It was quite early when we all set off with Fidelisi to see the family farm. He and one of his brothers, Gele, work it, with assistance from the others and from family and friends at busy times. The crops are maize and millet, and red sorgum, which Mama Gawe uses to make alcohol. Farms are started in the bush in places where the soil is more fertile and where the wet season waters will contribute to, rather than detract from the harvest. At this time of the year, in the late dry season, there is not so much to be done but there are the baboons and vervet monkeys, and human thieves to guard against. Secretly we hoped that the baboons would be there when we arrive, particularly as this is the basis of one of Sebi’s favourite stories about his babu (grandfather in Swahili). Fidelisi carried his bow and arrows, and shot off an arrow which flew swiftly through the air, as a demonstration for us.
The narrow sandy path winds up through the bush, with the tracks on it being those of a hyena, with the four claws showing clearly. We passed tall, red, termite mounds, and the most imposing trees in the district, the baobab trees. It is the custom for the umbilical chord to be buried under a tree when it falls off, and it is from this custom that Gele takes his name, Gele being the Sandawe word for the baobab tree.
The farm is quite extensive, with Fidelisi beginning to clear another area which will be burnt in preparation for crops later. When I say extensive, I mean that it is well beyond garden size but not broad acres. 
Everything here is done by hand with a hoe. The farm provides the family with food and sometimes some is left over for bartering or sale. A low structure that looks like a hut is really a form to dry the crops on. 
Above: millet Below: red sorgum
Once dry they will be prepared for storage and for eating. Another low hut made of sticks has a roof on it, a stick table at one end and a still glowing fire at the other, and it all the shelter that Fidelisi and Gele need for their long days out at the farm.
We left Fidelisi, who did have to chase off monkeys shortly after we departed, and made our way back via the shop. I wanted to purchase another zip, and luckily they had the right colour, even if it was a little long. I enthusiastically cut it to the right length and sewed it in while Keith had a sleep, only to discover that I had cut off the wrong end. What a dill! And now the lady at the shop would think that I had a zip fetish if I went back and made the purchase of another, after only an hour.
Ticha and Gele came home on the bus – amid much rejoicing to have them back. Gele’s wrist is still bandaged but is much better and he and Ticha had had enough of waiting it out in Dodoma.
Keith headed off for a session on the computer with Mr Chalala – yes it was Saturday but Mr Chalala lives at the school and we only have a bit over two weeks, so it was a good uninterrupted opportunity to cover a lot of ground. Later they returned, on their way to a political meeting in the village, where Mr Chalala had to be on hand as the head teacher of the Secondary School. I joined them, with Keith and me having little idea of what was in store for us, but excited to be out and about. We had been so busy that we had not yet even walked down the hill to the centre of the village.
A long row of chairs was set out under a shady tree, with a table in the middle. We were introduced to all the people on the chairs, important locals including Mr Costa, the village chairman, the ex-village chairman, the Primary School head teacher, various local members of the CCM party, and of administration of the village, and a delightful older man called Matthew, who spoke excellent English, having worked for the government for many years, who offered to translate for me. Keith sat beside Mr Chalala and we were on the end of the line of dignitaries. Plastic chairs were set out in rows under shade opposite, and gradually people filled them up and all the spaces in between and beside a building. It was quite a crowd and I was conscious of several people pointing at us in a ‘Who are they?’ manner. I longed to be sitting beside Gracia, who was laughing and joking with all the women around her on the plastic seats.
At last the politician arrived and it was Pasqual Constantine Degera, who we had met the night before. He worked his way along greeting the dignitaries and, in true political style, welcomed us as if we were old friends. It set us at our ease a little.
The meeting was very long and covered many issues. Mr Degera spoke well, without any notes, starting out with greetings, which were answered in unison, and moving on to questions about how the harvest had gone. The replies were that it had not been so good, giving the opening for advice on planning for survival needs first and cash crops second. He explained the reasons behind the government’s support of Community Based Organisations, with loans being made to groups who work on projects together, and then form a group of those groups to access money. It was all about the village looking at projects themselves and setting priorities, about people being empowered at local level. 
When question time came there were a couple of irate people who were laughed at by the crowd and whose words Matthew declined to translate. The former party chairman handed in his membership card and things became quite dramatic. 
The next question was long winded, as an old lady asked the Member of Parliament why the students had been late home from the Secondary School most days of the week. More serious were the allegations that the 5000 shilling per head education levy that was necessary for the viability of the secondary school, was not being paid by all and that the local police were collecting it by force or taking goods instead. Mr Degera listened to all before standing up and giving his answers. He remained calm and explained his ideas. At the end of the meeting he was whisked away in his vehicle to prepare for his trip to Dodoma, and the crowd melted quickly.
The Chief Executive of the village decided that the abusive and disrespectful behaviour of the two irate men required some time in the lock up. One had run off earlier and couldn’t be found, but for the other one, no sooner had the decision been taken than he was grappled to the ground and literally dragged off struggling. Later we heard that his behaviour had been considered so bad that he was being taken to the nearest police 40 kilometres away, would be tried and sentenced and may even be given a gaol term of up to a year. We were really surprised, since his tone and volume had not seemed to indicate anything that warranted such a reaction, but apparently his ignoring the chairman and what he said were considered most offensive.
Back up the hill again, Keith called over to the Mission for the computer, and I had a shower as dusk fell. It is always better to be able to see how dirty your feet are when you have a wash from a bucket, and whether there is still shampoo streaming from your hair before you stop tipping pannikins of cold water rinse over your head, but it was amazing how ‘fresh as a daisy’ feeling I felt, even a wash in the dark. The toilet chooks took an interest at first but soon had to rush off to roost, leaving me to my own devices.
The skin on my feet is rough and dry and there are two holes in my soles, from too much walking about in thongs in gravel and sand. I have lots of bites on me but Keith has none, so I am hoping for the best. Malaria is common in Tanzania, but it is the dry season and there a very few mosquitoes around.
We feel as if we have met so many people and have jumped into everything in the deep end, but we haven’t drowned and we are I feel pretty exhilarated by it all. Keith’s back is on the mend, and he even carried Sebi on his shoulders for a while this morning. Tomorrow is Sunday, but not a day of rest – we will be up with the birds for 7.30 mass.
The boys enjoyed playing with their new soccer ball, even after it got a puncture on the second day.
A common tree in this area. It is a succulent plant, like a giant cactus and it is said to be poisonous.
Termite mounds are common in Tanzania. This one is on Fidelisi's farm. They are said to be a favourite hiding place for the deadly black mamba snake.
Young children are often responsible for the care of their younger siblings.
The new house for Ticha's parents continues to make progress. No machines are used in this construction.
Fidelise sits by the fire around which the family often gathers around in the evening. This fire is sometimes used for cooking. Christine and Sebi are enjoying the company of a four day old kid.
This is one of the local shops. Note the bars at the counter.
This lizard emerged from under a rock at the school one day. Even though it was Saturday, there were children in the school grounds and one promptly found a stick to kill the lizard. Keith stopped the 'hunting' in order to take the photo and he doesn't know if it escaped or not.
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