My first shark!

Sunday September 30

When I first thought of this journey and the fact that I would be away from family and friends for three months, I must admit that up there with the major sacrifices was the knowledge that I would miss seeing Featherstone Rovers play in their third consecutive Grand Final.  After the reports of today’s game possibly the sacrifice was worth it but it still hurts to see the result.

A quite day for me here so time to gather my wits and philosophise.  All my life one of my favourite singer/song writers has been a folk singer from my youth called Tom Paxton.  When I have a guitar to play, I usually turn to one of his pieces first to loosen my fingers and focus my mind.  I have no guitar here, and can’t find anyone else with one, so I have no opportunity to practice the pieces but this morning a verse from one of his songs came to mind.  It is from a love song called “My Lady’s a Wild Flying Dove’ and the words of one verse go –

She tells me she's learning 
Just how full her cup can be 
she asks me to help her 
But I know, she's teaching me.

No, I haven’t found a lady friend, Chez, I’ve got the best already, why look?  It just illustrates how I feel at the moment about my trip to Tanzania, the she in the verse.  I supposedly came as the ‘ticha’ to use what skills I possess to help in the local school and yes, I feel I am doing that; but I feel I am learning far more than I am imparting. Seeing a different lifestyle, not better, not worse, just different, with different values and expectations. I haven’t been here for even three weeks yet so it is far too early to be able to comment deeply on what I see around me, but certainly I feel that I made the right decision to come here and learn.

That’s enough thinking for one day.  I’m getting a headache.

To clear the headache I decided that, as the tide was well out, I would try to walk round the headland to the north into the bay where the turtles were. When I had gone with Denis we had clambered up onto the top and cut across on dry land but I decided to see how I would go.  It was during this attempt that I had my second ‘Tom Hanks’ moment of the trip.  The sand soon changed to sea-pitted limestone and in flip-flops the going was hard.  It was then that I realised that no-one was anywhere around and a sprained ankle as the tide returned could be tricky for a castaway.  Unusually sensible for me but I retraced my steps.

As I returned to the sand I found that a local fishing Dhow had beached in my absence and the fisherman was more than willing to show me that part of his catch was a small shark.  I hope that is as big as they come and mother isn’t around somewhere looking for her offspring.  He said the shark would fetch him Tsh 500 when he sold it so I was more than willing to double his profit by giving him the same amount for a picture.

I walked back past a strange wood of trees that at high tide have their trunks and lower branches covered with water but are able to survive in such a salty environment.  I also saw scores of crabs.  Not edible ones but tiny ones the size of a house spider that sprint away rapidly as you approach.  They are perfectly camouflaged and really scoot across, faster than any spider, and must reach speeds of 3m/sec, which is very quick when you are moving sideways.  They disappear down vertical holes in the sand and as some of these in places were 3cm across, I was glad it was only the little ones that came out to play

The wood in the sea

Spider Crab

The day ended with goodbyes as Rose, Denis’ wife, is returning to Uganda on Monday morning after her first ever visit to Tanzania, and Vicky, who cooks most of my food, is going to visit her children in Moshi for fifteen days.  The old place will be empty.

I wish them safari njema. 

A trip to Pangan

Saturday September 29th

As I mentioned earlier, I had promised a photo print out to my rock smashing family, so a journey to Pangani was called for.  I didn't fancy cycling so decided to try my hand at hailing a ‘Dala dala’.  I had seen people do this and it consists of holding your arm out straight from the shoulder whilst your hand waves up and down like Larry Grayson having a fit.  I had steeled myself to accept that I would most likely be the 25th person on the minibus when it arrived so I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment when, after a wait of only one or two minutes, one of my friendly motorcyclists appeared out of a track on the opposite side of the road.  He papped his horn by way of offering his help and I willingly gave him the ‘thumbs up’.

 I should have mentioned that once again I woke up this morning to torrential rain and this makes the surface of the road quite tricky but I need not of worried as we covered the distance to town without ever going over 20 mph.  I’d like to think it was because of his illustrious passenger but I think it was more to do with his impeccable motorbike.  Don’t worry about the rain, by the way, it is now wall to wall sunshine again.

My chauffer took me right to the door of the Internet Café and I left him with a contribution towards his petrol (I hope this doesn’t invalidate his insurance).  A slight hiccup inside as the boy who was watching the shop had worse English than my Swahili and it was only when I worked out how to say ‘elfu moja mia tano” that we settled for Tsh1500 per print and not Tsh5000 which he was quoting.

The Internet Café

The Internet building (I refuse to keep using the word café) was quite close to the river so after getting my prints I had a walk down to the River Pangani and the car ferry.  I am told there is a good road from Dar as Salaam up the coast via Bagamoya now so the ferry gets some good use.

