Lets Start Digging

Digging a pit latrine is no easy task.
Before I divulge into the details, I’d like to spend a few moments regarding public transport in Tanzania. After doing a bit of traveling these past few weeks both to meet other trachoma researchers and to volunteer with Engineers Without Borders, I have had many dreadful bus rides. The further you are from the main highways, of which there are three; one that runs north to Kenya, one up to Dodoma in the center, and another south to Zambia and Malawi, the more adventurous the ride becomes. The photo is of the local transport in the Usambara Mountains where I stopped to visit a family I lived with in 1999. Limited on time, I decided to bike through the mountains rather than hike to their village. On more than one occasion I thought I might die of exhaustion but “Mungu akipenda”-god willing, I survived.

Besides the fact the bus never leaves on time, the price is always higher for a “mzungu”, a seat could mean a soda crate or a bag of maize, and the bus actually reaching the destination without a breakdown is miracle, there are the crazy drivers. The most notable include the man that was smoking weed while passing a double-container lorry going up a hill, the fellow that ran personal errands along the route stopping for mangoes, fish, charcoal, a chat with old friends, to smoke a cigarette, and of course to go to the bathroom, and finally there was the ungentleman that insisted that for any bag over 1 kg (which by my rough calculation meant all the bags on the bus) there was an extra $5 fee. The fee of course only applied to white passengers, of which I was the only one.

The highlight of the past few weeks has been the time spent in Ngelenge Village, on the shores of Lake Nyasa (or Lake Malawi). The village is a 2 to 4 day trip from Dar es Salaam (depending on your mode of transport of course) and set in the most picturesque surroundings. There is the deep, blue fresh lake (the 3rd largest in Africa with a depth of 700 meters and a length of 560 kilometers), the Livingstone Mountains, and without any major road or city for hundreds of kilometers one really feels as if they are on the edge of the world. The first photo is of the mighty Ruhuhu River which is crossed either by canoe, or when you have a 4 ton lorry full of cement and lumber as we did, by a human powered ferry. The next photo is of Lake Nyasa, which is full of delicious fish, crocodiles, and even hippos.

I, along with a number of energetic folks, have been volunteering on a water/health project in Ngelenge since 2004. The project was initiated by the villagers themselves who created their own development NGO (NGEDEA) with assistance from relatives in Dar es Salaam. Engineers Without Borders (EWB) joined the team in 2005 and we have been sending volunteers there every 6 months. To learn more check out: www.ngedea.org or http://www.ewb-sfp.org/projects/tanzania/current.html.

The agenda this trip was largely to finish the health dispensary which the villagers are building themselves and to assist with the other projects including a gardening/irrigation project, improved water distribution scheme, a pilot filter project, and a new initiative on improved latrines. The days were full and included lots of sweaty but energizing labor. After realizing my weak arms were no match for the burly village men digging the pit of the dispensary latrine, I stuck to the paint team. The NGEDEA members, both those living in the village and those I traveled with from Dar es Salaam, were incredible at enlivening the villagers to assist with the efforts. Even the little kids helped! Sadly the local government is mostly trained in sitting under the mango tree and talking, talking, and talking.

In addition to the funds that EWB raised, Ngelenge was fortunate to have two local groups from Spencer, Iowa (PEO Women’s Chapter and Rotary) raise money for the dispensary latrine and the new latrine initiative. Since 2004 NGEDEA-EWB has nearly completed the dispensary, dug three wells, and initiated improved water handling practices, such as modifying home water containers with a tap (see photo) rather than having kids stick their dirty hands in the water to obtain a drink. However, there has been little effort to improve sanitation, which is fundamental for improving health.

A health survey done by an epidemiologist in 2006 found that 59% of the households are affected by diarrheal disease and 35% by trachoma. Although the villagers have expressed their interest in building improved latrines to reduce smells, improve cleanliness, and “modernize”, due to lack of resources and encouragement there have not been any latrine efforts in the village. The aim of the current initiative is to provide educational materials and seminars on the links between sanitation and health, offer technical training to local villagers who will assist in building the latrines, and establish a latrine revolving fund managed by the village latrine team. Villagers will pay for the full cost of the latrine, yet over an extended period (2 years) when money, such as during harvest season, becomes available. While in the village I trained the newly formed latrine group in accounting procedures (see photo), evaluating current latrines and monitoring progress on building future latrines, and provided educational materials in preparation for the hygiene and latrine technical seminar that will be given by Tanzanian sanitation experts in the village in January.

The most challenge aspect having villagers utilize the revolving fund will be to overcome the legacy of outsiders “giving donations”. In the past, Tanzanian latrine projects only required villagers to dig the latrine pit, and provide the materials for the latrine superstructure. However, the cement slab floor and other purchased materials were donated. Current thinking by international NGOs, such as WaterAid, and the Tanzanian Government is that subsidizing latrines is not sustainable and erodes local empowerment. Furthermore when latrines are subsidized it limits the number of latrines that can be built as funds are never sufficient to build one for every household in the village.

