Sunday, February 22, 2015

I Carried A Watermelon - The Saga of the Watermelon Harvest

Feb 22, 2015

PROLOGUE
When Tabitha dreams, she dreams big and then does whatever it takes to turn that dream into reality!!! After much research and study, Tabitha and Victor decided to start a watermelon farm to help raise money for the construction of Hero Home! 

On December 1st, they planted 1 kg of hybrid watermelon seeds. I wasn’t here for the initial stages but their stories suggest planting the seeds was an adventure in itself.  They dug, they tilled, they toiled, they soiled… I don’t know the details but they did the things that farmers do…except they did it by hand (even the “fertilizer” part…and here in Tanzania they use nothing but the most “natural” and “organic” fertilizer… that’s the polite way of saying they use cow dung.)

They were fortunate enough to have a sizeable pond nearby and they dug a small reservoir and were able to pump water from the pond so that they could water the fields.  Like I said, Tabitha goes big!!  For 60 days, along with two young worker dudes, they worked hard to tend to the every need of the little baby melons.  

I know growing the plants was no easy task but that story will have to be told another time. This saga starts once the watermelons had already matured in to beautiful, juicy fruits (noticed that I used the word fruit to avoid saying they matured into beautiful, juicy melons! We need to keep your mind out of the gutter and focused on the story!!)

So, get ready for The Saga of the Watermelon Harvest.  I know my stories tend to be lengthy… but this adventure is beyond what I could have expected, so be prepared for an even longer tale! To make it more manageable, I’ve broken it down to day by day, play by play.

CHAPTER 1 – Monday, February 9, 2015
As any watermelon farmer knows, and as I learned upon my return to Tanzania, hybrid watermelons take between 60 and 75 days to fully mature.  After patiently waiting 69 days, Tabitha decided it was time to harvest their 2 acres of watermelons. After talking to a few different Kenyan buyers and trying to negotiate a fair price, she was still torn between selling them all to a buyer for a less than desired price or attempting to sell them ourselves in the market.  We decided that regardless, harvesting needed to happen as they were going to start bursting open in the blazing sun.

So, Monday afternoon, we rested and got ready to head out to the field (about 12 kms from town) for a night harvest. We decided a night harvest would be best as there would be less distractions and we could be ready in the morning to transport our watermelons.  We headed out at 8pm with Victor and Tabitha on our motorcycle and myself and Alima, a high school student that has been staying with us, on another motorcycle. Just as we arrived on the field, we got a phone call from a Kenyan buyer offering us 22Ksh (25 cents/kg). Since it was the best price we’d been offered so far, we decided to accept the offer. With a buyer lined up, we headed down to the field to get to work.

At 10:00pm, with our knives and scissors in hand, we all got to work cutting the watermelon stems and piling the melons in small piles. To any passerby our field was nothing but darkness and six bobbing lights.  To us, it was nothing but watermelons everywhere we looked.  For 4 hours, we worked like a good rescue squad moving up one row and down the other.  In the first corner of the field, the watermelons were a decent size, nothing to write home about, not even picture worthy, but definitely a nice couple kilos each.  As we moved up towards the better soil, the watermelons kept getting bigger and bigger until every second watermelon, someone would hold it up and yell out, “I found Grandpa”.. . “ohh, this one is Uncle for sure!”  and of course everyone would have to stop and look.  They were ginormous! Easily 8 or more kilos each one! 

With bugs swarming in our ears and eyes, we carried on cutting and piling.  Our progress was only slowed by trails of army ants that would sneak up on us, crawl into our socks and shoes and start biting. It made for quite a scene… you’d be bent over, bum in the air cutting a stem and then 2 seconds later you’re jumping up and down trying to get the ants off. 

In the midst of the army ants, something found its way into my eye and it started to swell and burn.  The official diagnosis of my eye problem was that a certain bug got in my eye and peed.  Tabitha said it first but multiple people agreed with the story.. “oh yeah, a bug peed in your eye… it’s quite common.” It was a new experience for me, that’s for sure!

At 215 am, we finished cutting every last watermelon on the 2 of acres land.  We took a short break with bread, cookies, and some water and we were just getting ready to start carrying the watermelons to the edge of field when a few drizzles of rain fell down on us.  I hadn’t seen rain since I had arrived over 3 weeks prior and Tabitha said there hadn’t been rain since December… so none of us thought for a minute that the few drops would prove to be any more than a tease.  HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!!! Man, we were wrong!

When it rain is it pours! And it poured!!! When the few drops turned into a down pour, we grabbed our stuff and took cover in the mud hut that our two worker boys had been living in.  I’m not knocking the mud hut at all.. it’s a beautiful hut that Tabitha, Victor and the boys built themselves and it’s awesome! It’s made of mud from a termite hill and the roof is made from reeds with a plastic tarp on top and it has an awesome bed made from trees. It’s nice and cool in the afternoon and it’s well ventilated.  That said, it is not where you want to be with 5 other people at 3am in the middle of the biggest rain storm you’ve experienced in a long time.  The rain poured and poured!  I’ve seen some good rain storms in my years here, but this one may have been one of the biggest. It was insane!!! The plastic tarp did what it could to keep the rain out but we still got rained on.  Maybe it was the exhaustion (probably) but all my mind could think about was the rain washing away our little mud hut.  After an hour of pounding rain, I didn’t even care that our watermelons were being pounded by the rain, I only cared about our house not being swept away.  I gained a whole new appreciation for flash floods.  I never really understood how people died in flash floods.. like, how did they not see it coming and then escape, but while I sat huddle in the corner of the bed in our hut, I had a new understanding of how it could happen.  

I realized in the morning that I was probably being a bit over-dramatic but an exhausted mind is rarely rational.  Somehow through the rain storm, I still managed to have a decent internet connection so anyone who saw my facebook posts that night knows that I was pretty much freaking out!!! Like I said, an exhaust mind is rarely rational!

