Its Sunday morning and the cab is due at noon. We’re all a bit anxious not really wanting to contemplate saying our goodbyes. I’ve emptied my luggage of all the things I want to leave including some shoes I’ve been wearing all week that will be just great for a student without any. I do a final tour of the dormitory and receive a farewell rendition of the school song by the girls. I wish the 2nd and 4th formers well in their October exams and ask the 3rd formers to help the 2nd formers out as they revise. I let them know I’ll be looking out for the results when they are published in February. I head slowly back to the teachers house chatting with one of the more senior students in the dormitory, another girl called Ester. She’s a very headstrong young lady who chose O’Sambu as a place to attend secondary school as a way to prove to her father and step-mother that she could cope on her own. She is determined to make a way for herself and I tell her I am sure it will happen – because I am. We talk about job prospects and I give her a few tips on writing a CV. Back at the house I find that the TZ flag I purchased has arrived. It’ll be flying on Monday.

Now I’m packed, washed and ready to go when the ladies, two of whom are having their hair braided in the yard by a couple of the guy teachers, decide we need one last meal together. They rush to cook up the last of the veggies and potatoes and we’re just finishing up when the cab bumps its way to our door. With goodbye embraces complete, a few tears from little Janet and my much-reduced luggage loaded Mumbray, Rachel and myself clamber aboard. It’s a somber ride back to Arusha brightened up by a call from Mumbrays fiance. He’s a happy man.

Rafiki

With less than a day remaining in TZ to finish up a few last pieces of business and round out my notes on my journey this is where this incredible month ends. I’ve had the trip of a lifetime (again!) and enjoyed sharing it in this blog. I’ve gained a much deeper, more intimate understanding of Tanzanian life and culture. I’ve made some wonderful new friends and shared time with some very special people. I’m amazed at the steadfastness of the average person here, determined that come what may they will work hard and help others to help themselves. And honestly I can hardly wait to return to this land of hope and opportunity, to watch it take another few steps towards self-reliance and a better future. Its coming Tanzania. Your time is coming.

Thank you all for taking the time to read my blog and to staff at GPFD for making the trip possible and helping me post the blog. I hope it has inspired some of you to travel with us and experience some of these amazing things first hand in 2011. For anyone interested to dialog on any of my blog topics or for information on how you might get involved in the work of Global Partners for Development please contact me at jackyv@strategic21.com or contact the organization direct at info@gpfd.org. Asante Sana.

Today Madame Rachel and I forego our chores and head off with Ester to see Ester’s Mum Nia at their home just one village away. We arrive to some serious commotion and it soon becomes apparent that a small boy (Ester’s cousin) has fallen from a tree and seriously hurt himself. A man is carrying him to the road and a dala dala is waved down to rush him to the nearest clinic, fortunately only a few miles away. Ester is very distressed but calms once she has spoken with her mother. Nia welcomes us to her home and we spend a good hour just chatting, with Madame Rachel translating. Last time she was very timid as was I and I didn’t like to ask a lot of questions, but this time she seemed really comfortable as I quizzed her about her family, her home, her work and her aspirations.

Clockwork radio

I congratulate her again on taking the time to attend evening school at the age of 36, some 20+ years after her father had as she explains “sold her for cattle he had already eaten” – the dowery system is still in place today. I’ve brought a few small gifts and am really pleased with the reaction from Ester’s younger brother Simone as he accepts the clock-work, solar-panel powered radio I’ve been using throughout my journey. He listens attentively when Madame Rachel translates how it works and then with the biggest grin ever he demonstrates it to his younger brother. Mum Nia sees the joy in her hard working 11 year old child’s face. I see a young engineer in the making. I gratefully receive a bangle for myself, a small Maasai cross for my sister Sue who had been with me last time I visited, and a Kanga for my Mum Esther in who’s honor I had originally sponsored young Ester. It is a very special moment I shall cherish for a long time.

Nia gives us a plate of pilau and a bottle of cold Fanta each as refreshments. After a quick tour of her small holding containing one bull, one cow and one calf plus a clutch of chicks we walk a short distance to the shamba where Nia had leased some land last year to grow carrots, a renowned crop in this region. She pulls a handful for us to take with us and explains that she had to give up the lease because last years drought killed all her crop. She is now broke again and living hand to mouth trying to feed, cloth and school her 5 children single handedly. What a remarkable woman. Despite her misfortunes and dire circumstances she’s been able to find time and money to give us gifts and feed us. I am inspired and vow to do what I can to help her and her family find a way to self-reliance. Sponsoring Ester through secondary school would appear to be just the beginning.