Finally, I could not leave the village without making rice krispie bars. There were a hit when I was there in 2005 and once again the village women eagerly ate the sweet, sticky mash of goo. There were also amazed at how quickly they can be made, considering the the hours it takes to harvest cassava, dry cassava, pound cassava, boil cassava with water, and finally obtain ugali for eating. The wonders of packaged food!

As I said farewell to Ngelenge I was quite certain it would not be my last visit. Perhaps I can even do a bit of research there in the future. And the villagers too reminded me “karibu sana tena”, you are most welcome again.

Ngelenge Women

They remembered I like my tea with just a bit of sugar;
taught me how to sing songs about traveling, love, and loss
stayed up late working and rose early to work again
truthful and honest with each other
showed me beads they use to excite their husbands, then gave me some
ate only after everyone else was fed
complained bitterly and then laughed with joy
wrestled like giggling children for the remaining bite of fish
waited, but were never idle; always a task to do
braided hair, wove mats, peeled cassava, and planned for tomorrow
spoke with strong voices
let the light in the hearts shine
wore only skirts, even to swim
walked with a straight, tall back
They loved. They accepted. They lived.

"Quick Wins" Take a Long Time

Greetings once again from Tanzania. The team and I finally finished the report and visited all the villages in which we worked to report back on the results. Each of us took a topic from the research...latrines, water, flies, economic development, and had fun with markers and big pads of paper. In general the basic statistics on the 700 surveys we conducted were quite interesting:

-Water: The Tanzanian National Target in line with the UN MGDs is to ensure that 65% of rural individuals have access to "improved" water within 30 minutes of their home. What we found:

"Improved"-62% (Dry Season), 50% (Rainy Season)
Within 30 min-11% (Dry Season), 25% (Rainy Season)

As it turns out the access to water is still terribly low. Safe water, especially in the rainy season when villagers prefer the fresh-water natural ponds (i.e. big pools of water full of cow crap) the precentage with access to improved water decreases.

-Latrines: The government target for rural areas is 95% access to latrines and we found that the actual number is quite close to this at 88%. Yet the conditions are quite appalling. Of course I could have told someone that without doing the survey based on my own experiences. Encountering a family of goats living inside one latrine along with several latrines "full to brim" quickly come to mind. According to our rankings based on use and health benefits:

<1%:Modern, improved with Vent Pipe

19%: Improved, but O&M not completely sufficient

80%: Poor latrines or no latrines at all

The lesson here is that much more effort needs to be put into educating people about the importance of latrines and providing tools/knoweldge to assist in building and maintaining latrines. One can build a high, quality, easy to clean latrine for $30 or less. One idea we are exploring is a establishing a Latrine Revolving Fund where villages give an initial contribution and then slowly over 2 years pay back all the materials. The purchases items are basicially just a bag of cement for the floor and a vent pipe. The rest of the materials are all locally available such as clay-burnt bricks, grass for the roof, and cloth for the door.

-Hygiene: Hygiene also demonstrate an area that could definitely be improved. For example:

-50-98%,depending on the village, had feces within 10 meters of their home (watch where you step)

-53-82%, depending on the village, did not have a garbage pit...which means the garbage is strewn about which makes for very happy flies and hence possiblity of transmitting disease.

We had to be creative about where we presented. As the photos demonstrate we used classrooms, taped paper to the side of buildings, and the most effective was the "mobile classroom" which involved us using the side of the car. A local artist illustrated methods by which to prevent trachoma which we distributed. At least they could look at something if they tired of our faces. Besides discovering the Tanzanian markers last for about 2 minutes before they run out of ink, we learned quite a bit, including "Quick Wins take a long time." Quick Wins is actually a project funded by the African Development Bank to alleviate immediate shortages of water in rural areas before longer term solutions can be implemented. Two of the villages in which we worked were selected to obtain Quick Win money in early 2007. One village did receive the money and the well so I suppose 50% is not bad. Meanwhile the other village decided to sit-down right then and there and write a letter to the Deputy Minister of Water in Dodoma articulating their commitment (water fund, water committee, etc) and inquire about when the Quick Win might happen. Hence we added another task to our list for the day....rural post service.

Now the big challenge awaits...the in-depth analysis , paper writing, and dissertation.... I guess I should start saying my prayers.

Haiku for Laughter

Spontaneously

Two hearts decide to converse

Laughter says so much.

Roadside Market

They sat brilliantly

neatly arranged by the seller

as if there was nothing more important

than placing one tomato

on top of another

we all do it with our own lives

placing fruits on top of fruits

hoping to hide the blemishes;

if ever asked a price

it would be impossible to

account for all the labor,

the love,

and this is how we go on

planting, tending, harvesting,

and simply hoping there

will be sweetness at the

end of each day.

African Cake

The day of African cake began like any other. The birds starting singing at 5:30, then the roosters started squawking at 5:45 and finally at 6:00 you could here the children and mothers humming as they walked to the well or community tap or broken pipe sticking out of the ground, all the typical places people obtain water in the bustling town of Kongwa. We just finished collecting our data in our last village on water, sanitation, and trachoma (where the photo shows myself with Ester, Peter, two of my assistants, along with some villagers). It was time to celebrate. Of course the report, final fly experiments, and presentation of results to the villagers remain but the African cake was just waiting to be eaten.

