Na Mifuko yangu je?

You have to know Swahili for this one, and have lived in Tanzania, and remember the time when plastic bags were scarce and a possession, not something you throw on the side of the road after the first use.

Up until about 5 years ago there used to be this old colonial lady in Arusha, called Mama Saska. She had a doctorate in something (I believe) and came from East Europe during colonial times. Any way she had to make a living after her husband died ages ago and did so by making floral arrangements for important meetings and weddings ( before Tanzanian women caught on). She drove this famous old car around, having bought it 50 years ago new.

She had this exotic garden with about every kind of flower and tree. I had fresh flowers to sell and she was one of my stops a couple of times per week. She always wanted my tuberose.

One day she told me this story.

She had two huge macadamia nut trees. As you might know Macadamia nuts are expensive. It was good money for her. It came a period when she was getting less nuts from the trees. She asked her assistant and the night watchman Paulo (name changed to protect the innocent) whether animals were eating them or something. Neither had any idea what was happening to them.

Then she noticed that in the evening there were a more on the ground than in the morning. So Mama Saska laid a trap. She decided to be outside when the night watchman Paulo left early in the morning, something she rarely witnessed.

The next morning she spied Paulo leaving with two big plastic bags with handles. (This was before the time of free plastic bags lying all over the place, given out free when you buy something in a shop.) She confronted Paulo as he reached the gate and demanded " what is in that bag?" Paulo had no option but to show her the contents, as she is a mzee, memsahib, and his boss.

Low and behold he had shelled the nuts, and sealed them in smaller clear plastic bags. Ready for sale. He probably had about 20,000shs worth of nuts bagged up. His salary at the time was 100shs per night.

Mama Saska was furious. Furious. As only a white memsahib can do, she berated Paulo, threatening to fire him, take him to the police , etc.

Poor Paulo had no recourse but to hand over the bags of nuts in the two big plastic bags. His lucrative side business was over.

But he had the balls in the end to say "Na mifuko wangu je?" (= what about my plastic bags, you got to give those back.)

(nb: I was going to correct that to "mifuko yangu" but I think he probably did say it the way I wrote it, certainly mama Saska said it wrongly, as I do most of the time.)

Moods

I am on the tail end of one of my moods. I have had them my whole life, but only the last 10 years or so did I realize moods/depression doesn't start because of external issues. It is just "mood swings". Chemical imbalances, whatever. I used to silently blame "the world", IE others during those periods for everything. A couple years ago they got really bad and frequent.

When these moods come I should simply get on my bike with a sleeping bag and ride for two days and turn around and come back home. As opposed to trying to keep going. I tend to just spin in circles during those times.

Politics as usual

It ain't enough just to campaign. Some people have to have anti-campaigns.

Here is a link to a site that is trying to "Rescuing America from the Radical Ideas of Hillary Clinton"
Go figure.

Picture of my brother's baptism in 1952

I found this picture last year while rummaging at my parents house after my mother's death. This story has two parts.

• I have been meaning to contact the second man from left, Dr. Hosea Macha. I picked up the picture because of him. (6 may 2007: there is now a whole story to tell about Hosea and his son Freddie.)
  
• After I had this picture in my hand I learned about the two other white people in the picture.

This picture was not in the two picture albums of their time in Tanganyika. It was loose in a box with pictures from all parts of the 20th century. I think it is a copy.

I know well the story of the man next to Dad (far right) , Dr Hosea Macha, being my brother Don's baptismal sponsor. He was then a medical student at Bumbuli Medical Assistant School, ten years before Tanganyika's independence. Don met Dr. Macha in 1970 on his first visit after HS graduation. This reunion was a good story as Don is 6ft 6 inches and Dr Macha announced to waiting patients that he held this kid at his baptism. The waiting patients had a good laugh. I have always been intrigued by this student that my father chose to be baptismal sponsor for his son, and have always asked other doctors where he is. So I put the picture aside (okay I stole it without permission).

A few days passed and I picked up the picture one morning and noticed the fine handwriting on the bottom and top of the picture. Mom could write very very small, she did this out of frugality. She didn't want to waste space or ink. I didn't even see the handwriting when I first stumbled on the picture.

