Traffic jams

Friday March 25th 2011
We ate the provided breakfast, which is quite nice – mango juice, fresh tropical fruits, then toast and jam. There is also tea and coffee. We then took our bags across the road and down the way to the minibus taxi park, trying to dissuade all the hopeful taxi drivers (of both cars and bodaboda (motorcycles) from giving us a lift. It was quite cool and cloudy so it was easy to carry our packs - and we were travelling light – we only had one large pack and two small ones. It was easy to find a minibus going to Kampala, so we climbed aboard and didn't have to wait long before it was full enough to set off.
The first part of the ride was fine, travelling through the lush countryside as far as Kampala, but once in the city, the traffic became totally chaotic. It wasn't nearly as bad four years earlier when we’d travelled through the city on a big bus! Instead of the usual 40-minute trip, it took an hour and a half!
This time there were solid lines of gridlocked minibus taxis - some were stationary waiting for passengers and others were trying to get somewhere! In places they were lined up 3 deep.
Once we had disembarked at the Old Taxi Park, we tried to remember where the Gateway buses leave from, but unfortunately all we could remember was that you have to go uphill. We chose a likely-looking street and tried asking some passers-by, but they couldn't help us. One group of three young men wanted to chat with us, but after a while, Bruce decided that one man's attentions to me were a bit over-the-top! He had first called me "sweetheart", then wouldn't let go of my hand - so Bruce said, "Leave my wife alone," - which caused a number of questions! Qualcel bus 60,000 sh!!! + 10,000 Mutukula to Bukoba on Gateway. Stuck ¾ hour petrol station, passed bus depot 1 hour after setting off, ½ hour to leave city – at noon!
Eventually we found someone who reckoned he knew where the Bukoba buses leave from, but we were rather perturbed when he set off downhill. We followed a little reluctantly and ended up at a different bus depot where there was a bus due to depart to Bukoba about half an hour earlier than the Gateway bus would leave. I was rather surprised at the price charged for the tickets – the ticket-seller told us the fare would be 30,000 shillings – each! However, I assumed that the price was higher due to it being a different company and the steep rise in fuel costs. As it was getting rather late, and we weren't sure if we could find the Gateway depot in time, we decided to take the ride.
We were glad to be able to buy some water very cheaply from a lady who came onto the bus to sell her wares, and then it was time to set off. First the driver went to a petrol station and put just a few litres into the tank before setting off - only to find that he couldn't exit the petrol station because the traffic was so busy on the street that it was really hard to exit onto it. We were stuck behind several other vehicles and had to wait our turn. After a while, the driver got impatient and followed someone’s very silly advice to try another exit. So, after reversing from where we were, and manoeuvring to another exit, we found that it was totally jammed by 2 or 3 rows of stationary daladalas (minibus taxis), some waiting for fares! No-one would let us out, and eventually our driver caused some extra chaos by reversing back towards the pumps again, then returning to our first exit – as the vehicles that had been in front of us before had all managed to leave, and in fact, there were fresh vehicles queuing up there, waiting for the rare gaps in the traffic. By the time we were able to leave the petrol station, we’d spent 45 minutes there, and slowly completing a circuit of a block, we arrived outside the bus station again, a whole hour after we’d left! I was hoping that we wouldn’t re-enter it again to pick up more passengers! Fortunately we already had our quote and it was time to get going! Another half-hour later, we exited Kampala. It was great to be out in the countryside, the only disruptions to the traffic being the frequent judder bars at the entry and exit points of villages and towns, and the odd police check.
We made quite good time and reached Mutukula around 4pm. What a surprise it was when everyone started to disembark before the border post and started to climb on board a Gateway bus!!!!! The new conductor asked for another 10,000 Ush and I explained that I thought I'd already bought a ticket for the complete journey - oh no, that was just for the Qualcel bus! At least 10,000/= wasn't too much to part with, and it was a little amusing really!
We didn’t have to spend too long at the border, and were soon in Bukoba, very happy to be greeted by our friend Gayle Smith, together with an ex-student of ours, Hassan. She’s sponsoring him through school as his Muslim family disowned him when he became a Christian. Unfortunately he got a much lower grade than expected in the National Form Four exams, but was still able to get a scholarship for a school in the South East of Tanzania. We’d first met Gayle just a few months before we left Bukoba in 2007, when she came to start teaching at the school where we were working. She is now working at a different school.
We had time to buy an SIM card for our phone and a voucher before squeezing into a taxi with several other people. Gayle says it’s the usual way of getting to Kemondo now if you’re too late for the daladalas. But it isn’t very comfortable with 6-9 people in a car built for 5!
We were thrilled to be hailed by someone in the street near the taxi stand – our friend Aristides, one of the stone-cutters Bruce worked with at Harvest. He’d had an accident since we last saw him and had had his leg amputated below the knee late 2010 as an earlier operation had never healed properly and had left an infected wound. He’d managed to get an artificial leg and proudly showed it to us. More about that later!
Our taxi driver did a surprise detour on the way to Kemondo – to avoid a police check. He said the policemen is like Colonel Gaddafi!
Once at Gayle’s feeling rather weary after all our days of travel, we waited for tea. She makes a really yummy avocado dip. She’s sharing a house with a couple of other teachers at the mission school. We’d visited it briefly 4 years earlier.

