*Mzungu tena

My residence for the first week, right next to the coast in Mtwara.  Unfortunately Week II has mostly been spent in an air-conditioned office, with the smell of chicken poo fertiliser wafting in from outside - reminded me of home.

I am back in the land of the Wabongo - blessed Tanzania, as my hosts and many of the country’s Christian population would say.  Apart from a 12 hour escapade 7 years ago, most of which was spent on a bus not really knowing what was going on (not much new there then), I’ve not been for over a decade.  I spent seven, mostly very happy months here on my gap yaarr.  Oh, and got malariaaah (but didn’t chunder everywhaaar, unlike my unfortunate friend).

A pretty good Government built road and a nice big tree.

I’ve come back for just under a month to volunteer for the NGO that my Tanzanian friend, Hilda (whom I lived with back in 2003 in the village of Mangalali, close to Iringa), works for.  It’s called the Tanzania Association of Environmental Engineers.  Despite only knowing about half of the sector, Hilda has been asking for help for a while, and the opportunity to lend it came with the end of my current contract and the unlikelihood of an extension.  A few days later, after I’d pitched the idea to Hilda and the excited emails were flowing in, my contract got extended.  Oops.  Thankfully, after a glass of fine wine, my good boss excused me for a month anyway.  Lucky Lyd.

So, here I am.  I’m becoming comfortable with persistent beads/torrents of sweat, loving cassava for breakfast, dealing with discerning stares whilst running in the morning, and loving when a smile happens instead, filling in the many gaps in my Kiswahili language skills, pole pole, and generally welcoming a sunny, green change of scene from a London November. 

I’ve got a few blogs brewing about the work I’m attempting to help TAEEs with, which I will post on here soon.

Na sasa, usiku mwema.

(And now, good night.)

*No need to explain this if you’re a white European that’s visited anywhere in East Africa, but for those who haven’t, it means European and is mostly heard from the other side of the road, originating from a very little excited person with a high pitched scream, jumping up and down.  Mbongo is the less exhausted word for a native Tanzanian.