Tanzania does not have much of a culture of prevention yet. This is what businesses are up against here, the ‘if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it’ mindset. Trouble with that and motorcycle maintenance (or any kind of maintenance of course) is that to ignore a problem that is developing is to prepare yourself for a bigger problem and potential accident in the future. It’s this culture that meant that the eRanger ambulance motorcycles, donated by the Tanzanian government to hospitals around the country, stopped working after 1000 km. They were not maintained, the locals didn’t know how and they didn’t assign a priority to the task. That's how they ended up in Claire's workshop to be repaired.
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So, unfortunately the Pikilily project as it stands has to be shut down. I won’t go into details here, this video post – raw and totally unscripted – gives all the details. What it does not show you is the events of the last 48 hours which demonstrated the strength and resilience of the human spirit and the determination of a lady who will never give up. Shit happens. It happens a lot here, every day. Big shit, not the kind you and I are used to, like leaving your phone charger in a hotel room you’ve just checked out of, but the kind that determines whether or not you and your kids will eat today. Seeing that first hand is a pretty humbling experience, listening to wages being defined not so much in money but in food purchasing terms. When the girls at Pikilily ask for wages, it’s food that is always the primary reason they’re asking for. I had the privilege of joining a camping safari here in Tanzania with four strangers, at least that’s how they started out, now they’re good friends. That’s what happens when you rough it for a couple of nights – you’ll ether want to hug or stab your companions after sharing just a few hours in a small confined space. It’s the combination of the closeness, lack of showers, only very basic toilet facilities with … umm.. interesting odours and night sounds coming from predatory animals and humans which, let’s face it, are sleeping practically next to you with only a thin bit of tarpaulin. That’s the humans by the way, to the best of my knowledge…
Home for the month is a wooden bungalow with a wide verandah and two guard dogs, Rafiki and Sasha. Around the house is a big garden with Mango, Lemon, Tangerine, Avocado trees (to name but a few) and pungent and colourful flowers of many varieties, attracting the most colourful birds. Black Kites are abundant and swoop to the ground all around you, they're so common that after a while they cease to draw your gaze upwards. Which is a good thing too because you need your wits about you on the roads where pedestrians are second class citizens and make way for the cars, trucks and motorbikes.
I sometimes wonder if the hidden purpose of a long journey by plane or by train is not to get you to where you’re going but to give you some solid, unbroken thinking and reading time. Moments before leaving for Mwanza I chose a couple of books at random from the bookshelf and found myself so sucked in to one of them that I forgot to be afraid at take-off. The book was ‘Illusions’ by Richard Bach, author of Jonathan Livingston Seagull, a classic.
Two. It's a funny word. If you say it often enough it's one of those that loses all meaning. I recently spent some time with my grandson who is learning Welsh. He kept saying 'Die, Die, Die!' to me while simultaneously attacking me with a couple of Paw Patrol figures. I thought it a bit harsh considering I was doing my best to entertain him, but now I realise that 'Dau' is the word for two in Welsh and it sounds exactly like... you get it. I've packed a lot of brightly coloured things, so I don't stand out in Africa by being beige. Currency obtained (dollars of course), two phones, chargers, small stuffed furry animal and various bits of ironmongery poked into the corners of my suitcase. Sounds dodgy eh, that stuffed animal? Hoping they'll allow it in the hold. I'm trying to get out on the Tiger one last time before leaving, perhaps I'll be able to borrow a small 250cc from Claire once in Mwanza and run up and down some dusty roads scaring chickens. Or maybe there are no chickens in the road? Perhaps they've all crossed over? If so, why? I don't think that pictures of my packing are actually that interesting, likewise of me eating or sleeping, so instead here's an photo of a slow worm, taken at the weekend in Wales. Apparently neither worm nor snake, it's a lizard. I expect I'll be seeing many more lizards where I'm going.. For now just a short update, I look forward to filling you in on the situation in Mwanza regarding the Pikilily project from the ground on the next blog. Exciting times :-)
My first haul, planes, F clamps, a drill, spare plane blades. All together this bundle weighs 16 kg. with a few bits of linen I can get them into a suitcase and use one of my 23kg Air Kenya baggage allowances. I guess I'll just have to travel light - my glittery thongs and hairdryer (plus hot brush), several different types of foundation and my Airfix Spitfire model kit for spare evenings will just have to be left off the packing list this time. There is a serious side to this of course, just go look in your garage. Now, go do it, don't give me any of your excuses, now is all we have. Find a rusty screwdriver an old multimeter or hammer and get in touch with Tool Aid or Tools for Self Reliance if you're in the UK. If you're international, just google 'refurbished tools' for Africa and I'm sure you'll find something similar. It really is a whole lot better than throwing money their way. It's now just a few weeks till I leave for Mwanza to join Claire and help out for a while at Pikilily. But let me take you back a while to where the idea to volunteer for a Social Enterprise in Africa first took hold in me.
Driving back from a visit to my daughter in Wales I like to listen to random podcasts. I know that if they cover Psychology, Philosophy, Cosmology or Adventure Bike riding I'm going to have a great journey home. And before you ask, yes, I am a boring dinner guest. I like the randomness of letting them just play too, not really choosing which episodes you hear or what order as often what you least expect to inspire you actually widens your perspectives. Like 'Lenses - polishing as a hobby'. That really widens your perspective. Random podcast from Adventure Bike Rider radio is playing as I cross the Severn Bridge and wonder why you only pay when you enter Wales and not when you leave. It's an interview with Claire Elsdon who is already a superhuman pod person in my book because of her decision to leave a great job in London and ride her motorbike from London to Cape Town. But there was much more to her story and it immediately got me sitting up in the driving seat and perky as a Meercat on stilts. You see Claire is inspirational because she saw an immense problem and didn't think, 'oh I'm just one person, what can I do?' but instead she just thought, 'what can I do?'. It turns out, just follow your heart. The problem is that in Tanzania, along with many other developing countries, road deaths are a major killer and many of them are totally avoidable. Poor or zero bike maintenance, training, safety awareness are killing people daily. People who have other lives depending on them. What happens to the children of those parents killed on the roads? It's not a good outcome. Then there's the pregnant mothers who can't get to hospital to have their baby because there's no transport. So they die in childbirth, 24 of them daily it's estimated. These are things that Claire is doing something about - improving awareness, training on road safety, training on maintenance, establishing a motorbike ambulance service. It's working, but it needs more help. I just knew this was something I wanted to get involved in. As soon as I got home I listened again to the podcast and emailed Claire. Great, she said, I could be useful. I'd practically already packed. This is the first blog of what I hope will be several charting my time in Tanzania. Who knows where this will lead, I certainly don't have a clue, but I - like Claire - am ready to find out. |
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