this post was started in the middle of december, but a busy schedule and long list of "to do's" has dominated my attention ... so it's tardy.
color me happy ... december 18th marked not only the halfway point for my work in Tanzania but also the first time i left the village for a reason other than a) renewing my visa or b) attending biweekly meetings in Korogwe. the impetus was to observe a permaculture site called "kesho leo", installed by an Australian organization called Food, Water, Shelter to serve as a fully sustainable living environment for orphans and childless "mamas" to care for them. the primary goal of our visit was to ensure that we've thought of all of the possible approaches to water conservation and soil improvement before breaking ground on our permaculture project in Kwakiliga. there is no better way to do so than bounce ideas off of others with similar agricultural experience. and ... its wonderfully convenient that this research took me to Arusha, a lush and beautiful city serving as a conveniently relaxing home base for a few days. DARN. upon arriving in Arusha after a long bus journey, sarah and i walked into the lounge of l'oasis hotel and immediately started beaming. wonderfully over-sized chairs were my throne for an unknown (perhaps shameful) period of time. scalding hot, high-pressured shower heads prompted me to bathe unnecessarily frequently. two australian travelers who summited Mt Kilimanjaro, simon and kevin, entertained us with good conversation and drinks for the better part of our stay (and generously offered an enormous donation upon their departure). and, in the end, i was simultaneously shocked at the niceties surrounding me and how quickly i found comfort in them.
kesho leo was "something else". to get there, it involved taking a dala dala, which is a minivan used for short transport and which packs people in numbers reminiscent to a clown car. we rode it until the end of the line, then walked along a dirt road flanked by farmland until spying what can only be described as the quintessential "farmer joe", a white dude in a jam-band t-shirt and straw hat (i.e. hard to miss). it is hard to express the scale of Food, Water, Shelter's permaculture endeavor because it encompasses all aspects of daily life: passive solar home building with sustainable wood, rainwater collection, methane cooking gas, composting toilets, and the garden itself (shown at left). the flip side is that the project is extremely well funded and extensively planned, but only 20 mothers and children are being supported. thinking of it in terms of comparison ... we are throwing very little money into our production system and plan to (eventually) help hundreds. let's hope our theory works! to resume the narrative of kesho leo, the permaculture plot itself is easily replicable: it uses indigenous plant varieties for food, African marigolds for insect diversion, banana trees for shade, and animal manure for plant nutrition. most useful of all, the farm manager was in the midst of digging swales into a larger plot, the purpose being to more evenly distribute water amongst unlevel farm plots and thus prevent water logging or loss. this is a concept we're currently incorporating into a lesson plan for Kikundi, in the hopes that it can be used both in the permaculture plot and eventually in larger farms with steeper aspects.
we managed to return to Kwakiliga just in time for christmas, which was my first spent away from family ... and only the second without mom. it was tough, in every sense of the word, because i'm quickly learning of my association with sweaters and the holidays, pine trees and christmas morning, impatience and the knee-jerk response of releasing dogs into my sister's room to wake her for opening gifts. though different this year, it was no less memorable. i awoke at 6:00 a.m. to fix the punctures in our bike tires in preparation of a 9:00 a.m. ride to Komsala which is a few kilometers away. i didn't realize that these plans also involved me carting mama mcharo, my Tanzanian mother, to church on the back of my bike ... precious cargo is an understatement. the church was constructed of bare logs and a thatched roof, providing an open air view of the passing Masai herders and their cattle. it also housed a congregation that sang Silent Night in swahili when we approached ... this was the strongest sensation of "christmas" i felt all day, however if i REALLY reach for comparisons to western christmas cliches, here are a few: sarah and i felt like gleeful kids whose bikes, this being the first time they were ridden, were gifted that morning, the town was swarming with jovial drunks and annoying uncles, and i stuffed myself with starchy foods in such abundance i needed to be rolled home in the figurative mcharo family wheelbarrow. considering i was unable to be with my own family for the holidays, i find myself endlessly thankful that i could spend it with the mcharos, who are as close to a surrogate as one could hope.
color me happy ... december 18th marked not only the halfway point for my work in Tanzania but also the first time i left the village for a reason other than a) renewing my visa or b) attending biweekly meetings in Korogwe. the impetus was to observe a permaculture site called "kesho leo", installed by an Australian organization called Food, Water, Shelter to serve as a fully sustainable living environment for orphans and childless "mamas" to care for them. the primary goal of our visit was to ensure that we've thought of all of the possible approaches to water conservation and soil improvement before breaking ground on our permaculture project in Kwakiliga. there is no better way to do so than bounce ideas off of others with similar agricultural experience. and ... its wonderfully convenient that this research took me to Arusha, a lush and beautiful city serving as a conveniently relaxing home base for a few days. DARN. upon arriving in Arusha after a long bus journey, sarah and i walked into the lounge of l'oasis hotel and immediately started beaming. wonderfully over-sized chairs were my throne for an unknown (perhaps shameful) period of time. scalding hot, high-pressured shower heads prompted me to bathe unnecessarily frequently. two australian travelers who summited Mt Kilimanjaro, simon and kevin, entertained us with good conversation and drinks for the better part of our stay (and generously offered an enormous donation upon their departure). and, in the end, i was simultaneously shocked at the niceties surrounding me and how quickly i found comfort in them.
we managed to return to Kwakiliga just in time for christmas, which was my first spent away from family ... and only the second without mom. it was tough, in every sense of the word, because i'm quickly learning of my association with sweaters and the holidays, pine trees and christmas morning, impatience and the knee-jerk response of releasing dogs into my sister's room to wake her for opening gifts. though different this year, it was no less memorable. i awoke at 6:00 a.m. to fix the punctures in our bike tires in preparation of a 9:00 a.m. ride to Komsala which is a few kilometers away. i didn't realize that these plans also involved me carting mama mcharo, my Tanzanian mother, to church on the back of my bike ... precious cargo is an understatement. the church was constructed of bare logs and a thatched roof, providing an open air view of the passing Masai herders and their cattle. it also housed a congregation that sang Silent Night in swahili when we approached ... this was the strongest sensation of "christmas" i felt all day, however if i REALLY reach for comparisons to western christmas cliches, here are a few: sarah and i felt like gleeful kids whose bikes, this being the first time they were ridden, were gifted that morning, the town was swarming with jovial drunks and annoying uncles, and i stuffed myself with starchy foods in such abundance i needed to be rolled home in the figurative mcharo family wheelbarrow. considering i was unable to be with my own family for the holidays, i find myself endlessly thankful that i could spend it with the mcharos, who are as close to a surrogate as one could hope.