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Jumapili

25 FEBRUARY, 2019

Sunday –  but not a day of rest.

We started the day with a brisk dawn walk through the countryside with clear air cooled by the winds off Mount Meru.

When I say “we”, I mean it in a collective sense, that the team, or most of it went on the brisk morning walk. Jenny and I were recumbent in our beds, though I seem to recall muffled voices as they started off at 6.30am. For the moment I am nursing my injured knee and saving it from further injury.

I need to remember that when a child suggests ten pin bowling as a Christmas family activity, the sensible response is – “have fun everybody.”

By now the full team is assembled minus one, Annie who is en route from Yemen. The rest of us had a day’s outing at The Shanga, on the western outskirts of the city. We all piled in to one of the school buses which seemed to be driven by one of the students. He even had to sit on a cushion. Despite his youth he was an excellent driver, navigating the bustling streets filled with dala dalas, cyclists, people pushing barrows, cars, trucks and every sort of vehicle, all competing loudly for a share of the road.

The Changa is a social enterprise which provides employment opportunities for people with disability. There was weaving and clothes making, painting (tinga tinga), glass blowing, jewellery crafts – and of course a gift shop where we are encouraged to support the local workers. They do make amazing products and we came away having spent some of our hard-earned. The thing is that a small sharing of our money can make an enormous difference in these communities, and I think all of us were more than happy to buy some lovely gifts for our friends and families – as well as spoil ourselves.

Next door was the Shanga Coffee Lounge restaurant where we enjoyed a lovely buffet lunch, and some of the pleasant local beers and wines.  We also enjoyed a typical tropical storm which deposited a lot of rainfall in a very short period of time and had us scurrying for dryer places to enjoy our coffees. We Australians were probably all thinking – why can’t we get this in the parched areas of New South Wales and Queensland. It did not last long and within 20 minutes the ground and roofs were steaming.  We can also understand why the roadside gutters (where there are actual gutters) are half a metre deep!

Our other treat for the afternoon was a visit to a genuine supermarket. Western-style. We replenished stocks of water, coffee, wine, coffee and other treats – and coffee. Prosper, our driver got us home safe and sound struggling now with the weight of our groceries and gifts.

Well, now we are home, fed and watered. It is just me in the common room with one other catching up on chores that require some wifi. Unfortunately the wifi does not quite stretch to our room.  We have also been given a quite comprehensive briefing for our work, and have been assembling the kit that will be required when we start our real work tomorrow. This is an amazing group of people – all gifted, passionate and also full of fun and great conversations. We feel very privileged to be part of this wonderful group of people, and to be able to contribute to the work of this team in our own small way.

I had a fascinating, if grim, conversation this afternoon in the bus on the way home, contemplating a future world that seemed oblivious to its perilous future. At least the politicians and global leaders seem incapable of steering change that might save the planet from catastrophic harm and humanity from extinction. Craig was going off to write the science fiction script where humanity wipes itself out.

Well that is a rather sombre way to finish this missive. Sorry ’bout that! Maybe I can be a bit more hopeful after mixing with some of the wonderful children at St Jude’s!

Kwaheri.

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Week One - life at St Jude's

4 MARCH, 2019 

Again it is a very quiet Sunday afternoon, with a couple of people quietly chatting, another starting to sort some files in preparation for the coming week. Jenny is having a pleasant sleep. Most of the team has been away for the weekend, either on safari, or participating in a local marathon run down at Moshi on the slopes of Kilimanjaro and not far from the Kenya border.

I thought that maybe I should give the good readers a better idea of what is happening here, as while we are all having a good time together, it is also important work that is making a difference. Mainly it means that healthy students are good learners, so while the team cannot treat anything, we are able to identify and recommend treatments for the school and families.

This year it is a quite large team, with ten doctors, eight helpers five orthoptists, three in the wellbeing team, and one overall coordinator.  We form three separate teams for the health checks, and the wellbeing team has been doing separate work helping build capacity in the school in relation to student welfare and wellbeing. The three health check teams have roles at the three campuses – Junior Primary, Senior primary and the Secondary campus which is located about 30 kilometres away. In previous years, the teams have been the same throughout the two weeks, but this year, things get mixed up quite a bit each day, so we learn to operate with different team-members each day.