Chapter 2 – Tuesday, Febraury 10, 2015
The rains subsided around 6:30 am.  Even before we poked our heads out of the hut, we were already prepared for the worst.  The watermelons were so ripe that the pressure from the rain could easily have been enough to burst them.. never mind all the water they were sitting in.  When we finally saw the field, it was nothing but mini swimming pools with the watermelons just chillin’ inside. 

Having already lost close to 4 hours of work time, we quickly got to business.  With our rice sacks and buckets, we went to the piles, loaded our rice sacks and started carrying them to the edge of the field were the semi would come to pick them up. 

You know when it rains and you’re trying to avoid the puddles and then you accidentally step in a puddle and after that don’t care anymore… that was us.  For the first trip, you tried to find a path where there wasn’t water.  Then you accidentally step full on into the mud and after that.. you just don’t care!! Victor, the two workers and myself carried watermelons while Tabitha and Alima sorted them into piles of big and small.

As the day progressed, well over a hundred people came at different times to check out the action.  They couldn’t believe we had harvested at night.  Some people came to help, others to eat.  Some carried a few watermelons and then sat down and ate a few melons.… some actually helped. It became somewhat of a U-pick watermelon farm… with people eating more than they carried. The kids were the best.  They would bounce through the fields, find one or two watermelons and carry them back on their heads! It was quite the sight! I think if I was less exhausted, I would have appreciated it more, but even as I was, I did manage to appreciate how awesome it was.  We slopped through the mud back and forth but for some reason, the watermelons never diminished. No matter how many trips you carried, it always felt like there were more waiting in the exact same spot.

Around noon, the Kenyan buyer appeared.  Here is where adventure number 2 starts.  He was very nice. Very friendly, personable, blah blah blah.  He complimented the watermelons, the fields, our work, etc.. and we carried on with our job.  After countless trips and of course a few watermelon breaks, we finally finished carrying all 11,000 kilos of watermelons.  Victor and I figure we each carried at least a ton or more, our 2 worker guys probably did 2 tons each or more (they were machines!! Victor and I carried 5-7 good sized watermelons each trip, the boys probably carried 8-10 or more! They were insane!!!). The other hundred or so helpers carried or ate the rest.

At  3:07pm (after 8 hours of carrying watermelons), we finished!!!  We collapsed in the hut and devoured watermelon after watermelon!!!! It had been the perfect day for harvesting.  The night rain had made things cool in the morning and the sun only got hot by noon, unlike most days where you easily reach 28C or 30C by 8am! Tabitha talked with the buyer who assured us his semi was on the way.  He also assured us he was taking ALL the watermelons. He also assured us after some debate that he would pay cash as opposed to putting the money in the phone bank account
**side note - phone banking is a big thing here… basically your phone is a “bank” account. You can put money on your phone line and send it to someone else’s phone line,  anywhere in the country… the only issue is that someone could essentially send you money and then call the phone company and say they made a mistake with the number and the money is returned to them.. so for business purposes, it’s less than ideal.

So with everything confirmed, we sat back and waited for the semi… and ate. Everyone ate! Kids, old dudes, teens, mamas, cows, goates.. everyone! Nobody left our field without being full of watermelon! The field looked like a battle ground between mouth and watermelon and mouth was definitely victorious! There were rinds everywhere and faces were dripping in watermelon juice! It was quite a sight!!

By 630pm, the Kenyan said his semi was at the Kenyan border and it would arrive in the morning.  Tanzanians are renowned for being very welcoming people and Tabitha and Victor are no exception.  We offered him the hut for the night which he greedily accepted without any objection (despite knowing that we had worked through the night and all through the day and were beyond exhausted while he on the other hand, had napped and ate watermelon all day).  

The six of us sat outside and cooked some food, which we also shared with him. (are you picking up on the fact that this Kenyan guy was not all he was cracked up to be). After dinner, we curled up on the ground around a small bonfire and tried to get some sleep while guarding out 11 tons of watermelon.  
Day 2 was officially over.

Chapter 3 – Wednesday, February 11, 2015
After a cool and sleepless night, the sun finally rose and our day began.  The Kenyan left at 6am to go meet the semi at the border (about 1 hour away).  We woke up, ate some watermelon and waited… and waited… and waited…. And then waited.  Around 9am, we heard from guys at the border that the semi had already left but still there was no sign of the Kenyan.  At 1pm, he finally arrived with a 10 ton semi and 6 workers.  Having spent 24 hours waiting for the semi, we wasted no time getting to work.  The Kenyan (notice how I don’t even give him a name.. that’s how much I liked him) and a female worker went to work selecting the biggest watermelons.  Apparently they wanted to biggest ones at the front of the trailer as they are the heaviest.  That was fine as we knew they were taking them all.
**side note - I’m sure by this point, you can guess that the manure is about to hit the fan, but there is a reason hindsight is 20/20.  While you’re there and in the middle of the process you can’t know what to do differently. Any type of business transaction requires some amount of trust and faith and if you have neither, you won’t get far in business.  That said, we learned tons from this experience….Please don’t judge us too harshly!

So, the Kenyans started selecting the largest “grandpas” and “uncles” and “big brothers” of the watermelon patch! They’d fill a rice sack, carry it to Victor, he’d hook it on the meat scale and weigh it.  A different Kenyan worker and I would write down the amount of each bag and then it would get packed in the semi.  By 430pm, we had weighed 200 bags and we had reached 7,609 kilos of watermelon and all the biggest ones had been selected.