   

Further along the river is the Post Office and outside it these locked containers which give a new realism to the address where I am staying, which is P.O Box 84, Pangani; no postman for the dogs to worry here.

 

Refreshed with a Fanta at the Safari Lodge bar, I proceeded to find my way to the market where the minibuses congregate.  As a seasoned traveller I knew to ignore the frantic use of the horn by the driver of the bus at the front of the rank and continued my conversation with one of the locals until the wheels actually started moving before jumping on.

Back at the YM, I took Martha’s advice and have carefully cut the pictures out and sellotaped them to card from my cereal boxes to produce a more lasting gift and I look forward to Monday to present some of my photos to their subjects.

Finally the day ended, apart from dinner and a pint, with Denis turning up with a lady who said she wanted to learn English.  She is receptionist and secretary for a firm in Pangani and wants to be able to use English in her work.  On top of all other things I am now a teacher of ESL.  In fact her English was a lot better than she admitted too, but she was too shy to try it, and had little opportunity to speak to other English users outside work.  We tried a little role play of English speakers coming to her office and she seemed pleased with the results.  Denis helped translate when all else failed but it was an interesting hour.

Baadaye

A millionaire for a day

Friday September 28^th

I won’t bore you with the journey to and from Tanga you know all about that by now.  Suffice to say that the big bus was cancelled this morning at 7:00 so against my better judgement I boarded a ‘Dala dala’ (minibus) yet again. They don't get any better.

A Bajaj

A bajaj to Barclays used the last of my notes so it was with relief I went up to the counter, quoted my account number, showed a photostat of my passport and withdrew 1 000 000 shillingi.  I’ve decided that I can’t cope with a weekly journey to Tanga so I withdrew enough to pay my board for a few weeks in advance.  Coming out of the bank I once again found a friendly motorcyclist who ferried me to my various destinations and happily waited whilst I shopped etc.

You might have noticed from the pictures of my classes that the students are fairly evenly split between Christians and Muslems happily working together, although certainly, as you saw on the back of the bus coming out of Dar, religion is not something to hide away in the closet.

On the bus coming home the gentleman next to me pulled out his newspaper and started to avidly read the articles.  I glanced over and obviously didn’t understand the Swahili but had to smile to see Manchester City, John Terry, Wayne Rooney, Arsenal etc etc standing out in the middle of what, to me, was gobble-de-gook.  They certainly love their premiership football out here.

Arrived home for another swim and time to chill and oh, yes, I did manage to buy a chicken at the ‘Spar’ so tonight I enjoyed a much welcome break from my usual fare.

Baadaye

Breaking Rocks

Thursday September 27^th

Every day as I push the bike up the hill to Boza I pass families whose income is derived from providing aggregate for concrete.  They get a collection of rocks and then sit all day with a lump hammer breaking the rocks into small chunks that can be mixed with sand and cement to form concrete.  This week I practised one of my newest phrases, which I type from memory so excuse any spelling errors, - Tafadahli, nina weza kuwapiga picha. This means – “Can I take your picture please” and earlier this week I stopped to talk to one of the families and used my Swahili.  It must have worked as they then posed and in sign language we managed to agree that in payment I would give them a print out of the picture.

Below you can see the end product of their labour and the going rate is Tsh 1000 (40p) for a barrel full, and the barrels are big. 

As I cycled past this afternoon one of woman who was busy hammering called across – “Picha” and my Swahili didn’t let me down as I shouted back “Jumatatu (Monday) and she happily returned to the job in hand.

Incidentally, learning new words has never been easy to me so I use the picture method until they eventually drop into normal useage.  To remember tafadahli (thank you), I imagined a welsh painter; tuuta onana (see you later) was a NZ Featherstone Rovers rugby player eating a piece of fruit; and even simple words like elfu (1,000) was my mum who was known to some friends as ‘elfie’.  Daft I know but it works for me and it is a method that I have used before.  I won’t even begin to explain how I remember asabuhi (morning).

Tanga again tomorrow to try to draw some badly needed funds from the bank.  I finally managed to transfer money on line and my contact at the bank has emailed to say that it has arrived.  I’ve also got permission from Gladness, the YMCA boss lady, to buy some chicken, so my diet of beef, fish, beef, fish ……….could well be about to be broken.  Apparently chicken is not available in Pangani and she thought little of my suggestion that we got rid of one of the three cockerels that roam the grounds, and reduced the noise of the pre-dawn chorus.

Baadaye (later – and you don’t need to be clever to work out how I learnt that one)

Electricity. Wow!!

Wednesday September 27^th

Hurray, the electricity has been on all day.  Well, until 15:00 but school had finished then anyway and it came back on at dusk.  With a chance to use the laptops (the batteries are not brilliant on either machine) and Form III unsupervised without a teacher for nearly three hours.  I was able to pull pairs of students out, and now everyone in the Form has done the first introductory exercise I have written. 

