Note: For pictures associated with this blog entry, see the Atlantic Bay Sotheby's International Realty "
Real Estate News Blog."
Saturday, April 10
Terri gave birth at 10:30pm at Aga Khan Hospital in Dar es Salaam on April 9th. Mom and baby are doing well and should be home Sunday the 11th. Caito and Terri are leaning towards naming their daughter, Nadia but that’s not definite yet. The baby is 7 1Ž2 lbs. The baby was due April 15th but Terri told me she was hoping to deliver early so I could meet the baby. We both got our wish.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
I sent out my last journal entry but I am sure some of you would be interested in an update of the Uwamaba Group job initiative to which so many of you gave so generously.There was a great deal of excitement today at the meeting. I think they were surprised to see how quickly it all came together. Terri and I were greeted with a great deal of passion. As each name was called there was much applause as the recipients received 100,000 Tanzanian shillings each, approximately $75 US. You would have thought we were handing out $100,000 the response was so joyful. The lone man in the group had a smile from ear to ear and thanked us enthusiastically. The women, most with tears in their eyes, as they received the money took our hands in theirs. As they quietly uttered heartfelt asante sanas they each curtsied. Terri said that is a custom here and is saved for the times of extreme gratitude. They then signed their names to a paper agreeing to reinvest 10,000 shillings each by the end of May to keep the program going and enroll others from Uwamaba’s membership. I have a great deal of faith that this program can be expanded and sustained with no further outside contributions. Any additional money that comes in, that is earmarked for Uwamaba, will be used as intended and launch other people before May. I have seen that money earmarked for any Baobab program goes exactly to the program the donor requests. My hope is upon my return that some of you would interested in getting together to brainstorm about raising money to fund some of the other worthwhile programs that Baobab has initiated, particularly the clinic breakfast program which I have run personally since my arrival. That program costs about $200 per month and pays for the uji, a cook three times a week, firewood or charcoal and transport of the supplies to the clinic kitchen 3 days a week. We feed approximately 300 people per week and as I have stated this may be the only meal of the day for many of them. If you are interested in this or any other program please email me after April 20th. Asante Sana!
Sunday, April 4
My time here is winding down and as in all things the 3 months, which looked like an eternity in January, flew by as quickly as any 3 month period in anyone’s life. I am both ready and not at all ready to return.
The last week has been extremely busy setting up the mobile HIV testing in some of the more remote villages. The logistics are complicated but I believe we have a good system in place which might need some tweaking but is solid overall. Last Tuesday was the first testing day at a remote site and unfortunately I was dealing with extreme intestinal distress and could not make the trip. Katie, our incredibly competent volunteer from Minnesota, went in my stead and did a great job. There were nurses, counselors for any people that tested positive and several of the street boys as interpreters with great cajoling skills. Terri’s husband, Caito, who is skilled in sound design, made sure that there was great music in the attempt to draw people. Baobab even had a fairly new bicycle that was raffled off. You had to be tested to enter. About 75 people were tested, a very good turnout. Overall, a very successful day with several people who tested positive on medication already. There will be a comprehensive follow up which will probably not take place until after I leave but I will be kept in the loop by email.
This last full week we will be meeting with the Uwamaba group to hand out the money to the 10 people selected for the business initiative. Both Terri and I are really excited to be able to spend more time with these interesting, ambitious people. We will also be strategizing about Baobab’s future funding and the possibilities for grant and public money. In the middle of all this Terri is still sick and is minutes away from delivering her baby. I really don’t know how she does it.
We’re now in the rainy season and there is a definite change in the weather pattern. At least two or three times a day huge, dark clouds build over the Indian Ocean rising to towering heights. They then roll into Bagamoyo accompanied by tremendous lightning and booming thunder. Then the skies open up. These bursts of rain are of short duration but the intensity and volume is something to behold. The dirt roads become muddy torrents within minutes and then as suddenly as these storms blow up, they end and the skies are sunny again with not even a hint of a breeze.
As I said, it will be hard to say goodbye as much as I’m looking forward to cooler, drier temperatures, a comfortable bed, good food, roads that don’t rattle your teeth out of your head, electricity that is on for more than 12 hours straight, I would come back next month if I could. The things that draw me back are all related to the people and the children I have been blessed to meet. Of those children I will miss Faiza, Habibu, Shobani, Neema and little Amina from the clinic, most of all but I haven’t even mentioned the countless others, as this is a community filled with beautiful children. I will never forget the resiliency of those that have been abused, neglected, infected with HIV and forgotten. Knowing the history of many of these little souls and seeing them light up and thrive, because of the people associated with Baobab, gives me hope that they will have lives filled with love and safety instead of terror no, matter how long they are in this world.
Then there are the adults. I will sorely miss my special friend Halima, the young passionate warrior who now in her later years is a foster mother beyond compare. I will miss her songs her hugs and always 3 kisses on the cheek and that she embraced me from the start. She is truly a miracle worker taking damaged, abandoned children and transforms them through the power of her love, affection and determination. These transformations are amazing to behold, no, her magic is really beyond belief. Ally and Assia the courageous founders of the Uwamaba support group, with 526 members, are people are such dignity and are inspiring in ways that are hard to believe. The stigma around HIV is so prevalent here and yet they are living their lives honestly and openly, encouraging others to do the same. I am grateful to Dr. Ayam, Rigobert and nurse Mama Mpondo who struggle to give the best health care possible in a hospital so depressing that it defies description. The street boys who have been such a joy to be around and all so incredibly giving, George, Mugin, Ema, William, Yaseeni, Pascal, Bennard and Benedictor. Young men who formed their own family when their biological families either rejected them or were ravaged by AIDS. I will never forget the woman, bed ridden with an inoperable spinal tumor giving us a gift of two eggs after visiting with her. I can still see her makeshift wheelchair, a white plastic lawn chair with bicycle wheels. The young woman with advanced TB and HIV infections stumbling after us after visiting her so she could walk us to the edge of the village.