We drove to the nearby village, Mlanga to pick up our cake, or rather our goat. She was not happy about riding in the pickup and tried to jump out several times. Her prayers must have been answer as my assistants decided she was too small so we drove to another villager's house to exchange her for a much bigger, more boisterous billy goat. We brought the goat back to the research station where Uweso our GPS lead, wise advice lender, and driver slit the neck. Unfortunately all we had in the kitchen was a dull, Chinese made knife which made the process of killing the goat a bit difficult. Luckily I was in the "choo"-bathroom and missed the actual process. Next it was time to clean the goat and many were quick to claim the skin which is used to make local drums. Before we could start chopping the meat we had to wait for the local vet to come examine the goat to make sure it was safe to eat. After about two hours of waiting he arrived on the scene, felt a few of the internal organs, and declared it fit for consumption. I'm not sure about the science of this method, but considering we bought 6 liters of oil in which to fry the meat I was sure whatever disease the goat might have had, it was certainly be killed in all the grease.

I, along with Rehema, the office manager shown in the photo, decided to stick to the less messy task of peeling 100 bananas that also would be fried (of course) to compliment the African cake. A few hours later the guests arrived, among them many children dressed in their Sunday best. We ate, and drank and ate some more and then danced to the Tanzanian tunes that blared from the tape player. As always I tried in vain to shake my behind like the women are so adept at doing; if only I had more time for practice! We did decide though to pass on the local brew (as these women are shown cooking).

The rains have finally arrived here in Kongwa and it has tamed the dust storms that sweep up everything in their path. It also means that soon the dry ponds and river beds which have become mere trickles of water will hopefully fill with blue life. The lack of water is quite evident as the villagers constantly remind us. They often complain of their inability to wash themselves or their clothes, the lack of water for having gardens and growing vegetables and the fact that the little water they do have is often either salty (difficult to use for cooking or washing) or from a surface source which is contaminated by cattle and whatever else is roaming in the bush. The villagers also complain about the lack of attention from the government officials. However, after recently meeting with the Ministry of Water and listening to them explain for over a hour the 15-step process for using funds provided by the World Bank, for example, I understand why water projects take so long to initiate. And each funder has their own 15-step process...African Development Bank, World Bank, US AID, etc. One needs a computer program just to decipher it all.

We are now busy working on a bit of analysis, making GIS maps, and finishing the report which will be given to the villagers along with district, regional, and national stakeholders. I have made a few Swahili blunders in the report, such as confusing "kujitegeamea"-self-reliance, with "kujisaidia"-to relieve one's self as in going to the bathroom, but in actuality the two words probaly are not so different. Hopefully my assistants will catch most of the errors.

The final poem was inspired by all the furnerals that have occured in Kongwa recently. They are large affairs where dozens and even hundreds of family and friends come to sleep, to eat, and to mourn for several days. Often the entire neighborhood is consumed by the affair and everyone stops to pay respect. Life is so fragile yet the people so strong.

Sky

If you are in need of encouragement
look up at the night sky
surely you will see
at least a thousand stars
wanting to give you their light.

No Longer Among Us

They do not cry,
much.
Tears do not feed the stomach.
They come together to remember,
to sit silently;

whispering strong words.
Death is too familiar here.
Is God taking one too many?
What is not understood
is left to simmer.
Patiently they know
faith and courage prevail.

Attack of Salmonella Typhi

To start I wanted to include one photo of our team and my adviser taken the day before he left in Machenge Village...smiles all around.

It was bound to happen at some point. From handling hundreds of flies each week that are carrying thousands of bacteria, to eating sweet, raw tomatoes, to stopping habitually alongside the road for grilled field corn that has been touched, examined, and inspected by at least a dozen potential customers, all using their unwashed hands. After a week of an upset stomach, headaches, not being able to go to the bathroom (which already was a problem) and generally feeling weak I finally went to the dispensary run by the Catholic nuns.

Compared to most dispensaries in rural Tanzania it is remarkably clean and welcoming with vases of frangipani are in every room. The place was so inviting that while waiting for my blood results I decided to take a nap on the cot. A stream of patients kept walking by the room where I slept, staring at the "mzungu" (white person), who was seemingly comatose. The room also happened to be where they were conducting the new point of use (POU) HIV tests. Unfortunately, many who had come to be tested were positive, but at least they had come at all as many are afraid to know their status. When I asked the nuns about HIV they said the largest prevalence is among government officials, especially those in the Ministry of Education. Much to my dismay I was told that secondary school girls are often "hired" by these government officials.

The results of the blood tests showed I had typhoid fever, a bacterial infection most commonly found where there is poor sanitation and where water is contaminated by fecal material. I am not alone as typhoid fever affects over 20 million people each year and causes 200,000 deaths, mostly in children less than five years old. Of course it does not take a PhD researcher to tell someone that the sanitation in Tanzania is poor, but I certainly have had a close and personal experience with many of the nasty latrines found in the villages.