That’s when things got really fun! (fun in the not so fun way). So, the main Kenyan guy started talking with Tabitha about a price for the remaining watermelons (there were about 1500 kilos of “small” watermelons left with each melon weighing between 2 – 4 kilos).  He had the gall (yup, I used the word gall, not sure I’ve ever used that word before but that’s exactly what he had…), to offer us 8000Ksh for the remaining watermelons!!!! I know you can’t appreciate how insulting that is until you do the conversions… so I’ll help you.  He basically offered us 88$ for 1500 kilos of watermelon. Yup, that’s some GALL!!! Basically 6 cents/kg.  INSANE right!! We were fuming! By that point, there were a few minor things that weren’t going perfect, but that was just the final straw!!!! Tabitha went back and forth for a bit with him. We of course were angry that he hadn’t said anything about offering a lower price for smaller melons. He on the other hand was used to taking advantage of farmers.
*Side note – the saddest part of all this is that it is a completely common occurrence.  Many farmers are skilled at farming but often lack formal education and therefore, they are sadly, taken advantage of by forceful buyers.  Far too often, farmers will get ripped off for all their months of hard work and at the end, they may not even see a profit.  It’s a horrible situation! You hear about it on TV or in the news or on fair trade brochures, but it is definitely eye-opening when you experience it firsthand.  I have a new respect for the plight of farmers.

So, after refusing his offer, we continued debating back and forth.  At different times, both sides threatened to take the watermelons off the truck.  We agreed that he would leave the smaller ones and we’d deal with them ourselves.  Better we sell them than lose money on them! Then it came time to pay.  Any predictions? Yup, the jerkface (bet you didn’t see that one coming), refused to pay.  He told Tabitha he had no money.  He suggested that one of us would go with them to Kenya to get that money! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Hilarious! We all know how that story would end.  So it was not even an option!  We debated back and forth… with no real solutions. He didn’t have the money on him and we were not going to accept that he just put it in the phone “bank” account.  In the end, Victor got on the phone with his friend in Nairobi, Kenya.  His friend went to the phone agent and the jerky Kenyan sent Victor’s friend the first payment.  Once we got confirmation from Victor’s friend that he had received and withdrawn the money, we gave the go ahead to the Kenyan to send the next installment.  The total price was 168,000 Ksh (1800$ which is a lot of money in Tanzania) and there is a maximum amount that can be sent in each transaction so the process took a while.

In the meantime, the other Kenyan workers were trying to pack up the semi and get ready to go.  We were having none of it.  By this point, we had a solid posse of people at the field, including mamas with machetes, our soccer kids, teenage boys, old people, drunk people.… the works.  We were all ready for action should action happen.  I took up a seat on their spare tire that was leaning against the back door of their semi.  It conveniently prevented them from packing up the truck!! I had our soccer players sit on the second spare tire.  I sat and waited while each transaction was processed and gave the kenyan workers the stink eye (meaning I stared at them with my peed-on, infected right eye). It was amazing how quickly their behavior changed once they realized we were not to be messed with.  Suddenly the 6 of them were not as powerful as the 25 people we had standing around.  As we were waiting for the last transaction, the drunk (and probably high) semi driver got fed up from waiting around and decided to hop in the semi and put it into reverse.  Let me assure, I can more quick for a big girl!! :) Everyone got irate and started yelling at the driver! It was quite the scene. Tabitha was ready to throw down the gloves!! 

We eventually got confirmation that the final transaction had gone through and the semi sped away.  We may have been left with our 1.5 tons of good size watermelons (plus another 1.5 tons of smaller melons) but we didn’t care.  What was more important was that we showed them you can’t mess with farmers! It was quite the victory! I’m sure the story of Tabitha and how she out did the Kenyans will be passed down from generation to generation!!! Perhaps in the future it will involve a zebra out doing a lion or something.. but regardless, the story will not be forgotten!!!

With the Kenyans gone and the watermelons still there, our boys took up position to guard them through the night and we headed home for a shower and some much deserved and much needed rest.  We bought some sodas to celebrate and quickly ate and collapsed. With that, day 3 was officially over.

Chapter 4 – Thursday Febrauary 12, 2015.
Are you still with me? Don’t worry there is only 7 more days to this adventure! :)
Thursday morning, we woke up bright and early, exhausted but ready to transport our remaining watermelons to the market in a nearby town to sell ourselves.  We had a 4 ton pick-up lined up and ready to go.  I headed to the field and Tabitha and Victor followed behind.  The pick-up arrived but to our disappointment, it was not a 4 ton pick-up, it was a 2 ton pick-up that could carry up to 4 tons.  However, it was a tiny pick up and wouldn’t even fit half of our watermelons.  We gave the driver some watermelons then he asked for my hand in marriage or rather he agreed to be married to me
*Side note- in Swahili, “kuoa” means to marry someone and “kuolewa” means to be married.  Obviously, it is the man that marries “anaona” and the woman is married “anaolewa” however, this old man was totally ready to be married!  

We sent him on his way and spent the rest of the day eating watermelon with the many visitors that stopped by and we unsuccessfully tried to find a 4 ton pickup. It was a long, hot, unsuccessful day.  But on the bright side, it makes for a short chapter :)

Chapter 5 – Friday February 13th, 2015
Haha, it just dawned on me as I write this, that Friday was the 13th.  I had no idea at the time.. but it seems entirely appropriate that we’d get the most unluckiest day of the year while we are dealing with our watermelons.  So, Friday morning, still fairly tired, I set off at 6am to go to the nearest “big” town (Tarime) to find a 4 ton pick-up.  I got there and searched around. I made some friends and “nimeuza sura kidogo” (in English, it translates into “sold some face” but roughly means “hustled””… as one must do when trying to get things done). I eventually secured a 3.5 ton pick-up and we headed off to the land.  We got there by 830am and our boys and volunteer helpers/eaters were ready to go.  We loaded up the 3 tons of watermelons in the truck and we were rolling by 1100am, leaving behind a few remaining watermelons and a few volunteer eaters.  We covered the semi, I climbed in the back with the worker boy, and off we went.  We headed down the dusty road to Sirare, a town that borders Kenya and a place where we thought we could quickly sell off our remaining watermelons in a day or so to other Kenyans looking to buy wholesale watermelons.  We were told watermelons were scarce so we were fairly confident we could sell them quickly.   So confident in fact, we hardly packed a bag.  Tabitha, Victor and I all left the house with the clothes on our back, toothbrushes (except Victor), phone chargers and a few minors items.  Again, that hindsight thing is a powerful tool...

