Notes from the Field 2009

By Katarina Grande
Tanzania

I spent the day helping out with an English class at PeaceHouse. As I wandered about the classroom, I was cheerfully greeted by the students, "You are welcome!" and promptly bombarded with questions. "What do you like about Tanzania?" [Everything! the people, the food, the environment!]. "Why did Michael Jackson want to become white?" [Michael Jackson had a skin problem where his skin was many different shades, he was just trying to fix it.] "Can I study both accounting and science?" [I don't see why not! Go for it!] "What causes muscle cramps?" [A buildup of lactic acid in your muscles. I mean, an imbalance of chemicals in your body. Be sure to stretch and drink lots of water prior to exercising]. "Why can girls get pregnant but not boys?" [Girls have different body parts that allow them to be pregnant. You'll learn more about this in Life Skills class.] "Does the U.S. have a prime minister in addition to a president?" [Nope. Obama is our president. We have congresspeople and senators as well--have you learned about these branches of American government?] "What color of skin do people have where you come from?" [All different colors!] "Your skin is like an albino Tanzanian!" [Yup!] "Do you speak Swahili?" [I'm trying to learn!] "What is New York City like? [Big, full of lights, exciting]. "Do you hand wash your clothes?" [Sometimes, but I also use a washing machine.]

This press conference-like atmosphere lasted all class. I tried to sneak in a question here and there--what is important to you? [Education! Food!] What are your hobbies? [Soccer!] etc. Next, I attended volleyball club, which was a lot of fun. These students are such great kids; I wish I had more time here to get to know them better.

Posted at 8:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Katarina Grande
Tanzania

"I feel good about this--I think she'll let us summit," Frank says, gazing up at the glacier atop Mount Kilimanjaro. We've been hiking for four days; three of them above the clouds. The vegetation has changed from rain forest to moorland to alpine desert. During the day, the equatorial sun beats down in potent UV rays--during the night, the air is frigid. Everything--everything--is coated in mountain dust. Everyone is filthy, coughing chronically from the dry air, peeing constantly from the diarrhetic altitude medication Diamox, and radiating heat from sunburns...and loving every minute of it. The trek has been brilliant, the views comparable to medieval art depicting heaven.

The team will, pending injury or pulmonary edema, summit in less than 48 hours. It won't be a problem for the Scandinavian men on our climbing team--Frank, the bearded Norwegian explorer quite naturally stepping out of the frame of a National Geographic cover and onto the mountain. His adventure buddy, Daniel, a Swede enthusiasti ally referred to as "Supertall" by the porters, is constantly pausing to take photographs with his giant-lensed camera, yet never lags behind the group. Then there's Tammy, the big-hearted aunt of Amber; on the hike because "Amber made her." I'm the 5th team member and climbing Kili because it's a great personal challenge and a way to see gorgeous views of Tanzania. Somehow, these mountain experts--next up is Everest--and the three women make a good team.

We begin the trek wandering through the mountain rain forest, chatting about randomness and playing the Mountain Mens' favorite hiking game. We wonder where our guide--an expressionless Tanzanian man named Crispin was. Hakuna matata, we mutter, and forge on down the well-traveled path. The Mountain Men set the pace--a very slow and steady pace. Step. Step. Step. I had never hiked at such a slow pace but I begin to understand the logic. Groups that had zoomed past us hours ago were leaning against trees, wiping sweat from their faces, as we steadily march upward. We continue this processional through the next two days.

Today, Barafu Wall requires us to pack up the hiking poles and grasp rock hand grips as we scramble upward. Careful not to slip on ice-coated footholds or fall into glacial streams, we meander our way up the wall. I love the variation in the hiking--both scenery and style. The pretty, resilient little mountain flowers, the mist from clouds rolling into valleys, the trees that look like giant pineapples...and of course, the ever-present, majestic views of Kili's summit.

