SEGA School for Girls

Courtyard and classrooms

While in Tanzania, we had the opportunity to step off the beaten tourist path and make our way to Morogoro, a bustling, mid-size city with the beautiful Uluguru Mountains posing as a backdrop. Our mission was tri-fold: celebrate Thanksgiving, hike into the mountains to see Mustafa the strawberry farmer, and the main event: visit the Secondary Education for Girls’ Advancement (SEGA) school for girls.  The school was founded last year by American Polly Dolan and in conjunction with financial and technical backing from Nurturing Minds in Africa.  It was Polly herself who greeted us upon our arrival. Following her introduction was a hearty welcome by the girls who were prepared with a lively song and dance for us. Since it was the Muslim holiday of Eid, classes were canceled in favor of a morning spent working in the garden.

A FEW DETAILS SEGA has been in operation just one year and has been quite successful. So much so,  that when the new January 2010 term begins, the roster will nearly double. Thirty new girls will have the privilege of attending SEGA and the original girls will begin boarding full-time. Currently, 28 students between the ages of 14-17 are in attendance. The application process is fairly rigorous. Each girl must receive a passing score on the Standard 7’s, (standardized test in Tanzania) complete an interview, and participate in a home visit. Polly wants to ensure that each girl, as well as her family, is committed to her education. Parents are required to pay a small monthly portion of the tuition, and the remainder is made up by various sponsors that Polly, Nurturing Minds, and various other contacts have recruited. Tuition is approximately $700 per year.  This is a pittance compared to most private schools in the States, but an impossible, even impractical, dream for most Tanzanian parents.

WHY GIRLS? Girls are the ones that usually end up dropping out of school first in order to bear some sort of responsibility. That could be to maintain life at home, to care for siblings or ailing parents, to work, or to take care of their own children. Rape and sexual abuse is not uncommon. To compound the dire situation, marriage beginning at 12 years old is allowed by law. If they are not being exploited in this manner, it is quite possible that that will be sent to another country to become a domestic worker.  A Tanzanian girl who has finished her education is not common; yet, through the work of SEGA and other similar schools, this can and will change.

MORE THAN READING AND 'RITHMETIC Let’s get back to the garden. The garden in its current form is the product of the enthusiasm and extensive knowledge of Lindsey, an American volunteering at the school for about six months.  This project fills a few important needs. First and most obviously, the girls are growing food for themselves as well as their families. Each student gets their own row to plant and harvest. The girls will even be able to sell their food back to the school, thereby earning a little money. The payoff of this project is not just a full stomach or a few shillings, although both of those are vital and necessary. The real reward comes in the sense of pride and ownership that each girl can develop. Beans might be growing in the SEGA garden- but empowerment is growing in the souls of its students.

The morning we visited was blazing hot; not atypical for Tanzanians, but life-draining for us pansied Americans. The heat did not deter any of the girls from efficiently wielding shovels or hoes. Most of them even managed to look pretty happy about it. I marveled at the contrast between what I was watching, and what I was envisioning back home. I know plenty of American high school girls who would probably rather cut off their hair than work for even five minutes in a garden, especially one in sweltering heat. Then again, most American high school girls know when  they are going to eat next.

We wrapped up the visit with a simple and delicious meal of rice, beans and mchicha, a  green vegetable they are growing in their garden. The students get a hot meal every school day, cooked by a local woman. The community is involved in the education of these girls; from the cook, to the newly hired bus driver, to the security guard turned gardener who is also taking pride in some new lessons. Previously, he was only tasked with the job of ensuring nothing happened to the sparkling new facilities. Now, with a little training, he is teaching the girls how to best cultivate their rows of vegetables. His pride is tangible. The community impact has been immediate, but more importantly, sustainable. Not only are young minds being educated, but local resources are being utilized. The real fun began after lunch with a round of picture-taking. The ladies love that camera!

CONSIDER THIS.... The school is such a beautiful demonstration of a vision come to life. The best part? The obvious pride the girls took in welcoming us to their world. Each student seems so happy to be at SEGA, to be learning, interacting, growing,  and working towards something. Great women and leaders are in the imminent future for the communities of Tanzania because of schools like this one. I am privileged to have visited and to have met Polly, the volunteers, and the girls. Amanda, Suby, and I decided to pool our resources and sponsor a girl for the upcoming school term. We have been there and we can appreciate the work that is being done. Most importantly, we know exactly where our money is going. If you have any interest in contributing to this worthy cause, please let me know. There are more girls still waiting for this amazing opportunity. Interviews and home visits are being completed now for immediate admission to SEGA. If you want to check it out for yourself, please visit the Nurturing Minds website. Even better, head over to YouTube to watch a brief and poignant documentary produced by Katy Karnell,  our friend and contact in Tanzania, (whose home we stayed in) highlighting some of the girls' personal stories.  You will notice that the video was made prior to the total completion of the school, but the clarity of the mission is easily and quickly understood.      

A little lapse with my luggage.....