So down the dirt roads we went.  In no time, I was covered in dust!  The one night of rain did little to clear the dust from the roads!  We got to the first police check stop so I hopped out of the back, hopped on a motorcycle with Victor and sped ahead while we waited for the semi to pass through the police stop. 
**Side note - Tanzania has some new law that says you can’t ride in the back of semis.  However, drivers have chosen to interpret the law as “you can’t ride in the back of a semi while passing through a police check.” According to them, the law does not apply before or after a police check.

The pick-up arrived, and I climbed back in.  The driver decided to avoid the other police checks by taking an even smaller and even dustier dirt road.  By the end, I was covered in a think brown layer of dirt.  We got on the main road, one more police stop, one more motorcycle ride and we finally made it to Sirare. 

We went to work unloading the watermelons and of course, it started to rain. The dust and the rain were a perfect combo! (that was of course sarcasm. They were as good of a combo as Ike and Tina….).  So we got set up and started selling.  People weren’t used to the hybrid watermelons (they are used to the dark green ones that aren’t nearly as delicious).  Sales were decent but it was already quite late so we started covering up our watermelon.  Then, right on cue, the next obstacle.  We had unloaded our watermelons on the side of the road at a place where people typically sell fruit. There was a guard for the area and he of course wanted to charge obscene amounts to guard our watermelons.  We considered staying with him through the night but we were discouraged from staying as the town itself isn’t overly safe.  Tabitha had some fellow runners that she could possibly get to come guard with him but the guard refused.  He argued that he couldn’t trust whoever we put to guard with him. With no other option, we negotiated a better price and hoped for the best. Although we all know what’s coming, right?? It was of course Friday the 13th so you know we can’t possibly have good luck! We grabbed some food, grabbed some rooms and headed to bed. Day 5, over and out.

Chapter 6 – Saturday, February 14th, 2015
Happy Valentine’s Day! So before the crack of dawn, we were up and getting back into our same outfits as the day before (my clothes were not only dusty but also a bit damp… it was less than desirable).  By 600am we were back at our watermelons and of course, no surprise, tons were missing! Yup, the guard failed to do his job of guarding and well over a 100 watermelons were taken. We talked to him, we yelled at him, but in Tanzania, sadly, there is little you can do.  We can go to the police but they just want a bribe and then you have to pay them to look into your case and then at the end of it all, it’s just our word against his… So, we let it go.  

Saturday was market day we had high hopes.  There was a local lady that typically sells fruit so we hired her to sell our melons.  She spoke the local tribal language and new people and stuff.  However, halfway through the day, we realized she was not all she was cracked up to be.  She was selling big watermelons for cheap and just not really trying.  So we let her finish the day and that was the end of that. 

In the evening, Tabitha’s runner came by.  His nickname is Rhino… and I can assure you it’s not an ironic nickname (like big guys being called Tiny).  He was well over 6 feet, his biceps were massive and his arms were almost as long as his body.  He’s a sprinter and javelin thrower.  He came to have a few “words” with our guard and that was the end of that. We went to bed and again, hoped for the best.

Chapter 7 – Sunday, February 15th, 2015
Again, we were up by 530 and at the watermelons by 600am. Thanks to Rhino, every watermelon was securely in its place. Our selling lady was at church so we took to selling ourselves.  We rocked it! Between Tabitha and her dreds and not looking like your typical mama, Victor with his awesome dreds and being called Rasta by every passerby, me - the white girl that speaks Swahili and Rhino, we were a force to be reckoned with! 

The highlight of the day was when the garbage collector guys came by to pick up the street garbage.  As we had taken to sharing watermelons with kids, seniors and anyone that asked, we also decided to give the garbage collectors some watermelons.  Being the daughter of a janitor and avid dumpster diver, I have the utmost respect for trash collectors.  We gave them 2 nice watermelons each and they were incredibly grateful.  They said that since people had started selling fruit in the spot, they had never received anything.  It felt good to be able to give something to others. We had a great day and sold plenty of watermelons all day. By the end of the day, there were still plenty of watermelons to sell.  We packed up at 8pm with a renewed optimism.   We headed to bed, exhausted but hopeful. Day 7 done.

Chapter 8 – Monday, February 16th, 2015
Once again, we got up early and hesitantly dawned our filthy, filthy clothes!! You know it’s bad when I have an issue with the hygiene level. My clothes were covered in dust, sweat, hay (as the watermelons were sitting on a bed of hay).  It was bad.. .and it was only day 4 of wearing them. We took to selling and again, sales were good but we didn’t quite get the wholesale customers we were expecting.  A couple people took 30 or 50 melons but mostly it was one or two.  We had a solid customer base of young girls that would buy 5-8 melons and then cut them into slices and sell them on the street. They were definitely entertaining! Complaining about the price, the size or whatever they could complain about. We joked around with them and despite all the complaining, we had a good time with most of them.  By the end of Monday, we still had well over 500 melons.  Despite the fact that we were selling most of our watermelons for 30 cents to 1.25$, we still managed to bring in a few hundred dollars.  We packed up and headed to bed. Day 8 over.

Chapter 9 – Tuesday, February 17th, 2015
A new day… the same filthy filthy clothes! The clothes were so incredibly dirty from the dust, the rain, the watermelons, the sweat, the dirt from being on the side of the road all day… not to mention picking up the dusty watermelons…. It was bad! I had managed to wash my sports bra but it didn’t dry by the morning so it was just slightly less dirty and more damp.  It was bad! Real bad!! And that’s coming from me…..

