Thursday November 1st
As well as a record of my life in Tanzania, I’ve tried in
this blog to give you a feel for the country and the environment around me, as
I see it. The main drawback to this is
that I would need to visit Q with James Bond and get a special camera attached
to my glasses so that I could take a snapshot by blinking my eye. So often I see things that pass far too
quickly to get even the simplest camera out and at other times it doesn’t seem
right to invade people’s lives so overtly.
Q’s camera would also need to be able to take video to capture so many
of the things that I have seen.
A bland description can never do justice to the sight of a
group of Form IV girls celebrating the end of their last examination with a
Tanzanian song whilst intricately weaving between each other on a patch of land
near the school. The moment has passed
to quickly for a camera when the bundle hanging strapped behind a mother
suddenly opens his eyes, with such enormous pupils, to stare in wonderment at
the Muzungu that has just hove into sight.
And on the negative side, even a picture would not adequately show the
fine bright red dust of Boza that seems to pervade everything and increases my
amazement that my students are always so beautifully turned out in spotless,
well pressed shirts and ‘ejabu’ (head coverings).
Anyway enough philosophizing, back to the story. I’m afraid I’ve slid back from my behavior
during the first weeks when I fasted during the twelve hour day from breakfast
to dinner. The fault lies with Mr
Mtoteli and also with Asha, one of my Form III students. Mr Mtoteli, you might remember, invited me to
his house for chapattis and when Asha informed me that they were also available
to purchase at break time, I decided to try one and it is becoming a habit. No plastic gloves and stainless steel here,
as you can see……
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| The kitchen |
…but the lady who cooks them is very pleasant and a quick
snack at 11:00 for 8p certainly fills a gap until the evening.
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| The Counter |
I sit under my
favourite tree to eat it and today Mr Mmari arrived to give me a bottle of
mango juice to wash it down. He
suggested that the moment be recorded for posterity and as I have managed to
avoid the wrong side of the camera for most of my time here, I could hardly
decline.
Another lesson followed and I won’t bore you with that; I’ve
done enough boring lessons over the years.
I have though been given the task of writing the end of year
examinations for both my classes, so that should be fun. They are certainly making sure they get their
money’s worth.
I eventually left school, cycled home and could finally
change into the shorts and flip flops that is my ‘chilling out’ attire. No more school for the day; or so I
thought. About an hour later I sat,
reading my kindle , with a coffee beside me, when I heard a mixture of calls of
Mr Stuart and Babu and looked up to see a mixture of pupils from my two classes
standing by the main building. The YMCA
had burnt out a volleyball court in the grass and the students had walked down
with Miss Mwandaida to try out the new facilities. What a lovely surprise.
We all wandered over to the ‘court’ and there we met the
first hurdle. Those big black ants had
eaten through one of the poles and at the merest pressure it collapsed leaving
a hole full of the pesky creatures. Not
to be deterred one of the workman came over and, totally ignoring the ants, set
do with a pickaxe and his hands to clear out the remains of the pole and make a
deeper hole. As the old pole would not
now be tall enough if sunk in the ground again, I did my part and wandered over
to the wood pile that Eva and Lucy had built over the previous days, and found
a suitable replacement. I toyed with the
idea of walking back with it balanced on my head but eventually common sense
prevailed. The net was a bit tatty as
well and sagged away from the wire but when packing my first aid/handyman kit
in UK I can remember thinking, “string is always useful,” so with the help of
Godfrey I tied the net in place.
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| The pole on the right is my contribution |
One of the Masai guards from next door wandered over and looked
as if he was itching to play but as he could have most likely jumped the net if
he had won, perhaps he was better simply watching. When Lucy came over to watch
as well, with twelve students playing and four spectators I tried to instigate
a Mexican wave in the crowd but with little success. The group stayed until dusk and then started
back on the walk to school. With no sun
roasting their backs and a group of them to chatter and joke, I’m sure not even
THE HILL would daunt them.
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| The obligatory team hand-shake. |
Baadaye
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