rain is such a constant, and such a limiting factor in daily activities. I thought that I was used to rainy seasons from our time in Burundi, but perhaps the proximity to the lake there shielded us from the its worse effects. In Bujumbura it might rain every afternoon for an hour or so, but for the most part, there were spaces in everyday when the sun was shining. Not so in Arusha. It seems like we can go a week with heavy cloud cover, or hear the rain pounding torrentially for an entire day and night. And the 'built environment' here, particularly roads and drainage systems do not seem at all equipped to handle the amount of water pouring down. This is especially true of the many dirt roads which either wash away into deep potholes and rock, or else turn into tarpit-like mud that is impassable without a 4wd vehicle. I am intimidated by the rainy season here and can see that people who are used to it recognize that it will be a major obstacle to travel--especially doing field visits to remote areas. (We have a big one coming up in April)

On the good side, on the rare occasions when the weather is clear, the air is really washed clean. It makes for great views of the distant mountains in the area. I noticed Mt. Meru was exceptionally clear last week, like I could see every crag. So I climbed up on our water tower to see if Kilamanjaro was visible as well. (It is not particularly close) and I saw it plainly visible and covered with snow. (I later heard that hikers cannot currently summit because of the amount of snow on it right now.) It was quite spectacular and I tried to get some photos of it.

The rain does not make our daily routine any better, particularly the 5am wakeup. With cloud cover, we barely see the light of day by the time we leave the house at 6:40 am. Getting the kids up in complete darkness is difficult and they complain bitterly during breakfast about waking up in the 'middle of the night.' Occasionally we are also graced wtih a power failure that makes preparing to go to school and work even more difficult and we rely heavily on our headlamps.

David with giant beetle

But it usually is not always that bad. I've even been told recently that part of the reason for the particularly heavy rains this month are due to a cyclone off the coast of Madascar. The trade-off of clear air, green vegetation, and abundant water in our tanks reminds us of the blessing of rain in this time.

The past week was not terribly eventful. Rebecca has been busy helping with logistics for an MCC East Africa Rep. meeting. Sharon (our Directr) is hosting it in Arusha, and Reps. from Uganda, South Sudan, Ethilopia, and Kenya are expected to attend as well as our two Area Directors.

Oren learning figure drawing in art class, his skull on left

We continue to have a fairly 'normal' routine for the week with the kids arriving back to our office from school about 4:30 pm and we either head home or to an evening activity. Currently Wednesday evening is dedicated to choir practice. The kids come with us since we can't take them home before we begin at 5pm. They play around the church while we sing then we often get a meal at an Indian restaurant on the way home. This week we also went out on Saturday to see the St. Constantine secondary school (where Oren is) production of 'Aida' ( the Tim Robbins/Elton John musical not the opera.) It was very well done! Oren had been one of the scene painters but was not in the production. It was great to see the school had such talented voices and a good drama production staff.

Sunday we had the opportunity to go a family fellowship after church which has been reconveined after several months of not meeting. It is organized to give missionary families a chance to connect kids together. This is good for us because finding kids Oren's age is a constant quest here. (School friends tend to live very far away.) We were happy to meet some new families that have recently arrived, although distance remains a challenge.

The new week, which we are now halfway through began as a normal work week, but MCC leadership from East Africa were arriving throughout the afternoon. Rebecca spent a lot of time at their hotel to arrange logistics for the week. I was also called upon to help Rebecca with childcare when the meetings began on Tuesday. There are 5 kids who came from country programs in Ethioia, South Sudan, and Uganda. The oldest, Jacob, is 13 and seemed to have exactly the same interests as Oren. Although our kids were in school the whole day, Oren was able to meet Jacob in the late afternoon and they had a good time together discussing Minecraft, and other games they like to play.

We also had a chance to meet MCC Representatives from the East African Countries, and talk about their work. There was really no direct overlap between them and us during our time as Reps. in Rwanda/Burundi, but we certainly knew many of the same people everywhere.

MCC visitors with maasai trainers

Wednesday we headed up to Longido where our partner who works to support girls rights and economic and social development have their office. We mainly support them in their work to prevent FGM (female genital mutilation), a practice that is quite persistent in this region despite its illegality. We went together in a bus for an hour and half. There we were treated to a presentation of the work our partner TEMBO does, particularly in changing mindsets about FGM. We were introduced to 6 trainers-- maasai women in traditional dress, all of whom said they had been circumsized and were now powerful advocates in the community to end the practice. What was particulalry insightful to hear was the testimony from the head trainer Mary (Tembo) who explained how embedded in the entire culture of courtship and marriage, and how difficult it was to end it independently of other practices of early, arranged, marriage, pre-marital sex, etc.

Trainer Pauline--in full costume

But it is clear that they are having an impact on the community and many girls, especially those who are going to school and want to continue to secondary, are even openly refusing to go through the practice and condemning it.

At one point Mary did a very graphic explanation, using a model to show the different types of FGM and the health complications they create. (infection, fistula, infertility, hemmorhaging). It was very uncomfortable to see and hear described. (Prevalence in the Arusha region, where we work is about 50% among all women.)

At the end of the presentation, and after sharing a meal and asking many questions, the MCC group loaded back into the bus and headed back to Arusha. We got back late and missed choir. One variation though is that we brought Jacob back from the tour to stay the night with Oren. They are enjoying playing minecraft together.

Mvua Inanyesha (Its Raining--sometimes)

David with hedgehog 3.0

It has been hard to get back into the rhythm of blogging after our 2 weeks in Iringa. One reason is because the week after we got back was pretty uneventful as we settled back into rhythms of life here in Arusha. The only thing worth mentioning probably is the weather.

In fact, I have not figured out the weather here. As you know, being south of the equator means that our hot season is December through March, and the colder season is in the summer. This was evident on our arrival when we joined a swimming club and could not believe anyone would want to swim in the near arctic water of the pool. In fact we never saw anyone join us in the morning for a swim.