Shamba Carrots

Back at the school house the ladies and I reflect on the shear strength of people like Nia all across rural Tanzania, determined to give their kids a better life than they have and working hard all hours to make it happen. We also discuss the challenges of not creating dependency in individuals and communities, something my British colonial ancesters were guilty of.

After our last dinner together I exchange gifts with each of my new friends: some jewelry for each of the ladies, a teddy bear for Janette and a reading light and toiletries for Sara. I receive a host of gifts from them including traditional Maasai jewelry, my own Kanga and a beautifully carved ebony bowl. Its been an amazing week, we’ve learnt a lot from each other, from the trivial to the critically important. We’ve had a great cultural exchange. We’ve learnt a few more words of each others language. Most importantly, we’ve formed new solid friendships that will stay with us where ever we go.

OIKOS office

My last school day. The week has just flown by. Mr. Sadi invites me to say a few words at the school parade and I choke up babbling something about taking pride in all you do. The students let out a whoop when they hear from Mr. Sadi they will soon have a new flag. I’m invited to return to the school anytime I like “perhaps for a month next time”. “Maybe I will” I think. “Thank you” I say.

I gradually recover my composure and head to the teachers office to meet with Mr. Mumbray my host who, although on study-leave from the school to finish up his degree in rural community development, has made arrangments so that he can spend some of the week with me at O’Sambu.

Clean water dispenser

We talk about many things: my experiences at the school, the projects currently being proposed to GPFD for funding, his forthcoming marriage and what that will mean for his own future at O’Sambu. Mumbray has proven to be a talented and determined guy. Someone who continues to make a difference at the school, even when he is not in attendance as a teacher. And because of this he has earnt the respect of the teachers and students. I try, but I’m sure fail, to express adequate gratitude for the chance to spend so much time at the school. We agree that everyone can do something to support the needs of the students here and elsewhere, that there are many different ways it can be done and that we’ll continue to strive together to do the right thing for the long term success of the school. I could not have asked for a better host.

After a quick lunch of rice and spinach Mumbray, Mr. Sadi and I take a walk to the local OIKOS office in Oldonyos market square, next to the Ward Executive Office, a kind of mini-townhall. We meet with the OIKOS leader Mateo and get a tour of the high efficiency locally-made ovens and water dispensers his organization is teaching locals to make and see the small Jatropha growing training ground they have set up. Working with 15 womens cooperatives and several schools in the area, OIKOS has determined that the region is well suited to renewable energy sources such as solar and biomass and are working to realize the possibilities. After 2 years in the region, their biggest challenge is finding local people with enough practical skills to start and run small-businesses installing panels and building ovens. The need for academic achievement has been clear to this point. The need for practical skills development for the less academically oriented, through apprenteships or technical colleges in the region has just become blindingly obvious.

Children carry tap water

Mumbray and Mateo discuss the tentative proposal for solar panels on the dormitory at O’Sambu and arrange to have their technician visit the school and provide a quotation. With business concluded we head back on foot to the school. The ladies are awaiting our return and after a quick bucket shower, I join them for dinner. Madame Regina is very proud as I mention the Jatropha saplings we saw today, that she had been tending yesterday. She then tells me that each student at O’Sambu had been “given” one and was responsible for watering it every day – which explains the half-acre plot of land with saplings every 2 feet or so I had been walking past all week on the way to class.

Chemistry practical

Today’s classes include a practical chemistry class. It takes a while for the 100+ students to get themselves and their chairs arranged in the lab designed for 40. A student has already copied a diagram from the curriculum text book onto the board – a very similar teaching technique to when I was at school in the UK a millenia or so ago. The equipment is limited but Mr. Okinyi is very determined. He works with the class to set up 4 sets of equipment so that everyone can at least see what is happening. The experiment to see how acid and alkaline work together doesn’t actually work as the materials are out of date and have lost their potency. However, the kids at least get to see some practical chemistry in action and I can see a few who are really interested in what was supposed to happen – scientists in the making I think!

After break I get chance to talk with Mr. Sadi who is keen to hear my impressions of the school and to share ideas about how to leverage the opportunities that exist and to explore new ones. Our discussion is open, honest and very productive. I express my desire to see more English spoken between teacher-to-teacher and teacher-to-student similar to other schools I visited in the area. I also share with him my belief that the most important thing teachers can do is encourage the students and their fellow teachers to grab every opportunity with both hands and to be proud of what they can achieve together in such difficult circumstances. He laughs out loud as I mention the school flag looking so “tired” and explains that its not a priority given so many shortages in other areas including money for cleaning materials and sufficient food for the students.