As grandiose and wonderful as this experience is, there is a dark side--the situation of the porters. These underpaid, underappreciated men carry the mzungo (I'm one of them) luggage: backpack, sleeping bag, sleeping pad, clothes, etc. plus the items for each campsite--tents, food, dishes, cooking utensils, pots, pans, lawn chairs--heavy, heavy stuff. And, unlike the mzungos wheezing their way up the rocks, the porters don't have camelbacks, hiking poles, microfiber long underwear, polarized sunglasses. The just put the heavy packs on their heads and scramble through the rocks. Do they like the job? It's probably good to have a job...but ouch, this one comes with a lot of pain. The dozen or so people that die on the mountain each year? Porters, mostly. But to get the more lucrative position of Guide or Assistant Guide, one must prove himself as a porter. Crispin did ten years. Yesterday, when one porter was feeling sick, the guides just were annoyed. It's a rough situation.

July 11, 2009
Unable to sleep, I sit up, alert in the freezing tent as my watch alarm beeps 11pm. It is time to begin the nightlong ascent to the summit. I layer clothing like crazy, switch on the headlamp, and join the group. The Mountain Men look prepared in their high-tech gear. Amber and Tammy toss in a few extra pieces of candy into their packs. I'm nervous--I feel like I was about to enter some sort of Viking battle. We quickly drink some tea and set off. The hill is steep, the footing rocky. I fix my gaze on Crispin's hot pink gaiters to keep pace.

Step. Step. Step. It gets colder. I grab the straw of my Camelback but it's now solid ice. No water. I start worrying about altitude sickness--or worse. But the worries drift like clouds through my exhausted body. It's 2am--our pole pole (pole-ay, pole-ay: "slowly") pace seems to be speeding up--we keep passing pale-faced hikers leaning on rocks for support. Breathing is a challenge: the 50% oxygen level, the arctic air, the physical exertion. I just want to rest...just for a second. But we continue. The usually chatty group is silent as the moonlight illuminates the glaciers above. Step. Step. Step. Just keep walking. My thoughts weave together with my mind radio. "Jump Around" pops into my mental playlist. Hours pass and Crispin pauses at the top of a ridge, his arms outstretched. "Congratulations, you've reached Stella Point," he says. Great, I think, but it's not the summit. I sit on a rock. Frank lends me his giant down parka. I want to take a nap, but it's time to continue to Uhuru Peak--the highest point in Africa.

I shuffle back into the rhythm. To the left is a beautiful, magnificent, blue-tinted glacier. "Wow," I whisper aloud (and then spend the next few minutes catching my breath). The ice looks so majestic--intimidating and peaceful at the same time. It's like seeing the night sky in a really dark place for the first time--the stars are a bit overwhelming. The team makes it to to the famous Uhuru Peak summit sign. However, we had ascended so fast that our summit didn't coincide with the sunrise as planned. We take celebratory photos in the dark and manage to convey, "Congratulations!" to each other through garbled, oxygen-deprived speech.

Posted at 11:23 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Katarina Grande
Tanzania

June 28-July 5
Sorry I've been MIA from the blogosphere--internet is supertough to access, awesomely slow, and punctuated with power outages.

I'm now at PeaceHouse near Arusha. The name is perfect--the front door opens to a view of Mount Meru, Kilimanjaro's shorter sister. The school's campus is beautiful and all is peaceful. Students in maroon and khaki uniforms speckle the campus.

I've learned a lot this week. The research team has been visiting NGOs and Governmental Organizations, learning what public health problems are being tackled and where holes remain. As this project will run for 3 years, it is essential that we understand the situation and structure of current organizations so that we are not replicating someone else's work. This type of project is a bit more challenging than jumping into a well-defined, structured project like building a well for a week. Sometimes I wish I could do something more concrete, but this is a necessary first step; laying the groundwork for future years' projects. Plus, I get to learn about so many different areas of public health this way. I feel like I'm learning about Tanzania on a deeper level as well. Much of this is from speaking with organizations, but even more is from speaking to Tanzanians. It's been so excellent to have the three Tanzanian students as teammates. Not only because their Swahili is a bit more fluent than mine (ha!), but because they are always so patient and willing to answer my rapid-fire questions about life, culture, and issues in Tanzania. I've discussed the HIV epidemic with Davina and why marriage is a risk factor for contracting the virus. I've learned about Tanzanian history from Damson, the country's story of peaceful independence. I've discussed biofuels, indoor air pollution, and renewable energy in villages with Joel. These smart, interesting colleagues have really enriched the team.

