Mommy Dearest

My dearest mother insists on forwarding my emails to her entire address list, including family I haven’t seen in about 15 years. Here’s what you’re missing…

Hi Momma!

Sorry it’s been so long since I have written. Things have been busy around here and I don’t get to use the internet very often.

First, an update on Amani…

I’m trying to finish up my project with Amani Children’s Home. I’m working on a project to foster relationships with churches, schools, & businesses which will hopefully lead to cultural enrichment as well as diversified fundraising resources. Individual contributions—our bread and butter—are way down over the same time last year. The last figure I heard was a 50% decrease.

Belts are tightening here--literally. There was a really short rainy season so many fields failed to produce much corn. These are subsistence farmers that eat what they grow and if it doesn’t grow… they don’t eat. The rest of the year will be rather slim for area communities. I’m betting that the number of children served by Amani is bound to increase, since families won’t be able to feed their children. Amani’s monetary resources are dwindling, just as the need for contributions increases.

We figured out the situation with the power outages. Tenesco, the local utility, makes scheduled cuts every Tuesday and Thursday. Because it is run on hydro-electric, and because they’ve had such a mild rainy season, they’re forced to make scheduled cuts for the sake of conservation. The cuts, however, are lasting longer than they did before. As it becomes even drier, I’m sure we will see an increase in the cuts.

There was a 4th of July party at The Watering Hole on Saturday and I ran into a couple of young women from Arkansas, so that was really nice. The owner is a Tanzanian of German descent, but his wife is from Texas. She had the kids all decked out in red, white, & blue. We gave away a free treats to anyone who wore an Obama kanga.

Kangas are pieces of cloth about a meter and a half long which are usually worn as skirts, but can be used for a multitude of purposes. You often see women carrying them as satchels or as baby carriers, strapped across their backs. Kangas are worn all around East Africa. Obama is very popular around this area since his father was Kenyan. There are also kangas that feature the face of President Bush that were produced when he visited the country last year, but I haven’t actually seen one.

One of the most interesting things about Tanzania is the mix of cultures. I am often asked where I am from. This was surprising at first, I figured people would simply assume I was American because I spoke English. Silly me! Many of the Westerners (mzungus) are German. There are also many Australians, British, and French ex-patriots and volunteers. They all speak English.

What I found really interesting is that I have met several “mzungu” that speak English with an accent (German or Indian) but that were born here. I thought my tour guide was born in India because he spoke English (perfectly, I might add) with a clear Indian accent, but he was born in Tanzania. The man that runs the Watering Hole speaks in English with a definite German accent, but was born here. His children, too, speak English with a German accent.

I had a conversation with a gentleman a few nights ago, a fellow mzungu, at least by appearance. He works in the coffee industry and is a trained coffee and tea taster. If you know me at all, you know I was immediately fascinated by this guy! I had heard him mention Pakistan and I asked him if he was from there. No, he said, he was a fourth generation East Africaner. His grandfather was a public servant and a speech writer for President Julius Nyerere—basically our Washington, the first President of the newly independent nation. His grandfather had died writing a speech for Nyerere and the President was so touched by this, his grandfather was the first civilian to be given a state funeral. He noted, with a hint of bitterness, that he had once been reported to immigration and detailed all the trouble associated with proving he was Tanzanian. Upon hearing his frustration, I thought of my American friends who have neither white skin nor black skin. One friend, who is an Air Force officer of Filipino descent, often gets asked where he is from. America, he responds. No, they clarify, where is your family from. Pennsylvania, he says.

I returned from safari last week and it took me a few days to get settled back in. It was truly a wonderful, once in a lifetime experience, but if I ever tell you that I’m going on a five-day long trip where I sleep in a tent with another person and share an unattended latrine with 50 other campers… please stop me. There were six of us, two volunteers and a few of their friends and family that shared the car. We visited three parks: Manyara, Serengeti, and Ngorogoro. I got a few pics, but will steal more from a safari mate who had a great camera with a telescopic lens. We saw “everything”. A safari is largely gauged by whether or not you see the big five: lions, buffalo, rhino, cheetah, and elephants. We saw it all plus hundreds of zebras and wildebeests which we caught in migration. Also on the trip, we visited a Maasai village and Olduvai Gorge, home to the oldest human fossils ever unearthed.

The weather here has been amazing. It’s around the mid-70s during the day and I don’t think it’s hit 85 since I’ve been here. I so greatly miss Arkansas, but am dreading returning to the August heat. I will require many, many blue snowcones—discolored teeth be damned. I will post a few more pics at the end of the week, but I can only upload them at The Watering Hole, which is only open on weekends. They’re the only place in town that has wi-fi and it’s too dangerous to use a USB in the internet cafes in town--they all have viruses.

'Til next time!!

jkh