Under African Skies

Here is my new home.

Nestled in the foothills of the mighty Mount Meru, chez-Musson (postcode "Africa”) is a somewhat remote idyll tucked away in the small village of Usa River in northern Tanzania. Surrounded by lush greenery, banana and mango trees, a myriad of birds and a few cheeky monkeys, this really is remote African living. And it is so beautiful.

To walk out of my door each morning to the sound of birds and the warmth of sunshine and to close my door at night shrouded beneath the widest of star-studded skies brings a different feel to life. "Pole pole" is Swahili for “slowly does it” and there is a much slower pace of life out here. Suits me.

I arrived in my new life last Friday after the exquisite pleasures of a bus journey from Tanzania’s capital, Dar es Salaam, to Arusha. Told at the ticket counter that it would take about eight to ten hours, I was somewhat peeved when my cramped body was still jostling up and down upon the seat after fourteen hours of travel. Crammed into a seat built for hobbits, with legroom the size of a cup holder (see broken cup-holder below for evidence)

it really wasn’t fun. Add to that just one stop of fifteen minutes in the entire journey and you can imagine the intense pleasure that overcame me when we finally pulled into Arusha bus station in the darkness of Friday evening. When I eventually arrived at the school grounds I was in need of a new body. Luckily for me, a lovely fellow volunteer made me a cup of tea and a piece of toast and suddenly the world seemed good again.

St Jude’s school started out ten years ago with the aim of giving the very poorest students in the surrounding villages a quality education and a chance of moving out of the incessant poverty cycle that their families have been entrenched in for decades. It now houses 1643 children, all of whom come from impoverished backgrounds, living in mud huts or basic communal stone houses. As the number of children has grown, so too has the school, opening a new site in 2008 to house the secondary campus.

I spent my first weekend at Moshono, the original site (ex-banana plantation) where it all began. Green vegetation, fruit trees, pretty walkways and beautiful little classrooms scatter the site, with bright pictures and bold signs everywhere.

I particularly love the school buses that they have - each one boldly painted by Dixon, the art teacher, with a different African animal.

Being totally reliant on donors and sponsorship from around the world, the school was naturally delighted when an American entrepreneur offered to fund the building of a new secondary campus several years ago. From a large dining hall and four blocks of classrooms to a library and eleven boarding houses, the donation was vast. 

The sting in the tail, however, came with the design of the place. As the Smith family had such an investment in the new site, they also requested total control on the architectural planning of the school and thus there now exists what looks like an American high school in the depths of the Tanzanian countryside.

Smith Campus is housed some fifty minutes drive from Arusha in the foothills of the National Park. Removed from all the hustle and bustle of the town, it is a peaceful spot by the side of the Usa River.  And it is here that I moved on Sunday afternoon to find my new home.

Sharing a jolly yellow kitchen with eleven other teaching volunteers, I am housed in a peaceful new building at the edge of the school grounds.

Every volunteer has their own beautiful little room in the house – a quiet salvation away from the world when I need it.  Loving the African curtains!

The children all live at school in boarding houses (about five minutes walk from the volunteer house). That is part of the remarkable charitable set up: students are given food, clothing, housing and education from year one (aged five or six) up until they are eighteen.

The school really is astonishing. As a charity it is self-governed, but as it is not a private school it follows the Tanzanian National Curriculum (something I will lament about frequently during these posts as it is truly dire). Yet it is a selective school. They choose the very poorest of children but also the brightest. I was a little unsure as to how I felt about this selective process when I first heard about it, but in reality it makes sense, as these are the children most likely to make it out there in the competitive world. And the school is setting them up with the foundations for success.

Monday morning, 8.30am, I found myself sitting in the dining hall in a staff meeting: utterly bizarre and such a swift change of pace from where I've been and what I've been doing these past few months. The headmaster, Mr Rasul, greeted us all with a slightly uncertain speech then made each new staff member stand up and introduce themselves. I learned very early on this week that Tanzanians love the chance to speak to the public. There have been three occasions already this week where I have been given a microphone and asked to give a speech to a large audience.  Not just because I am new and a Mzungu (white girl) or because I have anything to say (believe me, I hadn't, but when you're suddenly announced to come up onto the stage in front of an audience of a few hundred, you quickly think of something snazzy to say!) but simply because that’s what everyone loves to do here: say their piece. And say it again and again and again!

The infrastructure of a school is all here – there are classrooms and tutor groups, a staff of local teachers, an office, Head of Departments and a management team. There's even a huge assembly hall, built to house seven hundred!

Yet in many ways it feels like children running a make-believe school as there is a general lack of real understanding as to how to really do it. I sat in a Head of Department meeting on my first day and was bemused at the fact that the first item on the agenda was “What shall we do if someone is late to the Head of Department meeting?” This inane discussion took fifteen, yes that’s fifteen minutes to resolve. It was then followed by “How shall we contribute any points to the meeting – hands up, shout out or bang on the table.” I joke not. Endearing, yes. But irrelevant, mildly comical and so very very long. I have to admit my attention wandered out the window fairly early on, where I amused myself watching a beautiful little blue bird skip around the grass with a giant dragonfly in its mouth. Much more entertaining.

