Poverty and me - Blog Action Day 2008

This post is in support of the Blog Action Day 2008 movement. From the website:

On October 15th bloggers everywhere will publish posts that discuss poverty in some way. By all posting on the same day we aim to change the conversation that day, to raise awareness, start a global discussion and add momentum to an important cause.

I was either an employee or contractor with Compassion International for about eight years. During that time, I thought that I “got” what things were like in the countries where Compassion works.

I figured, yeah, there are people that are fighting for every little thing, every day. And I had seen pictures of what these families may live in. I thought I had my arms around it.

I was wrong.

I traveled to Tanzania in September of 2006. As East African countries go, Tanzania has it pretty well. There are a variety of natural resources to provide national income. There are tourist attractions to bring in more income (the Serengeti, Mount Kilimanjaro). It has a coastline with a major port (Dar es Salaam). It is a peaceful country, without tribal or ethnic problems. The government has been stable. All in all, they do not suffer many of the problems of other East African nations.

We stayed in Arusha. Things there are about what I expected. This is a major city in Tanzania, gateway for safaris and mountain climbing excursions. There are lots of businesses, good roads, decent housing. There is poverty here, for sure, but there are churches and people to help here. There is infrastructure here, and people can get by.

Finally, we traveled to Manyoni, a small town(?) near the center of Tanzania. I say small town, because before we left, I was able to find a couple of maps online that showed Manyoni on them. It was connected (according to the maps) to Arusha by a secondary highway, and was about 200km (125 miles, for Americans that never bothered to learn - including me) away from Arusha. Distance-wise, that’s about the same as from my home to my friends that live in Longmont. About two hours, depending on traffic through Denver on any given day.

Arusha is in the upper-right, Manyoni in the lower-left. The highway even has a designation.

The first 15 minutes out of Arusha are on a paved road. The paved road ends at the junction that heads toward the national parks. What is left is dirt road. This is not “dirt road” like in the rural parts of the Western US. The country director we dined with called this an Old Testament Road. As in, it was created then, and that is the last time it has had any maintenance. This road is basically a single-track jeep trail. It is rough, rutted, and in some places filled with sand. We were in a Land Cruiser and bouncing up and down, back and forth. For eight hours. To travel just over one hundred miles.

And this is a secondary highway. In the US, that designation means a state highway. Two lanes, paved, wide, safe to travel.

In Tanzania, this is a road of commerce. We passed several other vehicles. Picket-side trucks piled fifteen feet high with goods, produce, clothing, whatever. Tanker trucks carrying fuel. Buses packed beyond capacity with people trying to travel from the center of the country to the north.

And we were lucky. For us, eight hours. For all these other vehicles, two days. And this is hard travel. There is no travel at night. That would be insane. And thank goodness that this was the dry season. This road would be one long mud hole in rainy season.

We passed through two towns along the way. The first was at the major junction near the label for the Tarangore national park. I don’t remember its name. It consisted of maybe a dozen buildings, including a small cafe. And they had a mile of paved road.

The second was Singida. It is the second major junction along the road. This was a town with maybe a hundred residents. There were some shops, and a couple of restaurants. Singida also has some really cool rock formations along the road. It reminded me of Vedawoo in Wyoming. But no paved roads. Probably a boarding house here. In the cafe where we stopped, I had fresh roasted goat ribs. Yummy!

Along the way, I don’t remember seeing any fueling stations. No repair facilities. You break down on this road, and you are going to be in big, big trouble.

All the other towns listed on that map fragment? Best I can tell, they are locations of Masai (or other local tribes) huts. Family villages of 3-6 straw huts.

And finally in Manyoni. There are about 800 people living in the vicinity of Manyoni. There is one road that has business along the way. Selling used clothing. Or hair salons. Two or three places to sleep. Trucks lined up all along the road, because this is the stopping place when going from the coast to anywhere. You get here before it gets dark. We ate at two different restaurants. I think those and the boarding house were the only places that I saw with electricity. There is a railroad track. But it wasn’t used any more.

Manyoni has a serious problem with desertification. Sand is moving in. Fields where crops are grown are being over run with sand. One large church in Manyoni has a large well. This is an incredible resource for its members. The other people had to carry five gallon buckets (usually on the woman’s head) some distance to get water for the day. And spend the majority of their income for the water.

This is the poverty that I saw. No infrastructure. No communication between towns (other than cell phones. Cell phones were everywhere). If you live in somewhere like Manyoni, you are almost always stuck there. It’s nearly impossible to get anywhere else. And you have a few hundred other people in the same condition to help you out.

This is why things are so much worse in the third world versus the US. Sure, the US has poverty. But there are ways to get somewhere else, to get help, to get to somewhere that you have a chance.

Get up, do something. Donate time, talents or treasure to someone, somewhere that is trying to make the world a better place. Think bigger than your own room, than your own city or country. Find a way to help.

Every little bit counts.