But by December that had changed. It started to get warmer and through the winter more people have been coming. On our return from Iringa I would describe several nights here as pretty hot. Like Bujumbura weather. Not that you would need an airconditioner, but having a fan blowing across the bed at least.

The rainy season is even more confusing. Usually when it rains it feels very cold and clammy here, like a Seattle winter. We have 2 rainy seasons, one around December and another beginning in March. But it was a little hard to tell where one ended and the other began this year. When it rains it pours and floods! Rivers fill, there is plenty of water filling reservoirs and water tanks. The savannah turns a lush green, and looks less like a desert. But then it will stop, even just for a week and the water just seems to vanish--sucked up by the earth, and in days the vegetation is parched and brown again. The overall effect to date is that it is a pretty arrid climate.

The other odd thing about the rain, especially around Arusha is the 'rain shadow' cast by Mt. Meru. What this basically means is that areas that seem to be only minutes apart driving may have vastly different amounts of rain fall. Even today, after church, we were in a torrential downpour for a good part of the afternoon while we ate lunch in town. When it was finally dry enough to get to the car and drive home, about 15-20 minutes away, we found it bone dry. No rain had reached it. I think it will take several years to get used to the rhyhm of weather here, and I think it is appropriate to have a wardrobe comprable to what one would wear in the Pacific Northwest--light, warm, and waterproof.

Besides contemplating weather, Rebecca and I did quite a bit of catching up in the office. I was getting ready for a trip on the following Monday up to Ngorongoro to get an update on the work of our partner who has recently started a maternal and child health project up there. It is a multipronged intervention which requires the partner to set up caregroups of traditional midwives who in turn oversee neighborhood groups of pregnant and lactating women. There are about 75 neighborhood groups with 10-20 women each. The project also is procuring antenatal care vitamins, and providing nutritional incentives to encourage women to attend these visits. Finally, there is a component to provide nurse-midwives in the clinics in the area with a practicum to hone their delivery skills.

All of this to say, it is a complex project which only started in the last 4 months and I had some trepidation about going up and finding the partner completely overwhelmed with the amount of work they had to do.

I arrived by daladala to Karatu on Monday and stayed the night, then the director of the partnership, Laangakwa, a Maasai man with a degree in sociology, met me in his landrover and drove me up. It had rained that night and the roads into the Ngorongoro game park we extremely muddy and slippery. I was glad I was not driving. (It was actually somewhat amusing, because the driver was a maasai in full traditional dress. He looked like he just came in from herding cattle, but he was a very good driver as well.

NDI office, no electricity

It was also very cold, and I was not well prepared for the cold and wet since the last time I had visited it was quite hot. We drove to their office where I was able to see the way they were keeping data for the project. We are tracking the number of pregnant women in the program, # of antenatal care visits, and especially the number of facility assisted deliveries vs. home deliveries. The data for home deliveries is really valuable because it is not tracked at all in this ward. The facilities know the # of deliveries they do, but have no idea how many happen in homes. Since our program covers the entire ward, we are able to track the # of home deliveries monthly. I could see we had a long way to go as of some 200 pregnant women in the ward, there had been 25 home deliveries in one month and only 2 at a facility. Changing that ratio will be a major indicator of success of our program.

We are also collecting data on infant and maternal mortality as reported by the neighborhood groups each month. This is also important to know because it is rare that a child or woman who is dying or dies is taken to a facility, so most of these deaths go uncounted. They are simply buried by the family and are never reported to the medical system.

I found that the partner had a good system to help the traditional midwives track these indicators in their neighborhood groups. I was quite impressed.

Traditional midwives at training

I also had a chance to see a care group meeting where a group of 13 traditional midwives were being trained. It was a lesson on having a birth plan. (Something we encourage women to think about well in advance of delivery, as things like permission from husband and mother-in-law, as well as financing, and transport need to be planned for well in advance if she is going to get to a facility for birth. The training was done quite well but I did have a learning moment myself when I saw that the teaching aids--cards with pictures of people-- a mother, husband, etc. in front of a hut were shown. Most of the traditional midwives, who understood well the content of the lesson, were completely baffled by the simple illustrations, and many held them upside down. I realized that they had probably never seen books or even paper, and could not easily 'read' an illustration, because even a 2d representation on a paper has a syntax and is something we learn to 'read' at a very early age. I could see that for these women, the lines on the paper did not obviously look like a representation of anything, and they had to be coached to see the illustration for what it was representing.

They did, however, understand the importance of a birth plan and seemed ready to disseminate the information to their groups.

After the training I headed back to Karatu with Laangakwa and got a daladala back to Arusha. A daladala is a kind of minivan with a footprint that is not even as big as a honda minivan, but can they ever pack it with people. I road with about 25 other passengers in a vehicle made to seat about 12 baed on the number of seats. We are packed in like sardines and many are standing completely hunched over. You can't budge and just try to minimize the discomfort of motionlessness, and pray quietly that the dreiver does not get in an accident. On the upside, it only costs about $3 for the 200 kem trip!

Oren petting realistic looking elephant at Impala hotel

I got back on Tuesday evening and was happy to be with the family. Believe me, it is harder to be the one at home with the kids. Because school begins so early, the day starts just after 5am for Rebecca and I in order to get everything ready for the kids and us to have a 6:40 am departure. I think the uniforms are what really kill us. We have to have not only their school uniform but also an elaborate PE uniform that has a separate shirt, pants, long soccer socks, shoes and shin guards, and when there is swimming--towel, goggles and suit. This all has to be found and loaded into bags along with them in full uniform. Rebecca and I also have to pack for the day because we drop the kids off at the bus stop near our office then go for a swim before work. (We get there at 7am.)

