Ever thought about doing a stint as a volunteer in another country? Lauren Krugel of Thornhill spent a few months in Tanzania, helping to build a school and teaching English.
By LAUREN KRUGEL, CP
My adventure began simply, when I typed the words "volunteer" and "Africa" into my search engine. The first hit was a website for a U.K.-based non-government organization called, appropriately enough, Volunteer Africa.
Volunteer Africa recruits people from around the world to work on development projects in rural Tanzania. They set up their volunteers up in villages where they work on development projects dealing with HIV/AIDS awareness, education and water sanitation.
Having lived a sheltered, suburban life, I first thought I didn't have the rock-solid constitution to handle living in a Third World country.
But I slowly began to see this as the perfect chance to learn, grow and put my idealism to work.
I'm not sure how I fell in love with East Africa, but I was dead set on one day visiting that part of the world, much to the chagrin of my white-knuckled parents.
With just a few months to prepare for my adventure, the scrambling began.
Planning a visit to a developing country is much more complicated than a romp to Paris or New York.
First of all, there's no easy or cheap way to fly to sub-Saharan Africa. My journey cost a reasonable $1,700, but took nearly two days.
The next step was to arm my body against the myriad tropical diseases one can get in Africa. My arm felt like a pincushion after a visit to the doctor.
Also very important were anti-malarial tablets. Alone, they're not enough to prevent malaria -- the No. 1 killer in sub-Saharan Africa -- but used with mosquito nets and lots of bug spray, they reduce the risk.
I went through a shopping list so long it could have stretched to Tanzania. But only a sliver of my supplies fit into my rucksack.
I didn't understand the meaning of "packing light" until this adventure. Two pairs of pants, one skirt and five T-shirts got me through more than two months.
In Dar es Salaam, the commercial capital, we were given a week of Swahili training. Many Tanzanians speak English, but it's not so common in the rural area where we were heading.
Then we travelled in rickety jeeps to our destination, where we were set up with a Tanzanian organization called the Health Actions Promotions Association.
HAPA operates out of the town of Singida, smack-dab in the centre of Tanzania, about a 12-hour drive from the coast.
It's a poor, dry, dusty and in many ways uninhabitable place, but it wasn't long before it felt like home.
I lived in a tiny village named Kimbwi, a very bumpy hour's drive from Singida. HAPA had built a primary school, which draws more than 700 area children.
Our assignment was to build new classrooms to replace the crumbling old ones.
Our living arrangement was as rustic as it gets for this city girl. Seven of us -- from Canada, Britain and the United States and ranging in age from 18 to 50 -- had a giant canvas army tent to sleep in, a basic charcoal-fuelled grill, a hole in the ground for a toilet and a bucket for a shower.
Water came from a well about a 10-minute walk away and had to be purified thoroughly before cooking, drinking or washing.
There was no electric light for miles around, which made the enormous African sky that much more breathtaking at night.
We'd awaken each morning at dawn to the crowing of roosters and amble our way to our "kitchen," a picnic bench under a military-style canopy.
After a breakfast of fresh fruit, eggs and bread, we'd head to the work site.
Not surprisingly, the construction site did not meet the safety requirements one would expect in North America. Scaffolding consisted of rotting wooden planks and leaned haphazardly against the outer wall. Concrete was mixed from scratch, then transported, by hand, in little trays.
Local labourers, with only plastic sandals protecting their feet, ran the show. Our clothes were so filthy by the end, we burned them in a massive bonfire.
Work was usually over by early afternoon because by then it would be too hot.
Afternoons were supposed to be for resting, but the 10 teachers at the school desperately needed help. We were asked to teach English to grades 1 and 6.
Though not part of my original job description, teaching became my favourite part of the day.
Each afternoon we were greeted by 80 students who would stand up and chorus, "Good afternoon, Madam!"
Teaching was frustrating because there wasn't the time or the manpower to give each child the attention he or she deserved. With the older class, I found the girls had less focus than the boys. At 13 and 14 years old, all most of the girls had to look forward to was getting married and bearing children.
We taught them about Halloween, which they thought both strange and hilarious. I spent one class teaching the older students English slang phrases. I knew I had done my job when swarms of children ran up to me yelling, "What's up?"
We taught the younger kids the Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes song and the Hokey Pokey.
Our friends in Kimbwi became like family. We were treated to feasts of ugali (cornmeal), pilau rice, cooked banana and wonderful sugary spicy chai. We hosted dinner parties, but served North American and European delicacies like pizza.
I never cried as hard as I did the day we left our friends in Kimbwi, because I knew I might never see them again.
I've made pacts with my volunteer friends that we will return to Kimbwi in five or 10 years to see how the community has progressed since our stay -- we were the last batch of volunteers sent there.
I hope at least a few of us follow through.
TANZANIA
Capital: Dodoma (Dar es Salaam is the commercial capital and home to most embassies)
Area: 945 square kilometres
Population: 37.7 million
Gross national income (per capita): $290 US
UN Human Development Index ranking: 164 out of 177 countries
Life expectancy at birth: 41
Adult literacy rate: 77 per cent (men, 85 per cent; women, 69 per cent)
Rural population using sanitized drinking water: 62 per cent
Source: Canadian International Development Agency
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