We once again headed to our watermelons. Victor headed home that afternoon and Tabitha and I continued to sell until the evening.  That afternoon, the seller lady made us an offer we couldn’t refuse.  She offer to buy the remaining watermelons at a discounted price.  Little did she know we were exhausted and ready to be done! We sold until the evening and then agreed to sell her the watermelons.  We counted the watermelons in dark and of course, it once again, it started to rain.  We sold off our remaining 240 watermelons (not too bad considering we started with over well 2000 watermelons) and we called it done!! Tabitha and I headed to the guest house in the pouring rain, relieved to know that we only had to put on our clothes one more time!!

And that’s all she wrote! (I say “that’s all” like it was some short tale.. and not some massive 9 chapter saga).  It was quite the adventure. In the end, we made just under 2500$, which more than covered our expenses to grow the watermelons, so we are thankful.  It is probably the hardest earned 2500$ I’ve ever experienced! However, what we learned in the process was just as valuable as what we made in profit. 

EPILOGUE
Of course there is an epilogue.  You didn’t think I’d include a prologue and not have some kind of epilogue at the end.

So, through the entire experience, there was one thing we always remembered. Hero Home and Hero Fields (the name we gave to the watermelon farm) is a charitable organization and through growing the watermelons, we were able to do MANY charitable acts.

1. We fed people. Lots of people!!! Like, lots and lots of people! People came from all different villages during the harvest to eat and eat and maybe help a bit and then eat some more! We easily feed a couple hundred people and more than half a ton of watermelons were consumed in the 3 days we were at the field.  Then, hundreds more were eaten while we were selling in Sirare.  Kids ate until they themselves decided they were full.  Street kids came and hung out and Tabitha feed them until they were beyond full.  We fed seniors, mamas, street people and everyone in between. Anyone that passed got a taste and many walked away with huge slices of watermelons and even bigger smiles.  My favourite is still the garbage collectors but there were also a few individuals with mental challenges that came by to eat.  There was one mama with her daughter that both had some mental challenges and they would pass by a few times a day and we’d give them a watermelon each time.  So, if nothing else, We Fed People!

2. Tabitha showed people what is possible.  At the start, people definitely laughed at her. Both to her face and behind her back.  When the rains were pouring in December and she was scooping water out of each seed hole, people thought she was crazy! No one has tried growing much more than cassava, tomatoes, onions, beans and corn in the fields near Hero Home. A couple people have done small patches of the black watermelons but with minimal success.  Definitely no one had tried hybrid watermelons and no one had considered that big of a field.  People thought she was crazy… and then 60 days later, they changed their mind.  She showed them what was possible. Sometimes we need to see things before we can dream them. Tabitha showed people something that they can all work to achieve.  That in itself is a charitable act! 

3. Tabitha also showed farmers how to deal with buyers! Not being a push-over, standing your ground and holding out for the best.  That’s what she did and other farmers watched her.  Hopefully she also sent a message to the Kenyan buyers that not every farmer is uneducated and there to be taken advantage of!

4. Tabitha provided income for people. While we were at the field, mama’s came and bought watermelons for a super cheap price so that they could go and sell them in the local markets and make money for their family. In Sirare, we provided beautiful watermelons for well over 20 girls to cut and sell on the street.  We gave them a great price so that they could in turn, make a huge profit and provide for their families. We were incredibly generous with them, selling them at a cheap price, allowing them to return any unripe watermelons and allowing them to pay us at the end of the day. 

4. We made money.  We turned a profit and all that money will go back into the community and right back in to making Hero Home a reality!


So, there you go.  That’s the end of the Saga.  If you’re still with me after all those pages, than thank you!! If not, I totally don’t blame you!! I am Icelandic and you know the Icelanders love their epic Sagas, so it’s in my blood!!  There will be plenty more adventures to come and hopefully one day soon I’ll get better at summarizing! :) Stay tuned! Thank you! Asante sana!

Check out some pictures of the adventure on our facebook page!
Feb 6th, 2015

It’s been three weeks since departure. These days, I flip between feeling like I just arrived yesterday and feeling like I’ve never left.  It’s always a bit of a transition uprooting yourself from everything you grew up with and returning to a place that has become your second home.  I have quickly been reminded of the heat, which I instantly forgot as soon as I left Tanzania last time.  Arriving here at the end of January, the middle of the dry season, is as much of a shock as arriving in Winnipeg in at the end of January.  Both places tend to be in the middle of the worst weather mother nature can throw at them. 

Since I’ve been here in Shirati, I have yet to see the rain fall.  Apparently the last rain drop fell sometime in December.  As always, water continues to be an ongoing issue.  I heard that Winnipeg has a bit of an issue with water recently.  I thought I’d share a bit more about our water situation here in Shirati. 


In 10 years of coming to Tanzania, the water struggle continues to baffle me.  Only in Tanzania can you live 3 kms from the second largest fresh water lake in the world and still struggle with water every single day.  We have a water tap in our yard but that does little to provide us with water security.  The town’s main water system provides each neighborhood of the small town of Shirati with water on a rotating basis.  However, that rotation quickly comes to a halt when the pumps break, which sadly, is very often.  When water does come, “make hay when the sunshines” takes on a whole new meaning.  We fill every bucket in site and hope that it lasts until the next water supply.  Sadly, our neighbours are much less fortunate.  Despite being able to see the lake from their houses, the water is no closer to reaching their homes then if it lake was miles away. It definitely makes you question the government’s actions  or rather lack of action.  Water is the basis of life and all living things and yet so many people here struggle to access it.  And in this case, we’re not even talking about having running water in their homes or even having access to clean, safe drinking water.  We’re simply talking easy access to water… any kind of water.  It’s crazy. I know I’ve talked about this in the past but in the 10 years that I’ve been coming here, it makes me sad to see that a sustainable solutions contines to be out of reach. Hopefully after 20 years of coming here, this will no longer be a blog topic.  Definitely makes boiling your water for a couple of days seem like a privilege, eh? :)  

