Journeys from the Heart

Please enjoy our journal entries, as snapshots in time. From here to Africa and home again, we dreamed and tried and sometimes cried, but giving up was not an option: “PERSEVERANCE” said Alphonse Ngowi… so we persisted for water in Uru. “PERSEVERANCE” said Florentina Masawe… so we dreamed with our African sisters of better lives in Uru. “PERSEVERANCE” said Everist Momburi… so we carried their message half way round the world, in hopes that others would persevere with us.

 And so you have! Every generous gesture sent hope and happiness flying back across the ocean to Uru, only to return to us again… as happiness increased ten fold.

Alive & Well in Uru

Every day in Africa is a day lived close to the ele­ments, close to the earth, and close to its’ peo­ple. Here there is no insu­la­tion from any aspect of life or death, from the food eaten or from the effects of weather.

On Kil­i­man­jaro, peo­ple par­take of food that is har­vested and then eaten on that same day. There is no refrig­er­a­tion, so good food man­age­ment is vital to well being. Grain is ground, chick­ens are kept, eggs col­lected, fruit picked from the trees and if meat is eaten, it is butchered, pre­pared and con­sumed within hours.

One of the days that our group spent at Kishu­mundu Sec­ondary School, brought a delay in lunch and the school sched­ule, because the farmer was late with the just butchered cow… and it had to be inspected by the local doc­tor… before it was con­sumed by the children.

As a veg­e­tar­ian I have no prob­lem being nutri­tion­ally sat­is­fied for pro­tein, with local legumes/​beans as well as eggs, being abun­dant in Uru. And I am reminded of a bit of wis­dom once said to me: “if you can­not be per­son­ally involved or even watch or han­dle your meat as it is pre­pared from ‘hoof to table’… you prob­a­bly should not be eat­ing meat”.

It seems a prac­ti­cal con­cept that draws atten­tion to our innate body/​mind wis­dom. Is it really advis­able to be so far removed from our food sources that we have no idea of… or are not part of… their begin­nings, their nutri­tional value or their safe handling?

The moun­tain here also has great influ­ence on the weather, and I have expe­ri­enced sev­eral unsea­son­able storms, includ­ing hail, strong winds and sheets of rain. You take cover where you are and then deal with the affects after­ward. I found myself in Moshi town yes­ter­day when one such storm struck us. Wait­ing under a door­way of the YWCA, I made slow, pleas­ant con­ver­sa­tion with oth­ers who had found shel­ter in the same way (I know only very lit­tle Swahili and their Eng­lish was broken).

Alphonse and I began the drive back up the moun­tain towards his home, once the rain had stopped. We knew that at some point, the rough roads to his home would become impass­able for my rented vehi­cle. The only ques­tions were when and how far we would fin­ish up by foot. He stated he was “glad that chal­leng­ing cir­cum­stances had occurred”, so I “could expe­ri­ence and know how to han­dle the vehi­cle under such road conditions”.

We made it very near to our won­der­ful Grand­mother Well and left the car in the hands of good peo­ple to watch over, before trekking the rest of the way up and down the steep, wet and very slip­pery red clay roads. “Po-​​le po-​​le”, slowly slowly, we care­fully selected our pace and foot­steps, arriv­ing safely at home.

Every­day is a day of some chal­lenge, and I remain amazed at the strength, for­ti­tude and inge­nu­ity required to live here. Water rushes and then dries up, crops fail, peo­ple fall ill and die. Life is lived here as our ances­tors lived, exposed and at the mercy of hos­tile ele­ments within the envi­ron­ment. But always, always, Uru lives as ‘com­mu­nity’, find­ing strength and sup­port in the pres­ence of all those around them.

Hail & High Water

There is a tor­ren­tial rain pour­ing down on Uru bring­ing hail from the top of Kil­i­man­jaro. The tin roof of the Ngowi home reflects every ping­ing of ice, and the banana trees bend around us, their great leaves swirling under water and wind.

The sea­sonal ‘big rains’ do not come usu­ally until late March, April or even May, so this is an untimely but wel­come rain for those who live here. Small roads and dry creek beds will become liv­ing rivers, with water rush­ing down the moun­tain side, gain­ing great momen­tum as it flows.

Unex­pected rain relieves the long droughts, damp­en­ing the ever present red dust and reviv­ing plants, ani­mals and peo­ple alike, all of whom yearn for water. But as fast as these ‘roads turned to rivers’ swell, they will just as quickly dry up tomor­row, and the earth will crack open again under the heat of the African sun.

