It is easy to become mired in pity when addressing the huge obstacles facing people with albinism in Tanzania.  You see children with terrible sores, some abandoned by their families, and struggling in classrooms that are ill-equipped to meet their needs.  Pity is an understandable reaction, but it is ineffective and misguided.   Pity is a wall that stops us from relating to others as fellow humans.

When your immediate response is framed by pity, you separate yourself from the other person and look to an immediate solution.  Donate some money, and hope it goes well.  When you look past the pity and see the person instead, you start to think in terms of positive solutions.  This perspective also helps to create a bridge of understanding, which increases our connectedness as human beings.

I saw some very pitiful things in Tanzania last week, and felt very depressed about the prospects of many of these children.  In that frame of mind, I missed the fact that these kids are actually in school, working every day with what they have to move forward.  We must focus on moving them forward, rather than getting stuck on where they are right now.

Thanks to Mama Hope for helping me reframe my response:
http://www.mamahope.org/unlock-potential/why-stop-the-pity/

As a newcomer to the world of African development, I have a lot to learn. Practically a continent’s worth. One of the best lessons I’ve learned so far is to stop giving people fish. It’s an old parable, but it is more true now than ever in this world of rubber bracelet advocacy.

Every hat, pair of shoes and cast-off T-shirt from that 5k you ran that you send to Tanzania (while well-intentioned) takes away from someone there trying to create or sustain a cottage industry. There are important and understandable exceptions, particularly for items unavailable or too expensive for local production. But in every village we passed through, I saw markets full of shoes and donated western clothes, alongside locally made items. Tailoring is a good job in Tanzania, and it is better to support these efforts than to send our old clothes. Vocational skills will cloth someone for a lifetime.

So, we’ll stop gathering hats and sun protective clothing for people with albinism in Tanzania.  Instead, we’ll raise funds to purchase the items locally, which will support individual businesses and hopefully limit the number of times a Tanzanian boy will be found wearing pink “I Love Hannah Montana” t-shirt.

There is one big exception, at least for now: the Kabanga School. No one there has the money for clothes, and they all need them. So, for now, we’ll keep bringing the fish. But we’re working on the poles.

Planting trees is serious business in Tanzania. You are required to plant a certain number of new trees on every construction site, and we dutifully complied on Mariamu’s land, under the supervision of the district land officer. We had seven small trees (called ‘joholo’) and were hacking out holes in the dry ground with the aforementioned Mbola woman’s hoe when we noticed we had an audience. An old man and a young boy were watching us intently while their goats munched away on the thorny brush. Someone joked that the goats were just waiting for us to leave so that they could mow down the new trees. The land officer called the old man over, and pointing at the trees, he said “You see these trees? We will watch them, and if even one tree dies – you will die, too.” The man nodded seriously and walked back over to his goats. All of this transpired in Kiswahili, so I was clueless until we got back in the land rover and the team translated for me, with lots of laughter.

I felt kind of bad for the goat herd – there’s a drought in the area – and I can imagine him worrying about the trees and his own fate. Luckily, the land officer arranged for a local worker to water the trees. I hope someone tells the goat herd……
Pictured above: Young goat herd; land officer and Mariamu watching me plant a tree

I had an amazing day, and wish I could post pictures.  We visited the land where Mariamu’s house will be built, and planted several trees. We had to borrow a hoe from a Mbola woman who was working two fields away…it was crazy. She said she had never seen a ‘mzungu’ before. Mariamu’s land is on a plain in between Mount Meru and Mount Kilimanjaro, it is wild and open and beautiful. There are no houses here, but in one year, there should be a small town. Afer we planted the trees, we sang and danced in the sunshine. It was moving and beautiful.

Mariamu and I decided to climb Mount Kilimanjaro in four years…..anyone want to join us? 😉

I also met with the doctors from the dermatology clinic, and am hoping we can work together… They also gave me enough bucket hats for the kids at Kabanga, and would have given me sunscreen, but I had no room.

Off to Kabanga tomorrow, where our toughest work will be. I will probably not be able to post from there, so I will sign off with love from Tanzania.
Lala salama,
Susan.

Our second day was spent visiting the Mukidoma School, a private school with over 400 students, 64 of whom have albinism. The children seem well cared for, but they were so withdrawn and sad that it broke my heart. They smiled reluctantly, and when they did, it was without joy. Only when some of the boys began to sing did the children warm up. Afterwards, a nineteen year old girl named Elizabeth came up to me and asked for my address. She wants to be a dermatologist someday, and wants to write to me so that I wouldn’t forget her. As if.

I celebrated St. Patrick’s Day with chicken masala and Tusker beer in Moshi, Kilimanjaro. It’s a small world.

Today we head to the Mukidoma School to visit 5 students that we sponsor…. And hopefully, my luggage will arrive!

I traveled with the Under the Same Sun team today to visit with Mariamu. It was amazing to catch up with her and see her progress. When we arrived, she was working on the computer at the school, as she has decided to learn it before graduating in November. That is the kind of amazing spirit she displays.
She has a good life at the school, and her son Nio is flourishing. He was very shy when we met, but I put that down to my strange appearance and funny hair.

Her is a picture of Mariamu working at the knitting machines:

This is the trip of a lifetime for me, and I wouldn’t be going with the inspiration of Mariamu and my children, the help from my friends and family, and the love and support from my wonderful husband.  Lots of love to you all, and I leave with a grateful heart.

Here is a snap of Katy making English-Swahili flashcards for the kids at Kabanga…

So, I am literally hours away from getting on a plane when the principal at my daughter’s elementary school asks me if I want to take an iPad with me to capture the trip…. !!!!  I was able to video a greeting from Katy’s class to the students at Kabanga….priceless.

Twenty minutes ago, while shoving even more aspirin into my luggage, there’s a knock on the door.  Seven boxes from the Texas Lion’s Club, with 100 magnifiers for the visually impaired students!!!!
Now I have to take another seven pounds out of my luggage…. I can just wash my clothes over and over, right?

If these are karmic signals about how the trip is going to go, I think it’s going to be amazing.

I leave for Tanzania tomorrow.  I visited the Embassy yesterday to pick up my visa – and I felt like a kid at Christmas.  Never mind that this Christmas features malaria pills, water filters and mosquito netting – I couldn’t be more excited.

My bags are packed: three pounds of clothing for me and 97 pounds of hats, sunglasses, school supplies, cotton balls, bandages, sunscreen, pens, pencils, papers – and an English/Swahili dictionary.  I can’t wait to get to the Kabanga School!