Jatropha saplings

He totally gets my point that a national flag is a sign of pride and accepts my offer to replace it. If it inspires one student to go the extra mile in their studies its another $30 well spent. Personally I hope it’ll inspire teachers and students alike to give their very best.

Another session in the computer lab finishes off another enjoyable and fulfilling day. Regina returns having spent the past 2 days learning from OIKOS how to grow Jatropha, a plant that is some-what tolerant to harsh dry conditions and bears fruit that after a few years can be harvested and turned into an alternative for diesel oil. It can also be used to make a soap that has extremely good anti-bacterial properties. She shares some of her experience with me and it gets me thinking about income generating opportunities not only for the school but for small-holdings in the area.

Women teacher's house

Brrrr, its chilly today. The sky last night was awesome. It was so clear that for the first time ever I actually saw the milky way in all its wonder with stars visible almost to the horizon. That made me feel pretty humble at 2am I can tell you!

Today I’m taking a quick trip to the neighboring primary school which educates over 1000 pupils, only about a quarter of which pass the Standard 7 exams sufficiently well to go on to secondary school. I attend a mathematics class with a Standard 2 class of 8+ year olds which helps me brush up on my Kiswahili numbers. I then meet with Mr. Limo, the head teacher and he explains that most of his class sizes are between 100 and 200, not the 45 max that the TZ government has committed to achieve. It seems that in dry years when the harvest is bad, school attendance drops dramatically as parents have no way to provide even the basics of uniform and fees. In better years attendance climbs but parents still struggle to contribute to the community-school’s expansion. Without strong community-wide support for education from village chair-person to all the parents needing their services, this isn’t going to change. I return to the secondary school a little despondent.

Dry side of mount Meru

After some thought, I conclude that with resources so scarce it will probably be a generation before the full impact of 12 laptops can be seen in this community. How fantastic to play just a small part in making that happen. Being a hopeful optimist I’m cheered on by this thought and spend the rest of my day working with the OIKOS teacher to train the primary and secondary school teachers who have arrived for their weekly lesson in computing.

The day is rounded off cooking chipattis with Madame Rachel and hearing her opinions about the importance of sufficient teacher housing at rural community schools to encourage teachers to stay. There are only 8 qualified teachers at O’Sambu plus an additional 8 “sixth-form leavers” waiting for their exam results before potentially pursuing a teaching career. It seems that several good teaching candidates decided to forgo their government teaching posts to Oldonysoambu this year because of the harsh conditions, choosing as an alternative to wait for an opportunity to teach at a private school on better wages and in much better conditions.

Classroom

Up with the cockerels today. It exhausting just getting prepared to go to class. Water to collect and boil, bucket-washes for everyone, breakfast to prepare, dishes to wash, floors to clean, child to dress, shoes to clean. It’s a small miracle anyone gets to school by 8am.

After parade, its straight to the computer lab. This will probably be my most significant contribution while I’m here so I’m keen to help out as best as I can each morning. After break I attend Madame Rachel’s Kiswahili class studying literature. She’s a very dramatic teacher. It gives her a chance to show her more exuberant side to the students. The kids love it and participate eagerly in the role-plays she has set for them.

Heating water

I spend my afternoon attending an English class and then get chance to quiz some of the teachers over lunch about the English language difficulties I’m seeing amongst the teachers and the students.  It would appear to be a national challenge. The TZ government require primary school students to be taught in Kiswahili with English only taught as a subject in their curriculum. When students move up to secondary school they are supposed to (miraculously?) know enough English (the official language of education and government business) to be able to study maths, physics, civics, geography etc. Everyone knows it’s a problem.

The communities fresh water tap

The private schools in TZ use English all the way from the beginning and therefore offer their students a far greater chance to excel in their exams. So why doesn’t the TZ government do the same? The answer appears to be that there are insufficient teachers, particularly teachers fluent in English to teach in secondary schools leaving only non-english speaking teachers to teach in primary schools. It’s a challenged being faced head on it seems, with more government resources being spent on teacher training programs, but it’ll be years before the chicken-and-egg circle has been broken for the low income community schools, further limiting communities like Oldonyosambu from adequately educating its residents so that they can begin lifting themselves out of poverty.

Its 6am and I can hear running water. That’s a good thing. The municipal water tap is just a few yards from the teachers house. This means there’s fresh drinking water today so the kitchen staff can make porridge for the dormitory girls and the locals can refill their fresh water buckets.