Friday, January 23, 2015

Return to Tanzania Vol. 4

Step 1: Check in 6 pieces of luggage with a combined weight of 288lbs 
Step 2: Chop off 10 inches of hair
Step 3: Depart with 47 lbs of carry-on
Step 4: Realize after passing through security that you grabbed the wrong external hard drive and mentally kick yourself repeatedly.
Step 5: Consciously ignore the announcement that says everyone must measure their carry-on luggage to ensure it fits in the overhead compartment.  Stay in a corner and avoid eye contact with everyone because you know full well that you are THAT person (the one with the ridiculously oversized carry-ons).
Step 6: Survive 31 hours of travel by eating, sleeping and watching movies.  Pass through customs like a champ and be greeted by Moshi Ally, in a truck, whose first response is “umenenepaaaa”
Step 7: Ride in the back of truck through the streets of Dar es Salaam in the pouring rain only to get to the guest house that has no electricity. Know in that moment you have finally returned!

Alright,those were the simple steps leading up to the much larger and far more exciting adventure that lay ahead.  For anyone new to this blog or my tales in Tanzania, let me warn you of the following:
- The posts tend to be incredibly long so feel free to ignore them, skim over them, or read them while enjoying a nice visit to the can (they make for a good bathroom reading).
- They always contain a solid balance of adventure, stupidity, forgetfulness, humour, unavoidable chaos, and in most cases a sprinkle of illness of some sort.

So, if you’re with me, here we go….  Return to Tanzania Vol. 4
So, the first steps were “easy” in the way that most things are “easy” in a developing world where electricity rarely cuts out, transportation is reliable and credit card machines are common place.  There were definitely some ups and downs in the weeks leading up to departure and of course, the 42-day escapade (and internet stalking) that was required to secure permission for 6 bags of humanitarian baggage (at 50lbs a piece) was definitely a challenge. But aside from a bit of stressing and lack of sleep, everything was simple. 

So, those first 7 steps got me to Tanzania.  The flights were joyfully uneventful with the highlight being the American girl I was sitting beside on the Zurich-Dar flight who got off in Nairobi and made the mistake of forgetting her bag of mini snickers.  I can assure that I didn’t make the same mistake! 

Once in Dar, I got my visa, my bags were all there waiting for me and customs didn’t even give me a glance while I pushed the first three bags through the scanners and they didn’t give me a second glance when I came back the second time and pushed the next three bags through the scanner.  My good friend Uncle Moshi was there to greet me with a little pick up truck and after the too-be-expected greeting of “umenenepaaaa” we were off and flying down the streets of Dar es Salaam.  It only took the rain a few minutes to find us and in no time we were flying through the pouring rain.  After some minor confusion, we were able to find a guest house, where of course, the electricity had cut out.  So, in the darkness and the pouring rain, we carried my 6 bags + carry-on through a bumpy back alley to the candle-lit guest house.   Uncle Moshi left me and Luggy (my name for the collective 288lb of checked luggage and 47 pounds of carry-on luggage. Yup, that’s right, my “carry-on” luggage weighed a whopping 47 lbs.  I was THAT person.. THAT person in the security line that has the massive bag and takes up 4 of the little plastic baskets on the conveyor belt.  That was me… and actually has been me on every trip. I’m used to it. I’ve mastered avoiding eye contact with everyone.  On a funny side note, getting off the plane in Tanzania, I was the second last person off as I was trying to collect all my carry-on bags and this nice girl from the US walks up the aisle behind me and said “oh crap, they let you carry that on, that’s amazing!” Yup, I’m that person! J)

Anyways, back to the story. Uncle Moshi left me in my candle-lit room.  By this time it was past midnight and we were meeting at 4am to head to the bus station so that I could continue on to Mwanza. I tried to set up my phone, had a bit of a “shower” in the dark with a cup and a bucket and then headed to bed.  The electricity came back around 2am and I woke up at 4am.  By 415am, I had moved all of Luggy to the lobby and waited for Uncle Moshi who showed up around 515am.  At least this time, it wasn’t raining.  We headed to the Ubungo Bus Station in downtown Dar and navigated the puddles, people and chaos that is common in every major bus station in Tanzania.  We loaded my bags, paid for the ticket and in a matter of minutes, at 6:08am, the bus was off and rolling.  And.. we didn’t break down at 12:30pm.  The first break down was relatively short.  Some pipe thing burst but the mechanic hitched a ride on a semi to a nearby town, got the part fixed and we were up and rolling within an hour.  The second break down happened at 10:45pm.  We were only 2 hours away from Mwanza.  About 10 minutes after we broke down, another bus stopped and all the remaining passengers flew off our bus to find seats on the new one.  However, having a 325lbs of luggage does not lend well to quick transfers.  Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to find room in the new bus for all my bags, I “decided” (not that it was a choice) to stay with the sinking ship.  Everyone left and I stayed back with the two drivers, the ticket girl and the mechanic.  Free rides and spare parts are a lot harder to come by at 11pm than at noon.  The mechanic eventually hitched a ride and sent off to find the necessary supplies.  I got comfy in the seat I had to come to know intimately in the last 17 hours of travel.  I chatted with drivers,  listened to some tunes, read, slept and took a few squatting pees in a darkness that is only experienced when you are truly in the middle of nowhere.  By  1am the part was fixed we just waited another half hour for the crazy glue it dry (they don’t have duct tape readily available here).

 By 1:45am, we were back on the road, our load a little lighter with only 5 people on board.  We made it to Mwanza by 4am and I lucked out and caught a local bus to the next bus station.  They dropped me and Luggy off outside the ticket office where we continued to sit in darkness as, of course, the electricity was also out in Mwanza.  I did my best to sprawl over 7 bags for the two hours until the bus arrived. By 630am, the next bus was there.  I loaded everything in, bought my ticket and then asked for permission to pay for my bags once we arrived as I only had 600 Shillings left in my pocket (600 only sounds like a big number, it actually works out to just over 34 cents).  With my 34 cents, I attempted to use the pay toilets however the guy wanted to 17 cents and anyone who knows me, knows that just was not going to happen. I tried to bargain him down to 6 cents but he refused so I took a short walk past the bus station, found a little field and popped a squat.  Clearly he mistook me for someone much classier and less frugal.  He was wrong.