The work on the computers obviously requires a lot more one to one contact and it soon became obvious that although English is supposed to be the language of lessons in Boza, there is a tremendous range of understanding among the students. Some like Peter, speak English almost as if it were their mother tongue, as usual, he informs me, learnt from the pop culture of DVDs and music.  Some though really struggle to understand me (pause for laughter from Chez) and in some cases I have had to resort to asking the other student in the pair, to translate my instructions into Swahili.  Presumably a lot of this goes on unofficially as I ramble on at the front of a maths lesson.

One troublesome object is the Shift key on the laptop. Trying to explain to someone with a limited English vocabulary that the key must be held down whilst pressing a letter with the other hand and not just touched and released, has proven almost beyond me on numerous occasions.  I have had to resort to actually holding their hands to produce a capital ‘M’ on more than one occasion. (The exercise starts ‘My name is…..’)

Anyway, the day went well.

Having risen before 4:00 to ensure I had enough electricity and Internet to upload the church magazine for printing (it took 35 minutes), I was, to say the least, shattered by the time I got home from school.  A phone call from Denis to join him on a 2km walk up the coastline to where some turtles were hatching was to be honest the last thing I wanted.

In the end though I was glad I went as we saw about twenty to thirty turtles racing or rather waddling down the sands and into the sea.  An old Tanzanian man removed the sand over the eggs so even the weakest didn’t need to dig themselves out, the way was clear to the sea.  I don’t know how Darwin would feel about that. 

Walked back and needless to say bed called early.

Finally, has anyone got an old nokia or equivalent that does nothing clever except text and phone.  If it has a sim card in as well could you give it my wife, because she has the only phone in the UK that will not receive my texts. I'm sure she thinks I am doing it deliberately, but not a single text I send to her gets past some unknown filter in her phone.  For the sake of marital harmony, help!!

Asante sana

The house that Jack built.

Tuesday 25^th September

Well actually not Jack but Mr Mmari. 

No electricity again today so I. T. was ‘out the window’ and once my maths lessons had finished I was at a bit of a loose end. (possibly not the best turn of phrase in foreign climes but ok so far, touch wood)  Mr Mmari, who has the computer room as his office and is therefore a person I talk to regularly, asked if I would like to see his house which was in Boza village across the road from the school.  As my only view of the village had been the shop and some of the buildings that are next to the road, I readily agreed.

Houses next to the main road

A quick walk across the road, past the shop and we were soon heading for the middle of the village.  Mr Mmari pointed to a corrugated roof in the distance and said, “That’s my house”.  As we got closer I realised that this was a bit different to what I could see as I biked up and down the hill.

Mr Mmari’s House

Certainly different and begged the question, are teachers paid so much in Tanzania.  The answer is no.  This is Mr Mmari’s long term project and dream.  He bought the land six years ago for very little and every month as he gets his wage he puts a little aside and buys some bricks or a couple of sheets of corrugated iron and gradually over the years the house has grown. I won't bore you with figures all the time, suffice to say that living expenses take most of his money.

In May of this year he made a front and back door and he, his wife and four children moved in.  His main training is in carpentry so he is able to put his hands to most things and all the furniture, beds etc in the house are also down to his craftsmanship.

The house has no electricity yet (the government say that this will be available in January ’13 and the house has electric fittings fitted ready for the day) and the only water is a stand tap outside, but as you walk round and listen to his ideas and dreams, it is a palace in the making.

This next picture shows the dining room as seen from the sitting room. (the lintel is temporary for those who have seen the bow)

And here is the en suite toilet (long drop obviously) which will be available from the master bedroom.

  

Gradually, as and when Mr Mmasi can buy a bag of cement, an increasing area of internal, and then eventually external, wall is being covered with rendering and soon the curtains hanging over bedroom openings will be replaced with permanent wooden doors.

As we went back outside past the usual goats, chickens and children, Mr Mmari pointed out where he wants to build a small shop in front of the house to hopefully prosper as the village grows.  This won’t be long as there seem to be many such houses being built, although, to be fair, nothing on the scale of the four bedroomed bungalow I had just visited.

I couldn’t hide my admiration for all he had achieved on a monthly wage that for some back home would just about cover a good night out at Xscape.  He replied, “I started with nothing.  I have a little, but my children will have something to be proud of.”  What can you say.

Baadaye

What to do when all else fails?

Monday 24^th September

The meal last night was everything I could have hoped for and some good conversation certainly beat my usual habit of talking to a ball I have found on the beach and christened Mitre.