There are sights that are part of the day to day, women carrying all sorts of goods on their heads, the colorful kangas that women wear, women bent over at the waist everywhere doing household chores. They sweep with short handled brooms, do quantities of laundry by hand, work in the fields bent over at the waist with knees locked and they work in that position for hours. Then there are the young men offering inexpensive transport on their piki pikis, motorcycles which they ride without helmets. The older men of Bagamoyo with their impeccable manners and command of the English language. Most everyone you meet greeting you with habari, jambo, or shikamoo and karibu, (welcome) always. Babies carried on women’s backs securely in place, sleeping soundly. The other worldly sound of muezzins calling the faithful to prayer 5 times a day. Hiring a bajaji when it was too hot to walk and enjoying the breeze when there was no natural breeze. A trip anywhere in town is a maximum of $1.50 no matter how far. Students practicing dance or playing tribal drums at the art college. The huge Monday market with hundreds of people and everything imaginable for sale. The herds of cattle and goats walking the dirt roads of town and sauntering down the beach on the Indian Ocean. The fishermen in their dhows, with their elegant sails, evocative of ancient times. There are the beautiful African mornings when the air is still and the sun is not yet broiling, the light is soft and tinged with pink. The smell of wood smoke permeates the air as people prepare uji outside their homes over small fires. The sounds of farm animals, cows and roosters the most vocal. The first sight of school children in their uniforms making their way to class. It is all in slow motion, like a dream, it is always too hot to hurry. I will miss walking everywhere in this town without fear. I have walked alone in every neighborhood at all times of the day or night and have never once worried for my safety. I will miss watching soccer with Terri’s husband and his friends. Caito’s smile and his effort to include me have been most appreciated.
I will never forget Steve, my 15 year old friend who died so tragically on Feb. 11th. It seems like a long time ago. We talked every day and it was obvious to me that even in his terrible physical distress he welcomed my visits. We played video games but more often just sat there quietly enjoying each other’s company. He would often reach out and take my hand and I know he loved the back rubs we all gave him. I can still see him on that wild bajaji ride careening down the shoulder of the highway so nonchalant as though he made that trip every day. Our outing to the movies when he was so ill I had to carry him through the mall to the bathroom. People stared, many I’m sure found us to be a very unlikely pair but most, I feel, had a full understanding and sympathy for a dying boy. I think of him every day and the loving tribute of his funeral service, attended by 100 people. The unexpected beauty of the women’s voices on the bus ride to Steve’s grandmother’s home and those voices being joined by the voices of the women already inside the house will echo in my ears forever. The kindness showed to me by everyone there, a stranger really, having only known Steve for two weeks. I am still haunted by the explanations of Steve’s death “well, after all this is Africa or “AIDS did not kill Steve, Africa did” or “he died of Africa”. All repeated over and over like a perverted mantra. It remains just a tragedy to me, senseless but avoidable in the west.
More than anyone I’ve had the pleasure to meet I am heartsick about leaving Terri. I don’t believe I have ever admired anyone as much as I admire her. Her belief that every life is worth saving and there are no hopeless situations, even though they are all around her here, is awe inspiring. She has created an organization that is truly committed to the community, not to just one segment or group, but to all. She believes the strength of this town lies in it web of connectedness. I see the benefits of this approach and I see how the money is used and there are no administrative costs. Terri often uses her own funds if there is a shortfall through Baobab. I look on her as a sister and know we will always be part of each other’s lives. I will miss our late night strategizing and our shared joy when we feel in synch over a project. I hope I am here to see the birth of her second child. There’s not much time for that to happen, we’ll see.
I believe I chose wisely when I decided to work with Terri and Baobab. This has been an incredibly fulfilling endeavor. I have worked harder here than I ever have in my life as the conditions were so difficult at times. Sometimes the heat and humidity were so intense it was hard to breathe but every day I saw at least one thing that made it all bearable. I have a new appreciation as to how easy my life is at home and a renewed gratitude for that abundance. I have never been hungry, abused, abandoned, or lived without plumbing or electricity or with holes in the roof or crumbling walls. I hope I remember to be grateful.
This is my last journal of this remarkable adventure and I would like to acknowledge and thank from the bottom of my heart my friends and family at Atlantic Bay Sotheby’s. They have supported this journey of mine from its inception. They have offered nothing but encouragement and contributed generously to Baobab Home. So thank you, (in alphabetical order) Alan, David, Emily, Gregg, Leslie, Lincoln and Sue. I love you all. Thank you to the Provincetown Banner for printing many of my journal entries in their internet version and expanding awareness. Finally, thank you to everyone that took the time out of their busy lives to read this journal. If nothing else I hope it has increased your understanding of life in a small Tanzanian town. A special thank you to all those who contributed to the job initiative project. I have tried to send a personal email to all who contributed and if I missed you I will get one out soon as Terri and will be going over the final list of contributors in the next few days. I hope you will continue to care about Baobab Home and the people of Bagamoyo. If anyone is interested in becoming involved, or more involved, please email me after I return April 20th. The work does not end when I return and the need will remain tremendous. I will be coming back.
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