Now back on the mend my team and I are still out and about. Two days ago a deep well (360 feet) was drilled in Manyata, a village where people had to travel up to 7 km to obtain water or buy incredibly expensive 20 liter buckets from vendors. The district engineer and his assistant along with a videographer hired from Dodoma came to watch the well being drilled. The videographer took his job very seriously walking around in a suit with a big microphone (which I think was more for effect than actual function) interviewing villagers and officials. I too was included in the interviews and I just hope my broken Swahili was at least comprehensible. There were many shrieks of joy from the villagers, dancing, and lots of discussion about how Manyata had really "uchangamka"-woken up. Now the challenge remains to maintain the system, but for now everyone is certainly filled with joy.

Otherwise life continues on much the same in Kongwa, only it becomes hotter each day as we move into the peak of the dry season. The good news is the usally stark and barren baobabs are flowering beautiful white blossoms. This means rain is on the way!

Free Rider

Riding in the back of a truck
packed with charcoal and mysterious oil drums
a man in a suit peers out into the savannah
with dignified curiosity.

Millet Has Never Looked Better

It is harvest time for millet or mtama as it is known in Swahili. The main market for millet in the area just happens to be in Kongwa, very close to the research station. What was once an empty piece of land is now bustling with women gracefully carrying 50 kgs sacks of millet on their head, men arguing over the price, and kids doing what kids like to do which is to laugh, get dirty, and wonder why adults have to be so serious all the time.

While walking to see the sunset with my adviser, Menachem "Meny" Elimelech who came for a week to visit the research site, we were stopped by a local farmer. The man wanted to show us his millet. "It is the best you have ever seen" he told us. We ambled through the thorn bushes over to his mud hut where his wife stood smiling ready to show us the prized crop. The small white grains that they so deligently harvested by hand, then pounded with sticks to remove the husks, and finally sifted to clean any remaining debris were pilled high next to their house. Of course we did not have much to compare it to, but to our naive eyes it did look like mighty fine millet.

Meny has a big hit in the village in which we were working. It certainly helped my own cause to walk around with a man with grey hair (a sign of wisdom and status). We were received with many more "Shikamoo", the greeting given to an elder, than usual. We tromped throughout the village and past the giant baobabs to examine first the open hole wells. These are wells 15-25 feet deep which villagers dig themselves and must dig each year as they collaspe during the heavy rains. Besides the fact one is likely to fall to their death, or at least break several bones falling down one of these wells, the water in the wells is inadequate and quite turbid. Yet, in Kongwa District where water scarcity is significant, the priority is simply to obtain water without regard for quality or treatment. After viewing the wells a debate amoung the women and the one man at the well ensured over the amount of work women are reponsible for; obtaining water, gathering firewood, cooking, taking care of the children, etc, compared to men. The solo man tried argue that men do help as well, but when he hopped in our truck to get a ride back to the center of the village leaving the women behind to gather the water and then carry the heavy buckets several kilometers on their head back home we knew he really did not have much of a case.

The village also has one deep well about 60 feet that pumps water to a few community taps that serve about 1/3 of the village. Each day there was always a lively group waiting to obtain water, water they claimed was completely "chumvi", salty. Meny and I tried the water and did find it to be a bit salty but drinkable. Perhaps we tasted the water on a good day. Yet, even taste aside, the water is so salty that it cannot be used to water plants (they dry out), to wash with (you cannot obtain suds), or cook the daily dish of beans (they simply will not boil).

Back in 2002 the village was the fortunate receiptent of aid for latrines from the Kongwa Trachoma Project (KTP), the research group/NGO with which I am collaborating. KTP donated the cement slab floors and the plastic vent pipes and the villagers had to do the rest; dig the pit, build the structure, and install a roof. Over 250 latrines were built and most are still in excellent condition as seen below.

However, with over 680 households in the village there are still many who use very poor facilities. The villagers claim that those who did not receive assistance in 2002 were "uvivu" or lazy. They did not dig a pit as was the precondition to recieve the latrine supplies. Now, however, they state that those who did not build latrines have seen the "faida" or profits, gained by those that did and would gladly build a nice loo if given the opportunity.

Meny's final night was marked by dinner with the nuns from the Catholic Mission next to the research station. He was a bit weary of whether or not it was allowed for men to enter the convent but I assured him both they and God approved. Besides the fact that pork was served, probaly obtained from the local butcher (shown below), and being Jewish Meny does not eat pork, it was a dinner filled with laughter and lively debate. We happily drank the wine made by the sisters in hopes it might infuse us with a bit of holiness and ended the meal by agreeing that nuns can have fun. As we walked home under the wide African night sky gleaming with stars there was a sense of possibility and an understanding that change begins one smile, one person, one village at a time.

