It is a lovely, sunny Sunday afternoon and I am just home from an
overnight in the country. There is a “Technical Review Panel” arriving today
from all over – many from the WFP head office in Rome – and we are
all off to the country again tomorrow to meet two grower groups on
their turf. The trip has not been too manicured, that is, the farmers
can say what they will, no one has prepared speeches for them and they
will show the review panel around their warehouses and offices and
actually go out to the field to stand in some corn patches.
Apparently my help has come with editing some of the information to be
handed out to the members of this panel so they can read up somewhat
on these two groups (and the 6 other “SACCOs”) before they arrive in the field. Important to be helpful.
Also, this week, I managed to get the recently hired NGO (the one who
will be giving additional “training” to the farmers), to come to the
Arusha office and talk to the staff who want to quide this field work and ensure this contract is honoured. My job is to ‘nag’ (it appears to me) to get a few things underway. The meeting was successful, as was the work shop of a few weeks ago. So, yes, some success so far.
But hay, it’s not all work.
I had a great hour while away last evening – I found myself, at dusk, having a cup of tea and a donut in a wee tea house on a very back street of the town we were staying in. Everyone crowded either into what felt like someone’s living room or peered through the window watching a soccer game on cable tv. Most there of a Saturday evening for the company and they are not likely to have either a tv or electricity in their own homes. I’d left my two traveling companion-work mates in the bar across from our simple trucker’s motel, with a clutch of rather relaxed women, as I went in search of this cup of tea. I was in a place where few toourists, such as myself, would find themselves.
Honestly, Tanzanians are a very sweet bunch.