Admittedly, my wife, Alex, and my first feeling upon arriving at Hananasif Academy was apprehension. The drive in the back of the Range Rover from Dar es Salaam began on well paved roads and the first turn onto the well maintained dirt road was reassuring enough. The road led down a large hill into the valley where men were pushing up bikes stacked 6 feet high with burnt wood to sell in the market 10 miles further down the road. As we went further, the bicyclists became scarce, the cement homes were replaced with stick and mud dwellings and the paved dirt road turned to sand. A few miles past a very small village, we took another turn directly into field, followed some small tracks and soon arrived at the academy. If we didn’t know what being “in the bush” meant before, we did now.
Our trip to Africa had come together only weeks before. My new job did not begin for 3 months and we wanted to travel somewhere, anywhere really, that would broaden our 8 and 11 year old girls’ view of the world. We also wanted a volunteer experience that would instill in the girls (and perhaps reinstill within us) a feeling of empathy for those less fortunate. Our local church sponsored Hananasif and put us in touch with Sydney, who many of you know started the academy with Hezekia, a Tanzanian minister, just 3 years prior. For those of you who don’t know their story, spend 5 minutes watching their YouTube introduction video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2gM3pOcVCvg
Our adventure, I dreamed, was exactly the situation I was looking for. I figured I could raise enough funds to bring a dozen or so netbook computers to the school and then would underwrite a satellite feed for internet access. I believe that access to the internet and 21 century technologies will play a major role in Africa’s emergence out of poverty.
We solicited questions from our kids’ classmates with the hope of establishing a pen pal based relationship with their school, collected used soccer jerseys for the kids and even had medwish.org send us boxes of medical supplies to take. Typical of many ignorant but well-meaning volunteers, my dreams fell short of the reality.
First, a satellite feed to support 10 computers would cost over $400 a month after the cost of installation. Moreover, the school’s generator had died, so we had to first address their electrical needs. Luckily, a student named Gustaf who had been on Kujali’s pilot Study Abroad program was scheduled to come back both with solar panels and the know-how to set it up and maintain a solar power system. I figured I could drop a few computers and add a couple of solar panels to our load. (For Gustaf and fellow student Irene’s story, see the June 23rd blog on http://www.kujali.org/blog/ ).
Without much more planning than that, we arrived. School was on break, but the handful of kids greeted us with enthusiastic but broken English. After showing us to the “White House” where our family would stay, we were given a tour of the “Shamba” (”farm” in Swahili). Hananasif had purchased 300 acres of land in 2006 at a very reasonable price because it was thirty miles outside of Dar, and the land was sandy. But for Hezekia, and most importantly for the 82 kids, the Shamba represented hope for the future, their “Promised Land”.
After the tour, we settled in. “Yes girls, that hole next to the open air window is both our shower and toilet and here is the bucket of water to facilitate either activity, drawn by the way from the well with a foot pump and carried the hundred yards to our residence.” “No, we have to save our dozen granola bars and 3 jugs of bottles water for later.” “Why don’t you help me put up these mosquito nets for tonight? Mom doesn’t trust the net for the bunks, so you’ll all be sleeping together on this full sized bed.” Later that night, after a meal of ugali (corn meal mush) and beans cooked over the open fire and eaten under gleam of our flashlights (the solar panels wouldn’t be installed for two weeks), Alex wondered if maybe we did not need to stay for 6 full days. As I listened to the undecipherable noises outside in my bunk bed, I wanted to agree.
I am happy to report that we stayed. The kids actually adapted better and easier then we did. Our main task was interviewing the kids, the results of which you’ll see at www.hananasif.org over the coming weeks. Most of the children were reluctant to delve into their pasts, though, and we didn’t push them. Instead, they wanted to express their thankfulness for the opportunity to study and learn and to share their hope for the future. Much of our time was spent “hanging out”. The girls made friendship bracelets with many of the girls, we watched some exhilarating soccer matches with the boys, and sang with them all under the stars every night. We chatted, explaining how the son of a native of Africa could be president in our country while learning about the limits of Tanzania’s educational system.
While we were in Tanzania, we learned the African word “ubuntu”. Ubuntu is about how we are all interconnected in this world and what you do affects all of humanity. Only time will tell if our kids internalized “ubuntu”, though it was present in each and every breath and brick of the Shamba. Alex and I still marvel at what faith and team work has already accomplished there. With each papaya tree planted, each kinked irrigation lines ironed out by hand, and each self-made brick added to a building at Hananasif Academy, the kids have transformed this land into their Promised Land. I’d like to say that my family was critical to the orphanage/school’s success, but no.
We did plant 4 out of the 1,000 papaya trees, the girls taught the students a few songs to add to their nightly repertoire, my wife taught the kids about using the medical supplies and the need for covering open wounds, and I taught a few classes in Entrepreneurship. We, like most volunteers, took back much more than we gave. However, in return for their undefinable gifts, we hope to share their story and help build a base of support so that their faith is justified and their hopes are possible.
We hope you’ll share in our commitment, and who knows, maybe even make it to Hananasif with your family!