Happy Cafe

Along the dusty road

I saw a sign;
Happy Cafe it proudly read.
To know happiness;

creating something from nothing,

finding your voice,

uncovering a truth,

understanding a soul,

tasting a succulent orange,

dreaming of possibilities,

feeling the light of the world on your cheek

and knowing,

truly knowing

that there is no limit to the happiness

this world offers.

If you dig, you will find

The sun continues to shine, the dust continues to cover every surface, and the kids continue to have most of the answers to life here in Kongwa. Our most recent research village was Mkutani where again when talking to the schoolchildren they knew more than most adults about how trachoma is spread, how to prevent it, and the importance of having a clean and well kept home. Of course putting words into action is especially difficult when there is no water. The photo is of men digging a well in Majawanga. They dig up to 20 feet to find water, which of course is not sanitary as anything can enter the hole.

Then there is the afternoon sun which can become so strong that even the pigs must rest.

Even in villages that have natural flowing sources of water, such as Mkutani, the water is shared with the cattle, the kids bathing, the donkeys carrying the few gourds, blankets, and cheap metal pots made in China when the Wamaasi, a pastoralist tribe, move from one grazing area to another.

When talking to the women's groups, which are always strong and number and always take their time coming to the meeting, they told me they do not boil the water from the river. They also said that diseaes such as cholera, diarrhea, and typhoid are quite common. When I asked why they do not boil they gave so many reasons...boiling requires firewood which is difficult to find, it takes time to boil which they do not have, and because simply "tumezoea"-we have become accustomed to this way. Our research cannot attempt to solve all the difficulties of water, sanitation, and health, but it is showing that there are direct links between not just access but the quality of a water source and latrines, as well as how hygiene behavior is linked spatially throughout a village.

When not traveling to the villagesI have managed to convince the Italian friends I have met in

Kongwa to go hiking. Hiking here in Tanzania is not like in Switzerland where there are nicely marked trails and hopefully a rest house serving cheese and bread along the way. Rather the trails often are those the villagers created as "njia panya"-trails of the rat or shortcuts, through the fields and forest. When hiking last weekend from Kongwa to Mpwapwa (about 30 km away) the Tanzanians we met along the trail were shocked that we had decided to walk when we could have taken the bus. Somehow for the "scenery" does not resonate with them.

The next photos are from our hiking in the Uluguru Mountains, about 4 hours southwest of Kongwa. What a delight it was to be where everything is green, instead of red, and the produce is plentiful. We set off without a guide, but soon an entrepreneurial young boy not more than nine years old, found us a bit lost in the fields and offered to be our guide. He really did not know the trails himself as he bushwacked through the thorns and grass and fell a number of times, but still we felt safer with him by our side. He then told us a sad story about how he was an orphan and both of his parents are deceased.

Right as our pity for him peaked, we met his mom on the way back to the village where we were spending the night. She shouted out a hearty hello to her son. We treated him to the liquid gold of the village (Coke) and gave him some Shillings for his services, and said goodnight to both him and his mom under the fading light of yet another beautiful Tanzanian sunset.

Sun Kissed

Every evening the sun kisses the clouds
then the tall trees, the houses and rooftops,

the people who may or may not be too busy to stop

then the cattle and goats and dogs and cats,

the plants both wild and sown with care

finally the rocks, the sand, the very
Earth we depend on everyday for support.
Not a single thing is left untouched

by the most incredible, infinite kiss

the world has ever known.
And to think there is still tomorrow.

Watch Out for the Cow Crap

BanyiBanyi. The word has a nice ring, almost melodic. It is not one of those giant bugs with antennae that stretch for meters and you find crawling in your bed right in teh middle of the night, but rather the name of the village in which we are currently working. Although the research methods are the same, the experience is always unique. BanyiBanyi has an interesting mix of farmers (Wagogo Tribe) and pastoralists (Maasi and Mangh’ati). The Maasi and Mangh’ati would rather live in the bush than in the village, especially it seemed as far away from any road as possible. This meant we spent quite a few hours walking (and avoiding cow crap on the many paths). A single Mangh’ati family (which includes a man and several wives) may own hundreds of cattle and every day they must be walked to where they can drink and eat. We passed many on the trails who could not figure out what the blonde ponytail was on the back of my head. "Is it really hair?” they asked. They also were interested to know “In which part of Tanzania is American located?” I am not sure if it humbling or disheartening to know that in our increasingly global world there are still people who do not know where the U.S. is located. Of course when I told the story to my Dad all he could think about was if some men took several wives other less sauve men would be left out in the cold.
Fortunately for me the men were not interested in taking me as a bribe (I would be quite useless in making clothes out of animal skins). However, one sprightly young woman did tell one of my assistants who from the Wagogo tribe that she would marry him for the small price of only 5 cattle.

What was most impressive in BanyiBanyi, besides the motivated village executive officer who decreed while we were there that every villager must build a latrine, were the children. Their knowledge of malaria, typhoid, trachoma, and cholera was quite impressive; as was their understanding of how to prevent disease. They even had several colorful songs to share with us about trachoma, water, and sanitation. It was enough to make one start digging a latrine on the spot. The challenge of course is convincing their parents, most of whom have not even completed primary school, that children have much to teach us.

