5:24am and morning prayers ring through the streets, and through the windows of our rented apartment in the center of Arusha. He sings, joined in turns by believers from their homes whose voices, when lifted in unison, surely must be heard in heaven. I wonder for what they pray.

Just a few miles away, I’m sure many of the Masai have just gone to bed with their cattle after a night full of elder storytelling ’round a fire, singing and jump-dancing.

Neither the singing of morning prayers nor the distant dancing of the Masai woke me, but instead some combination of jet lag coupled with the constant refrain that is sung in my own head, a prayer in its own right, that I might somehow find help and weave together enough of it to not only help Mama Lucy build her school here, but to do the same for many more people like her whose prayers to improve the lives of those around them are not simply words, nor songs, but impassioned hard work, sweat and tears poured out endlessly to create miracles.

Morning prayers ended, a mysterious goose-honking begins which will be followed soon by the sounds of roosters wakened by the sun rising over Mt. Meru, birds singing, dogs barking and second-hand trucks handed down for profit from the West whose brakes sound like fingernails scraped along chalkboards and which spew black clouds of smoke into the air and the windows of local homes. Today is a public holiday, though, so the sounds of human bustling may come a little later than usual. Normally, it comes early, the old women crouched on broken sidewalks selling mangos they’ve cultivated likely on small patches of land behind their huts, the throngs of young men with no hopes of employment who instead hustle toward tourists to showcase art they’ve fashioned from banana leaves, and women dressed in vibrantly colored khangas shelling peanuts they’ll roast over personal fires to sell to passersby.

As I wait for them to arrive in town, I flip on the television, greeted by Britney Spears shaking her bon-bon to what I believe was her most recent chart-topper, Gimme More – how fitting. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve a warm place in my heart for the former mouseketeer, but her voice (and jiggling tush) cut through this place like the giant rusted machete the toothless man on the corner uses to peel his oranges.

There are many such strange juxtapositions of local traditions and foreign influences here. Chickens wander outside the front doors of internet cafes. Masai warriors travel into town from their bomas to charge their cell phones at sidewalk booths that supply electrical outlets. A blue, mirrored high-rise built for westerners towers above a bus stop where rickety dala dalas meant for 12 passengers are packed with 30 or more locals who pay a dime for the privilege. Huts of mud and sticks lay next door to brand-new stucco homes. Pristine Land Rovers full of safari tourists barrel past wooden banana carts pulled miraculously by the body weight of children. Land that has for generations belonged to tribal ancestors is being purchased by speculators, developers and investors.

A local school has been evicted to make way for a new hotel.

Tanzania is in the midst of transformation. Who will lead these changes, who will benefit, and what will remain of her rich cultural heritage remains to be seen. My hope is that the impassioned hard work of Mama Lucy and many like her will harness these changes for the good of Tanzania’s children.

Posted: July 7th, 2008 under The Foundry.
Comments: 2

Recently Mama Lucy wrote this note, and sent the photos below, to share with you her next goal: a school bus for Shepherds Junior. She wrote:

“Our next goal is to have reliable transport for children and teachers. The school van we have is for 18 passengers, but carries more than 30 pupils and five teachers. In order to fit, they have to carry one another. More than 140 of our pupils depend on one school van and one hired van for transport each day.

If it was possible for our school to move from a rented building to our very own new beautiful buildings, and if we started carrying pupils with one “Toyota Corolla” as transport (carrying up to 10 pupils instead of 5) in 2004 and now we have a school van, definitely, we can move from that to our school bus. How? I don’t know, but I know there’s a way!

This came in my mind several times one evening before I went to bed, on 19th June 2008. I closed my eyes, then started to see the trend of pictures of how we started. It was like a movie. A very interesting one!

By then, I was trying to think of how pupils are squeezing in our school van and a hired vehicle. There’s no more space for even a single child. The teachers too, are squeezing in the same vehicles. Not enough air inside, but they are still happy! That’s how we are moving!

What will be next if more students will join our school, and need to use the school transport? That is a major question clicking in my head.

We do remember of how you good people struggled to make sure we have land and buildings. As you did for that, your donations still count a lot! Many new children have come to our school since you’ve helped us to build such a great facility; now we need to find a way to get all of the children who want to attend our school safely to and from school each morning and evening.

Thank you so much for your help. We do really appreciate it!

Tomorrow, I’ll depart Frankfurt for Tanzania. On this trip, I’d hoped (and still hope!) to make our next loan, for a school bus for Shepherds Junior. While we’ve raised over $6,000 toward the effort to date, the total cost of the bus is estimated to be $25,000 – so we’re definitely not there yet. I really hope you’ll help by donating now, and spreading the word to others who might be able to help out. Remember, this school was built primarily from donations of about $20; if we all do a little, together we can make an epic difference.

One of the parents at the school, Gidori, once told us that his son, Gideon, wouldn’t be able to attend Shepherds Junior if transportation weren’t offered. He simply can’t afford any other form of transportation that’s safe for his son.

What impact has the availability or lack of school transportation options meant to your child’s education?

Posted: July 2nd, 2008 under The Foundry, Updates from Mama.
Comments: 1