Got up this morning and went into the bathroom (toilet really with a shower head sticking out of the wall) and there was no water. The header tank on stilts next to the building must be empty, so a shower consisted of ladling cold water out of a bucket using a Thermos flask top (just like camping in England really).  Thankfully I have a flask filled every evening for a shave and early coffee so that was ok.

Dressed and thinking in terms of clearing any back log of work, sat down, all ready; and the electricity cut off.

 Great.

The day got better eventually.

 

I arrived at school and was getting organised when one of the From III pupils arrived with a big pile of books.  The exercise books they use are hard backed and roughly the size of the old foolscap, before this new fangled A4, A5 etc.  They are reminiscent of the old cash register books in size (for those of you over 50 that can remember such things).  Anyway, these books had been collected and arrived with the expectation that I mark the work that had been set on Thursday.  No – ‘the dog ate it’ – or – ‘I left me book at home’.  All done and in the main a pleasure to mark.

Different Continent - Same Problem

Better things ahead as, after teaching another lesson with this group and setting more exercises, they must have had a private study period because forty minutes later a boy appeared and asked if he should collect their books because they had all finished the work.  As there was still no electricity so I.T. classes were out, I thought, “Why not”, and so at least I am well in front with my marking.

At break one of the boys asked if he could see me and said that he was worried he had missed some of the work in Form II and could I help him.  I found a text book and found the first section he was worried about. (Standard Notation for those with a memory of things mathematical.) We went through some examples including multiplying and dividing and he raced through them.  The intelligence of some of the students coupled with such a thirst for knowledge is astounding and certainly makes me feel that it is all worthwhile.

Arrived home and no change to the electricity and water situation so decided the most sensible way of cooling off and clearing the dust was the ocean, so quickly changed and went for a dip.  It ain’t all bad by any means.

The power came back on at 6:00 pm.

My first dip

Sunday September 21^st

There was a good Internet signal when I woke up so I didn’t waste it and downloaded all the work that was waiting for me. After spending much of the morning on the computer I finally took the plunge this afternoon and tried the water. 

The continental shelf is very gentle so I had to go some way out before I was able to swim.  Last year I watched some local fishermen trawling with a net so I knew it would take me a good distance before I was out of my depth. They walked out about 200m keeping a similar distance apart and when the water was about shoulder high they dropped the net and walked back to shore pulling it between them. The water was very warm but quite sandy and although I didn’t see any sharks I did have a life or death struggle with a length of seaweed that attacked my back. It was a short swim, not for any other reason than the fact that the Lonsdale torso doesn’t even see the sun in England, so, although I had sun lotion on, I felt twenty minutes was enough over here.

I am the only guest at the YMCA at the moment apart from a one day stop over last weekend but the place gets quite busy in the evening (six or seven max) as it serves beer, spirits and soft drinks.  It also has a TV with a DVD so last night’s offering was the newer version of King Kong.  They’ll have to watch without me tonight though as I have been invited out to dinner down the beach with Cliff’s friends. The food here is good but tends to be repetitive  (the local Jamie Oliver book must only have two pages) so it will be good to have something different, as I know from last year that Helema, their cook, is very good. 

As I type the power has just gone off so I will not use up the laptop battery and will sign off until tomorrow.

I finally paddle

Saturday September 22^nd

Surprisingly, it’s taken me ten days since I first arrived in Tanzania to finally dip my toes in the Indian Ocean. My weekdays are pretty full as I have said and from breakfast at 6:45, through school, to arriving home, changing and eating, there is not a lot of opportunity before the night falls at 18:15.  This and too regular trips to Tanga have kept me on dry land for far too long.

Yesterday morning I finally wandered the fifty metres to the cliff edge and the other fifty metres down the path to the beach.  It is the quickest way to get to where Denis lives and I wanted to say hello to a couple of Cliff’s friends who were there.  So a gentle stroll to the sea, a couple of snaps of Nkoma Bay which is where we are and four hundred metres later I was climbing the steps and path leading to my destination.  I thought I was fit but the lungs were going at the top; must be the sun.

Mkoma Bay looking north.

After a refreshing cup of proper coffee I retraced my steps and spent the rest of the morning drawing scale plans of by bed!  Martha, one of Cliff’s friends, and I had a detailed discussion about the mosquito and how the clever little b****rs are still getting to me.  We decided my mosquito net is not long enough or heavy enough, so I have taken all the measurements of the bed and net supports so that I can have one made in Pangani.  Perhaps then I’ll stop scratching.

Mkoma bay looking south

Most of the rest of day was spent fighting the Internet, updating the school website etc.

I am gradually learning a little Swahili and now know 68 words and phrases.  Mind you the numbers 1-39 are included in these but I am slowly being able to communicate with non-English speakers (as long as they don’t make the mistake of replying, because then I am lost).

