Week 6 and few more days

The past week has been filled with drama, sadness and excitement.  There would not be anyway to describe it.  Here in Moshi, things don’t move very quickly (thank goodness) but you find, as I have reported in the past, that many things actually go on around you almost too much to take in.

We learned 2 weeks ago that our biggest research projects in both Moshi and Duke were not to be refunded.  This has been an enormous blow to us all, one that has kept us up for many nights on end.  First, I am processing the enormity of it, trying not to feel that it is my personal fault that I potentially could have done better in some way yet feeling a loss almost like a gigantic loss of life.  Then, suddenly it hits you that not only are you losing the projects, but also it hits you that many people, good, hard working people will lose their jobs because of this decision.  And then you think immediately about the research participants both current and those who were ready to enroll in studies and you cry.  And finally, you think about the community in which you have been working and how your community volunteers have steadfastly attended meetings, strategized on how they can educate the community about research, and how they have a personal commitment to the ongoing activities of the project.  I am still grappling with it all.  I want to be gracious, but it is definitely not easy.  What sustains me are the staff who constantly ask how we are doing, what can they do to help, and who remind me, “we have had ups and downs before, we can make it through.” I suspect that there is much more anxiety about their future in their minds, but they are not telling me that, and for that I am touched and moved.

In the meantime, our Youth CAB here in Moshi continues to amaze me.  Yet another meeting has gone by and undaunted by the harsh news, they make plans for a seminar, talk about the issues of stigma and disclosure, and the importance of research. At the same time they are really bonding with one another. 

This week's meeting Youth CAB

This week's group discussion with John K

Our awesome facilitator John K

Prisca...give her a challenge and she grabs it!

My dear friend in Moshi (fellow social worker) lost her mother to a stroke this week.  This little lady was an amazing woman.  She managed to have 8 children and when she died had 14 grandchildren.  She kept meticulous records of her life, the ups and downs.  While she had health problems, she was very busy.  She took in children of family members who were unable to care for them, without a thought for how much it might cost her.  These young folks expressed their gratitude by helping in the house and farm, and thanking her and her husband for their kindness and begging her to not send them away.  Of course she did not.  All her neighbors knew her as a wonderful person who helped them in time of need.  About 300 people walking into the compound and showing their appreciation for her life underscored this love.  I had experienced her love and caring just under a year ago when I visited her home with my girlfriend.  I arrive with a small gift, and come home overwhelmed not only with the hospitality of her mother and youngest daughter (a fabulous farmer) but with vegetables, kanga, basket, pocket book, and love.  Wow. 

Mama Urasa with my Dear Agnes and her daughter, sister and nephews

Though the day of the burial was long and hot, my heart was full.  I thought a lot about my own mother and what her loss continues to mean to me.  I had brought some handkerchiefs to Moshi that she had always used, thinking that they might be good to wipe sweat off my face in the hot African summer.  There I was with this very delicate handkerchief in my hand thinking about both Agnes’ mother and mine. 

 

talking about mother

House compound and funeral procession

Lydia me & Bona

Roses for the funeral

 

grave of Mama Urasa

 I thought how they were much more alike than different, both strong and opinionated, sometimes a bit harsh in our raising, but ready to listen to ideas, and definitely go “to bat” for their children and grandchildren…loyal to the end.  I thought about how my mother never differentiated between the grandchildren born to her children versus those who came into her life through marriage.  And I thought about how she is always somewhere around in my brain, continuing to give me advice (and criticism).  As I passed this on to my friend and her husband, they just nodded agreement and seemed happy to think that this might happen to them, too.

Mother and grandchildren

Chrissy and I have done a little singing at church, and she much more in Arusha and at the church.  It is wonderful to have her here in Moshi while we are here. We continuously fight….nothing has changed.  We had a disastrous day at one of the local sewing ladies places.  She had purchased fabric and was having a dress made that apparently has turned out so badly that she won’t even show it to me.  I also had one made that turned out so badly that I clearly looked 8 months pregnant (oops how can that happen to me with my 64+ years showing every day). But the miracle was that I managed to find my old sewing lady.  (she is really young actually). She doesn’t live in Moshi anymore but she came to town by Dala Dala we found a place to try on the disaster, she found a sewing machine where the dress could be fixed.  We made several deals and one way or the other mending and sewing will be done.  Miracles do seem to happen here.

So at the end of the day this week, we have had 3 big rains, mild temperatures, green coming up so fast I can hardly believe it, and that wonderful fresh smell.  My My.  “on on”. 

A brilliant mountain--New snow and lots of it

The renewal--a wedding!