I went on an excursion with Adam just this past weekend to the moutains of West Virginia. Yes, I live in a mountainous area of West Virginia, but these were the real mountains. As in, I had no cell service the entire time. It was wonderful, beautiful, relaxing, awesome. All of the appropriate adjectives apply. In fact, it was so relaxing that when I left, I did so without taking any of my luggage. That's right-I just walked out of the cabin and into the car and left it there. Not a care in the world had I, not a single one. So the question remains: How is it possible that I can travel the world over-through cities, villages, deserts, savannas, and mountains, on planes, trains, buses, boats, rickshaws, and never lose or forget a single item of my belongings? Yet, I go two hours from home, still in my own state,  and leave all of my clothes. Unbelievable!  Bright spot in this cloud: At least I got a few good pictures.

 

 

Stuffing and Bathing Suits: Happy Thanksgiving to Me!

The Thanksgiving holiday this year was interesting-a vastly different environment, yet not without some of the usual accoutrements that typically accompany this day. I was slightly bummed to be missing my family celebration this year, but not bummed enough to stay home. Turkey in West Virginia vs. Wild Animals in Africa.....that is a no-brainer for me. Having said that, when Thursday found us waking at 5 AM, mumbling a Thanksgiving day greeting to each other, and once more hauling our stuff into a waiting bus, I felt a touch of the holiday funk start to wash over me. This was soon to be displaced, albeit temporarily, by outright fear for my life on the bus ride. If you have not done so already, please read the previous post for a breakdown of bus rides in Tanzania. Then you can come back.

So there we were, all settled in for the eight hour ride to Morogoro. It is hot as Hades, cramped (remember, I am sharing the seat with a man twice my size) and I am hungry. Longingly, I think of the feast at home and my family around the table. This is my first holiday being engaged, and not only am I not there, I am not even sure that a telephone call to Adam will be in my imminent future. Oh dear. Will he think I forgot about him? Surely, he knows that I will still.....oh wait! We just nearly had a head-on collision with another large bus, and my bus driver's head is drooping. This reverie is postponed until later when I can stop the ceaseless prayers.

After eight sweaty, cramped, hungry, thirsty hours, we arrive in Morogoro to a chaotic scene of buses, taxis, and touts. There is lots of yelling and shouting from people who desperately want us to choose their taxi for the next leg of our journey. I am not in the mood for this. We don't see our friend, so we have no choice but to take a taxi to the center of town to find the supermarket because that is near where the internet cafe is and we need the internet to find the number of either our friend or the farm at which we are staying and then we need to find a phone so that we can attempt to enjoy what is left of this day.   That is exactly how the thoughts were running in my head. A shower and a meal seemed a dismal prospect. Thanksgiving joy? Forget it.

Then, in the time it has taken me to write these few paragraphs, the tide of gloom turned to a veritable fountain (or maybe just a spray) of happiness. We found some mango juice next to the internet cafe and followed that up with some ice cream at the supermarket. With sugar coursing through my body, the world was looking much better. Armed with the telephone number we needed, a random and very nice man let us use his cell phone without even charging us. (Completely off topic: if you ever need to use a phone in Tanzania, it is usually no problem as long as it is domestic. Many Tanzanians will let you use their cell phone if you compensate them anywhere from .50-$2).  Then came our crowning moment of the day, the moment that defined this day and now graces the title of this post. Katy, our friend and contact in country, arrived in her air-conditioned vehicle, bearing the news that not only had she prepared stuffing to accompany dinner, but that there was a pool at the place we were staying! This last piece of information was met with brief exultation until we all realized that we had left our bathing suits at her home three hours away. Spirits down. Spirits jubilantly high when she informed us that she had brought them with her and the pool was ours for the taking!

So, to sum up, it was not my usual Thanksgiving in many respects. It was, however, one for the memory books. The menu was mostly the same. I was beyond thrilled when I was able to eat real mashed potatoes swimming in a delicious pool of gravy. The stuffing? Amazing. Just like at home, I did have to take a long ride in a vehicle to get to dinner, although the two hours in my clean, roomy, temperature-controlled car does not quite compare to this year's ride. That is probably where the similarities end though. I do not ever recall swooning in near ecstasy over the prospect of swimming before dinner (at least at that time of year) or the presence of stuffing.  Sitting around the candlelit table that evening under the African sky, I wished I could preserve the contentment of the occasion. There was great food, new people to make friends with, and old friends with whom to chalk up another treasured memory. I knew that next year would bring a different happiness, another type of gratification-I will have a husband to call family by then.  Yet, for that moment, I just wanted to relish the warm glow of my African Thanskgiving.

This is what I find funny....

I took lots of pictures in Tanzania. Many of those will never see the light of day again. Others, I am pretty darn impressed with. And these? Well these have a special category all of their own. They all make me laugh just by looking at them. Some of you may understand why at first glance; others of you will just have to wonder at my sense of humor. Either way, enjoy and make up a caption if you wish! The best captions will be posted under the picture in a separate blog entry,with your name and a link to your blog or website- once I figure out how to actually do that. I am having some technical issues today, which is why you are not reading this paragraph until halfway down the page.