MCC team meeting

I feel refreshed by 8:15 am when we are done with the swim and dressed to go to work, but the time between 5 and 8 can feel nearly unbearable by Thursday. (Note, one of the worst moments is having to jump in the icy pool just after 7!). Still I would not trade away the routine, because the morning swim is one of the really life-giving rituals that really prepares me for the day. (We pray right after the swim which is very helpful too.) We are doing a lenten fast during the day this month, so being hungry during the day might contribute to a feeling of exhaustion.

David as Frodo

So we have been back into the routine now that the kids are back in school and have about 2 more weeks of it before their next break. Other highlights of the week that I will not elaborate on were our weekly choir practice on Wednesday evening to prepare for our Easter service, the kids having a dress up day for book week at school (David was Frodo) a team meeting on Friday for MCC, which we do quarterly, and a fondue party we were invited to attend by a Swiss/British couple on Saturday. It was delicious and a fitting end to a socially engaging week.

Rebecca was just recovering from a spot of food poisoning she may have contracted at a World Council of Churches meeting she attended. She was well enough this morning to step in and lead music at our church when the person scheduled this week had a family emergency. We finished off Sunday with a relaxing (rainy) lunch then went home where I decided to make cream puffs for dessert tonight. We enjoyed them over a game of Carcisonne. Kids are now back in bed ready to repeat the routine again tomorrow morning.

Rebecca leading worship (Neil on mandolin)

Last year I killed my wife (and other grammatical mistakes)

Rainbow agama I saw sunning on a rock

The tricky thing about Swahili is the surprisingly small number of phonemes and syllables that are used to construct a fairly complex language. This does mean of course, that tone and musicality are important to make ones meaning clear, but these are not as formalized as a language like Thai. What it means for those of us who are novices, is that we quite easily make often hilarious mistakes as our mispronounciations will almost always have an entirely different meaning, rather than sound like nonsense. Mwaka uliopita, nilimua mke wangu. The sentence, in an attempt to say I got married last year, actually says 'I killed my wife last year.' because of mispronouncing one vowel as oo instead of a long o. Another student studying here was explaining to all her Tanzanian friends who cared to know that she was 'drunk in Kenya' --meaning to say that she was 'raised in Kenya' but slighly misconjugating the verb (Nililewa kwa Kenya, instead of nilililewa). Other times it seems that very contrary things are homonyms. If you said to me, Zamani, nilipanda miti elfu moja. I would not know if you had planted 1000 trees or climbed 1000 trees. Oren told us on several occasiong that he was pooping snakes, when he was trying to say 'there is a snake'.

front view of  banda

So for those of you who have been following our adventures regularly, you know that we spent the past 2 weeks in a language intensive offered outside of the town of Iringa, in Southern Tanzania. More precisely, the school rents out small 'bandas' with a chairs and a table in a campsite outside of town next to a river. It has the feeling of being quite remote, although there are a number of camps like it up the river nearby. One reason it feels so rustic, I suppose, is the lack of internet connectivity. That made posting a blog on our arrival difficult and we did not even attempt to do another one while we were there after that.

The isolation, however, was ideal for studying Swahili, and we spent every week day from 8:30 to 1:30 in class, then had at least an hour of assigned homework and another hour of flashcard review each day as well. This routine was very productive and we learned a ton of Swahili, particulaly to fill in the gaps in the things we have been studying the past 6 months. The kids were in their own Swahili class while we were in lessons. They were not assigned homework because the long morning hours were already quite a lot for them. Oren, however did have to keep up with his school work as being in Iringa meant he missed 4 days of school. His teachers gave him assignments and he had to do about an hour of work every night to keep up. He was not happy about that at all. Fortunately one of the weeks we were there was a holiday week for the school, so he did not miss too much.

We usually spent some part of the afternoon playing games with the kids like badminton, volleyball or frisbee. There was also a playground with some swings and odd merry-go-rounds that we could ride together. None of it would be legal
in the US, but it was fun! David also really liked to climb the many huge boulders that were around. There was an abundance of them in the camp and offered opportunities to test out one's climbing skills. Some were actually too high to do without a rope.

We did climb to several vantage points above the camp and had some great views of the camp and the river. I admit it was a bit unerving to climb around through the tall grass and up the rocky crags because we were told that the place was full of spitting cobras, puff adders, mambas, and pythons. These were sighted frequently. On one of our last days, in fact, as she approached her front stoop, another guest was met by a spitting cobra that reared up and blocked her way into her house. (The staff dispatched with it -- sorry herpatologist friends!) We, fortunately had no encounters with snakes during our forays onto the rocks.

The river also had some very nice places to hike to including an area where a huge number of boulders had created a kind of long waterfall. It was a place David really loved to climb boulders. It was fun, but definitely felt risky in terms of slipping and breaking a bone and not being anywhere near good medical care.

We were not the only people here during our 2 weeks, although the demographics changed quite a bit each week. The first week, we were with a Mennonite missionary family who were working in Zanzibar. She was a physician he was an IT person. They had 2 young kids. We would see them at meals, which we would eat together at the cafeteria. In the 'small world' way that Mennonites have, we found that we had some common friends, notably her cousin Michael S. who we supported as a service worker when he was in Eastern DRC. I have mentioned before that he was killed while working with a UN group of experts in Congo last year. She asked us one evening to share some stories about him from his time with us in MCC. We enjoyed hearing about his visits to family in the US and how he is remembered by them.

David with stoneage slingshot

They left after the first week and a new crew of people came in. Over the weekend though, we took the opportunity to explore some of the sights around Iringa outside the camp. The one place that was quite close was called 'Isimila' named after the river that runs by it. It is a sight where artifacts from a stoneage civilization have been found. It is also near a geological feature called 'natural pillars' which are found in only one or two places in the world. We were curious about this place and took a drive out to it on a Saturday morning. It was not easy to find as there is a single small sign pointing it out. It was several kilometers off the main road and offered a small museum with a curator who also did guided tours of the site.