Because I have spent more days at Smith – the secondary campus – I will describe our efforts there. First of all there is the team effort to ensure that we have all we need, since it is pretty awkward if anything gets missed and it is a long drive back to Arusha. So we assemble all the files for the classes we will be attending to, all the medical paraphernalia is in the box, there is a working computer, scales (with spare batteries), stadiometer (measures height), pens, plenty of colourful stickers for the kids, post-it notes and so on. I have a pretty good BMI calculator on my iPad, so it has to be fully charged.

We clamber aboard one of the school buses for the half-hour journey – this year a new route which is quicker and shorter, but does include some pretty rough roads. The countryside is rich and fertile, and probably under-utilised. I mentioned before how the city is pushing out further into the rural areas, and alongside the roughly built shacks, there are some lavish homes being built.

Smith Campus is set among farmlands – corn, coffee, bananas, and it also has some land growing food for the students.

The heaviest job of the morning is to carry all the gear up the steps to the top floor of one of the teaching buildings where we set up for either one or two teams. On Thursday we had two teams – one concentrating solely on height and weight checks and the other doing full health checks. These days, the full check is only given to new students, and to every alternate year, or when a medical reason has been identified by the school or the student.

It is a busy buzz of activity as the students assemble, removing their sweaters (true), ties, shoes and socks. They are called forward in alphabet order; they stand on the scales for weight check, then to the stadiometer for height. The girls giggle sheepishly as they stand on the scales, many casting embarrassed looks at their class mates. For the boys, height is the important metric and they strain for the extra millimetre, and are very proud of the extra centimetres they have grown over the year. Invariably the lads are lean and tall, though it is not unusual to see some very small children. At this point we have been entering the numbers in the paper file and the BMI calculator. An important task is to assess whether the BMI alerts either an obese or malnourished status, so that the doctors can advise appropriately and put in place the required protocols to deal with the issue.

Students getting the full check proceed to either the orthoptists for eye check or the doctor – they will see both. At this point there will be either chaos or order, as there needs to be an efficient flow of people and paper, and ensuring the paper and student are matched for the next event. We ran into problems on Thursday when one of the helpers (from the school) who was assisting in the weights and heights, had speed as her KPI, and the whole process became quite ragged. Fortunately we were able to evaluate and identify the problem and get things going more slowly and efficiently.

The orthoptists run a series of checks of vision, record the results and any recommendations in the file. The students then wait to see the doctor who reviews history, checks scalp, skin, teeth, hearing and all the mysterious things that doctors do. Files are updated with stats and recommendations, and then the actions continue for the next student waiting in the queue.

The pause between classes allows a quick catch up, a cup of (very) sweet ginger tea, and a  little bread roll. Lunch is spent with the students and staff in their meal room, a very large hall with bench seats and large tables. I can only take quite small quantities of the ugali, a green vegetable concoction, and a spicy sauce. There is not a lot of meat in the diet, but health check teams’ efforts have seen increased amounts of fruit available for students.

If we are lucky, we have some extra hands to begin the process of data entry, which also triggers any ongoing actions for the team or the school. Otherwise it is all hands on deck back at home base to update the files.

You can see that it is quite full-on, but it is delightful interact with the students and to work alongside some amazing people. I have found it particularly rewarding to chat with the teachers, learn about their lives, and discover more about their country.

I hope that this summary gives you a bit of an idea of what this work is about. Of course there is a whole lot more that goes on behind the scenes, with the school support staff facilitating everything that happens, and the doctors engaging with each other professionally.

But, it is not all work. At the end of each day we gather at the Water Hole, conveniently located at the school gates, to sit in the shade of the large trees, share yarns and tall stories, quaff a Kilimanjaro or Safari ale. We eat together in our common room – a kitchen with long tables decorated with Maasai blankets for table cloth.

We do find time for other pursuits.

On Wednesday Jenny and I went on a visit to see Ally, the lad we sponsor at the school, at his home with his family. When we first saw Ally at his home, he was living with his mum, his grandparents, two of his grandparents’ sons and another cousin. This was in a very tiny home of two rooms in a very impoverished part of Arusha. The following year Ally and his mum had moved into a new room, about the same size, but a long way from the school and the mum’s employment. Now Ally and mum have moved much closer to school. We were met by mum and grandmother who greeted us with shrill ululation, and draped our shoulders with Maasai blanket gifts. We had a pleasant hour together, sharing our gifts, drinking tea and some food that mother had prepared, talking about our families. They were excited that we said we would love to return for Ally’s graduation, but that will not be for another 6 years. In the meantime we are on the hunt for a soccer ball and pump for Ally’s birthday, which is two days after we leave.