It doesn’t help that the locals, being so sociable, seem to have lots of ways of greeting each other with the accompanying replies and, if next to each other, handshakes.

A simple meeting could go

Me: habari gani – Hello – literally What’s the news?

Reply : nzuri – good

            shikamoo – greetings (used because I am an old and respected babu - grandfather)

Me: marahaba – thank you for your greetings.

Reply : mambo – how are things

Me: mambo poa – things are cool

Pause for laughter all round and that’s half my vocabulary gone and the day has only just started.

Seriously, I love it.  More soon.  I think I might just go for a complete immersion in the blue wet stuff this afternoon.

badai – later (see you later)

Another trip to Tanga

Friday September 21^st

Another trip to Tanga today.  I was not timetabled for maths and the computer classes are ‘as and when’ I am available so I ‘skived’ school and arrived at Pangani square to catch the 7:30 ‘coach’ to Tanga.  I’m getting to know the road now, so took my Kindle and, with difficulty from the bouncing, read much of the way there.

I am really beginning to realise the meaning of ‘pole pole’ (slowly slowly). You have to change your speed of life or more exactly your speed of expectancy.  From my limited experience, and also from what Cliff (my eldest son) has been saying for years, nothing happens quickly in Africa.  This I found as I spent some hours opening an account at Barclays.

I quickly digress for those who are not totally acquainted with my family.  Last year Chez and I visited my son Cliff and Jane his wife in Dar as Salaam for three weeks.  During the time we travelled to various places around the country and one of these was Pangani where I visited the local school and was impressed with what they were doing with very limited resources. Thinking in terms of collecting books etc to send out, I asked the head what they were short of and he replied “Teachers”.  When we got home it soon became obvious that rather than becoming a couch potato in retirement, I could possibly be more useful spending some time in Tanzania.  To my surprise Chez said, “Go for it”, and so after much planning I am here. BUT. In the meantime my beloved son has moved to Myanmar (was Burma) and so my safety net has disappeared. Only kidding Cliff, see you in October.

To return to Tanga.  As I zigzagged around the town I used a combination of foot power, Bajaj (if I could find one, this is not Dar) and motorcycle.

The motorcycle is real currency in Tanzania.  Cars are incredibly expensive compared to the cost of living here and are way out of the league of the majority, so it is not unusual, as I ride to school, to be passed by a Chinese motor bike with husband steering and wife, and possibly wife’s sister, riding behind.  This also means that on some corners in Tanga you will find two or three young men sitting around talking next to their bikes and I soon found that a polite query for the directions to some distant place would often be met with an offer to take me for Tsh 1000.  I know I haven’t done a risk assessment and Health and Safety would ‘do a fit’ but it’s hot, I’m hot, and it beats walking. Suffice it to say that I got my jobs done, caught the coach and got back to the YM to find they had been without electricity all afternoon.  Thankfully it returned before dark

I seem to have rambled on and on this morning so will finish with a photo.  I have already commented at length about the minibuses plying their trade from Tanga to Pangani.  What I didn’t say is that these double up as the delivery vans.  God bless their springs.

Badai.

Flying solo

Thursday September 20^th

I took my passport to school this morning and arrived early at 7:30 because the head had been told to expect a visit from immigration. I still had time to stop for my water having decided it was more sensible to buy a heavy bottle at the top of the hill than to carry it with me.

My Corner Shop

I am on a three month visitor’s visa (the only type I can get) and this precludes employment so we have to convince the powers that be that slogging away with no remuneration is not employment.  In the end it was all in vain because they never turned up.  T.I.A.

Just before I went to Form I at 8:00, Mr Masui, the head and teacher of Form III maths, informed me that he had to go into Pangani this morning so would I kindly take his class by myself and do Histograms.  Wow. Thanks.  I spent the time between Form I and Form III at 11.10 preparing what I would put on the board for them to copy, as I didn’t want to change their style of teaching on my first session.  I did though manage to slip in a starter.

Mr Masui

I have included a picture of my two classes and although quite a few were away in each class you might be surprised by the size.  Unlike the school in Pangani, Boza is a school where the parents pay about TSH5,000 (£2) a week towards their children’s education.  It is also partly residential TSH10,000(£4) a week and unlike the public school with classes of 50 ,60 and above, the biggest class is 42 in Form IV and my classes are smaller than that.

Class I

Class III

I showed you a picture of the bell the other day.  Dixon the bell monitor and I are good friends.  On Tuesday I pointed out that he had rung the bell at 7:53 instead of 8:00 and showed him the time on my watch and on the computer.  He changed his watch and now every time he rings the bell I get a beaming smile and a knowing look.

Dixon

The children are delightful and obviously enjoy laughing at my feeble attempts at Swahili whilst encouraging me with new words to use (all clean, I run them past the teacher first). 

