Leaving: Final Thoughts

Monday, March 25, 2019

Leaving: Final Thoughts

For the last two weeks of our time in Arusha, we didn’t see much of Mama Kundayo.  For many evenings in the last 3 months, Janet and I enjoyed sitting out in the courtyard with her and catching up on all the gossip.  There was the story about the Australian woman who was afraid to fly home; about the young woman who ran away an hour before her wedding; and, about how the rats ate the word of God. Occasionally Mama came to see us and we’d talk about our food adventures and daily activities. Mama and all of her interpreters were very interested in who we are and what we were doing, both here and in the US. Recently, however, Mama wasn’t feeling well and she finally ended up in the hospital with kidney stones.  They were pretty bad and they couldn’t do surgery so she had to get rid of them with time and patience and suffering. We didn’t see her for awhile. We sent her flowers and a card. Then, one day, we were allowed into the inner sanctum of her personal courtyard and house for a visit. We talked about when she was able to make it out to the big courtyard, we would celebrate with beer. She laughed.  We laughed. And a few minutes after returning home, Emmanuel came over with 4 beers for us to start celebrating early. We continued to visit her every couple of days and afterwards, Emmanuel came with 4 beers for us to celebrate her recovery.

On Saturday—2 days before we left—Emmanuel brought over an entire traditional Maasai Tanzanian African meal—mbuzi (goat), ugali, tomato salad and a kind of okra vegetable dish….and 4 more beers. (Yes, the beers are piling up because neither of us are big beer guzzlers. John doesn’t drink at all.) Anyway, the meal was pretty nice and John was super happy because goat and ugali are his faves.

On Sunday, we went to church for the last time. Several people I’d gotten to know said their goodbyes.

We went to lunch with Sharon and Terry and another woman, Chantal who is visiting from France. The restaurant, named Andrews, was one we (the Js and I) hadn’t been to before. Terry had been there which turned out to be a good thing. After we were seated, the waiter told us what was on the menu and expected us to order. Terry said that we needed to see menus with prices. It seems that she had organized several days of strategic planning meetings for the Albino Peacemakers at this restaurant and the first day they charged about 3 times more than she was expecting—because they hadn’t seen the price list. So, the waiter brought 1 menu for 5 of us and Terry asked him to bring menus for all of us. With a pained expression on his face, he did. He brought a second menu for us to see. Terry asked him in Swahili, why he didn’t bring menus and he mumbled something about not having everything on the menu so he didn’t want to have to explain. Terry told him we needed to see the prices and then he understood.

This is an example of people here thinking that Wazungu are all rich with unlimited funds. Understandably, they think that anyone who can afford to go to Arusha and eat out at a restaurant and buy stuff must be rich.  There is so much poverty here that it’s unimaginable for them to think that by our standards, we’re not wealthy. After all, the average daily wage is $1.50. Beans and corn is a staple food—when they can afford the charcoal to cook it. It appears to me that everyone is trained from a young age to ask for something from Wazungu. Here are some of my examples:

·      A middle school student on his way home from school walked beside me and kept saying over and over that he was hungry. He didn’t look hungry and he wasn’t dressed like he needed anything.

·      A woman stopped us in the street and asked us if we would give her a job. She didn’t speak English and we couldn’t even figure out what kind of job she wanted.

·      A man from church one week said he needed $1500 to plant his field in onions. The next week he said he needed a used computer. Not!

·      When I asked the lady at the produce stand if I could take her picture, she said I had to pay her. I didn’t go back to that stand.

·      On the dala dala, the man didn’t give me change until I asked for it.

·      An old woman downtown kept tapping my arm with her open hand as she followed me down the street asking for money.

OK, it goes on and on and on. So what do I do? In my great “benevolence” am I supposed to open my purse and empty my wallet? And if I don’t, am I selfish, indifferent or heartless? It’s something I haven’t been able to resolve. Personally, I believe in giving through “sweat equity” rather than coin but that doesn’t help the common person on the street who has nothing. I also believe that just giving money to people is not a dignified way of helping. That feels like I am putting myself out as someone more than or greater than they are and how does that help? Money is a very powerful force that determines the course of one’s life.  So… I leave Arusha without having resolved this for myself.

I don’t want to leave my blog on that note. Tanzania and Arusha are considered to be “Africa light” because it’s easier to live here than in just about any other place in Africa. It’s the only former colony that has not had a civil war after independence. People seem to get along here and are very friendly. I could definitely return for another warm winter to experience something completely different. There are so many choices. For now, though, I’m ready to return home to see what choices I have there….and what adventures await me.