Our work pro­gresses on the water project after Tuesday’s Uru East Water Board Meet­ing of 22 peo­ple includ­ing vil­lage rep­re­sen­ta­tives, 7 vil­lage chair­per­sons, our coop­er­at­ing NGO and the assis­tant dis­trict water engi­neer. Four vil­lages were selected to receive the water from the Grand­mother Well at Kimo­cholo. This deci­sion was based on topog­ra­phy, place­ment of exist­ing and future cis­terns, and to pro­vide relief for those suf­fer­ing the most from lack of clean water. Five thou­sand peo­ple will be served by this sweet water, a water so good… it requires no addi­tion of chem­i­cals or purifiers.

The Board also made the very coura­geous deci­sion to pull out any and all very old pipes from these four vil­lages, decay­ing rem­nants of colo­nial days, cof­fee plan­ta­tions, mis­sion churches and sub­se­quent hap­haz­ard attempts at tap­ping into these old water sys­tems. There has never been a sin­gle village-​​wide dis­tri­b­u­tion of water here before, let alone of four vil­lages. So the let­ting go of any old sources, how­ever pol­luted or unre­li­able they may be, is a great act of trust and com­mit­ment to the com­mon good.

With action being spurred on by my planned depar­ture date next Tues­day, the four recip­i­ent vil­lages have orga­nized a manda­tory work day this Mon­day. Every able bod­ied cit­i­zen will par­tic­i­pate, dig­ging out the old sys­tems and mak­ing way for renewed life and oppor­tu­nity in Uru.

Finally-​​Photos from the top of the world!

Hold­ing on to the ban­ner in 40 mile an hour winds!

19,500 feet to the top!

On Wisdom & Junebugs

SATURDAY morn­ing meant another drive back down the moun­tain into Moshi town. Alphonse and I first vis­ited an advo­cate (attor­ney) then con­tacted his attor­ney daugh­ter Upendo in Dar es Saalam for fur­ther guid­ance, regard­ing the legal reg­is­tra­tion of the Uru East Water Board.

A quick stop at TANESCO elec­tric com­pany also pro­vided some addi­tional infor­ma­tion about cost esti­ma­tions and reg­u­lar read­ings on the elec­tric­ity required to run our water pump, which is a pri­mary bud­getary con­cern for this Uru community.

SUNDAY began with 7am Mass at the Roman Catholic Church in Kishu­mundu. Ninety per­cent of the Uru East res­i­dents attend this church, so it is a com­mu­nity cen­ter, a means of dis­pens­ing impor­tant com­mu­ni­ca­tions within the com­mu­nity, and a source of spir­i­tual inspi­ra­tion for the res­i­dents, as well.

Father Jumatano is new to this parish but has been a strong advo­cate for com­mu­nity sup­port of our water project already. I have enjoyed his mes­sages (once inter­preted to me from Swahili) because of their strong advo­cacy for self ini­tia­tive and self empow­er­ment through indi­vid­ual and com­mu­nity participation.

Our coöper­a­tive project is really a model for global com­mu­nity ini­tia­tive, at a grass roots level. And I am con­tin­u­ally grat­i­fied at how the Uru peo­ple step up to the chal­lenges inher­ent in work­ing with our water project (dis­tance, lan­guage and cul­tural chal­lenges, com­mu­ni­ca­tion issues (inter­net, elec­tric­ity, lack of basic resources etc.). We in the USA have much to learn from these peo­ple regard­ing com­mu­nity orga­ni­za­tion and participation.

MONDAY was spent prepar­ing for the 22 mem­ber Uru East Water Board Meet­ing, with sug­ges­tions for legal reg­is­ter­ing as either a Trust or Water Asso­ci­a­tion and deci­sions to be made regard­ing the dis­tri­b­u­tion of our water to the com­mu­nity. We are at the point for final selec­tion of who will receive the water from our Grand­mother Well at Kimo­cholo… which is being piped to the 2 exist­ing cis­terns we are repair­ing… and the third cis­tern we are building.

ICBD’s role is to sug­gest pri­or­i­ties and sup­port deci­sions that will ensure sus­tain­abil­ity and eco­log­i­cal con­sid­er­a­tions. This first bore­hole has enough water vol­ume to pro­vide the daily drink­ing water for 4 of the 7 vil­lages in Uru East, about 5000 peo­ple. The loca­tion of the cis­terns (hold­ing tanks) influ­ences some of the choice of recip­i­ents… but since water can be piped to pub­lic access points… good and self­less deci­sion mak­ing is also required. These are con­sid­er­a­tions made for ‘the greater good’ and not indi­vid­ual benefit.