On Friday we visited a Maasai Boma, which seems to be a traditional outing for the teams each year. The first item of business is to buy a goat. Our bus bounced along half-made streets and lanes of Arusha, locals eying us quizzically till we came upon a goat market. We hid our bus while Felix, our leader, and a Maasai Man, went to bargain for a goat, armed with our pooled schillings.  Eventually he returned with a beautiful looking animal which had the added virtue of being pregnant, meaning extra value, as well as milk. The Boma, west of Arusha, was one we had visited before, back in 2014. The chief of the Boma had only three wives and a seeming endless number of children who kept appearing out of the bush. I counted about 30.

The goat disgraced itself by escaping before he could be given to chief, but he and a group of children set off across the dusty fields to round up the goat. The goat did not seem all that pleased with the transaction as the fields offered very little in the way of nourishment.

On Saturday we visited the Arusha Cultural Centre and Gallery which has the most amazing collection of African art – textiles, painting, sculptures, leather and glass.  I was sans-Jen, and was able to restrict myself to a few modest items. Jen had been part of the wellbeing team’s delivery of some workshops for teachers, so she caught us up at lunch at the Blue Heron, a lovely restaurant set in an old home in quiet, leafy streets of Old Arusha – probably a remnant of colonial times. For some reason we were then taken to Maasai Markets, a collection of hundreds of tiny stalls, their proprietors clamouring for our business. I managed to elude them, but Jen got away with a few items. We were perhaps saved by one of the doctors, Phillip, who had a gift list for numerous children and a large number of grandchildren, and a willingness to pay full price. Word spread rapidly that a man was coming who was fair game for their selling skills. Poor Phil is now trying to offload some items that he needlessly bought because he was too kind to say “no”.

Which brings us to today – Sunday, a day of rest. Well some were still on safari in the Serengeti, some went off to Catholic Mass and a quiet time after that. about five of our number went down to Moshi to participate in a marathon run and others went to spectate.

Jen and I joined a smallish group that drove down to Moshi and beyond, out to very dry and sparse country. Banjo Patterson wrote of “tracks never crossed ‘cept by folks that are lost”, and I think we were on such tracks.  Amazingly there were occasional collections of modest cottages and herds of goats. And then we came across a teachers’ college in the middle of empty plains. Who’d have thought.  Prosper, our driver, kept asking the locals for directions, and eventually we came to our oasis. Beautiful clear springs of water with a small green forest of palms and trees. The enterprising locals had installed a gate and an entry fee of 10,000 schillings. It was quite serene in this lush setting. I resisted the opportunity of having a swim, though the others came better prepared with bathers, and enjoyed the waters with little fish nibbling at any loose skin.

The oasis gave me parting gift of a sore back and legs when I had a bit of a fall. Jen had encouraged me to go along a very slippery path to see the source of the spring, and the result could have, should have been, foreseen. Mainly damage to pride.

And now after dinner, I have beaten off all contenders for the late-night prize and am alone in the kitchen. I felt I really needed to get my writing up to date, as there were already too many things to talk about. I imagine you have all dozed off by now anyway. 

Kwaheri

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Week 2 - things draw to a close

8 MARCH, 2019

Thursday evening, and things are very much drawing to a close.

We have had a very relaxed meal, probably a touch too much wine and the Kili Lager has been flowing freely. Well freely to the extent of 2,500 Tsz shillings, or about $1.50 for a 500ml bottle. The conversation has flowed freely as well, and a few speeches as our leader Dr Pip is finishing up with ten years leading the health check team. Dr Gordon has handed out his annual awards, to much laughter. But the real work of the team is never far away, and the last-minute chores of finalising medical files, writing referral letters, cleaning the data, and packing up is keeping a number of folk hunched over computers and deep in conversation and occasional chortles about medical matters.