We've met with about a dozen organizations and visited a handful of village communities thus far. Here are some insights:

Kakute Limited is housed in a small structure made of low-cost, local materials--mud, wood. We step out of the winter rain into the shelter of this NGO. It's early i the morning. Our host is off to Kenya in a few hours. There, he'll be traveling from village to village to study the limiting factors of the jatropha plant. He welcomes the six of us and dives into the history of his organization. Since 1995, he's been working to bring appropriate technology to rural communities. The recurring themes emerge--there's a need for such technology in water, sanitation, renewable energy, low-cost housing, and agricultural development. The rural setting brings limitations with it: market accessibility, regulatory issues, policy problems, financial constraints, and a lack of infrastructure. Kakute's current focus: promoting the use of the jatropha plant for oil and other products. Extension officers visit villagers, identify an entrepreneur interested in utilizing the technology, and then move to another village.

CAMARTEC (Center for Agricultural Mechanization and Rural Technology) is a governmental organization under the Department of Trade. Similarly, its mission is to develop and disseminate technologies to rural areas to make villagers' lives better. We traveled with an extension officer into a village to see such technologies in action. First, we visited a potter's village where a potter makes liners (photos will help; I'll post when possible) to improve the efficiency of fire-powered stoves. He is teaching groups of village women how to make these liners as well.

Next, we visited a school with an extensive rainwater harvesting system. The system provides enough water for cleaning, drinking, and watering vegetables. The students no longer need to fetch water via walking along the dangerous road. A farmer monitors the performance of the system and is now teaching others how to construct the systems.

Another technology supported by CAMARTEC is renewable energy. Mama Gladness, an entrepreneurial woman in a village saw the technology presented at a fair and requested an introduction to the biogas system for her own home. The system is quite neat. Excrement from her cows is collected daily and directed into a chamber. Here, gas is produced and piped into a system feeding her home's power needs. The sludge is then diverted into a collecting area and used as fertilizer. Mama Gladness has since become a community organizer and has been promoting the technology across villages.

Food, Water, Shelter
This new organization, formed a few years ago by 5 Australian women, is fantastic. It tackles many of Tanzania's public health issues via an "eco-friendly, early learning, children's village"--basically a place for AIDS orphans to be united with single mothers (house mamas) and live in a self-sustaining community while receiving primary and technical education.

The campus utilizes "humanure," a product of composting toilets. Every bit of waste is used efficiently--the urine supplies the nitrogen-loving banana trees with nutrients, the feces/sawdust mixture feeds fruit trees. If something in the system should go wrong, i.e. create an anaerobic situation, there's a backup biogas system. Oh yes, biogas from the cows is also used to power the complex's kitchen.

Under each building there are tanks and tanks used to collect rainwater. Solar pumps push the water to the top, which provides 20 liters of water per person per day. Enough rainwater is collected to sustain the campus year-round, even though it only rains a few times each year. They've built an underground aquifer out of tires to store additional water and slow rainwater runoff.

There's a fish pond and a carefully organized organic garden. Banana trees fix nitrogen for neighboring bean trees. A garlic and chili mixture is sprayed on the plants to get rid of aphids.

Some of these hippie ideas were certainly met with eye-rolling by the Tanzanians, the girls noted. While they were digging trenches to plant organic crops, villagers noted they were "digging crop graves." However, as their systems began functioning as planned, community members noticed and became excited to implement the technologies in their own homes.