I'm posting two slideshows here as a final final overview/wrap up of my Africa Adventures. 

The first is called Around Arusha which is a variety of photos from Arusha. Many were taking from a moving vehicle and others were taken while I was walking or just out and about.

The second one shows photos of me in many situations and conditions. You can get a general idea of the variety of experiences that I had.

Until my next adventure…..

Albino Peacemakers: Final Words

March 22, 2019

Albino Peacemakers: Final Words

I haven’t written much about the women at the sewing workshop so I’ll wrap up with a few words.  Teaching English with them has been one of the highlights of my time here.  In the beginning, they decided that they wanted to be able to do 2 things. 1) to talk to the tourist visitors (mostly American) who came through on buses, and 2) to be able to talk about Albino Peacemakers when the visitors came. With this in mind, we went over short comments they could make which wouldn’t require much English…like “We have this in many colors.” or “This fabric is beautiful.”  We also went over personal space, eye contact, and non-verbals. Each woman learned to introduce herself and tell her “story.” This was sometimes a long story if they had the English ability or it was only 2-3 sentences long if their language was limited. I spent time working with them 1-1 on this part.

As I got to know each of them better, I began to understand their personalities and humor. For example, Arafa would walk up to me and with a mischievous look on her face. She held up an item and say, “Is this one OK?” “It’s beautiful.” We have it in many colors.” Of course, when she was supposed to say those things to visitors, she often froze up but eventually she just did it. One thing they learned early on was to “fake it.” They loved that expression.

One of the funniest moments was when I showed them pictures of my life in Spokane. They were supposed to ask me questions as we went through the slideshow. One student, Judith, posed a most interesting question….”Do people in Spokane talk too much?” (You know, …speak, spoke, spokane…) After that they called me “Teacher from Spokane where people talk too much.” Love it!!!

Here they are as individuals:

Anzirani

Arafa

Dorcas

Judy

Sauda

Siwema

Stella

Yadin (Arafa's Son)

Before I came, an excellent English speaker, Siwema, gave an introduction about Albino Peacemakers which is a way bigger organization than the sewing workshop.  Sister Martha, an Anglican sister with albinism, started the organization many many years ago and now, because of her, there is a program to educate people in the villages about albinism (some think it’s a curse); another program to take primary school children to school to keep them safe from attacks (witch doctors use body parts to make charms and potions); and, another program to get secondary students into boarding schools (to help them be safe and succeed with their low vision challenges). This involves sponsors, and it all needs donors--$25 a month can support a student in boarding school. Anyway, Siwema’s introduction explained all of this. Terry Morton is an American who has been working with this group for years and she gives most of the presentation when she’s available to do so BUT she was unavailable for most of the time I’ve been here.

Here’s a photo of a group looking at and buying the items for sale.

One day when I was there, a tour group came through and neither Terry nor Siwema was there to give the presentation.  The next best English speaker was Judith who had to speak.  Although she struggled, she gave the basics along with the help of the tour guide and I noticed how the visitors were really engaged in trying to understand Judith and to get the whole picture. After that, I knew that the presentation to the tourists had to be a group effort and the women just had to speak a little English no matter how low their language ability. So, we worked as a group to put together a presentation with different parts for different people. Most of them said that they wanted something that they could memorize. It became a bit of a race against time because I was there only 2-3 times a week and there weren’t that many weeks left.  It was during the last week that I figured out that a couple of the women presented better if they went off of major ideas and used their own words, rather than memorizing. So, my coaching changed a bit. Although I could use at least another month of working on the presentation, and helping them perfect their personal stories, I think they have the information and ability to continue on their own by helping each other.

Finally, March 22 came and it was my last day to be with them. It was a long day.  They were all dressed up in dresses that they had each designed for themselves. They aren’t skilled clothes makers yet so they work with a very very good seamstress—oops, what do you call a man who sews(??). His name is Simon. Whenever the women want new clothes, they draw some designs and tell him what they want and he makes it. Some of the dresses I’ve seen were quite elaborate with lots of intricate detail.

Anyway, on Friday morning, we all sat in a circle and I told each of them what I thought their strengths were.  Then I gave out “presents” which were mostly things from my apartment I wasn’t going to take… salt, sugar, toilet paper. You know stuff like that. Then I gave them photos of our time together.  I made prints of all the pictures I had of the them and the items they sell. They passed them around and…with lots of Swahili and a little English, they reminisced about our time together. Here are some of those photos.