Tomorrow I have a day off school as I have to go back to Tanga to organise a transfer of money and a couple of other things so am planning to catch the first proper bus at 7:00 and hopefully avoid the minibuses altogether. Only been here a week and it feels like a month, so much has happened.  I’ll fill in the gaps later.

Badai.  

And now the teachers

Wednesday September 19^th

Having started Form III. in pairs, on an introduction to computers and MSWord I offered to the Deputy Head, Mr Bakari, that I would be willing to do the same for any staff that were interested, so today I had Mr Daffa and Mr Zacharia for over an hour.  Mr Daffa, who teaches Maths and Chemistry had never been on a computer so we started with Word but Mr Zacharia, who teaches Geography and Biology, was interested in Excel so I delighted in showing him the beginnings of what my favourite program can do.

Apart from a double lesson of maths with Form I at 8:00, the rest of the day was spent fighting the internet to try to download virus protection onto the school computer and update it with the latest file.  Considering the school sits directly under three of the biggest radio masts for miles, the reception is still poor and I long for my Fibre Optic link at home.

I left my mains lead at school so couldn’t really use my laptop in the evening so I am afraid this is a day late.  Tomorrow’s will be fuller.

Usiku Mwema

This was what I came for

Tuesday September 18^th

An excellent day. Left the YM at 7:15 so as to avoid a Muzungu disruption of the assembly again and met up with the same young man as yesterday who accompanied me up the hill.  There is a hut/shop opposite the school entrance and I treated the pair of us to a long cold one (bottles of water) before I reported for duty.

Form I and then Form III for maths filled the first three hours. Lessons took the same form as yesterday with a worked example of the topic under consideration being copied from the board prior to a question being done by the students and the setting of homework. 

 Mr Mmary

A very traditional class structure and certainly the work to do at home was extensive. The bell for a thirty minute break rang at the end of Form III’s lesson but the teacher, Mr Masui, the head teacher, ploughed on for another fifteen minutes before releasing the class.  The expectations are set for when I take over.

The Bell

After break I was given the computer room with its one laptop, set mine up as well and worked with pairs of Class III who were released from Physics. Of the students only one had touched a keyboard before but I had written a simple exercise for MS Word and by the end of fifteen minutes they were  opening Word, inputting text, correcting mistakes in their work, saving it and reopening it. You have to completely re-think your methods when the question is asked – “How do I get a capital M”.  The reaction was very positive and they were like sponges as they took up this new knowledge.

It could be argued that for some it might be a case of learning skills that circumstances mean are never really developed, but for the ones who go onto higher education it will be a good start.  Here is a picture of Suphian on the left and Happyness on the right trying to make sense of the Qwerty keyboard.

I didn’t mention that at five this morning the rain was torrential on my corrugated iron roof and whilst at school there was another heavy storm so my laptop was wrapped in a bin-liner in my rucksack as I weaved my, now experienced, way home, but thankfully it was a dry journey and as I sit and write this the view of the ocean is under a completely clear blue sky.

Badai.

First day at school

Monday September 17^th

I’m not ashamed to say that yesterday was spent chilling.  I got settled with the kindle and only moved at dinner time and am I glad I did because today was shattering.

This morning I was showered, dressed, fed, watered and had spent two hours on the computer by 7:30 as I swung my leg across a ladies bike for the first time in many years.  Yes I could have swung my leg through but people were watching and I didn’t want to spoil the impression I had given of a rugged macho figure. The bike was courtesy of the YMCA for their best client and you’ll see what I mean about macho!!

 I set off on the bike the 3km to the school with a little wobble that gradually steadied as I wended through the wood that cut the corner to the main road.  Fine when I met the main road; fine as I turned off the Pangani road towards the school; not fine when I saw the hill in front of me and realised that the school was at the very top by the radio masts.  It didn't seem as steep perched on the back of Denis' motorbike!

This was going to be a walking long slog.  Thankfully I was soon joined by a young man who couldn’t have been out of school long himself and he kept me company as I toiled upward.  I can’t speak for the city dwellers but certainly everybody in Pangani I’ve met has been so friendly since I got here and can’t do enough for me.

I mounted the bike again as I turned off the road into the school grounds, hoping to convince people I had ridden all the way, and then noticed assembly had started, as the whole school was gathered round the flag pole listening to one of the teachers.  I thought that if I got off my bike I could sneak past without anyone noticing me.  I failed miserably, must have been the bright shirt. I’ll know in future that lessons start at 08:00 but school starts ten minutes earlier.

The deputy head showed me to a desk in the staffroom and I started to look at the timetable I had been given.

