Toto, We’re Not in Sakina Anymore!

“If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay at home.”  James Michener

I have decided to write about the last leg of my journey prior to journalling the safari itself since it will take me quite a while to go through the thousands of photos from the safari and it may not happen until after I return home.  Suffice it to say that we had an incredible time.  Safari Infinity helped me plan a safari that provided a great mix of cultural experiences with the many exceptional game drives.  (My advice to those planning their trip:  do not skip the cultural activities!)  We stayed at fantastic places and met some unforgettable people, including Kelly, our guide and, as I have said, our friend.  He proved to be the ideal match for us.  I will be working on a proper trip report as my stay here continues, but I’d like to write about my final volunteering stay while I am still here. 

I knew this part of my journey would be different than my stay with Mama Liz, but I didn’t know just how different.   I thought I was staying in USA River (it’s pronounced “oosa”, not U.S.A. River, as I initially thought), but I am in the village of Nkoaranga, which is about 5 km from the main road on Mount Meru. There is a tarmac road leading into the village, but dirt roads and lanes otherwise.  There are no Sakina bars or grocers, only shop fronts with the same items repeated over and over with much that is unavailable, including the Internet.  Phone service is out much of the time, as is electricity.

I am at a home stay again with a wonderful family:  Baba Gertrude (Jeremiah), Mama Gertrude (Tumaini, meaning Hope), Gertrude (5yo) and Gad (pronounced “Gaddy”) (2yo).  For those unfamiliar with Tanzanian ways, it is common for the mother and father to be known by the name of one of their children, usually the first born.  I know that they are prosperous by village and Tanzanian standards, but the gulf between them and what I am familiar with couldn't be greater.  

Gertrude & Gad

First Experiences

I have been here only a few days, but from the start, the family has treated me as part of their family.  On the first day, Baba Gertrude took me for walk so that I could learn, as he terms it, their “environment.”  We have one quite pregnant cow, Daisy, bee hives, and about 10 chickens (30 recently died from some disease).  They have some banana trees on a fairly large piece of property for the village, but Mama Gertrude cooks on 3 open fired burners, only had one knife before I got here, and Gad had only one small toy.  When I helped Gertrude with her homework the first night, she was writing with a pencil that was no more than one inch long. 

Despite their limited resources, Gertrude goes to private school because, as Baba Gertrude explained to me, education means everything.  But they can’t afford transport so Gertrude waits for the older students to finish their day; consequently, she leaves well before 6:00AM and returns at 5:30PM. 

Baba Gertrude was raised by a single mother and only went as far as the equivalent of 7^th grade.  He has only recently met his father.  His mother came to meet “their guest” on my arrival and I’ve been to her home.  One of the Sundays that I am here, we are going to visit Mama Gertrude’s family so that I can know them.   They have really welcomed me into their family and are doing everything to make me feel included in every part of it – it really is very special.

Stories from my First Saturday

Mama Gertrude invited me to accompany her to visit a cousin, who had given birth to a daughter about a month ago.  She asked my opinion on what to take as a gift.  I hadn’t a clue (her response whenever I say “I don’t know” is always “it is you and me and we must decide”), but when we went to the grocer I realized how clueless I really was.  She asked whether she should get sugar or noodles (we got both).  We also got laundry detergent. 

We took a “taxi” down the mountain, which was a car, smaller than a Prius, with the back seat’s back removed.  It would never have been permitted on the roads back home.  Like the daladala, it doesn’t go until full.  In this case, we had 10 persons, including the driver, in the car and, believe it or not, the fellow behind me had a rooster under his arm!

 

When we arrived at the cousin’s, a series of folks came in and out of the room to welcome us.  I don’t know who they all were (and after we left, I found that Mama Gertrude didn’t either).  For a period, the two of us were left in the room alone and then her uncle came in to ask what type of soda I wanted.  Again, I hadn’t a clue what to say, but ended up saying a Fanta.  As it turned out, I could have said anything since someone was sent down the mountain to get it.  So we were served French toast and Fanta.  (Some reading this will know that French toast is one of my favorites.  It’s not served with syrup here, but is really quite good even at 3:00PM).

Of the many folks I met at the home, there was one I particularly want to remember:  Damien.  He was in the third grade and a wonderful young man.  He had a friend over.  When Damien came into the room, he came over and greeted me.  His friend followed and muttered something.  Damien scolded him and told me “he has not greeted you properly.”  The three of us ended up watching TV together as the others chatted.  Picture this for a disconnect:  watching Nigerian Idol, eating French toast and drinking Fanta, while someone sang a Cyndi Lauper song.

When Mama Gertrude and I left, Damien was in another room.  He ran out onto the porch as we reached the gate and yelled “Chris, Chris, good-bye.”  If only I could always remember the way he said “Chris,” he sort of rolled the “r.”  While trying to live in the moment here, I find that I wish I could always have a tape recorder, as well as a camera with me.  (BTW, I asked Mama Gertrude who Damien was after we left and she had no idea).

This is the DVD store front & butcher across the street from us (I'll have to get a better picture)

Views from the street

Children from "next door" (their home has no electricity or running water)

These pics aren't very good - not sure why.  I'll get some more.  I don't want to delay posting this any longer.  As it is, I wrote it a week ago, but just now got enough of a signal to post it.