After seeing some of the tools, dated back 200,000--400,000 years in the museum, we went out to the site. I was quite surprised to find it so undeveloped and yet so abundantly full of artifacts. It felt like we were one of the first people there. We saw hundreds of stone ax heads, scraping tools, spear heads, and round sling projectiles just lying around. That is because this is in a dry river bed that floods regularly and continues to unearth more and more layers of artifacts. It was pretty cool to be able to just pick them up, examine them and imagine someone making and using them at some point in the ancient past.

We continued to walk up the river bed and eventually got to the natural pillars. These are some really strange features and look at first glance like giant termite or ant hills. They even look quite fragile, but are like cement. They are made from a top layer of some kind of mineral that resists erosion while the bottom clay layer erodes away. What is left after millenia of erosion are these pillars that were once the edges of the river that ran through there. The kids actually seemed to enjoy seeing these sights eventhough it was a fair amount of walking during the day.

On Sunday we went to an English speaking church in town and met up with some relatives of friends from our church in Arusha. They had kids just a bit younger than ours and we went over to their house for lunch with them. They are Danish and it was really fun to talk with them. It reminded me a bit of talking with our friends the Spanners in Burundi. It was interesting to talk to them about culture and they seemed utterly perplexed (as most of the world is) about America's complete fetishization of guns. We had a good time with them and made a plan to meet them the next week at Mama Iringa, an authentic Italian restaurant with an imported pizze oven that made the most Italian pizza in  East Africa (according to them).

The second week felt quite different in the camp. There was a different couple with a young child and grandmother who were working in Dar. There was also a young Swiss couple working in Zanzibar, and there were 2 women from Washington DC who work as policy analysts for an NGO, and a nurse from Moshi. It was a full house so to speak so meal hours were much more lively with conversation. We all studied language during the day as we had the first week, but we all had individual teachers, except for Rebecca and I who shared a teacher. That is one nice thing about the study here, it is tailored to your level. The director of the program would check in daily to be sure that we were satisfied with the quality of the teacher.

We continued to go on outings every day in the afternoon, either to the falls near the river, or bouldering. We also visited another set of natural pillars that was within walking distance of the campsite. They were a bit different and some of them actually created a kind of labyrinth that you could walk into and feel like you would get lost.

We kept up our study as well and created hundreds of flashcards which we did our best commit to memory. This was a great help in increasing our Swahili knowledge. We also learned how to conjugate every way we needed including conditional, subjunctive, past and future perfect and continuous. As well as the negative of all of these. We learned the 7 noun classes and ways to remember the agreements with a table we constructed.

Most evenings, after studying, we played a game in our banda with the kids like 7 Wonders, or King Domino, or San Juan. We also had a flashdrive of movies we used to watch in Burundi and watched some of our old favorites, like Rango & Wallace and Grommit.

Among the really surprising things we found here was how cold it was at night. Iringa is on a high plateau, but we were really unprepared for how cool it was when the sun went down. We needed a heavy blanket to sleep under.

We decided to make the trip back in one day so we packed the Landrover on Friday night and planned to leave at 6am the next morning. It was hard to get up that early but we did it and made the 12 hour trip back listening to The Return of the King from Lord of the Rings, and various music albums. The kids were pretty good considering how long a trip it was. Unfortunatelty the AC quit blowing cool air about an hour into the trip, so we drove across the hot savanah with our windows open and it was hot! We got to Arusha at around 6pm.

We got up and went to church today and then had a treat of watching Black Panther at the theater near our house. It was a good end to 2 weeks away from our normal routine, but now I am ready to get back into it.

Language intensive in Iringa

I’m writing this blog from our campsite near Iringa, a location with very spotty and slow internet. Thus, we will probably not be able to include photos in this blog – it’s hard to upload them. But I’ve managed to post a few photos on Facebook, so if you’re interested look there.

And why are we in Iringa, a town in the south of Tanzania along the TanZam highway (connecting our country with Zambia)? We are spending 2 weeks here, doing intensive Swahili language study at the Iringa Swahili School. True, we have been studying Swahili since September. But we were only ever able to study 4 – 6 hours a week at most, and our classes were inconsistent, due to our own travel and our tutor’s frequent family emergencies. We had gotten through our designated grammar book and were reading short stories in Kiswahili, but we are far from conversant. We just don’t have enough vocabulary, we get the noun classes wrong all the time, and we can’t understand what other people are saying half the time. In my past experience of language learning, it’s good to start at a steady pace and then, once you have enough grammar under your belt, go on to some intensive learning. So, here we are!

Oh, and yes, we have taken the kids out of school to come with us for these two weeks. But, because they are due for a half-term break next week, they are only missing 4 days of regular school. And each of them has brought some work along to complete while we are here.

Iringa is a solid 12-hour drive south from Arusha, and so we elected to drive down in two stages. We’ve lived in Africa long enough to know that it is unwise to drive after dark, and especially perilous to try to find a place at night, when you have never gone there before. Google maps works, kinda sorta, but it tends to become deceptive and misleading off the main roads. Thus, we left by 9 am on Saturday with a fully loaded Land Rover. We knew we would be staying in a cottage (banda) with electricity and bathroom, but beyond that we weren’t sure. We included mosquito nets, lots of sports toys, games, study materials, sheets and towels. I was so proud of myself for thinking of how to bring all that we would need to filter water in-house and make our own fresh coffee in our coffee press, with milk, sugar and tea for good measure. Knowing that the campsite was beside a river, I threw David’s fishing rod on top. 

The first day’s drive was uneventful. We stopped for lunch at one of the road side bus pull-offs, with Swahili food ready-made and laid out in buffet-style (and decent toilets). Paul had made reservations for our family at a renovated old railroad hotel in Dodoma, the official in-process-of-development capital of Tanzania. I’m still trying to figure out the rationale for such a big city in that spot – it is roughly in the center of the country, and that may be its highest recommendation. The hotel was a pretty nice place to stay, with a large paved courtyard garden and fountain, framed on 4 sides by two stories of rooms. We enjoyed a quirky continental dinner and probably the only 30 minutes of the Winter Olympics that we will see this time around on the hotel TV. In the morning, we didn’t need to rush off (the drive to Iringa was less that 5 hours) so we enjoyed a good swim together before getting back into the car.