Back in Kongwa life continues on peacefully. The rusty sheen from the dust that seems to increase each week of the dry season has permeated pretty much everything. The fellow in one of the first photos who has a human radar like no one I have ever met, continues to find me whenever I leave the research station. He lucked out yesterday as he ran into me as I was buying some stale biscuits (which are strangely addictive). I bought him some as well along with a soda for which he always asks. Of course I did not have enough money as the price of the biscuits had risen from the day before; “the price of gas, sister, keeps increasing”. This seems to be the reason for every price increase. If only we had energy independence here in Tanzania!

And finally a poem;

Never is a friendship more blessed
than when two laugh, from that place deep within
where souls share secrets and the light
never fades.

Ngoma Viringu (Drum Circle)

Each village here in Kongwa District is unique. They way the villagers work together, the existing water and sanitation conditions, the environment, and of course the preferred leisure activity. In Njoge, for the women it was drumming, and for the men it was visiting the community hut where women cooking a mean batch of corn brew. The individuality of each village also reinforces the fact that the solutions for improving water, maintaining health, increasing the quality of education must be unique. This is certainly not any easy task.

In Njoge again we conducted household surveys, inspected the water points, gather GPS coordinates for the database and carried on with the fly trapping and identification. The photo here is of me explaining the fly traps and why we are using them. The water problem in Njoge, of course there was one, was that there is not enough. Women may wait 5 hours in line only to find that by the time they reach the pipe the water is gone. However, no one has considered controlling the growth of the local brick-making operation which consumes over a 6,000 liters of day in water to make bricks from the local mud. Sadly, you cannot drink bricks. The photo below shows the brickmakers waiting with 200 liter barrels to fill with water.

The assistants are becoming quite adept at discerning the difference between a M. Sorbens and a M. Domestica. Meanwhile, I still have the tendency to drop them on the floor, my shirt, etc while examining them and then quickly call for their help. They are such little buggers.

Last week I also had the opportunity to go to a Kitchen Party. It is only for women and is hosted the week before the wedding for the bride. It was quite an event with over 90 women from Kongwa and the area dressed in their brightest African clothes with braided hair so intricate that could be considered artwork. It was great not having any men there as I, nor the other women, had to worry about anyone’s hands or any other body part for that matter getting to close while we shook our behinds on the dance floor. The Tanzanian women have this amazing ability to really move their hips. Meanwhile I look like some stiff, uncoordinated white girl who grew up dancing to bad 90s music sung by folks like Vanilla Ice. My lack of rhythm usually solicited laughter, which made me laugh, which of course makes any situation that much more enjoyable. The Kitchen Party also included many, many speeches where use at least 10 sentences to say what could be said in one. Luckily the drinks had been served before the speeches. The women gave some very touching advice to the bride about how to maintain her faith, her strength, and her love during marriage. As always there is much meaning in life here.

Just Two Things

In an attempt to simplify my life
I have begun asking for just two things;
to arrive safely,
and to have something good to eat.
Anything extra, god decides to offer
especially those kisses,
floating on a soft breeze,
are simply added sweetness
to an already a blessed day.

Show Me Your Latrines

Life continues to bring new blessings, beautiful sunsets, and humbling challenges in Kongwa. We just finished our research in the second village, Manyata. It is always a delightful surprise to find a clean, sturdy, free of goats, chickens or pigs, well used latrine. When I do come across such a structure I usually take a photo, as I did below with the proud owner.

The village lacks any local water supply. The deep borehole pump, the third water project implemented since the 1960s) malfunctioned in 2004. Since that time, villagers have had to either walk 6 or 7 km to the nearest well or buy water that is brought into the village by young men. The water is bought at distant villages for $0.05/bucket and it is sold for up to $0.20. Given a bucket is only 20 liters, a family of 6 using only the essential minimum of water, may spend up to $10/week on water! This is a serious expense for villagers who are subsistent farmers.

Manyata is an Ujamaa Village, meaning it was created in the 1970s by the first President, Nyerere, who was Socialist and sought to move dispersed rural families into central villages to receive health, education, and water services. As a result, at one time there was much activity in Manyata, with water pumps being installed, grain storage buildings being built, and generators being used. Yet, like so much in Tanzania, things, people, and ideas quickly degrade in the harsh environment. It is often not long before life reverts back to how it was before all the outsiders and ambition moved in.

The experience in Manyata went much smoother than in the first village. One reason, among many, is that the village government and the villagers themselves were extremely generous and welcomed us with open arms. Rather than heading to the local corn brew hut at 8 am when we arrived, the village officials greeted us each morning to discuss our schedule and the help we needed. They often insisted on giving us chai, chipati, peanuts, sugarcane, rice and chicken to fuel our energy. We were more than happy to consume. The extent and variety of food they offered us and therefore the amount of eating did lead to some "changanika dawa"-mixing the medicine-which should only be done in moderation. In addition to the village officials, the villagers were always saying "karibu chakula"-come eat when we passed their huts. Given by 11 am I had already had 2 meals, I usually kindly refused. One woman, however, was so insistant I eat her pumpkin she just boiled I had to comply. Half-way through eating the pumpkin I bit into some hard, gritty material that could have just been dirt or the cow manure she told me she put on her fields. After a few hours of some serious rumbling in my stomach, I felt better. The lesson learned was that when the Tanzanians tell me not to "mix the medicine" they are serious.

