The Day We Saw the President

Friday morning, our headmistress called to me as I stepped into the office at school.  It seems that the president of Tanzania would be coming to a nearby event Saturday, and that our headmistress would be able to attend and bring along about 15 people.  She asked if Mark and I would like to go.  Absolutely!

So, at 7:30 the next morning in a light drizzle, we presented ourselves at her office, along with a few other teachers and several students.  A nearby private school had received the same invitation, so we were able to ride to the event with them in their small bus.  The bus was allowed only to the entrance of the gravel road leading to where the event was to be held, so we went the rest of the way on foot.  As we walked, the rain began to come down harder.

Arriving at the spot, we saw that two tents for spectators and one for officials had been set up.  There were many other attendees, but our headmistress was able to snag seats at one side of a tent for me, Mark, and herself.  I handed my umbrella to another teacher, and sat down to wait.

The wind started blowing, so that we were getting wet even under the tent.  The organizers of the event were kept busy applying a squeegee to the red carpet and rearranging chairs in the officials' tent.  At one point, we were shooed out of our seats so that bomb-detection dogs could patrol the area, but we were allowed to resume our seats shortly.  We were surrounded by military troops, but there were no metal detectors or other searches for weapons.  

Finally, the rain was so persistent that we were told to take our chairs and move to the auditorium of a nearby building.  (And, why we weren't there from the beginning, I do NOT know!)  By then, the grounds were mucky and difficult to walk through.  One of our students took my chair and led me in the right direction.  I became separated from Mark and our headmistress, and soon the mud started sucking at my feet.  I was wearing flats, and my foot came out of one, which rapidly filled with muddy water.  I lost my balance, and put my hands on the ground to keep from toppling over completely.  I rescued my shoe, and ended up walking to a bit of pavement barefoot. I put my shoes back on for protection, but by now they both had more mud inside than out.  I found a gravel path to the building, and was met there by the student, who showed me to a chair and offered to get water to wash my hands.

Feeling a little better, I sat down to wait again.  I learned later that the rain began to let up at that point.  The president was due at 9:30, but did not arrive until over an hour later.  A group of Maasai women in elaborate jewelry greeted him with a song.  He gave a nice speech about education, health care, and roads, as far as I can tell--it was entirely in Swahili. 

Afterwards, we walked back to the paved road and the bus in the rain, which again was falling heavily. By now we were thoroughly drenched.  At home, I washed my feet and my shoes in a bucket of water.  I am still waiting for them to dry.  (The shoes, not my feet).  In spite of the chilly rain and mud, I would not have missed this experience.  Seize the day!

 

Rain

It seems that the rainy season has started.  Since we arrived in this country in June, it has been dry, dry, dry.  The area where we are posted is especially arid, and keeping a thick layer of dust from accumulating inside the house has been a continual challenge.

Now, though, the short rainy season is here.  (There are two--one in November and December, the other from March through May).  We've had occasional rain during the last week or so, but two days ago there was a real thunder-boomer Florida-summer-like rain in the afternoon, and our shoes were caked with mud after walking across campus.

That's because all of the paths are dirt, the campus quad is dirt, and the side roads are dirt.  Thus, the dust during the rest of the year.

So, last night it started to rain in earnest--hard, steady, and continuous.  I do believe it rained all night, and it is still raining this morning.  But, strangely, no water is coming from the tap in our house.  This does happen frequently, and then usually the school handyman adjusts valves and such and it comes back on.  But I am told that water supply interruptions happen more often in the rainy season because pipes break.  Poor infrastructure. 

(Yes, yes, I know I should be grateful that I have water piped to my house at all while serving here, and I am.  Many of our friends have to fetch water from elsewhere.  The Peace Corps is kind to older volunteers.)

(And, I am especially grateful that our little house has a good roof.  We have not seen any leaks.)

But we are prepared.  We have five 5-gallon buckets of water stored in our pantry, and another couple of gallons of already-boiled drinking  water, as well.  We were told from the beginning of our service that we would need to be patient and flexible.  It's the patient part that gives me trouble.