As incredible as this school is (and it really is remarkable) the educational challenges are vast. So much emphasis has been put into raising money to build the school, to provide the facilities, to sponsor the children and to sponsor the teachers (as all of their wages comes from donations too) that it is only now that attention is able to be turned to the quality of education.  The charity is now asking for international teaching volunteers to join the community as teacher-mentors, training up staff to implement more enlightened systems within the Tanzanian curriculum and to give the children a quality education.

My role initially was to introduce a work experience and careers programme for the sixth form, as they currently do not exist. The school has not been running long enough as they add a new Year one class every year. However the very first students that started the school ten years ago are now sixteen and the new Form Fives (Lower 6^th) and so there is a need for career provisions. They have managed to employ a local teacher to run this facility in the school, and so my new role is to help set up the Sixth Form. One of the teachers, Revocatus Pharao Mwasambogo, has been promoted to Head of Sixth Form and is the man I will be working with; a fantastically keen young chap who has been teaching at St Jude's for two years and is full of enthusiasm.  He is incredibly diligent and keen, but a blank canvas when it comes to what a sixth form actually is or needs. The opportunities that exist in schools in the developed world are just non-existent over here. The majority of government schools that have Form 5 and 6 would simply run them as they would the rest of the school – basic lessons taught and homework given but nothing extra; no career guidance, no work experience, no study skills, no university guidance or support, no life skills or extra curricular opportunities. I have been asked to work with Revocatus to establish a Sixth Form programme to enable these students to apply for university places or good jobs in the local area.  So we plan to establish all of those opportunities that exist back home; opportunities that sadly the majority of children out here in Tanzania will never get a chance to have. An incredibly exciting, challenging job and one that I cannot wait to get my teeth into.

My first week at St Jude’s has been full on. From meeting the four hundred staff that work here, plus the children, to learning the systems and rituals, every day has been utterly exhausting. As have the nights, as a group of angry dogs live across the field and enjoy howling, barking and yelping at two hour intervals all night. Every night. Seems I am plagued by vocal, insomniac animals wherever I turn. Grr.

Highlight of the week? Tuesday morning. Myself and fellow new volunteer Monique, travelled over to the primary campus to sign a few documents about visas etc. and to meet some of the other staff. Whilst we were there, the new intake of this year's Year one children were being issued with their school uniform and welcomed into the school for the very first time. They are brought in with their parents en-mass and are fitted and kitted with their new school uniform; the final stage before starting school.

Sitting in one of the classrooms we suddenly heard a choir of small voices singing their way past the door. We wandered out to find one hundred and fifty little children marching along in their sparkling new uniforms towards a crowd of waiting parents, singing a Tanzanian children’s classic marching song (something along the lines of “I’m a little duck, here I march and quack…”) Random but utterly adorable.

The parents were all standing at the school gates, crying their eyes out. The children marched up to them, finished the song, then ran screaming into their parents’ arms. They were then lifted into arms and, en mass, all sang the National Anthem. Children were grinning from ear to ear, tears were streaming down parents’ faces (and my own) and joy filled the air. Just knowing what it means to have their children accepted into the school finally hits the parents on this day. Knowing that their child has been given a chance in life that they will never have; that their child will get three meals a day that they could never afford; that their child will be clothed and can leave behind their tattered rags; that they will be housed in warm buildings with a bed to sleep in and water to wash with. And will be taught with the aim of getting them a good job and a good life at the end of it. It really is a life-changing school, and seeing and feeling the impact of a place at St Jude’s on those families was an unforgettable moment.

The children here are remarkable and their dedication to study and self-development is simply overwhelming. Waking up at 5.30am each morning, they start the day with an hour’s study, followed by their chores; whether they be gardening, sweeping, cleaning or washing. As would be happening in their homes, each child is responsible for a particular chore within the house and so the traditions continue here. School begins at 8.20am and runs to 3.30pm. When they’ve had a break, they begin study again at 5pm, and again after dinner. Their diligence and strive for excellence is so remarkable, and it is so positive that they are being given a chance through this charity to make their future a better place. You really feel that hope working here. 

What else can I say for now? Well, I could write reams on life out here – a world apart from any I have ever lived. From the morning rituals of wiping dust off my face from the night’s wind that’s whipped dust through the windows, to walking through long grasses filled with birds and wildlife to get to school, to singing the Tanzanian national anthem each day with gusto (need to learn the words pronto) to watching incredible sunsets each night, every day is a blur of colour, smells, sounds and exciting experiences. The heart of Africa is warm and I feel more and more a part of life here as each day ticks by. I look forward to the challenges that lie ahead and the good times that I know will come with them. For now it is time to log off, walk outside and watch tonight's rain fall as the sun slowly bids farewell to another beautiful day in Tanzania.