As we left the hotel, we started looking for a gas station so that we could top up our fuel. We had half a tank of diesel and could easily drive the 300 km on that. But still, it’s better safe than sorry. Strangely, we had quickly left the outer limits of Dodomaand were heading down the road south without seeing a single place to fill up. I checked google maps and saw 3 small towns along our route; we noticed lots of big trucks passing us going north; and we decided to stop sweating and just trust that we would find a gas station down the road. 

The scenery along this road, which bisects the country north to south, was lovely and varied. At certain points, we passed rice paddies. At other places, strange hills cropped up, perhaps moraines from long-melted glaciers. In many areas, green fields stretched away infinitely, dotted with strikingly elegant baobabtrees. At one point, we came to a restricted area where photography was forbidden. It turned out to be a dam and hydroelectric plant below a gorgeous reservoir. Through the drive, we alternated between listening to favorite old children’s music albums and following Frodo and Sam in their miserable journey towards Mordor in the Two Towers. Oh, there was some fighting, too. Some whining about hunger…

…because we had planned to maybe stop for a snack when we got gas. We passed the first town on google maps. It would be kind to call it more than a settlement. We passed the second settlement. We could have probably found kerosene for sale in recycled spring water bottles. But no gas station. Still, we had a quarter tank and only 100 km to go. The road was good and smooth. There were no rest stops, but that was not a problem since we found plenty of deserted bush at hand to use in case of need. And then we realized that we were about to climb up over a hill. The hill turned into spectacular forested mountains. We climbed up and went around switchbacks, admiring the indigenous trees in canopies above the varied undergrowth. We looked down on seemingly endless vistas across the plains to the west. It was truly beautiful and worth driving through…until Paul pointed out that we had burned up an eighth of a tank on the steep ascent. 

And then we had to face the various unpleasant scenarios if we were to run out of gas. Who would go alone to Iringa to get diesel? Who would remain, vulnerable, with the kids and vehicle? Could we plan to pull the vehicle off somewhere more secure? Running out of gas in Tanzania can be a serious problem in terms of security, not merely an inconvenience. We couldn’t believe we had gotten into this situation. Well… you’re reading this now, so you can breathe again. We made it to Iringa and filled up at the first station we reached, with probably a few liters of diesel to spare in the tank. But, that was a lesson learned: there is no source of fuel between Dodoma and Iringa whatsoever. 

On Sunday afternoon, we simply continued through Iringa, a town perched on a rocky escarpment, and it seemed like a pleasant place. We will be back to explore next weekend. But that day, we were eager to arrive at River Valley campsite and get settled. As we heard from missionaries who have come here before us, it’s a nice place and great for kids. The campsite is situated along a narrow stretch of flat land between a river and a line of rocky hills. Many simple stone cottages and outbuildings are interspersed with lawns and places for camping. There’s a great playground, built with local materials and appropriate technology, which our kids have really been enjoying. Even better, quite a few huge boulders have come down the hill long ago and are great for climbing and pretending. 

As we unpacked, I discovered two very sad oversights on my part. I had all the supplies for hot beverages – except the electric kettle! Sadness! So, we will be drinking Africafe (powdered instant coffee) while we are here. And while we had David’s fishing rod, I had forgotten to throw in his little tackle box. He tried to make a hook out of a bent, rusty safety pin, but so far, has not had any bites. For want of a nail…

The language school rents little tiny pavilions at this campsite. Teachers come in from town (20 minutes away) every morning. Right after breakfast (meals are provided by the campground), we just walk a few meters to class. The kids have their own teacher, who has practiced using more play-oriented methods of teaching. All the students and teachers meet up for a tea break at 10:30, we have a chance to check in with our kids. Then we all continue with lessons until 1:30 in the afternoon. Another family (EMM missionaries in Zanzibar) and a single woman are currently studying here, but we all have our own teachers. Paul and I are taught by the same woman, which is fine because it allows for more conversation. We are similar in learning style and level and that has worked well for us so far. In the afternoons, we have time to do our homework and drillflashcards of the vocabulary we have learned for that day. One can’t sit and study indefinitely, so we’ve been taking turns playing with the kids, walking and exploring. So far, after just two days, I can say that this round of intensive study is well worth it. We are returning to ground we’ve covered but didn’t internalize very well, and it’s finally sinking in this time. We can just focus on this learning process and have a predictable schedule to follow. Someone else is making the meals and dealing with practical stuff. We are very, very thankful for this opportunity to concentrate and learn and we hope that it will bear fruit over the next two and a half years here.

Advocacy for Albinos and the Long Road Home

Elia (5) getting a skin screening from Dr. Nelson

 I was writing last week’s blog from a town in Northwestern Tanzania called Tarime where I spent several days observing a training for rural health professionals on caring for people with albinism. The training focused on providing basic information about the genetic causes of the condition (to share with parents especially), prevention of skin cancer, and identification of suspicious skin lesions. The curriculum, which is very thorough, was created by my predecessor and very ably taught by 2 dermatologists here—Dr. Simba and Dr. Nelson. Other presenters included Sister Martha, a woman with albinism, who has been a lifelong advocate for people with albinism.

I was able to hear some of Sister Martha’s story, which she shared in a time of testimony. It was shocking to hear about the level of stigmatization she experienced in her own family—beaten by family members and even sold off, barely a teenager, into a polygamous marriage. She ran away to avoid that fate and was looking for a solution in suicide before she had a life-changing encounter with the love of God. She was eventually able to forgive her family and has been reconciled for many years since.

