Sunday March 27th 2011It was a cool, wet morning, and quite thundery at first. We started the day with a breakfast of cold leftover rice and black tea, also some bread. After the rain had eased off a bit, around 10 am, it was time to go to church. The paths were quite slippery, but we managed to climb the hill without falling over.
It was our first time in the new brick church that we'd last seen in the early stages of construction. On our first visit to Bumbire Island in December 2006, we helped carry large rocks to help build the foundations. These were later concreted by a fundi, but there were some problems. The first fundi to do the concreting asked to have all the money paid in advance - saying that he had some urgent family needs. He then absconded, leaving the foundations only half-completed. The second fundi didn't mix the cement and sand together in the right proportions, so, when we arrived on our second visit in August 2007, parts of the concrete could be brushed off the foundations as it had been made with too much sand. We spent some time removing the poor quality concrete so that it could be replaced it with a better mix. All this cost the small church far too much money.
Between those two visits, the church had been busy making bricks. Some had been stacked all around the site, others needed stacking, and there were some ready to be burnt in a kiln. We took part in the work of stacking bricks and assisting with fetching water to make more. The biggest problem was convincing pastor that we really wanted to help - otherwise we would have been sitting around, feeling rather bored and useless!
Brick-making involves one man puddling away in the bottom of a deep hole in the mud whilst others, including women and children, go to the water source to fetch water in 10 or 20l containers. It was some way off, entailing a walk down the path along the top of the hill, down the steepish hillside through a couple of shambas, and finally down a shortish path to a reservoir that had been built by missionaries. It is filled by a clean spring which then flows out of the concrete-lined pool to form a stream that continues down a narrow ravine, eventually passing below the Mugaruras' shamba.
I tried carrying a 10l container on my head, placing it on a round, twisted grass cap. Unfortunately, I didn't quite fill it right to the brim, trying to avoid getting wet. I thought the cap might come off if there was too much water-pressure on it! The containers were plugged either with a piece of a plant or by fastening thin plastic over the opening with a rubber band. The water moved too much when I was climbing the hill, causing quite a headache and a lot of pressure on my skull. Many of the women carry 20l containers!!! I decided it was much easier just carrying the containers by hand, and ended up taking 2 x 10l the next trip. They thought I was very strong, but I think they are too!
The water is poured into the hole and the soil is trampled in and dug out of the sides as well. Others assist by bringing suitable soil from further away. When the mud reaches the desired consistency, it is scooped up out of the hole and given to men holding wooden forms. The mud is pressed into them and the excess smoothed off the outside. The resulting brick is pushed out of the mould onto the ground and placed on one side to dry.
The bricks have to be turned from time to time until they are dry enough to stack. The stacks are about 1/2 metre high; the bricks are placed loosely, first lengthwise in two rows, then the next layer crosswise. We helped do this one day. Each pile ends up being covered with an umbrella of dried grass so that rainwater is shed. If this isn't done, the unburnt bricks start to crumble and dissolve!
After a while, the bricks are restacked, as different layers dry at different rates. Eventually they are built into a kiln, and a fire lit inside to burn the bricks. The process can take quite a long time.
On this, our third visit, the church had been in use for some time, and already the site of the former church had become overgrown with young trees and vegetation. It was hard to discover where it had been. We were really a bit sad that they had decided to build a brick building; we had really enjoyed the atmosphere of the traditionally built thatched one, and thought that the traditional method is so practical and cheap to put up, using local renewable resources. The biggest problem would have been maintaining the thatch so that people didn't get wet in the rains, and replacing the walls if/when they get destroyed by ants or termites.
The new church had been roofed with iron sheets - a big expense - but the Agape church provides its churches with these if the congregations do the rest of the work in building the main structure. Swallows had built a few nests under the roof, so were flying in and out as we held the service, which was quite fun really!
There was only a very small congregation at first: us, the four Mugararas, and the faithful elder, Daniel. However, after an hour or so, several other people turned up, including lots of children, so the total congregation was 18. I was asked to translate Bruce's sermon and managed pretty well, although I got a bit stuck on a few phrases so was glad that Pastor was able to help me out.
Lunch was rice and chicken (the same as we'd had the previous night) - but there was nothing offered to drink. Fortunately we still had some water in our room that we'd bought in Bukoba. After lunch, we went down the steep path to the stream, crossed it (you have to take a big step or small jump across from one rock to another then clamber over slippery tree roots to meet the path on the other side), and then climbed up the path to Fideli’s house, one of the next-door neighbours.
Pictured are Fideli and his wife, Pastor Kaserwa (from the mainland) and Bruce, photo taken December 2006. We were amazed to find out that Fideli now has five children: three boys and two girls. He only had the three boys when we last saw them in 2007: Mika, Meshaki (called Meshaki 1 to distinguish him from the Mugaruras' Meshaki), and Melkizideki, who was nearly a year old when we left and was not yet walking, much to everyone's concern. They told us that most babies start walking at around 8-9 months old! Melkizideki had taken everyone by surprise by weaning himself at 9 months of age; usually the babies are fed for 2-3 years or at least till the next one is nearly born. He obviously hadn't been getting the right kind of diet as he was quite small and seemed rather lethargic.