 With my bladder satisfied, I headed back to the bus and waited for our 8am departure.  We had a smooth bus ride with a hot and sweaty 2 hour layover in town an hour away from the final destination.  Luggy and I arrived safely in Shirati at 4:10pm to welcoming hugs from Tabitha and Victor. THE END.
Just for fun, here are the numbers:
Total pounds of luggage: 335
Number of takes offs: 4
Total travel hours of air travel: 31
Number of busses: 2
Total hours of bus travel: 30
Hours spent in an actual bed between Saturday Jan 17th and Wednesday Jan 21: 2

However the numbers aren’t important, what matters is that I made! The luggage made it! We are in the same amount of pieces as when we left, so for that, I am incredibly thankful! Thanks for all the good vibes that were sent our way!!! I’ll keep everyone posted on the rest of the adventure!!  All your donations in the form of equipment and funds will be put to good use very soon! Thank you for your continued support! I would never be here without everyone’s help. We cannot thank you enough!

Friday, October 3, 2014

GROUND BREAKING NEWS!

I apologize for the long delays in getting this latest post out! Although things have been quiet in the cyber world, they have been very exciting in the REAL world!  There are so many amazing updates, I don't know where to begin!

For anyone that has followed along with us over the years, you know very well that we've had obstacle after obstacle placed in our path but we always found a way to keep moving forward.  Sometimes it meant climbing over, around or under.  Sometimes it meant creating a whole new path.  Through it all, we never gave up and we never allowed ourselves to believe that Hero Home wouldn't happen.  Thanks to Tabitha's endless determination and dedication, Hero Home is turning into a reality right before our eyes.


When I left Hero Home at the end of October of last year, we had cleared a temporary field to provide a space for kids to come and play. Since then, Tabitha has been going non-stop.   In May, she officially packed up everything in Mwanza and moved out to the land.  She is living in a neighbouring town and commutes to the site everyday to oversee construction.  In early June, the workers broke ground on the house!  They dug the outlines of all the rooms and then began filling it in with rocks and sand.  Keep in mind, these rocks are essentially made by hand.  They started with these massive boulders that were in the ground and through sheer force, they break them into smaller boulders and from there, break them into rocks and even gravel. It's an unbelievable process!
 Check out the boulders on the right hand side.  
That's what gets broken down into useable rocks.

 There are the piles of rocks they are using for the foundation.
There are the rocks ready to become the foundation of the Hero Home house.

 The rocks turn into a foundation
The nearly completed foundation!
So, once they got the boulders the right size, they began laying the foundation.  It's incredibly hard work in incredibly hot conditions! However, they've done an amazing job and it looks fantastic!  While the foundation was going in, they were also making by hand, thousands and thousands of the clay bricks for the walls.  
 Here they are drying the handmade bricks in a make-shift kiln.

 Here is some of the many bricks needed for the walls.

Things are going great on site.  As soon as the house is done, Tabitha will be able to live on site and get the next phases of the project happening! It's definitely taken us longer than we hoped, but it is so exciting and encouraging to actually see it all come together! The next steps are going to be incredibly exciting!  I'll keep you all posted.

As for me, I've been in Winnipeg since last October so I have no dramatic tales of life-threatening sicknesses, robberies or anything too exciting to share with you.  I've been working hard on the fundraising and administrative side of GO!.  We have lots of exciting thing coming your way in the next few months so definitely check back soon!

Thanks again for all your support along the way! We couldn't be here with you! :) 

Monday, November 25, 2013

MOVING FORWARD!

Hero Home Updates!


So much exciting news I don't know where to begin! 

I left Tanzania on October 23 but before leaving, I was able to spend some time out on our land and see all the progress that is being made! It's unbelievable! Tabitha and the workers have done so much work, the land is almost unrecognisable, in the best way possible!!  Check out the before and after photographs!






Originally, we had cleared a small area for the kids to start playing soccer. I say small now, however, at the time, it definitely seemed like a decent sized area. We were limited because a neighbour was growing cassava root on our land and could not remove it until the rains started and soften the ground. Well, the rains came, the cassava went and the workers cleared a larger field. Now, the kids have a HUGE area on which to run, laugh, and play soccer! I'm completely biased, but I will say, it looks amazing! It still has a long way to go to be a standard soccer field, but it is definitely well on its way! The most exciting part is that they kids are coming out every day to play and practice and learn and be active! It is a beautiful site!!! We can finally say, our Heroes have arrived! :) 





Next up, the workers started digging a toilet. For once, luck was on our side and they dug 14' without hitting a single boulder, which in this particular area, is extremely rare. So, plans to make that the toilet were ditched and it will now become our well! They put the digging on hold until the end of the dry season so that they knew once they hit water, it was real water, not just superficial water from the rains. As a result of all that, they relocated the toilets and the new septic tank is nearing completion! 


But we are not done there! The updates continue! They have already made 3000 clay bricks (different than the cement bricks we were using on the original land, but equally strong and some would argue longer lasting). The foundation for the main house has already been dug when I was there and now, since I have left, construction has begun! Pretty soon, Hero Home will actually have a HOME! Tabitha also rented some neighbouring land to start a garden.. .and this is "not your grandma's garden!" This is the real deal! (no offence if your grandma has a huge garden! It's just an expression). The garden is huge and already has an abundance of carrots, tomatoes, cabbage, spinach and other leafy greens, watermelon, onions, corn, and so much more! The soil is incredibly fertile and we are close to a stream and a pond so for once, access to water is not the huge issue it normally is. 

