Lunch

Another week has come and gone and we seem to be making headway with setting up businesses for some very unfortunate people who just need a bit of a hand to get started.

Yesterday I *met The Chicken Man. Nice guy. For the cost of his transport and a beer we arranged to meet and he shared a lot of what he knows about the chicken business. Interesting stuff.... only if you want to start a chicken business. The Chicken man has also agreed to give the ladies I am helping a lecture on chicken husbandry and to visit them on a regular basis to check everything is ok and help them out with any chicken related issues.

It really restores your faith in humanity when somebody like The Chicken Man who already does so much in a local orphanage, and has so little, is willing to give even more of himself without asking for anything in return. Life is tough here for the locals but there are still a lot of people willing to share what they can.

Very little goes to waste in this part of the world and that includes the food and especially the valuable meat resources. On Friday I discovered exactly what I have been having for lunch in the local restaurant for the last couple of week and bitterly regret finding out. It's not that I am surprised to learn brains, eyes, tongues etc., etc. are a staple ingredient in the dishes I consume, it's just I would rather not know!

*Of course he works on African Time and I waited for the best part of 3 hours for him to turn up!

Need I say more?

Ninety percent of the politicians give the other ten percent a bad reputation.

With all that has been going on around me for the last few weeks it was only yesterday that I realised that back in the UK there is an election looming large. An Australian lady reminded me it is in fact illegal not to vote in her homeland and was surprised by my total apathy when it comes to voting in this UK general election.

Sadly the current state of British politics leaves me cold but the political situation over here in East Africa is a lot more exciting. The general election is also just around the corner for the people of Tanzania who, on the face of it at least, are one of the very few unified countries in Africa.

The problems this country faces could be drastically eased with good governance and there is certainly evidence of progress out here. However, just like in any good political fight there are always sly tactics employed to grab the voters attention. The current government has just embarked on massive and very visible road restructuring programme. A lot of the mud roads are all-but washed away during the rainy season. Right around the town centre these roads are now being rebuilt. The whisper among the locals is that this is a prime example of the aforementioned vote winning tactics.

Be that as it may there is a noticeable improvement in the roads and whether it's a vote winning tactic or not everybody here is benefiting. On this basis my solution for a better Tanzania would be to hold an election every six months and then maybe even the railways would work by the end of next year....


Yesterday I was having a drink with a fellow volunteer who had been sent an email from a young girl, who is coming to Arusha to do voluntary work, asking him if he had any tips on what to pack.
When I asked him what he had advised her he replied without missing a beat;

"A rape alarm". I wonder if she's still coming?

In other news; On Sunday a colleague was accidently hit in the face by a bottle wielding maniac who was fighting off the police in Ngaramtoni where I am working. Obviously everybody was stunned to learn that there are in fact Police in Ngaramtoni! Also it looks like I will have to spend some time in the remand centre out here. Should be fun....

Power to the people.

The power has been off for two days now. The family I am, very kindly being hosted by, are accustomed to these money saving antics from the power *companies and the government and the only person who is phased by this interruption in service, is the eldest son who will be forced to miss his much needed fix of British football.


The Tanzanians seem to be football mad and I plan to go to a match this coming week to soak up the atmosphere and see another side of everday social life the locals enjoy. Sadly Arusha Town are not doing very well at the moment and I don't expect to see a stadium full of supporters.

Anyway can't say much more because there is no generator here and I can't charge my computer at the moment and the battery is running ou




*The power companies and the government are seen as the reasons for, what I have been told are deliberate, shut downs of the electricity grid in certain areas around Arusha.

It could be worse.....

...and for your viewing pleasure I have uploaded a picture of the outskirts of Ngaramtoni where I am working for the next few months.

Last night I attended a farewell gathering for a fellow charity worker who has been looking after children in a remand centre/prison just outside of town. We met for a couple of drinks in a locals bar near the charity office and then headed off to grab some food.

The staple diet of the people in and and around Arusha is rice and beans with bananas, tomatoes, onions and avocados being the standard fruit/veg on offer it would seem. The beans are normally stewed and if you can afford it you can have a beef stew in a rich sauce to compliment the rice. Last night however we were treated to some of the best street meat I have tasted anywhere in the world.

Mr Khan runs 'Khans The Garage' by day from a back street premises fixing cars and motorbikes with his helpers but, by night, he shuts up shop and opens 'Khans The Restaurant'. I have never had supper outside a garage before but I can highly recommend this place. Mr Khan puts up some tables on the street at around 18:00 and brings out his BBQs to start preparing whole marinated chickens and delicious lamb kebabs for any and all who have heard about his culinary skills. There is a buffet of lovingly prepared salads and chopped vegetables to appease your appetite whilst the meat is slow cooked over the hot coals and once you have your food you take a seat at the roadsid and devour with a fresh pint of mango juice.