Dr. Nelson with Sr. Martha showing protective eyewear

It is not unusual for PWAs to be abandoned, especially by fathers who usually assume the birth is a result of infidelity. The training we gave teaches medical professionals how to counsel parents that albinism—a recessive genetic phenotype—can only result with a genetic contribution from both parents. No one is to blame.

Other modules focused on proper training on skin protection, as well as addressing visual problems albino children encounter in school, problems not easily corrected with glasses, which require other accomodations.

I was asked to teach a module on advocacy which I was happy to do and reminded them that advocacy begins with them. They are trusted, educated community members with authority to enforce rights granted by the govt. to people with disabilities, particularly children in school. (Often children with albinism are perceived to be of lower intelligence because their poor vision prevents them from reading the board properly and participating in activities.) I reminded them of their capacity as medical professionals to instruct school administrators to make necessary accomodations for children with albinism. 

Skin screening participants

I also reminded them of the old adage that the primary provider of health care in a family is the mother! It is not someone in a clinic or hospital. “If you educate the mother, she will protect the child from sun exposure and teach him/her to protect themselves.” (It seems strange to have to say that, but often medical treatment will include little or no education or advice.)

Medical professionals practicing
skin screening on Makorere

The training culminated in a free clinic for people with albinism in the area to get a skin exam. More importantly, it was an opportunity for the dermatologists to teach the participants how to do a primary exam of the skin on a person with albinism. We had about a half dozen people show up and were very happy to be ‘guinea pigs’ for the participants to practice on. Dr. Nelson did a demonstration at first, then the participants broke up in groups and examined some of the patients themselves. It seemed to be a very valuable part of the training. Personally, I was very happy to see that the people coming to the clinic were well-covered and generally had very well-cared-for skin. They had been trained on proper care, which is evidence that the effort to educate throughout the nation is having an impact. I am hoping that the 90% fatality rate of people with albinism by age 30 has been substantially reduced in the past decade.

Overview of medical training participants

The practical screening was the last thing we did on the third day of training, after which we packed up and headed back to the town of Musoma, where I would catch the bus back to Arusha. Sister Martha and I stayed at the Mara Paradise Hotel again. This time I was put in a room with ‘airconditioning’. It was a window unit sitting on a desk. When I turned it on, cool air came out the front, but very hot air came out the back because it was not venting out a window. Within about 15 minutes the room was baking hot. I shut it off and decided I was better off without it.

I had to get up about 4 in the morning to get a 5am cab to the bus stop. I had a momentary scare because a different bus company came than the one I had a ticket for. Fortunately they had a ticket for me, as they had switched routes with the other company that day.

The ride was as bad as, if not worse than the ride up. This time it was much more crowded. Every seat was sold, but then they refilled the bus at least once over with standing room passengers in the aisles. So, it was packed to the gills for the 14-hour ride. (I did see a cheetah walking in the distance and multiple hippos as we past through the Serengeti, but that was small consolation for the discomfort.) I was glad to be back, although arriving at Arusha’s main bus stop Stendi Kubwa, is somewhat intimidating as you face an onslaught of cabbies, porters, conmen, and pick-pockets, who are dying to do something for you until you finally get into a cab and drive away, hopefully with all your belongings intact.

Oren helping with dinner during my absence

It was good to be home on Thursday evening. Rebecca and the kids were at a dinner at another house in the compound. There is a monthly ‘team dinner’ for the members of the compound who work with the Joshua Foundation. They are happy to have us join in though. The kids were very happy to have me back as well, although I fell asleep quite early on Thursday and we all went to work and school early on Friday morning. 

Friday, Rebecca and I switched roles with her heading up to the town of Longido to look in on MCC’s SALTer Zoe for the day while I stayed at the office, and was there to meet the kids when they got back from school. Rebecca went with our country director Sharon and was planning to be back by the end of the work day. Her report is here:

The drive to Longido is strikingly beautiful, as you leave Arusha heading north past the western slopes of Mt. Meru. On your right, folds of hills rise up to the mountain. To the left, the land drops off into increasing barrenness. People somehow still live out there to west, but water is scarce and the soil is infertile. In fact, this land was never meant to be lived in. According to a long-time missionary, just 50 years ago, it was only ever visited by roaming herds of wildebeest and zebras, once the rains had fallen and grass shot up. Those animals came, ate the grass, dropped their manure, and left. There were no lasting water sources and so no long-term residents. But then, a well-meaning development organization decided to drill wells. Families settled in the area, bringing their cattle. The cattle ate the new grass, but then they didn’t leave. They stayed, overgrazed and trampled the topsoil. In the dry season, this good soil just blew away, leaving the ground infertile. And what’s more, the fluoride levels in the new wells were incredibly high, causing health problems in the children who drank from them (a common problem around Mt. Meru). When drought struck a few years ago, many families lost their cattle and their livelihoods. Now malnutrition is a huge problem in that area just 30 minutes from Arusha. And it’s hard to see a long-term solution for people who are living in an area where really no one should live.

As we drew near that area, we began to see a strange haze and cloud ahead of us. And then suddenly the wind picked up and we found that we were driving through something of a sand storm. The wind was ferocious coming down from Mt. Meru blowing west and we could just see all the soil that was being picked up and blown away. It was a surprising and sobering reminder of the reality of life there.

Our visit to Longido was primarily to see how our SALT volunteer was adjusting to her assignment. We had a good chance to talk with her and her two supervisors at TEMBO Trust, first over tea and then continuing through the rest of the morning. Along with the work aspects, we were able to meet the director Paulina’s new baby; share some jokes with Mary the community organizer; enjoy lunch at the best (and only) restaurant in Longido; and drop off some healthy groceries for Zoe. It was a lot to do in a fairly short time, so we ended up being a bit late in getting back to Arusha.