If you have good eyes you can read the writing. If not click on the picture, or take my word for it.

The first name is Mrs Friberg. Huh! At first I think it is Dr. Steve Friberg's mother, then I realize it has to be his grandmother! Steve and his family are undoubtedly the family we are closest to as a whole family after Bernice's immediate family. So it took a generation to get back together it seems. I thought that was very cool and now the picture was definitely a keeper. I had no idea that my parents knew Steve's grandmother.
Below in the middle are Mrs Fribergs great grandchildren with their good friends and our neighbor.

A few days later and Don's sister in law Lori (and my friend since High School, and girlfriend in High School) comes around to check out the oak kitchen table. I show her the picture and explain how cool it is that 35 years later Steve and I meet without knowing of any previous family ties and become friends. I show her the small handwriting and Lori says "who is Pastor Cunningham?" I put on my reading glasses and sure enough the old white guy in the middle is another friend's grandfather! So I have a picture that ties two of my friends to another generation.

This is Pastor Cunningham's great granddaughter and her Dad.
And another great granddaughter Nasha.

A year later I noticed that Mom didn't put in one of the two student's names. I ponder the implications of that and came up with they were Dad's students and how could she remember the name. My siblings all know the name Hosea Macha. I know the name Hosea my whole life but not the Europeans in the picture. Sijui.

For fun here is a picture of my family 3 years or so before I was born, taken somewhere in the Usambara Mountains above the village of Bumbuli where Don was born.


And here is the letter mom wrote in 1953 after his birth.


Typical of my parents that my dad have mom administer her own anesthetic.

Book of the month

Once in awhile I read a book and call it a "keeper". That means that I want a hardcover copy and want to reread it every few years. This is not a loaner book, it is a "keeper".

"Into the Wild" by JON KRAKAUER, he is better known for Into Thin Air.

Steve Friberg loaned me the book on Monday saying it was not as good as Into Thin Air. I started it in bed that night and took it to work with me on Tuesday, I never take a book to work unless it is technical.

After I finished this book I woke up Erik Mdogo who was sick in bed and said "This is a keeper". He gave the book back to me the next day.

the American Academy of Arts and Letters says of this book "while his account of the life and death of Christopher McCandless, who died of starvation after challenging the Alaskan wilderness, delves even more deeply and disturbingly into the fascination of nature and the devastating effects of its lure on a young and curious mind."

I thought what the young man did was entirely normal. I just think he wasn't 100% prepared and took a big task. But then maybe I am not normal and that "lure" is still there.

I also started to remember how much I regretted settling down as early as I did, which wasn't all that early. Settling down was getting that first job that tied me down and set a precedent. An interesting and challenging and rewarding job.

Driving to work on Wednesday I vowed that I need to get out more regularly into wild places to renew my soul.

The Last of the Socialists

Am I the last of the socialists in Tanzania? Seems everyone else regrets that period. Those years were good ones for me.

I have issues with my salary as managing Director and shareholder.

People I admire

Periodically I am going to blog about people I know and admire, however I am going to start with two people I admire but don't know personally.

Nelson Mandella
I mean like the guy was in prison for 20+ years. And he comes out and talks about reconciliation with the regime that put him away! Secondly he stepped down from being President of SA. That rarely happens in Africa.
When George Bush traveled to South Africa a few years ago, Mandela decided to leave the country (in protest is how I interpreted it), even after Mr Bush made it clear he was coming and wanted to see Mandela. Mandela said something like, I have nothing to say to you until you stop this invasion of other countries, like Iraq.
And when Brenda Fassie was singing at the Kora Music Awards about 3 years ago, he is in the audience, and Brenda sings and skips down to him. He was so cool.



Jimmy Carter
I mean the guy is simply a plain decent guy. What was he thinking going to Washington as President? For his inauguration parade he walks. He walks with his family. Think about it. Then in the white house he decides that they should put in some solar energy, so he converts 30% to using solar. Cool. (Of course Regan removed it.) Now this guy is my kind of guy.

He is involved in Habitat for Humanity and is always trying to bring world peace. He has the guts to say what Palestine Refugee camps are concentration camps.