The photo below was taken at a meeting with the village government along with the health and water committees. Up until our meeting, the three groups had not all sat down and talked together. The meeting and discussions that resulted were quite informative for all. It was evident that water, health, and economics are inextricably intertwined and any solution would require a joint effort by all the village groups. Several members highlighted how the lack of water effects everything from economics (villagers are forced to spend much of their disposable income on water), to health (in addition to trachoma and diarrhea, skin diseases are common due to a lack of water for bathing), to education (kids must gather water when they should be in school).

The photo of me in the cornfield is for Uncle, Farmer Jack! The look of shock on the villagers' faces when you tell them in the US we grow corn for animals; the same kind of corn that is the staple food in Tanzania; is always one of amazement.

The photo below is of our assistant/faithful driver/car repair man/gps guru/fly trap extrodinaire. We continue to collect GPS data on household locations, latrines, wells, and other important village buildings and gathering areas. The villagers are always amazed at how such a little machine could make a map on the computer.

And the flies...we are certainly trapping many (which means hours of fly counting and identification afterwards). The largest fly counts are at the houses where there are cattle pens. In the photo below the yellow piece of paper above the villager's head is the sticky trap which can attract up to 200 flies in 48 hours. The man in the photo is the owner of a dog that I'm quite convinced was at least half-hynea. The animal was big and threatening and full of spots. I visited the house to set up the trap, but when the time came to collect the traps I quickly found another task and let others on the research team greet the hairy beast.

Finally, I have included a few photos from homebase, Kongwa. The two below are from our favorite (and only), Saturday night dinner spot, Joseph's Chips. I always go with the four Italian NGO workers who are sure to call at least four hours ahead to make the "order" which is always the same as there are only three things on the menu, rice, chicken, chips (fried pototoes). One Saturday when the Italians were out of town I went on my own with another visiting researcher. We made the mistake of not calling our order in ahead of time. Upon arriving Joseph reassured us he could serve us dinner. Three hours later (butchering a chicken takes some time) we were eating the most delicious, greasy, chicken in Kongwa. Yum.

Otherwise, I continue to frequent the Catholic convent next door. The sisters are so sweet and full of life. I also think it is the only place I can drink red wine on a Sunday afternoon. I suspect, though, I am the only one that drinks the wine as we have been working on the same bottle for four weeks.

And why not end with a poem....

Sunset

The sun spoke to me one evening

as she sweetly revealed

all her layers of light.

In response, without thinking,

I began whispering,

beauty, faith, love

is here.

Where There is No Road

Greetings from Kongwa! I am actually in Dodoma now, the actual capital of Tanzania. However, all the ministers live in Dar es Salaam and come here four times a year in their fancy land cruisers to hold session. The town is actually bigger than I suspected although the amenities are still pretty sparse. I would not recommend the Minestrone soup as it is a strange concoction of fluorescent orange/red liquid with mushy spaghetti and brown colored peas. It is best to stick with the staples of beans, rice, and fried chicken!

We finished our research in our first study village Ng'humbi. The village is really out in the bush and for much of the 2 hour journey from Kongwa there are no distinct roads besides the dirt paths the cattle herders and farmers use. Our trusty driver Uweso though always seems to find the way. .. “go as the way opens.” There is one spot along the path where the government is building a bridge. In the past two weeks there has been no progress but there is always a large crowd mingling around the site, chomping on sugar cane stalks and waiting. Each time we pass we ask "where is the cement?" as that seems to be the problem. There is no cement so they just keep waiting. Luckily the car can go down and up the now dry river bank without a problem, although we did suffer two breakdowns.

The photo I tried to upload but to no avail was one taken at a funeral in Ng'humbi. It is both a time of mourning and celebration for life. One of the delicacies at the funeral is goat intestine. The villagers insisted that I could not continue to collect the GPS data until I sampled the meat. I finally relented but as luck would have it they had just finished the last bit. However, there was lots of fresh intestine for the next round of eating/celebrating so they proudly cut off a big hunk and gave it to me to bring home. Little did they know that the day before we had been experimenting with intestine in the fly traps. After just one day the traps were so full of maggots, chrysomia (flith flies...not the flies we are after), and had a stench you could smell for hundreds of meters that we decided to stick with bait that is much more palatable such as rotten fish or fruit.

There are a few decent latrines in the village built for just 33,000 Tsh ($28) which is a bargin compared to the cement block structures that cost more than a house. The latrines seem to be catching on and those that have them comment on how much cleaner it is to use the latrine rather than going in the bush full of thorns, thistles, and snakes.

