 |
 |
 |
 |
|
Revision of: Thu, December 6, 2007 |
|
|
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Memories of Tanzania Memories of every distribution for Sleeping Children Around the World [SCAW] are always quite different and precious. I liken them to a large string of beads — each bead bringing forth a separate and unique memory. This trip offered many beads for me to touch, full of wonderful memories.
This trip also afforded me, as team leader, the opportunity to speak with pupils of the schools where we held our distributions and to many of their parents. The parents were taking part in a SCAW evaluation questionnaire — an attempt to determine the value and usefulness of our bedkits so we can make needed changes where required. The message to the parents was different at each location but had a universal theme. I would say a sentence; then have it translated by one of our Tanzanian volunteers. We spoke for almost half an hour to groups of from sixty to over a hundred parents and fellow villagers at a time — stopping during our distribution so as to catch the largest audience.
The gathered parents heard that we represented people from the US, Western Australia, Ireland, Colombia, Mexico, and Canada. I explained the SCAW belief that that every child deserves a comfortable night's sleep. I recounted how one school had banded together — students and teachers — to raise funds for the bedkits the Tanzanian children would sleep in tonight. I spoke of the emotion in the eyes of the children in Canada and the need in the eyes of the children in Tanzania. I concluded by telling my new friends: "It is important for you to know and remember that there are other people in the world who care and love you very much." Their reactions were instant and profound. Another memory. In my best Swahili, under the guidance of our Tanzanian hosts, I presented a similar message to those most affected by our bedkits — the children. I told them: "Good morning, everyone. "We bring you greetings from the people of Canada as well as the other countries around the world who have sent us. We are here to make a tangible offer of friendship and love from all of these people to all of you. "We are bringing bedkits and long lasting mosquito nets to your homes so that you will be able to have a safe place to rest and sleep tonight and in the future. Unfortunately, not everyone will receive a bedkit, but we hope that those who do will share them. "These bedkits and mosquito nets were donated by churches, clubs, companies, "in memoriam," ordinary people, and children in schools just like this one. Schools are most active in their support. One school raised money by the children doing various small jobs at home. The teachers and children worked very hard because they knew that the reward would be a bedkit for you. The pictures we take today will go to every one of the people who gave a bedkit. "We are very proud and honoured to represent these people. These people care very much for all of you. "God bless you all." My message was universally well received and very much appreciated by the children and their teachers. They all applauded lustily with broad smiles of appreciation on their faces. Priceless memories. 
Children, the Most Precious Gift The Tanzanian children the SCAW team had the opportunity to meet were so special. We admired them for their attentiveness to duty and how orderly they were. They were pre-schoolers or from the primary grades. Every morning we would arrive at each school just about the same time: 7 AM. Many of the students had already arrived and some would gather around to greet us, all with curious looks on their faces. Much to my surprise, many of the children spoke English so we would exchange pleasantries. Some students, from all grades it seemed, brought a broom as a prominent part of their school gear. The brooms were made from the rib of the coconut leaf, bundled and all even at one end, secured tightly by a strip of the leaf. The students would stand in line beside each other, and then in unison they would swing the brooms to sweep away the dried leaves and any trash that had littered the school yard overnight. Although it was dusty, in no time the yard was clean. The distribution of bedkits took place at nine schools. All but one had a morning assembly called to order by the sound of a bell — actually a metal bar knocked against a hoisted motorvehicle rim. Next four of the older students would beat drums and all the students would start running to the assembly point and line up by grades. There was no pushing or jostling — everyone knew their position in line. A senior student or teacher would give cues for the pledge of allegience to Tanzania followed by the singing of the Tanzanian anthem and other songs. Their voices were so melodious. Then line by line they would march off to their classrooms with brooms, crude water bottles, school bags — mostly plastic shopping bags — and their meagre school supplies. Of course, on the day of a distribution, most classes were suspended. The students were just too excited One child in the neediest families received a bedkit. But before they could get their gift they would have their pictures taken. Then they moved to a station where one of us would draw a happy face on one thumb nail. Holding their hands to draw the happy faces, I noticed that some of the children had a high fever. But no one wanted to miss getting a bedkit. Apparently one child came out of hospital just to get a bedkit. Children not getting a bedkit looked very disappointed.
Many of the children had their hair cut very short and it was obvious that many had skin diseases that were untreated. Medical clinics are almost non existent in the rural areas. During all ten distributions we did not once see the children eat or drink. They don't bring lunchboxes to school and there isn't any sign of a kitchen on premises. Because it is extremely dry in most places we visited there is limited water to drink, let alone have a bath. Many of the children were dirty and barefoot. Some of their shoes showed signs of wear and tear with toes protruding, some were oversized, others undersized, still others of two different colours. It was very saddening when I reflected on the sound garments and shoes that are thrown out in North America. Because of the hardships they face, it was truly a rewarding experience for me to be able to present the valuable bedkits to these children on behalf of you, the donors, and to see the joy on 6,000 little faces.
"Thank you. God bless you." "Thank you. God bless you."
These words were spoken by a beautiful 10 year old girl as I handed her the bedkit that she had so looked forward to receiving. I was amazed and humbled at her poise and intelligence. We know how happy children are when they receive their bedkits. We wanted to actually see a bedkit in use and assess its purpose and value for ourselves. So our hosts took us far into the farmlands outside Dar es Salaam on our one rest day. We walked for two hours over paths that led to a small mud house with a roof of coconut palm leaves. The house was not much larger than a garden shed back home in Canada. A family with three small children met us. After exchanging greetings and receiving a warm karibu (welcome) each of us took turns stepping inside the tiny home. Our eyes took several moments to adjust to the darkness inside. There were two small one-foot square windows at each side of the structure. The coolness was an abrupt relief from the relentless heat outside.