Joy O' Public Transit

Backpacking across a continent or country inherently means that a chunk of your time will be in spent in transit. Presumably, if you are backpacking, you are doing it on a shoestring budget. Which means, go as the locals go. That could be by bus, train, boat, tuk-tuk, dalla-dalla, combi, or your own two feet. This most recent trip to Tanzania was absolutely no exception. We spent some quality time on large, non-airconditioned, dirty buses, packed with people and luggage. As I was bumping along on an 8 hour ride from Arusha to Morogoro Thanksgiving day, I pondered that the only good thing about these long rides is that it gives me a chance to catch a glimpse of life  in whatever location I happen to find myself. In Tanzania, I watched snippets of routine unfold before me-market day, washing day, meeting day, and  "rush hour" all provided colorful explanations of the routine of daily living.

Let me stop there. For that is the ONLY, I repeat ONLY positive attribute of such a ride. Did I mention that many of the vessels of transit I have taken over the years are veritable deathtraps? Again, Tanzania was no exception. For example, hurtling along in a large bus, indiscrimanately passing other buses, cars, bicycles, goat herds and crowds of small children found me sitting with my heart in my throat. These were not interstates we were traveling upon. No, these were paved (barely) roads with tight curves,  no markings, no lane boundaries, no shoulder, nothing. Everyone uses these roads to get where they are going in whatever type of transportation they can muster. Consequently, it's an obstacle course of roadblocks. At least, that is how our driver apparently saw them as he whipped past TODDLERS on the side of the road! Speaking of the driver, he also chugged several Red Bulls during the course of this ride, presumably to stay awake. That became my assumption just after I had the misfortune of looking in his rearview mirror and seeing his eyes and head drooping. This is the point in our journey when the prayers heavenward were amplified with a quickness. To complete this situation, we passed not one, not two, but three major accidents involving tractor trailers turned over on their side in a twisted heap of metal and wreckage. Not a comfort as we zoomed past. I was also sharing a seat with a man twice my size, which was a welcome relief after the woman three times my size attempted to wedge herself in beside me. It was sweltering, I was sweaty and filthy, I couldn't move, and fear for my life was in abundance. In spite of all this though, (or perhaps because of) I wouldn't do it any other way. The exposure to life in Tanzania (or Bangladesh, or Costa Rica, or wherever) even from a bus window, is well worth the discomfort and the pittance fare. Happy Thanksgiving to me!

Oh, What a Wonderful World!

Never in my life have I witnessed unparalled beauty, splendor, and raw majesty in nature. Truly humbling. The vistas of the Ngorongoro Crater are magnificent, testament to the work of a Creator. Quietly observing the rhythm of routine was a privilege that I may never encounter again.

My favorite part? Watching the Discovery Channel unfold in front of my eyes as two cheetahs, slinking through the grass, stalked a giant herd of wildebeests and a smattering of zebras. They were trying to play it cool-advancing a few yards and then frolicking and rolling around as if they were merely out for a stroll and not their lunch. The intent to kill was obvious to all who were watching, but not to the happily munching  herbivores.

Inexplicably, the cheetahs gave up after a time and stalked back towards us. This was good for our cameras and of course, the wildebeests. I actually found myself a bit disappointed though. My heart had been pounding, wondering if I was going to see the circle of life in action. My disappointment caused me to ponder just exactly how I went from "accidentally" letting fish go uncaught when fishing with Adam, to hoping to see blood and gore on the Crater floor. How is this even possible? I attribute it to the heat of the moment....when in Africa, do as they do. Or something. Those cheetahs were things of beauty-sleek bodies and proud faces. Later, a faint rainbow peeking through the mist solidified my contentment with this adventure. Oh, what a wonderful world!                                     

 

Does This Sound Like a Vacation to You?

I haven't even left yet, and I am already exhausted. Just pondering the sheer amount of travel we are going to be doing has me dragging. After flying 20 hours to get there, we are going to get up in the morning and travel eight hours by bus back up to the northern part of Tanzania where we will be "safariing." Is that a word? Incidentally, we will have already landed in this area as our first point of entry the night before. However, KLM is being snotty and telling us that we cannot disembark there. Pew on KLM. I have been eagerly anticipating this trip for nine whole months now, but  a vacation it is not. Imagine yourself leaving your already hectic life, transporting yourself across the world one Thursday afternoon, awakening Saturday morning in the capital city of an African country, and then hopping on a bus to go meet a jeep that will ferry you around while viewing wild animals that you usually only see on television. Then, keeping up that pace for two hectic weeks while simultaneously attempting to navigate the terrain and the transportation system , plus  trying to fend of mosquitoes and other agents of disease every day. Does this sound like fun to you? No? I cannot imagine why not! Yet, it's a slice of heaven to me. I will come back exhausted, but I will also come back happy.