TUESDAY began with casual con­ver­sa­tion while wait­ing for the arrival of all Board mem­bers. Mr. Tin­gi­tana laugh­ingly shared a story regard­ing ‘ a junebug that is lying on its’ back wait­ing for some­one to turn it over’. The impli­ca­tion was that the Uru com­mu­nity had been a ‘juneb­ug­gie lying on it’s back, wait­ing for the ICBD friends to show up and turn it over’, in this issue of water. I have been called worse in life.. and the image of the junebug with it’s legs swim­ming in the air made me laugh. And who among us has not waited or prayed and hoped for the ‘hand and stick of some­one’ that will spur pos­i­tive action in our lives? So then we all laughed… and laughed again… at our com­mon predica­ments, even as we thanked God and one another for ‘play­ing our parts’.

Peace at Palla

I drove from Moshi town to Kishu­mundu vil­lage last Fri­day, to attend the steer­ing committee’s meet­ing of the Uru East Water Board. The meet­ing went well, with a review of what has been accom­plished in our project and what is still left to be done. With the suc­cess of ‘first water’ from the Grand­mother Well at Kimo­cholo, we are deep­en­ing into the vision­ary think­ing required to man­age the water dis­tri­b­u­tion for long term sustainability.

Estab­lish­ing the legal rights of this Water Board to man­age the water, as well as defin­ing clear guide­lines for eco­log­i­cally sound and care­ful man­age­ment, are among our imme­di­ate goals. Good ground was cov­ered and our next steps planned, includ­ing a gen­eral meet­ing with the entire Board on Tues­day at 9:00 a.m. (22 peo­ple includ­ing the gov­ern­ing Ward Coun­cil­lor and the vil­lage chair­per­sons from Uru East’s 7 villages).

Alphonse and I left the meet­ing sat­is­fied with the progress and headed to his Palla home in Kyaseni vil­lage, where I will spend the week. I was ‘warmly wel­comed’ (Karibu Sana), by all the friends and fam­ily here at Palla.

Palla means rasp­berry in Chagga and it is the name that Alphonse’s home has been called ‘since for­ever’.… mean­ing it has been in his family’s hands since tribal times. It was so named because of the abun­dance of nat­u­rally grow­ing berries on the land, but it also reflects the sweet face that this fam­ily shows to the world.

Land in Tan­za­nia is passed down tra­di­tion­ally from father to son or brother to brother. How­ever, a call for enlight­ened shar­ing is under­way, so that women in this soci­ety may inherit equi­tably when a father, brother or even their own hus­band passes away. This is one of the tenets in the Acorn Women’s Coöper­a­tive con­sti­tu­tion, that they will stand for such social jus­tice issues in Uru and in the wider global com­mu­nity as well.

Din­ner with the Ngowi’s was pre­pared par­tially over a small wood stove and the rest cooked over two propane gas burn­ers. All locally grown, the meal con­sisted of fresh sauteed spinach and car­rots, ‘dirty rice’ (rice cooked with gin­ger, car­da­mon, onion and gar­lic), flat bread, fresh avo­ca­dos and toma­toes, pineap­ple, and man­goes from a tree shad­ing the house.

With full stom­achs, happy hearts and the day’s work behind us, Fri­day evening passed peace­fully at Palla, sit­ting under a mil­lion shin­ing stars in the African sky.

Prayers on Wheels

In an effort to be more adap­tive dur­ing this visit and any future vis­its to Tan­za­nia, I made arrange­ments to rent a vehi­cle from a vil­lage taxi dri­ver. Hav­ing my own car allows me a free­dom of move­ment that can­not hap­pen when one is rely­ing on our hosts to arrange dri­vers or share rides. That is the the­ory of…

Final thoughts on our journey

I’ve been home for a cou­ple days with time for rest, jet lag acclimation-​​​​somewhat-​​​​and pon­der­ings of our trip. I am struck by the dif­fer­ence between my first trip to Tan­za­nia and this one. Four years ago, I was sort of in shock when I arrived. I had never been to a third world coun­try and could not stop think­ing about the…

Our Fabulous Five Group

First pours of cool clean water

Lions on Safari-​​Up Close and Personal!