The last of the health checks were finalised on Wednesday, and those not on that team managed other business. For me, it was a trip into town to find a sports store to buy a soccer ball and pump for Ally, the young lad we sponsor, who turns 13 next week. We will miss his birthday unfortunately, but we will get a chance to give him our gift on Friday. One of the smaller school busses took a few of us into town, as others were looking for a few more gifts from the Maasai Markets. A visit to the Markets can be a challenging experience. It is a highly concentrated collection of tiny shops in narrow lanes winding back and forth, every step along the way is a buying opportunity and an invitation to step inside the next tiny shop. The shops sell all the typical Maasai items, beads, blankets, paintings, sculptures, all in a beautiful array of bright colours, and all lovingly made. To step inside a shop is great danger, as the owners are very persuasive – in a nice way. We were there a few days ago and I managed to escape largely unscathed. Yesterday I was charged with the obligation to buy two very specific things, which I did, then sat in the bus in front of the entrance, frightened to expose my vulnerable willpower to the gentle persuasions of the marketers.

Naturally, every store owner came to talk, but once they knew I had finished my buying they were happy to either drift away or stay for a proper conversation. So, I got to know Solomon the security guard, Vincent and his brothers, his mother – all store owners, Margaret, and a few others. It was wonderful.

In the afternoon, we joined others on a trip to Tanz Hands, a few kilometres from town at Usa River, not too far from St Jude’s Smith Campus. Tanz Hands is a facility that provides education and workshops for physically and mentally disabled people. They do amazing work, and it was inspiring to see the handicrafts and paintings. They also have workshops for prosthetic devices and do amazing reconstructive work on children and babies with club foot. It is a long process, but it was astonishing to learn that $250 is the full cost of a five-year treatment plan.

It was our last drive back from Usa, with Mount Meru shrouded with mist and the sky filled with plump, rain-threatening clouds, the fields ploughed and ready for the season’s planting of corn; rice fields beginning to show the promise of grain – all showing the marvellous prospect of this beautiful part of the country. Still, when you move away from the slopes of Meru, the land gives way to a parched and seemingly barren landscape where seasonal rains have cut through the fields with eroded gullies.  It is a struggled existence for the Maasai and other people who do their best with scattered herds of goats and cattle, tended by the scattered children of the local chief – it is sometimes a mystery what the animals eat, as there is not much grass and the dominant plants are hardy African Thorn Trees which are not the most welcoming of plants. It is easy to fall in love with this country with so much promise, and with people who seem so happy and optimistic and friendly.

Today we visited one of the local government schools, not a long drive from St Jude’s. This would be the school the kids from St Jude’s would be attending if they did not have the St Jude’s opportunity. There is no electricity in the classrooms, where 70-80 children share 3-4 to a desk, share their textbooks which are old and well-thumbed from previous generations of students. Their learning is largely rote learning, and it is a struggle for the children to survive this learning experience.

Nevertheless, they children are buoyant and happy and filled with the same aspirations of a life as a doctor or engineer. They were delighted to see us, and spontaneous in their joyous greetings, their singing and dancing in celebration of our presence. We came with gifts for the school – books, pencils, paper etc, that in a small way may assist the schools which get by on almost no resources.

The same liveliness, joy and appreciation is present at the School of St Jude, shared by students and staff, volunteers and interns. We are just so glad that the little that we do, and the little that we can share, can help the learning prospects of some of the children of the poorest families, and help them along the way to a good education and the possibilities that this can bring to Tanzania.

Tomorrow, Friday is another day of visits and final activities. A major activity, apart from the compulsory dawn Tai Chi, is a visit to the The Plaster House, a home in Arusha that enables children, from all over Tanzania, to recover after they have had corrective surgery, orthopaedic surgery, plastic surgery or neurosurgery for a disability. It is yet another inspirational story of what people can do for others, with not a lot.

Tomorrow is also a chance for the team to shine. At the Friday assembly we will be delivering a team song. I, and most of the team, have never heard of Baby Shark, but the young orthoptists assured us of its immense popularity, and potential to bring a health message to the kids. My job is honorary DJ, as I was able to tweak the soundtrack to accommodate some extra verses. I will have a crack at sharing a short video of our practice, which was a bit of a hoot. (Sorry – need to learn something new, but not tonight!)

The weekend will have us at a nearby lodge for some R&R before flying out on Monday. I have just this second received an email from South African Airways that our flight from Dar es Salaam to Jo’burg is delayed a couple of hours. What more could you want, than 4 very hot hours at Dar International.

Well, I will leave the weekend at travels for another posting next week.

Kwaheri.

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Monday drama

12 MARCH, 2019 

We had a simply marvellous and in some ways, astonishing weekend. I will write about that, and the last few days at St Jude’s later.

