Farkwa, Tanzania, Wednesday September 24th

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This morning, Gracia kindly took our phone along with others in the family, to the phone tower to be recharged. Before it went we took out the sim card, as advised, so that no-one can use the credit or our phone numbers.

When I arrived at school, Madam Simbee was doing correction in the staff room, so I went in to the form fours and worked with them individually, correcting their drafts for their photo project texts.Not everything had gone to plan, so we sorted out who still had photos to take and to be saved on the computer. Keith was in the office with both computers being used for tuition, but he had agreed that if I sent students in, he would save their photos into their folders for them. I sent notes of what needed to be done with each student, but they had not met Keith beyond seeing him on the first day, and so they were very shy and did not show him the notes. He just took the camera and saved the photos en masse, which meant that I had to make another time later when I could go with the students and do the task.

The students were now onto rehearsing their oral reading, and as a group we corrected pronunciation, which included problems of the ends of words being swallowed and for other words, the sound ‘ee’ being added at the end. It was so exciting after the break when I took in the computer and we set the chairs up so that everyone could watch.

The students whose photos had been correctly saved, read their texts, at the same time using the arrows on the computer to move through the photos. The greatest challenge was to be able to do a double click with the mouse to open a folder, and that was after mastering the mouse to get the arrow on to the folder in the first place. There was much hilarity and loads of advice from those who had (and those who hadn’t) had a turn. Mr Chalala came in to witness this special event, and made a very sweet speech congratulating the students on their progress and use of the technology in studying English. Previously very shy girls volunteered to re-run their photos and texts, vying with the now very confident boys. Of course the second runs were much better, with the photos of the girls dying now synchronising with the reading of the text of what happens to you if you don’t eat, and the farmer’s marketing photo being at the same time as the reading about negotiating a price for the crop.

The form three texts were ready for me to type and their photos had been taken and copied onto our computer. At last my camera was finished with for the day, and having declined a school lunch since I would have been catered for at home, I set off down the hill after two o’clock. Rosie was at the tailor, Mama Rosie’s, next door, discussing her new outfit for the celebrations on Sunday. She had some beautiful Maasai material that she had bought at the market. It is customary here for women to be called Mama and the name of their first born, so Rosie is Mama Sebi and Mama Rosie’s first born is called Rosie (a common name in this community). Ticha and I chatted while I ate.

The hectic pace of the morning gave way to the rhythmic hand washing of our few clothes and the easy chatting that Rosie and I enjoyed together. So many of Rosie’s experiences as a mother of young children had been mine and are probably fairly universal in Australia. It threw into contrast the communal nature of child care here and the lack of busy activities involving driving here and there, supermarket and other shopping, classes for this and that and a pace of life that interrupts sleeps and feeds. Sebi and Jarvah were often with their cousins or uncles and aunts, and there were people on hand to mind them if Rosie was busy or needed to go somewhere. Jarvah would be brought back when he was tired or hungry, and Sebi would come back for a more complicated variety of reasons, and often in tears. So, in a way, there was a lot of respite, but when the children were around in the late afternoons, it would often be the times when there was conflict, grizzles, tiredness and food to deal with.

I asked Rosie and Ticha if it would be all right for me to lend Pius and Freddy my camera so that they could take some photos of their own to take to Australia with them. We had talked about having albums for their own memories and also to show the new people they met in Australia about their life in Africa. Pius, who was at home, was very excited, and after a brief lesson he was off.As it turned out, it provided a kind of marker of change and suddenly everyone was focussed on the impending departure of the boys. All the older cousins had fun with the camera. When a photo is taken, people always want to see what it looks like, and a small audience enjoys following the photographer around and looking at the results. So Pius had sudden celebrity status, but so did all the other cousins who took turns to capture each other in various poses. Over their last days in the village, Pius and Freddy would come and collect the camera when it was not at school, and go off to record their own images of home.