By 7:45am breakfast is done, we’re all washed and dressed and on our way into school. Students are finishing up their cleaning duties clearing dust and leaves from the walk ways and cleaning as best they can the class rooms and latrines before school starts.

School parade

At 8am each day a student inspection is held. Proceedings begin with the school song “God bless Africa, God bless Tanzania” while the Tanzanian flag is raised. The scout leader directs proceedings and the second master Mr. Sadi shares a few words with the students, encouraging them to work hard today and make the most of their chance for learning in the coming week. He offers a generous welcome to me and explains that I will be a guest at the school all week.

We can all see the kids are tired from their long walks to school, many will not have eaten since yesterday lunch time and some of them are wearing a hotch-potch of school uniform pieces handed down no doubt from elder siblings. Even the national flag is tired and torn from the relentless dusty wind blowing through the school grounds. Its going to be extremely interesting to see just how you keep this many kids, over 1000, engaged in learning when educational resources are so scarce.

Computer lab

I’ve been asked by Mr. Sadi to help out in the new computer lab. There are 12 laptops (and a solar panel) that were recently donated by another NGO called OIKOS. Mr Sadi is the lead computing teacher and has himself only been using computers since April. He is clearly a fast learner and a very competent teacher.  Each student is getting a chance to break out of their normal curriculum lessons and learn the basics of computing: how to switch it on, use a keyboard and mouse and how to prepare and save a word document. Pretty simple but a huge task with 1000+ students and all the teachers to be taught. Within minutes I start buzzing round the class of 30 students helping those that are lagging behind to catch up and making sure everyone gets a chance to do something for themselves, rather than just watching others. Most of what I’m doing is by sign language and sketches on the board. Ever tried describing how to use a mouse without using words? It’s a blast. We’re all having fun. Before I know it their 40 minutes lesson is over and the next group arrive to take their turn.

After the mid morning break when teachers take some tea and a chapatti from the kitchen I head off to observe my first lesson. Madame Happy is teaching geography and I’m really very pleasantly surprised at how engaged and eager to learn the majority of the students are. Its fair to say the conditions for teaching are unsatisfactory: not enough chairs, students sitting on the legs of overturned desks, there being 100+ students in each class, many without note books or pens and for me – most disturbingly – the lessons being taught mainly in Kiswahili, rather than English, the language in which the students will have to take their exams. Despite these poor conditions any thoughts I had that education is not truly appreciated by the students receiving it are banished. In just one morning I have seen a great deal of opportunities for improvement and I can begin to imagine the huge leverage that comes from overcoming some of the obstacles faced by schools such as this.

The rest of my school day is spent back in the computing lab with more students and a handful of teachers eager to learn the basics of a skill that until April they had not even hoped to be able to develop.

Unsurprisingly, after a day in a classroom, I’m quick to wash and eat and I’m asleep before my head hits my pillow.

Path to school

I’ve been invited to attend church with Ester today. It’ll be my first time inside an African church. Its Anglican so should seem fairly familiar. Despite being a non-believer it’ll be an interesting experience for me. Some of our group are Catholic and they will attend their own church service nearby. Ester, her best friend Opendo and I make our way into the church where we meet her Mum Nia. We cram ourselves into a packed pew, squeezed in among family and friends each wearing their Sunday best. Some of the womens dresses are very elaborate with matching head scarves wound creatively around their heads making them appear a foot taller. The men are wearing business suits or smart shirts and slacks and amazingly shinny shoes. The service is long and lively with plenty of opportunities for prayer, singing and also – as you might expect in Africa – some serious dancing in the pews. Partway through I’m joined by a young man called Jackson, who translates the reading for me.

School grounds

His English is excellent and he’s very familiar with the passages and verses. At one point new-comers are asked to identify themselves and say a few words. After a gentle nudge from Jackson, I conjure up my best Kiswahili for the congregation “Jina langu ni (my name is) Jacky, I am from California visiting my rafiki (friends), asante sana (thank you very much)”.

Preparing Vegetables

To my surprise I receive a huge applause and a big grin from the vicar. That never happened in an English Anglican church from my recollection! Jackson is clearly pleased. After much coming and going, in and out of the pews, with various folk taking their turn to share their stories or join the choir or walk down the aisle to make their offering the service comes to an end with a rousing chorus. I’ve no idea what they were all singing but it was pretty rousing stuff. We say our goodbyes to Esthers extended family, shake hands with the vicar and head back to the school.