Today I was browsing information on Arusha and I came across a reference to Mr Khans in the Lonely Planet guide to Tanzania. What I also discovered during my research was that The Lonely Planet has a top ten list of the worst cities in the world. This should be examined by any would be traveler and used accordingly. I only wish I had seen it before I left home. Yes, Arusha makes this top/bottom 10! Sitting firmly at number 8 in the list of 'places to avoid', a lot of the comments about the place are along the lines of "Things to do in Arusha? Leave as quickly as possible" and one of my personal favourites, simply, "Shit hole".

Now I think this ranking a little unfair and I can't agree with a lot of the comments I have read because there is a certain charm about the place, the people are amazing and where else in the world can you dine at a garage?

I am also constantly reminded that things could be a lot worse for these people and for myself because sitting at number 5 in the list of worst cities in the world is Wolverhampton (England). I am only glad the charity posted me to Arusha!!!

God is a thought who makes crooked all that is straight.

The last couple of days have been spent in Ngaramtoni which is where I have begun the process of starting small businesses for widows who look after their own children and those orphaned, as either a direct or indirect, result of the AIDS virus.

Ngaramtoni is not on a main road and can only be accessed via dirt tracks that would be considered impassable by most, not by the locals though. A steady stream of *Dala Dala's pours into and out of this ramshackle market town. There are very few brick buildings to speak of and it is mostly mud huts and tin/wood/straw dwellings that make up the towns shops and homes. The sewers are open and when it rains, which is every day at the moment, the turgid smell of human and animal waste fills the air and there is no way of avoiding tramping through the quagmire which is also ridden with the every day detritus that all towns create. There are goats, chickens, dogs and the occasional cow moving freely throughout. This is all fine with me though because I have been to Stoke-on-Trent and am well used to these sort of conditions.

I have been befriended by the local counselor/motel owner who is ensuring my work is aided and abetted by the locals. I am also working with another volunteer who is stationed in Ngaramtoni and staying with the aforementioned counsellor. I have not seen his home but, I can only imagine and hope that, it is a little more upmarket than the average. My colleague seems very well accustomed to the conditions and I would like to think I will be as settled as him by the end of the week.

The interview process for potential grant recipients has begun and the stories are nearly always harrowing and downright grim. We only have the physical capacity to help very few and it is clear that what is needed is a large scale project, of sustainable aid work, which it is just not possible to provide for the benefit of everybody. What is acutely upsetting, to me, is that for the most severely desperate and needy there is little that can be done because they are either too ill too help themselves or their social situation precludes them from the type of support we can offer.

Looking at the people in this shanty town it is impossible to understand the smiling faces that you see all around you and the constant greetings and hands that are offered in friendship and out of curiosity. Yet, unbelievably, overall I would have to describe this place as a happy one. Religion plays a very strong part in the culture of the people here, and for the sake of form I will not air my views on the subject in this public forum but, I have to share the limited picture that has been painted for me in this satellite town.

Despite the extreme poverty in Ngaromtoni the collection plate in the churches is always overflowing and it is clear that the devotion to God is a binding glue in the community. This devoted sense of giving jars strongly with what I have heard from all the interviews I have conducted so far.

None of the women I have spoken to have received any help from the church except for prayers and the hope that God will provide. It could be they wanted me to feel sorry for them and so denied their churches charity but, I doubt this was the case.

Today my guide took me to one of the few large, brick-built houses in the region, with modern windows and a nice garden, and very proudly announced it is being built for his pastor. It may well be that the leaders of the spiritual community in Ngaramtoni are in fact personally wealthy and my cynicism is misplaced, however, I have very grave doubts about this side of life in this town and about the tangible benefits that these particular religious outposts provide apart from for those at the top of the religious tree.

I hope that my colleagues and I and all of those who have generously donated their time and money to this idea for making things better out here are successful and I believe we can bring not only hope but, real and tangible changes to the area and to a handful, at least, of the people.

Of course I will keep you all informed and as soon as my large, brick-built house is completed you are invited to come and stay......




*Toyota vans crammed full to bursting point with locals, their produce and of course the obligatory, livestock up to the size of goats.

Hey, nice marmot!

I have a proper bog!

The family seem nice but, the three very angry sounding animals I can hear growling in the garden are certainly not marmots. I guess this kind of security guarantees nobody breaks in, even if they can scale the 6 foot high walled garden that is topped with gargantuan shards of glass. I am just mildly concerned the security team are unfamiliar with their new house guest and could easily consume me before their owner has a chance to call them off. O well.

This concern aside, and the fact my new home is in the middle of what any Westerner would describe as a *ghetto, I think I should count myself lucky. My room is large, smells fresh, there is a mosquito net and I am yet to see a cockroach. Luxury.


P.s. Anybody know where I can buy a gun?

*That maybe a rather too flattering description of the surrounding area. My taxi driver told me not to get out of the car whilst he knocked on the gate but, reassured me there is no racism in this area with the line "It's not just white guys that get robbed here"!