By Lian, Aug 15, 2006
...For the final portion of my trip, I did some volunteer work for five days. I went to the small village of Babati, about 3 hours by bus from Arusha (it would've been less, but halfway there the road just ends and its slow-going gravel). Babati is a town of about 30,000 people, mostly focused on agriculture. I hooked up with a company there who connects workers with communities in need. My project was a renovation of Sinai Primary School, serving roughly 600 students in only 5 classrooms. The school was about 2 miles from town, so every morning my guide and I rode our bicycles down to the job site. They had this HUGE bike for me to ride--I could barely touch the pedals!
I also seemed to be the only woman riding a bike in town--apparently in the villages, it's not "appropriate" for women to ride. The schoolhouse which was our project had so many things that needed to be done, it was hard to choose what to do with my little time. The building was literally only bricks and mortar with a simple metal roof; there is no floor (currently, it's dirt), no windows or doors (and thus no security or protection from the rainy season), and no plaster holding it all together. The students seem to get along fine though; all they seem to need to learn is desks, notebooks, a teacher at the blackboard and motivation (worldwide, the toughest ingredient of all).
The way the organization had been described to me, I was under the impression that I was donating my time and labor, and the project costs came out of the fee I paid the operator. Of course, when I got there it turned out that my fee was only for my guide, housing and board; additional funds were needed to pay for the project materials. Even though these were billed as "volunteer", it quickly became obvious that the project could not go forward unless I provided the funds. Of course I would have loved to have been able to finish off the schoolhouse so that the students would have a good learning environment, but I had only brought a limited amount of cash with me for this portion. After a lot of discussion, we decided that the most important item was plaster for the exterior of the building, so we tackled that.
The process was very interesting--everything in Tanzania (or the countryside, anyway) is done by hand. Machines are too expensive--there isn't even enough money for glass in the windows! First, the last course of bricks had to be completed under the roof before we could plaster. Mortar was made by making a big hole in the ground with a hoe and pick-axe--my back was killing me at the get-go! The resulting soil is mixed with water to make a simple mud mortar; they mix the two together with their feet, much like stomping grapes!
Once the bricks were laid, we got to work plastering the building. First, the bricks had to be prepared by spraying them with water.
What I wouldn't have given for a hose! Water was brought in big drums by ox-cart, and then we threw big buckets of water onto the building. I think I got myself more wet than the building.
Next, it was time to mix the cement. We mixed 8 (or was it 12? I can't remember...but I do know it was unbelievably heavy) buckets of sand with every 1 bag of cement; again everything was done by hand. It was a slow, tedious process--everything is mixed with shovels and no mixing bin, so you had to be very careful how you fold everything in. It's definitely an art, with no cement mixing trucks!
Next, came the fun part, applying the cement plaster to the bricks. It was essentially like doing shotcrete, but without the big pressurized hose doing all the work for you. You take a big pile of cement, a trowel, and throw big (or in my case, small) lumps of it at the bricks. You hope it sticks, instead of futilely falling to the ground. I was pretty covered in cement after the first day; it was pretty slow-going for me for the first couple of days. The professionals, they just fly!
After the initial layer of cement is laid down, the pros went back in and applied a finish coat, throwing more cement on the wall and hand-troweling everything several times. Once they are done, it amazed me that it was 100% handmade--it looked smooth as silk.
We proceeded like this and finished 75% in three days. Unfortunately I had to leave before the front side was completed, but the rest looks pretty good. The last day we cut it a bit short as well, as it was Sunday and we had worked all the way through the weekend. I got a lot of questions on Sunday about whether or not I go to church on Sunday. Most people here are either Christian or Muslim (mostly Christian), but even with this diversity I had to be very careful in how I explained I have no religion. I wanted to be careful for two reasons: the first was so I wouldn't appear as disrespectful to their religion, and the second was so that I could avoid unnecessary preaching. I think I was successful in the first, but only sometimes in the second.
There were also several dignitaries who dropped by to thank me for the work I was doing and the gift I had made. I began to loose track after a while--chairman of that, and muckety-muck from this; but they were all very down to earth, and not above lifting a shovel or two (but not usually more than that--they wanted to just chat). One even sent over a live chicken as a thank you! It was the cutest chicken ever, and then it was the best lunch I had in Babati. It made me really sad, though, to hold the chicken right before it was slaughtered. I'm considering trying to stick to vegetarianism when I come home (heh...)
The children were really fascinated by me and the process; whenever they were out to recess they would gather in greater and greater numbers and just watch. I didn't realize anything was happening until I turned around and a large chunk of the school was sitting around, watching. I'm not sure if they were intrigued by the process, the fact that I was a foreigner, or the fact that I was a young woman doing manual labor. Whichever it was, it was a little unsettling at first, having all those eyes on you as you accidentally spray yourself with cement. But I got more comfortable after I showed them pictures of themselves on the back of my digital camera. They LOVED that--I was mobbed by 150 kids all wanting a look!
One day I took a break from construction to teach an English class. This basically consisted of me standing in front of about 30-40 kids, and speaking very slowly about me and my life. They didn't understand very much--most of it had to be interpreted into Swahili because their English wasn't advanced enough. I told them about my vital stats (name, age, hometown, occupation), and a little about my family and where they came from. I taught them "Head, Shoulders Knees and Toes". They were pretty shy kids, but when the Q&A came, they asked the inevitable question of whether or not I was married. I had to explain very carefully how people in America usually get married much later than those in Tanzania.
On the last day, they had me say a few words to the children at the morning assembly. Through an interpreter, I thanked them for welcoming me into their community and wished them well in enjoying their new classroom. I asked them to study hard, and be good to their teachers, as education was the key that will unlock many doors for them. Cheezy, I know, but I felt like I was required to impart some golden words to them, or something.
They had a couple student representatives make thank you speaches to me, and then they surprised me with a traditional tribal song & dance. A group of women from the Iraqi Tribe (descendants from Iraq, I would suppose) sang two beautiful tribal songs, just their chanting voices in call-and-repeat and a small drum. For the second song they gave me a traditional Masai cloth, dressed me in it and asked me to dance with them!
It was a riot--I tried my best, but I think I amused the kids more than anything. The whole experience was wonderful and deeply rewarding.
In the first place, I got to actually use my own two hands for once to build a building, instead of just a keyboard and a mouse. Secondly, I really felt like I provided something positive in the world; something simple that can improve the lives of many children. My only regret is that I couldn't have done more; the schoolhouse is still very far from being adequate beyond minimal shelter. It still needs plaster on the inside, doors and windows, and a floor. Hopefully over time I'll be able to fundraise some additional funds to help continue the process.
Find the trip Lian went on here 