After a weekend retreat at a nearby hotel, the Planet Lodge, we wandered back to a seemingly abandoned visitors’ centre at St Jude’s. The kitchen which had been our common room looked as if the previous inhabitants had been spirited away, leaving just a few crumbs and empty water bottles as evidence of human occupation. A couple of young Americans came by, as they are staying for a few days. Jen and I shared a beer at the Water Hole as a reminder of the fellowship we had shared with the team. I left a Kili (beer) in the fridge and a bottle of pink wine of dubious quality that can be used by any of the Health Check Team when the swing by the school after their safaris.

The night preceding a day of travel is, for me, a fairly restless time, as I wake on the hour to check the time… we had repacked the suitcases and packed a separate bag for our overnight stay in Johannesburg. After breakfast and a bit of a chat with a couple more of the Americans, we bade farewell to Felix, Lulu and others from the Visitor Team and Charlotte who manages Community Relations (and a million other things) and hopped on the small bus that would take us to Kilimanjaro International Airport. It is about an hour drive, but the driver seemed to be reluctant to go over 30km/h, and this was not a great thing for my mental state.

The first drama was security and bag checking. Whether a bag is selected randomly or because I looked particularly suspicious, I don’t know. But my bag was pulled apart and we had to unwrap the touristy things we had purchased. More delay, and the guard reluctantly let me go, but my careful packing was now in disarray.

We stood in the queue at the only check-in counter occupied but when our turn came, we were instructed to go to the other end of the check in room to a deserted counter. We had a ticket for a Hahn Air flight to Dar es Salaam, which the attendant looked at scornfully and dismissively. “No good, this is Fast Jet operated by Hahn. You cannot use”.

“But, but…” no amount of discussion, argument, pointing out all the details on the ticket made any impression. “Well, what do we have to do” we asked, and were told to try Air Tanzania. Go outside. Well, I left Jen with the baggage inside the terminal and went in search of the Air Tanzania office, outside the terminal building, running through the security scan. They had a flight at 4.20, arriving 5.20 for our 5.35 connection. Despite their confidence we could manage this I left, to find Jen searching for me. The Tan Air folk were running after me as well, so I felt in demand. Through the security again, not pausing to interact with the guards who were far too slow.

This time the lady who had been so dismissive, said she could possibly get us on another flight that surprisingly left at the same time as Hahn. US$207 each or 490,000 t-Shillings. But they would only take shillings, and we only had 110,000. Naturally the only ATM is outside the terminal, so back through security again. By this time the guards are not giving me a second glance. The good news was that the ATM worked, so back through security who waved me through like one of their own.

Now, I am known as a patient person, but when the woman behind the counter checked the money three times, I was beginning to get a bit agitated. Okay, to be honest, I had reached that point some time before. We are down about $400 for flights that did not exist, so that would be the last time I use Expedia for booking anything!

The Precision flight was fine, and soon the sprawling city of Dar es Salaam was unfolding underneath us. The Tanzanian hinterland seems very dry and barren from the air and it is only near the coast that we see the dense coastal forest, and any sign of town and city.

Dar airport has to be one of the most depressing airports on the planet. There is no air conditioning and the oppressive heat has our shirts wet with perspiration. The international lounge is devoid of life, so we spent a few hours in the Flamingo, the only cafe, while the departure board signified a depressing ‘Delayed’. At least we had a voucher from South African Airways to buy some food and drink. We were nearly persuaded at the South African Air check in counter to upgrade to business class. Only $200 US each, with access to the Premier Lounge. We thought about it and almost said yes, but it is just a four-hour flight… After a few hours at the Flamingo, we were having third thoughts.

Eventually after a quite long delay we were trudging across the tarmac to our plane and cattle class seats. Thankfully we had an empty seat next to us so we could spread ourselves around for the flight. Everything at Jo’burg airport went extremely well, with almost a smile from the usually dour immigration check. Our luggage had been removed from the carousel and waiting for us on a little piece of red carpet, and finally the travel gods were smiling. There were no harassing porters waiting to help us to our transfers.

Look, I won’t even mention that it took an hour to get some US dollars that we will need in Zambia. Why do they have to have such expressionless faces as they stare vaguely at computer screens.

Well, now Jen is in a deep sleep, snoring gently, and I have a small window of opportunity to share this day. All will be well. The Tanzanian way of not rushing sort of works, in the end, and I have had to suppress impatience and intolerance that our Western efficiency is not the way of the world everywhere. As they say here (there) hakuna matata.

Kwaheri.

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