Last day in Tanzania

Saturday 25th July Another nearly sleepless night – the nearby pub again! We got up shortly after six. Unfortunately I knocked my glasses onto the floor when getting my towel off the towel rail where I'd hung them up, it being the only dry spot in the bathroom. It chipped a piece off the top of each lens, but they were still usable.
We were disappointed by the complimentary breakfast: a toasted sandwich and a cup of coffee or tea – she brought us hot water for a second cup, then took the sachets away! I think you weren't really supposed to have two cups!
We repacked our bags leaving out the guys’ gear as well as the peanuts, rice & dried native veges that had been given, then the Michaels turned up at 8.30.
Little Michael had woken big Michael up at 6, wanting to visit mama (me), but was told I might be still asleep!
As they hadn't had breakfast and we were still hungry and thirsty, we decided to breakfast somewhere else, it was far too expensive at the guest house. One of the neighbouring houses was serving breakfast in a little opened-up room and also outside, so we sat on stools and had refreshments: 4 teas, 4 chapattis, 3 maandazi for 1,250 Tsh! Compare this to the price of having one cup of tea at the guest house = 1,000 Tsh!
After going back to our room, we took our bags to the office and started to walk to Michael’s with his bags. He was very sad we weren’t going to take the peanuts, and I felt bad knowing how much hard work had been done, but we had tried to explain a couple of days earlier that such gifts are not advisable due to NZ regulations. Bruce said Michael could start up a small business selling them to other students, he thought it’d be fun but better if he could cook them first, but so far he hasn't bought any cooking or eating things. He’s still eating with his former landlord.
It was an interesting walk through streets lined with small dukas outside and between the houses. We passed through a narrow alleyway (not for fat people!), walked down a grassy hill, and crossed the deep, narrow, smelly drain at the bottom. It's nearly choked with rubbish. Michael's little room is on a lower level past some other houses, you have to climb over a wall that has stones set in it, and then go down past a row of little rooms to reach his at the end, near the thatched bafu & choo. It's very clean & tidy but not very big. He hopes to squeeze in a couple of chairs, and buy a cooker & cooking/eating utensils soon. He paid 140,000 for the year's rent, and an extra 10,000 Tsh get it re-plastered/whitewashed inside. He missed out on a much cheaper (only 40,000 a year ($50)) and nicer room in an apartment block nearer his school, originally built for government workers. His bed cost 60,000 Tsh then he had to buy a mattress, a mosquito net & water containers as well.
We went for a good walk back to the main road to go to the university internet building – what a fast connection - well, once I got a different computer, the first had a problem!
Then we went to a large complex that housed banks, fancy shops and a Forex, however, no-one was willing to change our traveller’s cheques. AT least there was an ATM so we used the Visa card instead, and also changed our large USD notes at the Forex into smaller ones to use at the airport - we'd been told there would be departure tax, but there wasn’t!
On the way back to the guest house, we stopped to buy ice blocks from a roadside vendor – most refreshing, as Dar was very hot & windy. We went to a cheap restaurant for lunch - HUGE platefuls of food, including very nice chips + a yummy salad of tomatoes, onion & cucumber.
As it was now after 1 p.m., we went to pick up our bags and head for the airport. We had a ½ hour walk to the main daladala stand, otherwise we'd have had to have taken two, and it gave another opportunity to chat. You had to watch out for cars using the pavement as a road to get past all the traffic jams, plenty of those! In the daladala, at one point it took twenty minutes to advance just two hundred metres!
We got to the airport bang on time, but were disappointed to find that, like Nairobi, passengers are screened on entry so other people are excluded. My hopes of a proper farewell were dashed, we had to say goodbye very quickly before disappearing out of sight. If we’d got there a little earlier or known the layout, we could have stopped in the gardens in front of the airport, taken a group photo, prayed for each other, & had a proper hug. I had also wanted an opportunity to say some encouraging words before leaving Michael again.
We gave him most of the money we’d got out of the ATM (apart from the cost of our accommodation & lunch), hoping no-one bad saw & would mug him on his way home, before saying a quick goodbye. I managed to slip in a quick hug, but Bruce had already gone on ahead!
It's a strange airport, there are only a few shops, a cafe and a restaurant in the lounge. There also were only two or three boarding lounges.
The boarding procedure took us by surprised, we heard our flight being called so went into the lounge and wondered why there was a group of people crowding round a desk near the entrance but no desks near the exit as there usually are. We almost went to sit down, but I looked at the time and thought it was too close to departure time. We decided to investigate the desk, which was now not chokka with people, and saw there were two girls, one checking passports and boarding passes, the other ticking names off the list. You then just walk outside onto the tarmac, get directed to the appropriate aircraft & climb on board using the aircraft's stairs!

