"Nitarudi" I said, and return I did!

We arrived in Kigoma at long last! We experienced the bustle of the big city, the tourist trap of Zanzibar, Indian Ocean and a lot of surface interactions – but now we are here. We are here – where relationships with the people I know are real and deep.

Lucas, my friend and partner in Project Wezesha, greeted us at the airport and escorted us up to the place I’ll call home this month. We enjoyed some introductions, catch up conversation, important updates and the glorious view of Lake Tanganyika. Hadley was psyched to finally meet the young man I’ve been referencing all these months leading up to this trip. Of course he won Laura and Hadley over instantly with his smile. They could feel what I feel – Lucas is awesome. He’s trustworthy, gentle, kind, protective, funny and sharp.

After cooling off a bit and chatting above the treetops, we eased our way into Kigoma town for a little recon of the area. Kigoma had some changes that were exciting for me – such as a new place to eat and some new dala dalas (the transport minibuses) – ahh, the simple pleasures. There were also so great developments for the community, such as a huge new power station to replace the old one that often left the town without power randomly every day. The new station was installed by a German company and it is celebrated by Kigoma.

On the flip side, much is the same. People are far more interested in us here than in Dar. Especially the children. They migrate to our side of the street many meters ahead of us so that by the time we’re passing they can get a good look and at the very last possible minute throw a shy “Good morning madam” our way only to cover their mouths, suppressing smiles and giggles as they run off in their flip flops to talk about how brave they had been … or how funny we look with our red cheeks and hairy arms. As we make our way through town, we are inevitably walking quicker than most. We pass everyone – from the old man in tattered clothes leaning over his big walking stick, barefoot and donning an old fedora to the three weathered women, kangas tied around their wastes, small loads on their heads, laughing to one another in their conversation until our passage silences them temporarily – only to resume as soon as we’re out of earshot. Of course, Lucas greets folks along the way – laughs at some comments about his new friends, the ‘wazungu’ (white folks).

There have been some changes that I’ve noticed – so small and insignificant that Lucas laughs when I ask about them. For example, the women who sell small fish from plastic basins along the side of the road – all huddled together in a rainbow of kangas and scarves, squatting next to their basins, all in flip flops and chomping on sugar cane – well, they’ve moved up the road and to the other side. After seeing them in the same place, day after day for the past two years, this was notable to me. Lucas said they decided to move closer to the market where people are already in buying mode. Of course, why didn’t they think of that two years ago or sooner …. who knows, but they did it now and they seem content.

The other small change was the metal manipulators. There is a big group of men who sat under a group of trees hammering away at various metal sources – pots, pans, cans, car parts – shaping them into new materials such as lanterns, new pots, new car parts, bike parts, etc. It’s always struck me as so resourceful the way they reshape old metal in such a rudimentary fashion for reuse in important and helpful ways. Well, they have moved. Their absence was almost disappointing to me and I was comforted to know they hadn’t quick their trade but simply moved closer to the metal section of the Mwanga market (pictured below). Why didn’t they think of that two years ago or sooner … who knows, but …

Ahh… pressures of traveling with others, needing to visit the village and children (today!) and slow computers have all put a stall mode on my blogging … but I’ll catch up soon with pics to fill in old and new gaps. Until then, we’re off to Kiganza to see the children that I miss so much! Kwaheri!