On one side was the living area about six feet by seven feet. Beside this room was a cloth partition. As the curtain was parted we looked into a tiny sleeping room, and there it was: a SCAW bedkit, complete with mattress, sheets, a blanket, and mosquito net overhead. It was evident that this bed was one of the family's most prized possessions. Each night all three children slept here. After many smiles and assante sanas (thank yous) we departed, satisfied that this bedkit was bringing comfort and pride to this child and his family. The memory of the encounter with the lovely, young girl who spoke so graciously and with such dignity will always be special for me. I shall picture her dressed in her new pajamas, and feel certain that she will be sleeping soundly each night in the comfort of her new bed. The Upendo Aids Centre Our Overseas Volunteer Organization [OVO] in Tanzania is the Upendo Aids Centre. The director, Mama Wandoa, is an active lady in her early seventies with an energy level and enthusiasm for life that would put most of us to shame.
Mama Wandoa started the Upendo Aids Centre in 1994 when she became aware of all the individuals who were being diagnosed with HIV or full blown AIDS and were being sent home with no counselling as to their future — in other words, they were just being sent home to die. Mama started the Centre to give these people spiritual teaching and support and to show them that someone loved them and cared what happened to them. To try to get funding, Mama applied to have Upendo registered as a charitable organization. She was told by the government that she had to have some physical support included in the care that was being given to qualify. The Centre was registered as a charitable organization within a year. The Danish Embassy paid for Mama to go to a six-month course for HIV/AIDS counselling in Uganda. They gave her a four-wheel-drive vehicle so she could do home visits in remote areas to counsel clients and five thousand dollars to help fund the Centre. A priest and his congregation in the United States supported the Centre for ten years but the funding stopped shortly after he left the parish. Upendo's mission statement reads: "Upendo is a community-based registered grassroots NGO (non government organization) mobilizing and sensitizing the community to fight AIDS and to the care and support of HIV/AIDS infected and affected people." The Centre's activities include:
We had the pleasure of working with a number of the volunteers from the Upendo AIDS Centre. They are a wonderful group of people to be involved with and we enjoyed working with them and being entertained by them at a closing luncheon we all attended. Thank you all. Contrasts of Tanzania The sounds: Everywhere there is noise. At 3 AM it is the incessant barking of the neighbourhood dogs. At 4:15 AM it is the call to prayers at the mosque around the corner. Early in the morning it is the chatter of the birds. As we drive to the distribution in darkness it is the constant horn honking of the daladalas (minibuses) as they spew black exhaust into the air. And then there is the sound of the lapping water of the Indian Ocean as we watch a glorious sunrise each morning. The sights: On our daily travels we see shop after shop selling almost anything. Often there are several people in a row selling the same items. How do they eke out an existence? We see the women of Tanzania who take great pride in their appearance and look wonderful in matching head scarves and dresses of many hues. The struggles: Life certainly is a struggle for the average Tanzanian. Due to the severe drought, power is unreliable: on for two days, then off for two days. The smiles: But the memory I will cherish the most is without a doubt the happy children of Tanzania. Even driving along the highways they smile at us and wave. The children who receive SCAW's bedkits warm our hearts with beautiful smiles and assante sana (thank you) and "God bless you." Memories to treasure for a lifetime! Thank you donors for making all this possible! "We can do no great things ... only small things with great love." Getting Around In Tanzania Since we lived in an apartment in Dar es Salaam, and travelled to areas outside the city almost everyday, we had a chance to see the various ways Tanzanians move around the country. Many children walk to school. They are neatly dressed in freshly-pressed blue and white uniforms and wear slippers or laced shoes with coloured socks. A few go bare foot. A high percentage appear to be physically fit. It is an interesting sight to see groups of children holding hands as they meander through the grassed fields to school along pathways invisible from the street because of the long grass.
Men in rural areas often ride bicycles or use them to transport women and children, coal or water, or produce like sweet potatoes, cassava, and coconuts. The passenger sits sideways on a seat support over the rear wheel, facing the curb side. When a bicycle is used for transporting goods, large bags are strapped to the rear seat. Sometimes two or three 5-kg bags of coal are attached horizontally, one on top of the other. At other times, the bags with coal or coconuts might be balanced vertically one on each side of the rear seat, and one or more loads on the seat. Two-wheeled carts are used like wheel barrows to transport six or more 20-litre plastic containers of water to homes and businesses. Men usually push them in and around Dar es Salaam but pull them when transporting heavier loads. Tanzanians also use tricycles. These are modified bicycles with two rear wheels instead of one. In some cases the chain and pedals are on top in place of the handle bars so they can be pedalled by hand. Adults walk too — and transport heavy loads as well. It is common to see a woman walking with a ten-litre bucket of water or a wide basket of fruit and vegetables carefully balanced on her head. Sometimes a child is strapped to her back at the same time.
There is no public transit system so rush hour is often extended to all day and up to nine o'clock at night. Privately-owned daladalas transport Tanzanians for a minimum fee of 200 Tsh (20 cents Cdn). Passengers are packed into these vehicles that have been modified to seat nine or ten passengers comfortably. But during one of our distributions, we counted the number of children as the daladala dropped them off at the school: there were forty-four children and a few adults. And, of course, Tanzanians also travel in the thousands of cars and trucks you see every day. Although there are usually more than two people in each vehicle, continuous congestion seems to be everywhere on the main streets. Despite the traffic, there are relatively few accidents. We saw four minor fender-benders in the three and a half weeks we were there. None involved our vehicle.
|
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||