After helping to prepare a simple late lunch I decide to walk the school grounds to meet a few more of the dormitory girls and try to map out the school buildings and resources. Regina and Ester join me and we spend the next couple of hours walking and talking about the week to come as well as the opportunities and challenges of living in a place like this. I’m ready for my week at Oldonyosambu.

laundry scene

Saturday. A day of relaxation and….oh no. That’s not what Saturdays are for here. Its chore day. After a simple breakfast of bread, marmalade and tea we each gather up our laundry and an empty plastic bucket or bowl and make our way along a half-mile dusty dirt track to a water holding tank that receives flouride water from the nearest hillside. This is water that should not be drunk due to excess level of flouride that causes severe bone distortion and tooth damage as well as other medical problems. This open-top tank / trough combo is the main source of water for cleaning, washing and irrigating crops as well being the primary drinking water for local cows, bulls and goats. When the single municipal water line is broken, which occurs fairly frequently this far from town, this becomes the only water source in the area and in desperate situations locals do in fact resort to drinking and cooking with this unclean and unsafe water.

The long road to market

As much as this is hard work, trying to get dusty clothes clean in relatively unclean water, my new friends have a way of making it fun. They sing as we scrub. They laugh hard at my feeble attempts to avoid having my clothes trampled by a thirsty bull en-route to the trough. The local women who come to wash alongside us are fascinated by this smiling white woman balancing on-top of the water tank struggling to fill her bucket from the inlet pipe without dropping it or falling in. The young girls do it with such ease.  A deaf-mute lady signs that she is very happy to see me. I return the compliment with a big smile and a wave from the top of the tank.

After an hour or so at the water tank we are done. I’m already exhausted. It’s a shot walk back to the house, wet laundry balanced in buckets on our heads or in bowls on our hips. I choose the hip option not wanting to drop it all en-route. By the time we arrive we are dusty again! We hang our laundry out to dry, wash our feet and legs, and prepare to walk to the local market to buy the weeks provisions. Its about a 2.5 mile walk – across a field of ripened maize and then onto the tarmac road into Oldonyos town.

Market day is a fascinating view of Maasai tradition. Mainly selling staples, the majority of sellers and customers wear clothes made of traditional Maasai cloth. Plenty of people have brought their goods to sell, carrying them on their heads in small sacks or in weaved baskets or transporting the larger items on the back of donkeys. One young man has a small herd of goats he is attempting to coral onto a small grass patch at the side of the stalls. People are coming and going and the Dala-dalas (buses) are busy.

Maize on the cob

After trying out some freshly cooked maize (char-grilled corn-on-the-cob) and acquiring our provisions we jump into an almost empty Dala-dala and await its departure. I have no idea how we knew it was going our way as there are no signs or lines and just a higgledy-piggledy mass of vehicles and people. It’s a good 20 mins before we are fully loaded with everything from bags of charcoal to maize to a live goat (yes, seriously!) and the 20+ passengers we’ve managed to squeeze in. It’s a short ride for us back to the O’Sambu dirt track where we off-load ourselves and our goodies and begin our walk back to the school. Ester and Sara, remarkably, carry our large sack of charcoal for the entire distance AND make it look easy. I can hardly lift it.

Carrying purchases

Back at the house its time to prepare a lunch of potatoes and veggies into something like soup. We all do our bit to prepare, cook and clean up afterwards and then I excuse myself for a short rest. I awake to find we have been invited to tea at Mrs Limos. She’s the wife of the Primary School headmaster and lives just a short walk away.  She’s making a stack of chapatti’s with her daughters when we arrive and invites us to eat. Delicious! No need for dinner tonight although my hosts are convinced I’m not eating enough.

The day finishes with us sitting around the dining table, some on chairs, some on upturned buckets watching a music DVD on a small TV at what can only be described as full volume. The ladies and several of the dormitory students who have come to help clean up – and in return get a chance to watch the telly for a bit too – really make the most of this time of day when electricity from the diesel engine allows them to forget their troubles and sing along to the likes of Mariah Carey, Michael Jackson and a myriad of really talented Tanzanian pop-stars I’ve never heard of.

Today is the day. After a relaxingly slow start I pack my things and say my goodbyes to the GPFD team of travelers over a plate of curry at the Bamboo cafe. By 1:00pm I am joined by Mr Mumbray and Ms Rachel Milaky my two hosts at Oldonyosambu and by Mr Mshana, the ultra-reliable cab driver I’ve arranged to take us out to the school.