Rebecca and Sharon got back a bit after 5pm and the kids were already dropped off at the office. We had a plan for a small Birthday Party for Sharon. Rebecca had made her famous secret chocolate (beets) cake. We had a small gathering at the office at the end of the day. I was also given a cake as my Birthday is this month as well and oddly, as a team we will hardly be together this month because we are all going in different directions over the next 4 weeks. (Including our family).

We had a fairly normal weekend with a low-key day on Saturday. We did get together with some friends for Indian food for dinner. On Sunday Rebecca led music and I taught Sunday school, so we were both quite engaged. The service that day was followed by an annual general meeting of the congregation, which went on several hours. Rebecca was voted onto the church council during the meeting which she is excited about.

We have a single ‘normal’ week, then we will be heading out of town to Iringa (about 8 hours away) for a two week Swahili intensive. The whole family is going so the next entry will be coming from there. (Hopefully we will have an internet connection.)

Finding a Rhythm of Rest and Riding a Rough Bus

Almost paradise

Sometimes I just have to make a small comment about the peculiarity of things I see here, that I don’t see in the US. And this is something that happened often in Burundi. Long story short, I was at a pool in a nice hotel this week (that story coming later). It was quite clean and looked well-maintained except the last 7 feet in the shallow end. The bottom there was pretty dirty and had a lot of dead leaves and debris in it. It seemed like no one vacuumed there. The next morning I saw them vacuuming and noticed that the hose on the vacuum only reached about 5/6 of the way across the pool. So the pool man vacuumed to a certain point and then stopped. I was baffled that no one had thought of replacing the hose, which was a pretty standard pool vacuum hose that is certainly available here or in Dar or Nairobi. But I see this all the time in odd ways. It reminds me of myself in my apartment in college, where I just learned to make-do with whatever condition things were in, even as they deteriorated over time. I don’t know why the management would not replace a cheap hose in an upscale hotel. I used to feel an inclination to ‘right’ the wrong by bringing this to the attention of someone, but I no longer have any compunction. I am learning to make-do with what there is, and not ask questions.

Ilboru grounds

I am currently not in Arusha with the family. I am once again in the lake region about 2 hours north of the town of Musoma in a place called Tarime. It is almost at the Kenyan border. I am here to observe a training MCC is supporting to teach medical officers about how better care for people with albinism by recognizing suspicious skin lesions and refer for patients for treatment.

I have probably said this before, but albino people -- there are several hundred thousand in Tanzania alone -- face stigma and violence. To top if off, until recently, only about 20% survived beyond the age of 30 because they succumbed to untreated skin cancer (basal and squamous cell carcinoma). In recent years, a number of groups have been working to provide families and communities training on how to care for children with albinism. But in a society where everyone is exposed to sun much of the time, it is definitely a cultural challenge, and many cannot even afford luxuries like sun-screen. Our intervention is meant to help strengthen the health care system as even doctors here have not necessarily been trained to adequatelty counsel, treat, or refer, people with albinism.

The most exciting thing that has happened thus far is the bus trip to get here. I had written in a previous blog about the difficultly of getting from Arusha to Musoma. The most common way to go involves a taxi, followed by a shuttle, followed by a flight to a town called Mwanza, followed by a taxi, then a long bus ride to Musoma, and another taxi. I decided to try the more ‘simple’ route of going by bus directly. This involves going through 2 game parks (Ngorongoro and Serengeti) for which I must pay as a foreigner, $100 each way. It also requires getting permits to cross at park offices in Arusha before departing. (otherwise you get left at the park gate to find your way back to Arusha)

The bus left at 6 am on Friday morning so I had to get up around 4. The bus itself looked promising in that it was huge and we sat very high inside. But the seats themselves, 5 across were very narrow and I could not even sit back with the person next to me because our shoulders overlapped. Every seat was taken but no one was standing for the 13 hour trip. I made sure not to drink coffee before departing because there is no bathroom in the bus and few stops except at the park gates.

The trip was about as rough and bad as I could have possibly imagine, mainly because we drove on washboard gravel roads through both parks. What I was not expecting was that when we exited Serengeti park, we did not get on a main road, but instead took a kind of local route through dozens of villages in the Serengeti region on roads that I would have taken for footpaths. It was almost comical to think of a bus-sized vehicle cruising down these little roads (a bit like the ‘night bus’ of Harry Potter fame). But the jarring pain of completely worn out shock absorbers on huge bumps kept me from laughing. When we arrived at 7pm I felt like I had been bludgeoned for hours with a club. One small consolation was that, despite driving at breakneck speed through the Serengeti, I saw a lot of animals, including 1000s of wildebeests, zebra, giraffe, a hippo, wild boar, and a hyena that we almost hit. (I do not recommend this at all as a cheap way to see the Serengeti!)

Sister Martha getting a snack on the road

I was traveling on the bus with a woman named Sister Martha, an albino woman who is a champion of albino rights here in Tanzania. She was also going to the training as a facilitator. She seemed to have weathered the trip better than me, perhaps because she has had to make it many more times than I have. 

We were put up in a hotel in Musoma called the Mara Paradise Hotel. It is a fantastic study in dilapidated grandeur. (Our Country Rep. calls it “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”) Absolutely nothing in my room worked except the lights. BUT upon arrival they provided with glasses of ice cold freshly made avocado juice and tamarind juice. That alone made up for all of its faults.

The following morning we proceeded with Specioza, the project manager for this program (run by the Tanzanian Mennonite Church) to the town of Tarime--by Landrover this time, which felt like a luxury cruiser. We met the 2 dermatologists who were the primary teachers, and settled into our hotel here. Everything works here, but it lacks the charm of the Mara Paradise.

Kids arriving back at school after their trips

That brings me up to the present moment, but events earlier in the week that led up to my departure are worth recounting as well: The past week was an adventure for the kids and a small respite for us (from parenting). St. Constantine school had its annual activities week and both boys went off to a camping trip, Oren to the Usambara mountains and David to Lake Manyara. Oren’s trip was somewhat more demanding beginning with the fact that it was 5 overnights long, during which they were camping in tents by night and doing various service projects and hiking by day. This included a trek through a village to see life there and a day spent at a school for the blind. Getting Oren to the bus at 6am last Sunday was no mean feat and he would happily tell you that he was not in the least bit enthusiastic about going. David left several days later, on a Wednesday morning to go to his camp at Lake Manyara, a safari park.