The Staffroom

I had only been timetabled for two of the nine daily lessons today but Mr Bakali soon explained that they would like me to teach some computing to small groups as in May they had taken possession of a laptop, so  at least I could fill my day working out a scheme of work.  In the meantime I took some photos around the school.

Classrooms for Form I and Form II

Classrooms for Form III and Form IV

Library

I spent a happy 80 minutes with Class III doing Tally charts and then started on some I.T. exercises.  I managed to complete a couple of these but finding that the laptop did not come with a printer I left early to go into town to the internet café to print my work.

Sounds easy.

My first discovery was that the hill had to be walked down as well, at least the top part, as even with full pressure on both brake levers the bike insisted on obeying the law of gravity.  If I could not hold it at walking pace there was no way I could stop it as it picked up speed so, much to the delight of a few onlookers, I walked until the worst of the slope had gone

My second discovery was that whoever measured the distance as 4km to town must have had a good night the day before.  I exaggerate, but it felt like ten to somebody who had not been on a bike for over ten years.  Eventually I found the internet printed my sheets (TzS4000 for four printouts! That’s two pints!) and started the long wind home.  Another cold shower, a walk round to Denis’ to report that I have survived and it certainly looks like an early night is going to be the rule of the day.

Denis

T.I.A.

Sunday September 16^th

I was about to say I had solved my Internet problems but it has stopped working again.  I ‘solved it’ by going on at 5:00 this morning (no real hardship as I am now living by the sun – Dawn 06:15 Dusk 18:15) and doing a couple of hours work before breakfast to try to catch up with the backlog.

Yesterday when I was in Tanga I went into a friendly small supermarket for basic rations.  As a man of advanced years (sitini saba tomorrow), I did not think a regular breakfast of boiled eggs was sensible (possibly a poor choice of adjective), so I purchased a large box of Weetabix to last until my next expedition.  I also bought some long life milk and a few other things not available in Pangani.  You can imagine my feelings at 7:00 this morning when I sat down for breakfast, opened the first packet of Weetabix and saw hundreds of very tiny ants inside the waxed sleeve. Gutted.  Thankfully I had bought a packet of Bran/Granola as a back-up and that was fine and is now residing inside three bin liners one on top of the other on my bedroom table.

As Cliff so often says T.I.A. (This is Africa)

Back to adventure with a bang.

Saturday September 15th

As I said yesterday I needed to retrace my steps to Tanga today to change dollars into Tanzanian Shillings so 7:30 this morning Denis gave me a lift on his motorbike the 4km to Pangani ‘bus station’.  A minibus was waiting so I quickly jumped on board to ensure a seat and ten minutes later the driver arrived, started the engine and started furiously ‘papping’ the horn.  This went on for five minutes and was obviously the warning for departure and he wasn’t going to stop it until the bus was full.

As before there were cushions behind the driver so that further passengers could sit on the floor facing the back (no box this time),

I soon longed for that wooden box as he then opened the door again for three standing passengers, we are up to twenty in a thirteen seater; we’ll cope.  Oh no, five minutes out and another two joined us. I won’t bore you with the rest, suffice to say that we entered the limits of Tanga 80 minutes later with 25 plus the driver on board. I know London commuters complain about the rush hour tube but this was crammed.

I’m seriously considering blowing a week’s allowance on a taxi back but no, control yourself Lonsdale, the title says adventure.

I arrived in Tanga bus station, which is as mad as Ubungu, just smaller with minibuses and using my limited language – “Barclays iki wapi” - found the bank and by similar means a supermarket and the internet café.  I think one of the Carleton High miscreants has beaten me too it though as the keys seem to have been rearranged so thankfully I know the keyboard well.

A bit more walking, weighed down with shopping now and I opted for the mini-adventure and found a Bajaj.  (If you don’t know these are the Tanzanian equivalent of the TukTuk.)  Having beaten the driver down from TzS2000 (80p) to 1500 (60p) to take me back to the bus station, I then used his services to find a shop selling Thermos Flasks, a shop where I bought a chicken tapas, and then find the bus for me (a proper coach this time) and as he waited for me every time decided this was TzS5000 well spent and he went off well pleased.  The journey home (!) was much better. 

Perhaps have to rethink the adventure part

Friday September 14^th

After a rice and chicken dinner (get used to it Stuart), not surprisingly I retired early last night.  The room is basic but for £8 a night half board what do you want –

 It wasn’t my plan to lie in this morning, nor was it my plan to be up at 5.30 but they have chickens at the YMCA and, yes, where you have chickens you find a cockerel, and this one doesn’t know the difference between false dawn and dawn so started crowing just before 4.00.  This did mean though that I was up showered (cold – what else!) and outside to appreciate my Camp Granada moment (you know – Just a minute it’s stopped raining…  -  “Do try to keep up”) as I took in the view over the Indian Ocean from my door.