Posted at 11:17 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Katarina Grande
Tanzania

The team, along with its newest members Joel and Dasu journeyed to Arusha in northern Tanzania today. And what a journey. We woke up at 5:30 in the morning, crammed supersized backpacks and squished people into two cars, and entered to the zoo of the bus depot. The air, clouded with diesel exhaust and enveloped in noise added to the chaotic atmosphere. People were selling things everywhere. The bus stairs were so small and steep that I had to crawl onto the large bus. Eventually we departed, the morning sun already magnifying us through the glass windows like little ants. Our red faces dripped with sweat while the Tanzanians looked relaxed. I rationed my water to prevent my ridiculously small bladder from having to pee for the next twelve hours--there weren't really and rest stops or bathrooms at which to pause every hour like I usually require on road trips. Not to say the bus didn't stop. It did, in seemingly every tiny village on the way from Dar to Arusha. Approaching these villages half-sleeping, I would be jolted awake by people banging on the outside of the bus, shouting for us to buy their goods raised to the level of the bus windows. Towers of oranges, eggs, bananas, juice, soda, candybars, clothes, bread--it was, in an unconventional sort of way, like the food cart on airplanes.

At the one actual stop on the trek, Robyn and I tried to purchase two bananas, but, when presented with the 4000 Tsh price tag (a bit less than 4 USD), we declined; our bartering price was not accepted. We boarded the bus again. The scenery was breathtaking and every-changing. Each village's huts were slightly different--thatched roofs, tin roofs, grass roofs, no roofs, brick, stone, straw. The climate changed rapidly from mountainous, lush, jungle to arid, dry plains and back again. Children waved at the lumbering bus, other villagers ignored them, uninterested. Some villages rested in shade, while most were hard at work--lugging water jugs, harvesting plants from fields, repairing bicycles, laundering clothes. I felt a little voyeuristic, peering into these peoples' lives from the bus window, even briefly. All the sights were fascinating; I couldn't look away. I wondered what the Tanzanians would think, riding on a Greyhound bus through America. I learned a lot from this twelve-hour glance of Tanzania. Once darkness set in and the educational window slideshow ended, I was more than ready for the unceasingly bumpy ride to be over. I felt like a microwave popcorn kernel--hot, greasy, jostled. We asked the Tanzanian teammates if they were overstimulated by the day; they said, "no way!" and laughed.

Posted at 1:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

By Katarina Grande
Tanzania

Today we ("we"= the research team: Robyn, myself, and the Michigan Tech folks: Paddy, Bryna, Jared, Bryna, Professor Kurt Paterson, and Professor David Watkins) worked out the logistics of our collaboration with the University of Dar Es Salaam. We went on a tour of the university, including a detailed description of each instrument in every lab. It was especially interesting to see the water resources lab and the research being done on biofuels. Much of the research being conducted at the university is very public health-based--how to improve sanitation, wastewater treatment facilities, and alternative fuels. I learned about the jatropha plant, which produces coffee-like beans that are very efficient in terms of energy use, plus it grows well in arid regions like Tanzania.

One of the U of Dar students on our team, Leonard Dasu, has researched how to extract oil from this bean. While he was conducting this research, oil prices skyrocketed worldwide. So, he presented the technology to farmers at the annual fair in Arusha (where we're headed next to begin our project). This fair is held to recognize the national holiday of NaneNane (nah-nay nah-nay), a celebration of agriculture. Farmers were quite interested in Dasu's work and the possibilities of a lucrative new crop. Since then, oil prices have dropped and interest has waned a bit...but surely this will remain an important biofuel technology of the future.

Posted at 1:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

June 25, 2009
Today we worked out some logistics of the collaboration with the University of Dar Es Salaam. We went on a tour of the university, including a detailed desciption of each instrument in every lab. It was interesting to see the water resources lab as well as the research being done on biofuels. I learned about the jatropha plant, which produces beans that look like coffee that are very efficient in terms of energy use, plus it grows well in arid regions like Tanzania. I recognized much of the lab equipment, including a rather new GC/MS (for the non-dorks reading this, that's a machine that basically determines the chemical components of a solution)...however, the university can't use this very useful machine because the power supply isn't constant enough to appropriately power the machine. We met the students who will be spending the next few weeks at PeaceHouse near Arusha with the group; they're all wonderfully nice.