One of my favorite questions in the village is to ask "Wapi ninaweza kuchimba dawa?" Literally it means where I can dig some medicine, but it is one way to ask where I can go to the bathroom. It always leads me to a latrine and I've definitely seem some interesting facilities. One was housing a family of goats so I decided to just go outside around the corner and hope that none of the kids that love to follow the "mzungu" , white person, would find me. Even though most villagers have a latrine they leave much to be desired.

Most of the villagers are so gracious. They treating my team and I to meals of ugali and fresh greens and tell me how if I stayed in Tanzania I could have much more wealth compared to returning to the U.S. In many ways I'm sure they are right. There is so much wealth here even in the midst of poverty.

Grace

The smallest of gestures
the most humble of gifts
can forever expand one’s heart
when they are given in grace
when the only motive is love.

Back in Kongwa the Catholic nuns continue to delight and treat me to fresh rabbit they raise behind their house and wine they make themselves. Secretly I think they just like to have me over for Sunday lunch to spice things up a bit and laugh at my Swahili.

The internet here is dying so before I'm disconnected completely I will sign off with a few more poems. I will add photos next time I am on a server with a bit more nguvu (strength) which will be when I am in Dar to meet old friends from the US in July.

Silence

Making space for silence
I found a beautiful chamber
Where everything was light.

Emptying

It does not matter where I am
sitting, squatting, standing
when I start the day
by emptying myself;
I mean letting all the crap come out,
I cannot help but giggle;
all the more possibilities
to be filled with what nurtures and delights.

Land of the Baobob

After a dusty, action packed past few weeks in Kongwa, I've scribbled a few more thoughts and added some photos.

So the research is moving right along. Each morning I start with a run. My favorite destination is this church on the hill. It is simply built, with a dirt floor, but the views over the plains are amazing. The sunrise is divine as well.

Next, there are many tasks, training the assistants (I now have three) to conduct the household survey, identify and trap flies, conduct participatory meetings with the villagers, and the methods for taking GPS measurements. The photo is of the fly trap built by the local fundi (a person that is good at building most anything). We are working with different baits (fly glue, rotten bananas, decaying fish, acetone) trying to see which is the best attractant. I'm not sure the assistants knew this would be such messy business when we first began. There also is the driver, who reliably takes us across the pot-hole ridden paths to the villages that are sometimes up to 50 miles away. There is certainly no shortage of land in Kongwa District and the Wagogo and Wakuguru (the two main tribes in the area) are quite spread out. We even have a medical assistant with us now helping with all the introductory meetings with the village governments and giving a bit more training on trachoma, in particular. He is quite knowledgable and wonderful to have on board at the start.

The Baobob tree is ubiquitous here in Kongwa. They are so stately and strong..

The next photo is the Pork Shop (duka la nguruwe) right across the dusty road from where I stay. Pork is also called Hot Chair (kiti moto) which means you better be prepared for some action in your gut once you consume! The man next to me is incredibly sweet. I call him my personal GPS as he seems to know the instant I leave the Kongwa Trachoma Project Center. I usually see him three or four times a day.

Next is the heaping pile of dagaa sold in the market. They are a cheap source of protein, but personally I prefer just plain old beans. If you add fresh coconut they taste better.

Finally, kids. They love to shout "mzungu, mzungu" when they see me and laugh when I trip while running on the dusty paths. I tend to laugh with them which makes them laugh more. Notice the flies on their faces...those darn musca sorbens cause trachoma not to mention a nasty diarrhea if you are not careful.

Most nights are spent at the computer working on the database, survey, and GIS. Yikes! But there have been other nights "out". Rehema just turned 40 and it was quite a celebration with soda, beer, bites (samosas), cake, and even dancing. She hoped that everyone there could be as fortunate and blessed to reach 40 as she had been.

Every Saturday the Italian volunteers in town (there are four) go to Joseph's Chips, the one restaurant (i.e. shack) in town that makes a great dish of rice and chicken. They have included me in their weekly outing as well which has been great fun.

And because I just can't help myself when it comes to writing poetry...

Just When

Just when I think I have learned all I possibly can

I stumble on a thorny bush or a rock

even a jagged piece of sidewalk;

this business of tripping can happen anywhere in the world,

and I realize I know nothing.

What a relief!
I never have to carry a load that is too heavy.

Spirit, god, the holy one, whatever name you prefer,

like any creative teacher,
keeps thinking of new ways to help us grow.

The assignments are never easy, yet always rewarding.

With so many different pupils
I am amazed how each new task is

tailored especially for our own needs, our own time.

At first you may refuse,
but why waste time denying the truth?

Once you begin, there is no turning back.

After some struggle, eventually you will be skipping, simply floating.

Soon you will see the end

like the orange ball of fire that rises each morning, in beauty.

Remember, though, there are rocks, thorns,

even cracked sidewalks ahead just waiting
when the time is right, to cause you to stumble.

When the inevitable happens
well, all we can really do is laugh

and give thanks
that there is still so much to learn.

So, so much to learn.