Erosion on the road near our compound

Because both children were gone until Friday afternoon, Rebecca and I requested 2 days off for a small retreat as a couple. It was quite strange to not have to think about the kids and what they would eat or do every 15 minutes. We took time to reflect on what our priorities would be as a family and what we would work on as far as things like enforcing rules around screen time. We also thought about our giving this year (in terms of tithing) and other home economic issues. We also did some fun things, going out for dinner and a movie on Wednesday evening after work. (About five minutes into "The Shape of Water," we were quite certain that it was a film that we would NOT take the children back to see. An intriguing film, nonetheless.) On Thursday morning, we had time to take a long walk in our neighborhood, outside the gates of our compound -- it's good to explore our surroundings a bit more.

On Thursday afternoon we went to a hotel in town called Ilboro Safari Lodge which is a beautiful place with a nice pool and a Belgian chef. We enjoyed relaxing there and had an excellent dinner and breakfast the following morning. We also had time to reflect quietly and pray very intentionally about the year. It was a much-needed respite together. Even though we had a vacation only recently, it is quite different being alone as a couple rather than a whole family.

The kids got back Friday afternoon and had quite a few stories. Oren actually came back and first words out of his mouth were ‘Never Again.’ But after reflecting with him on the things he did, he admitted that he would have been disappointed and felt left out if he did not participate. Rebecca collected some more details from them here: 

Oren returned from his class trip with mixed feelings. He is definitely not an outdoorsman by nature, and doesn't look forward to hiking and camping. On the other hand, he hiked 20 km over 4 days, including an extra 3 km on the final day. We asked if he got some kind of award for hiking that far, and he answered, "No, it was just for the personal acheivement." He also reported that the hiking was difficult and dangerous and at times, made him start talking about dominos with his classmates, as they walked along narrow trails, presumably with some kind of heights involved. Well, he called it the "cliff walk" so I guess I'm glad they didn't take me along! They did apparently have the reward of some lovely views: we still await the photos from the school staff who were taking pictures. Sadly, it was too rainy to hike to the waterfall they were meant to see and swim in. Maybe some other time we can get there as a family.

Flowers at Ilboru

The class stayed in 3 different campsites over the 5 nights, and Oren told us that he would enjoy going back to the final campsite as a family, if it were not under such stressful circumstances. That was good to hear! One group of students served as the entertainment committee, and on one afternoon, they set up a treasure hunt contest for their peers. Oren's group of boys came in second, and won the prize of 1st turn in the showers. 

Oren was able to share a 2-man tent with his good friend Abraham, and they had a lot of laughs. A cricket visited Abraham's sleeping mat on their last night and sent Abraham squealing into Oren's lap. There was colorful discussion of the options of how to deal with the situation, but it seems that Oren eventually persuaded Abraham that he should be more afraid of Oren than of the cricket.  They had lots of rain over the course of the week, and the school tents weren't perfectly waterproof, but at least their sleeping bags didn't get wet. 

passion flower

Other good moments for Oren included a visit to a school for blind children. He said it was very interesting to watch all the different creative ways those kids can learn. His class then met with the children and sang a song for them. Oren also enjoyed eating the chipsi mayai his classmates cooked on one occasion (french fries glued together with scrambled egg). He appreciated the time of processing and feedback that the staff led on their final day together, including the opportunity to remember all the funny moments of the trip. And finally, Oren astutely observed that the kids who went on the trip together would probably feel closer as a group than the kids who chose to stay home and do service projects during the regular school day. 

David's trip was much shorter -- just two nights away at nearby Lake Manyara national park. The class did several activities -- ride bikes, play a soccer game with a local school -- but apparently David didn't ride (not enough bikes) or play (he's no good at football). He did enjoy seeing wildlife on their game drive through the park, and he even claimed to have seen "a Green mamba on the bus." We were shocked and asked more about this. And he explained that he was on the bus when he saw the green mamba (a large green snake) on a tree outside. Phew! Who knows what he saw! We didn't get too many more details from him, but he seemed to like the trip and wasn't too concerned about sleeping away from home. 

Processing passion fruit

We took both kids to the pool for our Friday evening swim ritual -- very timely in this case as an opportunity for some soaking out the camping grime. And then, after dinner, we needed to head home for an early night. On Saturday, the kids had a little free time, but then the three of us left to help another missionary family move house. I'm not much of a heavy lifter, but at least I could bring a pick up truck and a pot of ham & pea soup for lunch. It was good to be working on this project in good company, and the new home will be great for our friends, espcially all the outdoor space their boys will have. It's hard to live behind walls in a cramped compound with active kids. 

On Sunday, I had to drag the kids with me to church early, because the Sunday school teaching team was meeting to set up a schedule for the new year. It's exciting to be getting involved officially, but also exciting to have someone else in charge of the Sunday school program. I'm still discerning exactly the right ways to be involved in this church, but I think it may end up being only partly with Christian education. After church, we had lunch together, just the three of us, and actually enjoyed very pleasant conversation and some word games as we waited for our food. And, an historical event happened: instead of ordering pizza for lunch, Oren requested a big salad. ;-) And loved it! David and I topped off the afternoon by processing a lot of the passionfruits he has been collecting. I shared several bags with friends, but David's collecting mania and the passionfruit season were equally paired and overwhelming. There were lots of fruits to cut and scoop out!

I (Paul again) was very sad to have to leave the house at 5 am on Saturday morning for a week just after the kids came back. I am looking forward to being back this Thursday but a 14 hour bus ride from hell stands between me and my reunion with the family. There will be a full report in the next installment.