It's very hard for the locals to provide the right mix of protein, fat, carbohydrate and vitamins for newly-weaned babies and toddlers. Meals are based mainly around starchy staples. Meat, poultry and fish are very expensive so aren't eaten very much or in small quantities, and fresh fruit and veges don't feature very strongly in the diet. If you have your own shamba you try to grow as much of your own food as you can, but many things are seasonal and can only be eaten out-of-season if you can get to a market that brings in foods from other parts of Tanzania where the seasons are different. The mchuzi – a soup-like liquid served in a bowl, sometimes one for each person - usually contains onions and tomatoes, but these might be the only veges eaten in a day if you don’t count the starchy roots such as cassava, taro or sweet potato. If meat, poultry or fish is cooked, the cooking liquid becomes the mchuzi.
All of Fideli’s children are very friendly, well-mannered, and quite delightful, and were very happy to see us. I amazed them (and myself!) by correctly identifying Meshaki. Fideli's mother was very sick, and was in the vestibule lying on a mat on the grass-covered dirt floor. She was very weak, and although she did manage to sit up, could hardly walk. Mama Mugarura helped her outside at one point - presumably to visit the choo, and that seemed to completely exhaust her. We were told that she'd been sick for about 6 weeks, had a high fever, wasn't drinking properly, and couldn't keep any food down. They had tried all kinds of treatment without success, including antibiotics, so were discussing whether to take her to the clinic run by African Inland Mission the next day.
Most of the local huts and houses have a kind of vestibule or room just inside the front door where visitors sit, usually on mats. Fideli's house is quite large, so this room could seat quite a good number of people. There was a lovely clucky hen in one corner sitting on some eggs - this is quite common! In one house, we were very amused to see a hen sitting on one of the chairs! When you visit, you are usually offered some kind of food or drink - we were offered some fresh pineapple - yum!
Once we'd finished our visit, mama went home, but pastor, Bruce and I went down another path and crossed the stream further down. After a good walk around the side of the hill, through a section of bush, then down a rockier path right to the lakeshore, we arrived at Kiiza's house. His brother was the one who had provided us with sodas in Kemondo. Kiiza offered us cold rice and spiced tea - yummy! We had a very nice conversation, and he expressed a desire that we'd stay in Tanzania and build a house on the island! He doesn't have a very good source of income, and has a wife and two children to feed. Sometimes he can earn a little cash by carrying burdens for people at the landing stages, but mostly they survive on what is grown on his shamba. He is living in a very interesting home, it has belonged to the family for some time, I think, and may have been built by Germans. The doors are solid timber, quite ornately carved wood, and the house looks solidly built of well-laid bricks and is quite large - but the vestibule had obviously been added on at a later date, and the concrete floor was parting company with the rest of the building!
It was quite hot on the way back to the Mugaruras’, and some time after we arrived back, the children returned with their two goats. The goats are tethered for many hours during the day as well as all night, but once a day they are taken down to the stream for water and up the hill for grazing (usually the children’s job). Meshaki lost his goat this time, he finds them rather hard to hold - but I managed to catch it for him.
We had quite a late dinner with Daniel - rice, chicken and tea again. Unfortunately I felt a little nauseous after drinking some tea, so decided to be very careful how much I ate. We ended up going to bed close to 10 pm.
The evenings close in quite early; darkness falls quite abruptly around 7 pm, and with no electricity, it's impossible to read - although pastor likes to try, using a torch. He now has a rather interesting battery-powered lamp that resembles a kerosene one in shape and size. Unfortunately the light it gave barely enabled you to see what you were eating, so if Pastor wanted to read, he had to use a torch as well!
I was glad to have a much better sleep; there was no wildlife for quite some time, although I woke up briefly in the early morning to hear rats running around in the house.
Mid-morning we set off to walk to the clinic. We went around the coastal route as pastor thought the hillier route would be too slippery after the rain. On the way, he popped in to briefly visit one or two people, and we were amazed to come across some really tall banana palms, much bigger than usual. We had a soda as Kiiza's, very welcome in the heat. The picture top right is of flowering coffee, it has a lovely scent. The other photo is of young coffee beans. 
This photo shows pastor's boat. He's started up a small business buying up goods and selling them on the other islands. He also sells his own surplus produce. The other boat with two ladies in it was going to be used as an ambulance for Fideli's mother. A group of men had left home once the rain stopped, carrying her somehow. That would be a long and slow journey on foot, much easier once she was in the boat. Her condition had deteriorated further, and really, we though there was little chance of her surviving. Pastor was a little concerned that we hadn't met up with the 'stretcher' party on the way, and kept asking people whether they’d seen them or heard of their passing.
At one stage along the path, we heard the sound of deep-voiced singing, and came upon a group of fishermen hauling in a net. Bruce couldn't resist joining in, but I'm not sure he got the rhythm right! A little further on, we came across another group of fishermen, silent this time, hauling in the other end of the net. Bruce said it was very heavy and really hard work. They didn’t think they’d managed to catch many fish.