My trip to see Mama Rosie was postponed when Sebi woke up not feeling very well and then Jarvah wanted a feed at the same time. Ticha and Rosie swapped and re-swapped children as they tended to their needs. Sebi was given some Panadol, which helped. Medication of any kind, including ointments, is called ‘dowa’, and after Sebi repeatedly said that he needed more, and Rosie and Ticha said that he couldn’t have more, the word is indelibly imprinted on my mind. Perhaps three year olds would make the best language teachers!

An hour later, all had changed; Jarvah was playing and Sebi had cheered up. He came with Rosie, Hawa, Gracia, Maria and me to see Mama Rosie. She has a tiny front room for her business and is a ‘fundi’, the word for a skilled tradesman (or woman) in any sphere. We all squeezed in and perched on her couch. I handed over my material and explained, and was translated by Hawa and Rosie, that I liked the style of Madam Simbee’s black dress with the yellow spots on it. Mama Rosie knew the one. I showed a drawing just to be sure we were of the same mind. Everyone was impressed with the drawing and even more so when I produced one on the spot to check if I had correctly understood Gracia’s suggestion. Meanwhile, Maria had raced off to someone’s house to borrow a dress in that style so I could try it on. I put it on over my skirt and top and modelled it. Lots more laughter. The dress had no seams other than side seams, a scooped neck and sleeves that were cut to wide points at the elbows. After much thought, Mama Rosie now attempted a drawing, much to everyone’s amusement, since it gave me one massively bulbous arm. As a compromise between the two styles, but with a higher neck and long sleeves for sun protection, it was perfect. My measurements were taken swiftly, with none of them being written down until the end. Amazing!

Gracia and Hawa negotiated their outfits, with Gracia making some points as mother that Hawa did not sound as if she was agreeing with. Mama Rosie was going to make four outfits before Sunday and she was going to have a try at making me a hat to go with my dress. We left her and her treadle machine to it, but when we stepped outside, we realised that four of us had the same thongs and that only Rosie could reclaim her pink ones with confidence. We took some photos of this light hearted and very memorable moment.

After a while Keith returned, escorted by Mr Chalala. We discussed the custom of the multiple greetings used in Tanzania and Mr Chalala told us about an American colleague of his. He thought the whole thing was a complete waste of time, with up to ten minutes being spent on every person you met and a short walk taking a long time. I told Mr Chalala how one of the joys of Inverleigh was that it could take more than an hour to go to the shop, ten minutes from our place, if you had the pleasure to meet people. We were agreed that it leads to good feelings and that it is important to ‘give’ time to people. This is different to the concept of such a practice ‘taking’ time, with the implication that it is robbing time from much more important things. Finally Mr Chalala asked permission to leave, which we granted, and it was tea time.

Hawa was eating with us, and we all enjoyed Rosie’s story of the buffalo that came to the bucket outside her tent to try to get water, when she worked here as a safari camp manager, and when she met Ticha. There is nothing more conducive to story telling than a flickering flame, and the kerosene lantern provided one. I made up a story of five brothers who didn’t get on and how their problems were solved by a moth, using shadows on the wall as well. We all enjoyed that, especially the bits when I had no idea what to make up next and then would think of a solution. It was a lovely evening for us story tellers and listeners, and something that is so much fun to do with Sebi. Keith was looking at the typing tutor program that had come with the computer so that he could show it to the teachers the next day. The final word of the day went to Sebi, who said that he needed more ‘dowa.’

In the dry season farmers prepare new land by burning the grass and shrubs then removing the trees. Sometimes the stumps or even whole trees are left in what will be a new paddock.

Below: Farkwa food

The blue containers are like vacuum flasks, keeping the food hot for a long time.

Ugali is made from maize or millet. It is ground extensively before being made into a paste which is cooked until it is very thick (about the consistency of play dough).

The bowl of ugali is usually shared. Each person takes a small amount and moulds it into a scoop shape.

It is then used to help pick up some of the other food (if there is any). This green vegetable is collected in the local bush and is quite tasty, despite its resemblance to slime. At school the normal lunch is ugali and beans (like baked beans in a very thin sauce).

On this occasion we also have some potato in a sauce. Food such as this or meat pieces can be picked up with the right hand, or you could use some ugali to help pick it up.

The new house continues to make rapid progress.