Posted at 11:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

June 24 2009
Karibu! "Welcome!" I'm here in Dar Es Salaam -Tanzania's largest city. The drive from the airport to a hotel--the group's first stop--is relatively wild. After two overnight flights and a seven-hour layover in London, Robyn and I are greeted by Wilford and Professor Kimambo of the University of Dar Es Salaam. We squeeze into an old Toyota truck, my leg propped up on the dashboard so Wilford can shift. We enter the city. Though early in the morning, Dar is wide awake under the intense winter sun. We pass women carrying buckets on their heads, children lugging gasoline jugs full of water. The daladala buses roll by, absolutely packed with people. In this city, perhaps most cities in Tanzania from what people say, traffic laws are optional. The roads are chaotic, but at the same time people are cordial. Where turning around in the middle of the road would be greeted by X@!%@ in America, here, people motion that there's enough room to move. People walk among the cars, often pointing at us shouting the classic slang white person announcement. There is a deep culvert in the middle of pothole-stricken road. No curb or safety gate lines this deep pit. Smoke spews from diesel trucks and nearby fires. Hello, environmental public health!

The road construction prompts a traffic jam--I'm definitely used to this since Minneapolis is perpetually under construction...but there wasn't any order to this jam. Ultimately, after maybe an hour of sitting, Wilford hauls the truck over a foot-tall curb and heads down a side street. Everything I've been studying about Dharavi (the largest slum in Mumbai, India) is illustrated along this street--people living in hutments, small businesses based in such shacks, trash, poverty, and yet, amidst it all, happy people. We arrive at our destination. The hotel ladies bring Robyn and I passionfruit juice, with ice. The guidebooks' first rule: never drink anything with ice if you're not certain of its source water. Not wanting to be rude, I down the delicious juice. I read the English newspaper Professor Kimambo bought from a road vendor while in the traffic jam. The paper was full of public health--the AIDS battle, malaria problems, and an interesting article about how aid to Africa is ruining the continent and its livelihood. I am conscious of this and don't want to come here to "fix a problem" and then head out. Solutions really need to be largely community-driven--this is where public health and engineering become catalysts.

That evening, Professor Kimambo picks up the group to get some food. He brings along his sassy 6-year-old daughter, Joy. Her front teeth were missing because "rabbits and rats stole them." She goes to an English-language school and is flawlessly fluent in English as well as Swahili. Since kids tend to befriend me, we quickly became hand-holding best pals. Wise beyond her age, Joy teaches me some Swahili. The first phrase that she thinks of translates to "when you go to bed, you wear your mosquito net." Shortly thereafter, eyeing the groups' Kilimanjaro and Safari bottles of beer, she proves us with the word for "drunk person." We spend the rest of dinner quizzing Joy on multiplication facts and spelling--she's a much better speller than I. She braided my hair in a groovy 1980s-style updo. We had a great time.

More later. Sorry about the lack of photos.

Posted at 10:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

We are advised to write our intro blog while packing. Well, that doesn't exactly fit into my just-in-time, panic-driven packing methodology. So, I'll write this entry now, about 22 hours before my flight leaves for Tanzania.

I'm an Environmental Health student in the UMN School of Public Health interested in global health, especially water issues related to health. I just finished a marathon of a semester (and an actual half-marathon this morning, incidentally) where much of my time and energy were focused on a project working to design a sustainable system that addresses the water problems of Dharavi, a slum in Mumbai, India. (Here's the Challenge's website--future SPHers, I recommend you apply for this excellent class!) The project turned out to be a great preparation for this field experience.

I'll be traveling to an area of Tanzania near the city of Arusha where I, along with the rest of the research team, will be based at PeaceHouse Africa, a Minnesota-headquartered nonprofit boarding school for AIDS orphans. The team consists of four engineering students from Michigan Tech University, four students from the University of Dar es Salaam in Tanzania, as well as public health student (and blogger!) Robyn Browning. This is the pilot year of a 3-year NSF-funded program where we'll be laying the groundwork to conduct research and eventual improvements in the areas of safe water, sanitation, air pollution, and malaria.

For the first few days, we'll be forming partnerships with NGOs and research centers in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania's largest city. Then, we'll move to PeaceHouse Secondary School to continue the project. I'll be taking a brief break in the middle of the trip to hike up Mount Kilimanjaro with fellow SPH student (and blogger!) Amber Koskey. Pending internet availability, I'll update this blog as much as possible. Thanks for reading!

Posted at 7:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)