On Tuesday and Wednesday this week I have been on a field trip to visit former students to see how they are fitting back into their communities and to assess what more our program can do to help our students become contributors to their communities.
If you are a Facebook friend you will have seen the romantic side - dramatic scenery and exotic animals - so now you can read about the less than glamorous reality.
There are several ways to get to Malambo. The route that goes through the Ngorongoro Conservation Area is faster and more comfortable as more of the trip is on tarmac. But it costs a non-resident like me (still no work permit or residence visa!) about US$50 each way so we went the slower bumpier route skirting Oldoinya Lengai and Lake Natron. In one hour the step counter on my phone recorded over 3000 ‘steps’ - that’s 3000 jolts where my leg is being battered by the gear stick and my knee by the dashboard. In the middle seat of the Land Cruiser there is no head rest so my neck next day felt like I’d gone 10 rounds in the Dodgems. Still, the views were spectacular!
We were able to help a motorbike taxi rider who was stranded with his passengers - mother and toddler - and a punctured tyre. The bike, rider and mother went in the back of the truck and the toddler was on my colleagues knee in the front. Toddler was less than impressed at being in such close proximity to a mzungu but was bribed into silence with biscuits. We took them about a half hour’s drive into the next village where tyres could be mended.
This was the third lot of hitchhikers we’d given a lift to - the first group were happy in the back of the truck on the highway at 100km/hr. The second group were Maasai warriors in full regalia heading somewhere special. The women folk were also heading somewhere special.
My colleague is convinced by the notion of karma. Because we helped someone in need on the road, we also were helped when we were stranded with a punctured tyre and a flat spare in the middle of nowhere on the way home on Wednesday. A truck came past not long after we’d discovered our predicament and took him and the spare into the closest village with 12-ply tyre mending capability - a predictable 1/2 hour away - and so we were only delayed by about 2 hours. In that two hours we only saw a safari vehicle - heading in the wrong direction from our point of view - and three motor bikes.
Our ‘hitchhiker’ on the return journey was less than impressed with the situation. We’d picked him up at Malambo about 8 o’clock so he was already 8 hours into a very bumpy journey with prolonged stops tied by the neck in the back of the truck. We broke some twigs off an acacia bush to give him something to eat while we were stranded but it was to be another 6 hours before he arrived at his new home.
You can see in the picture that he is surrounded by bulging bags. These are full of rock salt, rock harvested by women near to Lake Natron, the sale of which gives them an income. When we stopped at the village near the lake we were mobbed and my colleague spent nearly an hour negotiating with all the women to get the best price but to spread the wealth around. I stayed in the cab of the truck and was entertained by local children asking me questions and telling me fibs. Who knows what the goat thought as the bags piled up and hemmed him in. The rock salt will be used as a feed supplement for the cows, sheep and goats at Olkokola Mission and this truck load should last about 3 months.
As I said, the goat had already had several extended stops. The purpose of the trip was to visit past students and to locate possible candidates for the next program starting in August next year. We spent several hours in Digidigo first with the assistant parish priest who belatedly thought we should also meet with the parish priest who, after the chat, thought us worthy of being offered sodas which took quite a while to procure by which point I was not feeling as ‘people oriented’ as I should have been and much more fixated on the task of getting back to Arusha.
We had also stopped to see several former students, graduates of the program, to see how they were faring. All the ‘chat’ was in fairly rapid swahili so I only have a vague idea what was said. I will be interested to read the questionnaire forms that were completed and find a way to analyse the information garnered.
I was able to see that the students we have come from some quite isolated and remote bomas and villages and are living in quite dire circumstances, particularly those near Malambo were the long rains have failed and food will be scarce later in the year. The landscape around these parts is dry and dusty and even 4WDs risk getting bogged in the sand. Flies seek out moisture in the eyes, mouth and nose of people and their farm animals and are a nuisance; the mosquitoes are more of a problem with malaria being endemic. I have been up close to the reality of other people’s lives in Africa often but it always makes an impression and reminds me how privileged I am.
This picture is at Kasangiro near Digodigo. The rains have been kinder here and some crops will be harvested.
My colleagues on this trip were determined that no afflicted person should be unaware of help available and any group, no matter how big or small, was given information about the programs offered by us, by The Plaster House and by Help for the Massai. It was a very worthwhile trip and I’m so very glad I was included.
The amazing scenery and the gazelles, giraffes and zebras and the ostriches and all the smaller birds were just an added bonus!
More soon, love Jenny