At 6:15 this picture doesn’t do the view justice so I walked just past the building in front a bit later and took these –

I bet you’re really feeling sorry for me about now.  Incidentally let me introduce Ava who is looking after me.

 

But! I didn’t come all this way to dally in Shangri La, so after breakfast I climbed on the back of Denis’ motorbike and went to the school.  I met the deputy head and the headteacher had a tour of the school and discussed what I could do to help, and so the outcome is that next Monday morning bright and early (well school starts at 8.00) I’ve got double maths for 80 minutes with class III.  I’ll tell you what that means as far as age etc in the next instalment.  We then did some shopping and I bought a local Sim Card.  I now have to try to get my own internet working, find a bike (push) from somewhere and a few other tasks to keep me busy over the weekend.  I’m going back to Tanga tomorrow (I’ll try for a seat this time) to investigate a couple of things, so will find an Internet Café to post this.

Now it really starts

Thursday 13^th September

I hope you are comfortable because this is a long one, but not as long as the day I’ve just had.

I flew into Dar as Salaam airport last night at 9.30 and having been transported to a hotel for the night by Karim (Cliff’s taxi driver mate), I was up this morning at 3:30 to get organised for my bus journey to Pangani.  Breakfast of fried white of egg (?), hotdog sausage and dry bread and I was ready to face the world as Karim picked me up at 4.45 for the run to the bus station.

I imagine Victoria in London is daunting for a non-english speaker but believe me it has nothing on Ubungu Bus Station for giving you a quick blast of a different culture.  Imagine the coach park at Wembley (if you’ve been)but many times bigger, with row upon row of coaches, nose to tail and barely a shoulder’s width apart.  Each one with a ‘salesman’ convincing any of the thousands of people passing by that his is the best coach in the world.  All this and it is still one hour before dawn.    I had to wait until dawn, when some of the buses had already left, to take the pictures.  I hadn’t seen another Muzungu (white man) and didn’t think it was polite to start using a flash camera to draw further attention to myself.

Thankfully I still had my mentor, Karim, with me and we finally settled on a bus to Tanga for the sum of TzS 12,000 (about £5).  A bottle of water for the journey and I was settled.  Settled that is, until my neighbours arrived.  The buses have five seats across their width instead of four (a two and a three, obviously to increase income by 25%), and I was next to the window in a three. I was somewhat relieved then, when this rather portly lady appeared at the end of the row, to see hiding behind her skirts a young boy of about seven years old looking terrified at the thought of spending six hours crammed between his mother and this strange man.

As we left the bust station (which took all of 30 minutes queuing) life was starting and at 7:00 amidst the dust and noise, the immaculately turned out school children were already about  their walk to school.

I never stop wondering that in a country of such low incomes and unemployment the school children are always a sight to behold in their freshly pressed shirts and shorts/skirts.  Before I had left Dar I had seen uniforms of every colour of the rainbow and they all looked splendid. 

All the buses were covered with legends and mottos such as this reminder to the vehicle behind.

We finally left the suburbs of Dar behind us started on the journey north.  Any thoughts I had of flying along in air conditioned splendour on an inter-city trip were soon dispelled as we stopped at the first village to pick up more passengers.  One of about twelve or more stops along the way, each one accompanied by the chance to buy bread, crisps, nuts, water, pop, boiled eggs, oranges etc.  Surprisingly everything but toilets, as during the whole journey I never saw anyone get off and then get back on.

By the time we had been on the road for a couple of hours the boy next to me had relaxed enough for me to try out a little of my Swahili and writing the numbers 1 to 10 across the top of a sheet of paper we tested each other as I said moja, mbili, tatu etc and he contributed one, two three.  Needless to say he beat me hands down. Once a teacher always...

…

Eventually over eight hours after I had boarded the bus I alighted at Tanga bus station and without the help of Karim proceeded to walk around plaintively calling out “Basi Pangani”.  I had no need to worry though as a ‘very helpful’ young man grabbed my cases and pulled me towards an old minibus.  I was too tired to argue or haggle but having seen my luggage on top and the fare paid, I still had energy to laugh when I realised that in fact all the seats were full and my seat was on a wooden box in the gangway.

Thankfully this was only for the first twenty minutes until one of the other passengers got off and then I at least had a seat for the last ninety minutes of my journey along a very bumpy road.

You can imagine I was pleased to see the sign Mkoma Bay and know I had reached my destination, although it still needed a little of my Swahili as the driver had forgotten my request and a shout of “Shoosha” was needed before he stopped.

A phone call to Denis, my friend and contact in Pangani, and he arrived to help me with my cases for the last 300m away from the road to Pangani YMCA.  Life certainly started looking up, but that is another tale……..