Off to the Great Rift Valley

Thursday 2nd July Cool & overcast again. We watched the cattle being taken out to find pasture at 8.30, then looked over to the sheep pen, one ewe was rejecting one her new twins. Most are Dorper or Dorper cross. The cattle were very thin, many very weak and likely to die soon, even some yearlings. One old cow was no longer able to stand, so lay outside the house all day. They belong to Nicholas and his brother Moses. Nicholas earns some cash by using his vehicle to deliver meat, and by handling baggage at the airport.
We were shocked to be told our vehicle arrangements now had to be renegotiated, it had been agreed we'd just ensure it was full of petrol when returned! After two hours of frustrating discussions, we decided to use public transport as we didn't have enough money to fulfill the new demands!
It took an hour to reach the internet café, frequent traffic light failures cause long traffic jams; the traffic police control the large roundabouts but are sometimes very slow to let each line of traffic take its turn.
I found that Amex had changed its phone number to a collect one - no good for cell phoned! I wasn't sure if the only public phone we saw, complete with armed security guard, would even connect me to an operator. So I sent an emergency email to mum & dad, asking them to contact Amex on our behalf.
There was only a short 1/2-hour wait on the bus before it left. It took 2 1/2 hours to get to Duka Moj, a small ‘town’ between Mai Mahiu & Narok.
We were impressed by the lush feed near Limuru on way out of Nairobi, but it soon petered out. From Mai Mahiu, everywhere became more and more arid, any grass was short and brown, and the maize crops had failed: surviving plants were small, scattered, withered & dying.
We went to a small cafe for a little food and met a nice Maasai man, Ezekiel, who shared some of the problems in the district with us. John went to find a car to take us to Luka’s manyatta near Inkoirienito church, but we were very upset by the amount he'd negotiated, 3,000 Ksh (NZD 75!!!). We went to buy some food from one of the small stores: 4 kgs rice; 4 kgs maize flour; 2 l oil; some tea; 4 kgs sugar; a sack of potatoes (15 kgs?); total Ksh 1,000.
We stopped 3x on the way: 1) the unfinished clinic (above left) at Ole Sharo, built by church funds, an Australian dental team, NZ friends, + a Narok District Health Board grant. It still needs roofing, a doctor’s house, an incinerator + a toilet.








2) John’s 3-roomed house (left), a similar house for his mother (right) except built with traditional walls, the kitchen/store room (below left), and the “the deepest choo in Maasailand” (36 feet deep!) (below right). John was gifted 3 acres by Inkoirienito church for the work he's been doing for them. The houses' floors were unfinished, the kitchen/store needs mud plaster, the choo needs finishing. 3) Some neighbours: the wife has a bad back, her husband has TB.








The 25 km trip took 2 hours (including stops), so it was dark when we reached Luka’s manyatta. A tall boma (fence of thorn tree branches) surrounds most of the huts, the small failed vegetable patch + the animal enclosures. Small night pens made of twigs/mud with thatched roofs contain the youngest calves, kids & lambs. They are let out in the morning before their mums go out to graze, stay around the manyatta all day, then get another drink in the evening before being shut away again.
There are many huts here: one for each wife and some for others. Those who live here include Luka & his 2 wives (Maria & Joyce), his son Paulo + his family, Pastor Petro + his family, Luka’s father’s widow Raheli + her children – one of whom was widowed last year, and lastly John + his mum.
This time we stayed in Paulo’s hut (Maria’s son): 2 small rooms in a rectangular mud brick building with dirt floor & iron roof. He has 2 wives, Susanna and Yasintha, who is one of John’s 5 sisters.
Pics: our sitting room, bedroom, view from the window of traditional huts.


