15th February 2010 - Green everywhere

Happy Valentine’s Day to all. I hope everyone enjoyed the day yesterday.

We’ve had some lovely rains in the past two weeks; none was too hard or destructive but nice and gentle just when needed. The green everywhere is so soothing to the eyes, and the little wild flowers that have begun blooming are so pretty. There are many butterflies and moths, and hordes of insects. One morning we found gazillions of little black bugs all over outside, and inside wherever they could manage to get in. They have an odor which isn’t all that pleasant, so we’ve been trying to get rid of them little by little. I don’t know where they hide when we sweep. When we think we’ve got them all swept up and turn around, there are a bunch more. It’s obvious that every living creature likes the rain as much as we do.

My flowers are beginning to bloom and they are lovely. They are a very common flower and grow very easily and fast; I don’t know what they’re called (maybe some kind of zinnia?). I should have put some more manure around when I planted them but I didn’t and even so they are still nice for the eyes. I have them in three different places: by the septic tank , on the side of the house, and outside the wall in front of the house between the gates. The ones on the side of the house are really spindly since the soil there is a mixture of left-over cement from when the house was built and pieces of rock. Still it’s amazing that they’ve grown at all.

I want to share with you an incident of a morning last week, one that happens over and over and typifies the spirit of hospitality one meets so often here in Tanzania. I had just arrived at school and was walking toward the teachers’ office when I met a woman. She is one of many who are working on the school compound, cleaning up the construction mess, carrying cement or water or whatever else needs to be moved from one place to the other, or doing any other odd job that might need to be done. These women come every morning with the hopes of being hired for the day, in order to get enough money to buy what is needed for herself and her children. She was carrying a cup of tea and a few maandazi (something like bread but is fried, maybe more like a doughnut) on a plate. When we greeted one another, she held out the tea and maandazi and said, “Njoo, tunywe chai,” meaning, “Come, let’s go drink tea.” Of course I thanked her, and then continued on my way, marveling all the while. Even after all these years of living here I still don’t have that same kind of spontaneous reaction that she has, the one that invites another person to share whatever she has.

Yesterday we were in church for three hours at a special Mass for the children who were joining the Holy Child Society. There were probably about 40 of them, dressed in white shirts/tshirts, some with yellow skirts or trousers, and all with a yellow headband on their heads. They danced in, and danced to all the songs that the choir sang, and were they ever dear. Some started out barefoot and some with shoes but by the end there were more bare feet than not. It was obvious that they had practiced a lot, and their gestures followed the songs so nicely. Everyone was so happy and joyful and singing and swaying along with the children. It was the long windedness of the Padre and the chairman of the parish council that made the time seem long; watching the children was a joy.

1st February 2010 – Fruit in Season

Every day, every meal, I seem to be making a remark about the wonderful fruit we’re eating these days. This month has us enjoying absolutely luscious mangoes, exceedingly sweet pineapple, and plums that are a wonderfully nice change. The mangoes that are big come from Tabora or Morogoro, and the smaller ones from Tanga region. Pineapples come from near Dar es Salaam, while the plums arrive from the mountains near Lushoto. You’ll note that none of this fruit comes from Dodoma where we live. This region is normally just too dry for such fruit, and so we get it trucked in from all these other places. There is something so extravagant about the mangoes and pineapples – they are just SO sweet, SO fleshy, SO juicy. I love going to the market and buying these things, interacting with the vendors who spend their day selling fruits, vegetables, rice, beans, everything under the sun. Most of the time I engage a young boy to carry my basket. They are always around asking to carry baskets of the people who are shopping, and so I usually give my basket to one of them who then gets a tip when we finish going around the market. The first time that I did that here after years away I didn’t know how much to give as a tip. I gave him 200/-and was looking for some more to give him when he said thank you and walked away! 200/- is about 15¢ US so I guess that won’t break the bank ….

These days there aren’t a lot of green vegetables like spinach sold in the market because since the rains have begun the native plants have come up and folks go out and pick them to cook for their green vegetable. However, not far from here is a windmill, and there are very small plots of vegetables, mostly spinach, that people grow there near the water source. It’s nice to go there in the evening to buy a couple bundles of spinach and then come home to cook it for dinner.

This week there were several homes destroyed in this section of the city, destroyed by a bulldozer. They were homes of the traditional type, with mud brick walls and either earth roofs or maybe some pieces of aluminum roofing sheets. If they had roofing sheets, those things were taken off first, and then the houses were destroyed. We don’t know the whole story but most folks say that these were houses of folks who had already been compensated for their land and given other land to move to but who hadn’t done that yet. And I don’t know if it was because these plots belong to someone else or if they are to be used for some development purpose. Anyway, two houses very near us were razed, but the people who lived there had another place and had moved the night before the bulldozer came. They’re very philosophical about it, so I suspect that they knew it was inevitable. I just hope justice was done.