A feast with friends

Our first stop is the book shop to collect a box of English text books that my Mum asked me to give to the school. They’ll supplement the few that they have already. Then its time to buy provisions for my stay. Rachel and I grab a shopping cart and walk around Shoprite (incredibly similar to Ralph’s or Tesco’s) gathering the usual supplies. I’m not sure what to buy. Eventually I settle on the basics of tea bags, fruit juice, long-life milk, eggs and some baked beans (its an English thing!). We also buy some bread, a big bag of rice and another of dry beans. That’s the staples done. Now off to the central market for fruits and veggies.

It’s a Friday, not a typical day for tourists to be wandering around the market place. We soon draw a crowd of children hoping to sell us a few carrier bags, along with several street-wise young men just looking to banter with us as they wait for stall-holders to hire them to carry sacks of grain to and from the market square. Rachel takes it all in her stride as she negotiates prices for spuds, green beans, carrots, tomatoes, bananas, apples and root ginger with each of the mainly women sellers. After 30 mins we’ve acquired a tonne of food for less than 30,000 TSh (about $20).  We ferry it back to the cab and then it’s a short walk around the back of the huge market to the store that sells bottled Kilimanjaro water. Its about the only thing I’m really strict with, as I know I’ll get as sick as a dog if I drink unboiled local water, even the town-filtered stuff.

As we wait for the cab to come around to collect us, we take a seat at a street stand where a young man called Raymond is polishing shoes for 500 Tsh (40 cents a pair). Since its his bench that I’m sitting on its only right to have Mumbray’s shoes shined while we chat.  Raymond kindly helps us load our shopping into the cab and off we go to our next stop, a small cleaning supplies store just out of town. I’ve asked Mumbray if I can buy a bar of soap and a toilet roll as a simple yet practical gift for each of the girls living in the dormitory. I remember both being pretty scarce last time. The cab is now packed to the gunwalls. Thank goodness Mshana is so accommodating. With loo rolls piled high on our laps we head out of town along the Nairobi Road to Oldonyosambu Secondary School.

Major upgrading to the road means the journey is slow, bumpy and very dusty as we get diverted almost every mile off the new tarmac and onto what can only be described as a wide ditch. I’m amazed that this cab, let alone the 1000s of other vehicles driving along here can survive the journey. At O’Sambu it gets worse. We turn off the tarmac onto an old dirt track that due to the dryness is a combination of fine dust, thick sand and deep gullys. Mshana negotiates the route with super skill in his Toyota Camry (I don’t think I could get a dirt-bike down here without falling off!) and we finally arrive at the women teachers’ house at the edge of the school property.

Two bedroom teacher housing

With off-loading done, and return journey arranged, Mshana departs around 4pm and I get to meet the other ladies I’ll be staying with.  There’s Happy, Regina and Rachel, all teachers in their early 20’s, Sara a 13 year old form 2 student and Janet, a shy 5 year old who is Regina’s niece and attends the primary school next door. Ester, a 16 year old girl that my family sponsors and who lives in the school dormitory with 200 other girls is also at the house helping with chores. All apart from Janet speak a little conversational English, so I can relax and begin to absorb my surroundings.

To my pleasant surprise I recognize our first visitor: Its Ester’s Mum Nia who is attending QT (adult educational classes) at the school. This is fantastic news. Somehow she’s managing to do evening classes and raise a family of 5 kids with the little income she earns as a day-laborer at local shambas (small holding farms). We met last year at her home when she was extremely shy and bashful. She speaks her first English to me. I stumble through some Kiswahili greetings still stunned that she’s learning English. We both laugh. Life is good when you can connect with someone from such different circumstances.  We promise to visit Nia at her home next weekend.

The day winds to a close as the ladies turn their attention to preparing dinner and heating enough water on their charcoal fire for each of us to take an outdoor bucket-shower. The sun sets around 6:30pm and out come the torches until the diesel engine kicks in at 7:30pm. We all sit at a central table in the small living area inside the house, getting to know each other and eating the tastiest stew of vegetables and rice I’ve had in a long while.  Before lights-out I erect my mosquito-net and sleeping bag on my half of the bed I’ll be sharing with Sara. The 3 ladies organize themselves to sleep in the other bedroom which also has only one, albeit enormous bed. At 10pm the diesel shuts off, lights are out and we are all tucked up after what for me has been my first taste of rural Tanzanian living. I fall asleep in pitch darkness, torch under my pillow, hoping I can find my way to and from the choo (outdoor latrine or “drop” toilet) tonight without waking up the entire school!