Traditional huts are oval, built (usually by women!) of woven twigs plastered with cow dung/mud. The narrow doorway leads into a narrow passageway, where young livestock may be kept at night. The main room contains a smoky cooking fire, 1-2 wooden stands for pots, pans and any other belongings, a timber/cowhide bed, + possibly some stools or a bench to sit on. A smaller room contains another bed for children/guests. Windows are a couple of 4-6" holes, often plugged with cloth for privacy! Smoke escapes through these + the space between the top of the walls & the roof.
Lots of people came to greet us when we arrived; we were pleased to see that the children weren’t scared this time! After being taken to our hut, we spent some time with some of the men, who wanted to share with us how the current drought was affecting them. They all had similar stories.
Moses had 30 sheep/goats, + some cattle, now he just has 5 sheep/goats. He has 1 wife and 5 children.
Isaya Kishau had 300 sheep/goats and 30 cattle, he now has 50 sheep & goats, and 13 cattle; 2 wives and 10 children.
Daniel Teeka had 10 sheep/goats and 7 cattle, he now has 3 sheep/goats and one cattle beast; 1 wife and 3 children. He’s John’s full brother.
Luka Kishau had 300 sheep/goats and 30 cattle. He now has 60 sheep/goats and 5 cattle; I'm not sure how many children he has, many are now married. He’s 53 years old, same as Bruce.
Paulo has no livestock of his own, his dad says he’s his ‘errand boy’, but he has two wives, and a number of children. Yasintha was expecting her fourth; I don’t know how many Susanna has.
Some people in the Inkoirienito community have lost all their cattle; all are finding it hard to cope. They say they have avoided malnutrition because everyone has been helping each other. In other places, if you go to your neighbour for help, you’ll be chased away. Between 40-50% are now Christians out of the thousand here.
Even the local leaders are in trouble, despite their small government salaries. One in Ewaso town having lost all his livestock, sold his fence!
The rains that usually arrive in March failed; there was just the odd short shower until mid-June when they got a week’s rain. Attempts to grow maize & beans failed; the cattle started to die from April on, the sheep & goats followed suit, even the donkeys.
John has been to World Vision in Narok but they don’t work in the area. He says there is no aid from the District Health Boards in Suswa or Narok, although an NGO leader told me that they are the ones organising relief food. It’s a long way to Narok, 12-15 kms on foot through the bush to Duka Moja, then another 45 kms to Narok by matatu (minibus taxi).
We were pleased to hear they want to form a Community Based Organisation (CBO) to better use donations and to access government funding. They want to fund projects such as helping people with school fees, loans for micro-enterprises, build water tanks/health clinics etc. Bruce said it could also act as a community bank: in good times they could deposit money from cattle sales & use it later for school fees.
A lesson from this year – heed the early warning signs, sell surplus stock or you lose them + your more valuable breeding stock.
Cattle had been worth 15,000 - 20,000 Ksh ($400), but are now 5,000 Ksh. Hides are worth only 50 Ksh, so dead cattle haven’t been skinned.
We ended up eating at 10! It was good to get to bed, but our sleep was disturbed by cold winds, dogs barking, pounding feet as they chased hyenas past our hut,then the whoops of hyenas in the distance.

Brussels with Eleanor

Monday 22nd June Nice breakfast of yoghurt, croissants, bread rolls, juice and strong coffee. The waitresses were kept busy pouring coffee, clearing and resetting tables. All the guests except us were French-speaking Africans so we felt quite at home!
As Eleanor had still not turned up 20 minutes after the arranged time to meet, I went downstairs to try to phone her and was successful on the second attempt. She was having problems owing to a faulty Google map, and no-one seemed to know where the hotel was. However, our helpful hotel receptionist soon gave her the right directions, and she arrived very quickly, she’d only been a short distance away! I was touched that they didn’t charge me for the phone calls
After spending some time discussing where to go, we set off for the Cathedral on the metro. It's a great public transport system, a day ticket takes you everywhere within the city. Unfortunately our camera’s batteries went flat, and Eleanor’s were too!

We enjoyed looking at the Bourse and Grand-Place – fantastic buildings, some decorated with gilt. There were some lovely paintings on sale in the square, as well as plants in pots. After buying museum and transport passes, we walked to the palace through some interesting gardens.
We were quite amused by the guards’ slow march, each arm being raised up to horizontal at each step. What a boring job!
The yummy chocolates + beautiful lace in the shop windows were very tempting, but we resisted very well. We only came across the Manneken Pis by accident, nearly missed it as it’s so SMALL, but I really don't understand why everyone raves over it so much, I think it’s rather rude!
We ate some spicey Turkish kebabs for lunch, before returning to the hotel for a rest, our feet were sore after all the cobbles, which are laid in scalloped patterns.
There didn't seem to be a good restaurant near our hotel, it's in rather a grotty neighbourhood, so we returned to town, ending up in a Thai restaurant near St Catherine’s and the Bourse. The food was beautifully served; Bruce had an orchid on his plate + my beef curry was served in a clay pot kept warm over a candle in a bowl.
An amusing incident – a police car stopped in a side-street, a second joined it, blocking the entrance – 2 other motorists tried to enter the street, blocking the main road as they couldn’t get past the police cars! Traffic started building up in the main road, people started honking their horns! Eventually one of the police cars was moved, restoring everything to order!