They told me that I should call Janet to come later for lunch and afternoon “activities.” They knew Janet because she bought them notebooks and pens during our first week together.  Janet arrived at noonish and, in truth, as expected, we were on Swahili time so we sat around and talked for a long time. Some of the women cooked lunch. Eventually, Terry showed up with a woman from France named Chantal. She is a big supporter of Albino Peacemakers and is visiting for a couple of weeks

Eventually, we ate lunch which was delicious… roasted chicken, just-cooked-right vegetables and fried bananas (cooking bananas, not like the ones back home).

Then we all sat in a circle again and the women each gave me a thank you card. I could tell that they had carefully picked out a card that expressed something important to them.  I was so touched. Here are a couple of them.

After the cards, they had presents for both me and Janet.  First came our shukas. These are traditional clothes of the Maasai people.  The men wear red and the women wear blue. So, both Janet and I were dressed in blue shukas. Here’s me getting “fitted.”

After the shukas came the kangas. A kanga is a kind of special cloth that is worn as a skirt.  It has a meaningful phrase printed into the fabric and ours say something like “God is good.” (If you read my post about shopping day, you’ll remember that I bought a kanga with the Swahili expression: “Gifts can be anything. Do not get tired of receiving them.) I was dressed in the kanga like a skirt…but for Janet, they used it as a head scarf and wrapped it in a traditional way.

We looked awesomely Tanzanian, don’t you think?

As a final gift, they gave me a placemat and napkin set which is, of course, colorful and fabulous.

Soon after the gift-giving, Sister Martha, the founder of Albino Peacemakers, showed up. Believe it or not, I had never met her so all the time we were creating her story and telling about her life journey, I knew her only by what others had said and by what I’d read on the internet. So I was very very glad to finally meet her. She has a most wonderful spiritual presence. I imagine that Sister Teresa of Calcutta  and other great women have that same kind of aura which touches the lives of so many people. Sister Martha joined our group and thanked me in a very meaningful way. I can imagine how she has invited so many people with albinism to become their best selves….and they do. Obviously the women at the workshop have been influenced and led by her. She’s an amazing woman.

Finally, it was time to go. There were hugs and more thank you’s and more hugs and promises. I exchanged WhatsApp numbers and emails—from those who are tech connected and finally I was out the door.

There is a post script to this story. During my final week, Siwema told me that she was having a baby in 3 months. Of course, I already knew this just by looking at her but I know that many times Tanzanian women don’t tell anyone until the last minute about their pregnancy and nobody asks. She said that she would be gone on maternity leave for 3 months—the standard in Tanzania—and the other women would have to take over completely giving the presentations to the tourist visitors. It would be during the high season. The day after she told me this, I made a special trip back to the shop where I’d bought my kanga and I bought a baby kanga for her. It said “A mothers love is never ending.” This was especially appropriate because this is her 4^th child. Her firstborn, a 12-year-old son, has albinism. Then the 2 daughters, aged 4 and 6 do not. Now there is this one, which no one knows… boy or girl, with albinism or not. I’ll have to wait three months along with everyone else. Anyway, I gave Siwema the kanga privately before I left. She hugged me and said thanks. Later on she sent me these text messages….

“MaryLou! Today I wasn’t feeling well so this evening I went to the hospital and I used the kanga you gave me today. Also, the words on it was so special for me. It says that a mama’s love never ends and so you’re my mom from now because my mom died 9 years ago. Thank you so so much.”

…and…

“I went to ultrasound because the baby wasn’t moving well but doctor said everything is okay. I was just tired. That’s why.”

I was so touched…and a bit flabbergasted. She is truly an amazing women who is dealing with hardship and still has dreams that she’ll probably make happen somehow.  She and her husband and her 3-soon-to-be-4 children live in a 2-room apartment. (Two rooms—not two bedrooms.) She has a dream to have a house for her family and one large enough for a day care for children with albinism along with those who don’t.  Also, in her house, she wants a room large enough for a classroom so she can have classes to educate people about albinism. Her $90 a month salary probably won’t do that and I don’t know what her husband does. Thus is life here in Tanzania.

Speaking of life, it’s time for me to get back to mine. As is true with all international adventures, I’m sure I’ll be learning from this experience for the next few weeks to come.  It always happens that way when I get back to my American life and have time to reflect on the differences between cultures, yet the similarities in our connections to each other.