So, that is the majority of the updates! Check out the link to see some exciting pictures of all the work! 

Also, SUBSCRIBE to our youtube page! We have awesome videos of the construction of the additions to the St Laurent Nursery School (the library, the play structure, etc..) and Hero Home and coming soon, there will even be Swahili tutorials for anyone wanting to learn a little Swahili! 

We are so excited for the future and so relieved to be in a position where we finally feel like we are moving FORWARD.. not standing still or going backwards, but progressing forwards. We absolutely could not have done it without your support and for that we will be forever grateful! We ask that you continue to believe in us until we can become completely self-sufficient, which will take time, but will happen!! 

THANK YOU SO MUCH from all of us at Hero Home!!!

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

A Learning Experience



Once again, it’s been a while since the last update… but that just means there is even more to update you on.
For the last few weeks, I’ve been busy collecting footage for what I  hope will become some enlightning or at least interesting documentaries.  It’s been an eye opening and at times heart wrenching experience for me, and that’s saying a lot considering I’ve been coming to East Africa for the last 8 years.  I like to think I’m pretty used to living in Tanzania and don’t get too shaken by anything any more.  Things that others might be amazed by are just everyday events for me.  I also used to think I’m pretty hearty.  I can carry heavy cement bricks with boys in the village.  I can carry 20L of water on my head with the mamas (alright, so they do it with out hands and without spilling but we both make it to the end).   However, yesterday, I met my match and it broke my heart. 

So, one of the documentaries I’m making is based on the viral video we made last year called “ThirdWorld Problems Read by First World People.” If you haven’t seen it, definitely check it out!   For the documentary, I decided to take five of the problems from the video and show actual people who live with those specific problems and how they confront them.  I interviewed them and then followed them around as they completed daily activities.  Most of them are good friends of mine and it was really interesting to get to know them on an even deeper level.  One of the problems from the video is “I hate it when I have to walk 10km to school each way.”  Watching the video, you might think this is an exaggeration, but I assure you it is not.  15 year old Beata does precisely that, five days a week.  Yesterday, she agreed to let me follow her around for a day and even after living here for over 8 years, the experience was more overwhelming than I ever could have imagined.

So, let me take you through our day.

I woke up at 4am to pack up my camera gear and be at her house for 5am.  I biked to her house without seeing another human being, just me, a couple of stray dogs and millions of stars.  I got there for 5am and she was already awake and getting ready.  She had a quick shower under the stars using a small bucket and probably much less than 5L of water.  She got all dressed in her school uniform, grabbed her notebooks and with a full bags and empty bellies (yup, not a bite of food or a drop of water for either of us), we were out the door.  The time was 549am.  There is something not right about starting your day before the sun starts hers, but off we went.  Her older sister joined us for the first 20 minutes and then turned off and carried on to her school which is only about 5km away.  We kept walking.  After 20 minutes on the main paved road, we turned off down a dirt road to get to her school.  The school is right beside where our old land was so it is a route I’m familiar with.. but on my bike, not on foot.   As we turned on to the dust road we said good bye to the stars and the sun, the hot sweaty sun, joined us for the rest of the journey.  

We walked, we chatted, we laughed, we walked some more.  Then we walked some more.  We were passed by some students on bikes and some other walkers joined us along the way.  We arrived at school at 806am.  In case you forgot, we left the house at 549am.  As we arrived, all the students were lined up outside for the morning announcements.  We joined the line, listened to the announcements and then all students headed inside.  We had barely sat down, only to be called outside again.  Apparently, completely unbeknownst to me, we had arrived late and therefore we were punished.  PUNISHED!  Off we marched to see the head teacher to hear our fate.  After being counted off, all the late students were handed a slasher (a long piece of metal used for cutting grass) and sent out to the field to be assigned a location to cut grass.  

I  was lost for words!  Or rather, I wasn’t, I had tons of words to say… but it didn’t matter what I had to say because nothing was going to help!  It didn’t matter that we got up at 5am.  It didn’t matter that we left the house in the dark.  It didn’t matter we walked over 2 hours to get there.  Students are expected to arrive at 700am and we arrived at 806am.  I honestly wanted to scream… “this is not fair!” It made me think of all the times I heard students back home say “it’s not fair!” If only they knew!  Beata in stuck in an impossible situation!  There is no way that she can walk to school and make it there for 7am.  It would mean walking up at 4am and leaving at 5am and that’s just not safe.  No parent would allow their 15 year old daughter to leave the house at 5am.  There are thieves, rapists, bad guys, boogey monsters and if that is not bad enough, there are hyenas.  It’s just not possible!  So that means, every morning, during her 2 hour walk to school, Beata knows that at the end of the road, there is a punishment waiting for her.  Sometimes it is cutting grass, sometimes it is carrying water, sometimes it is going to the neighbouring farms and gathering manure (that’s the polite way of saying picking up cow dung), sometimes it is making mud bricks by hand, and sometimes it just a straight up, good old fashion caning.  Every morning, Beata gets punished, the only variable lies in the type of punishment.  IT’S NOT FAIR! I experienced it one day and was outraged, but Beata, at 15, just looked at me and said in her quiet, innocent voice, “it’s ok, I’m used to it.”   

So, she was assigned her location to cut and was sent back to class with the rest of the late students, many of whom had walked many kilometres just to get there.  The grass cutting would be done later in the day so they did not miss out on their studies. Back in the class, Beata got out her notebooks and began reading her notes.  It was the first day back after a week of mid-term holidays and teachers were still getting ready so the students did independent study in the classroom.  That’s my polite way of saying not a single teacher made it to class to teach!

At 1040am, the students got a break and Beata picked up for slasher and headed out to the field to get her punishment over.  In her left hand, she was tightly holding a piece of material.  I asked her what she was holding, turns out it was some candies I had given her at the start of the journey.  She explained that if she left them in the classroom, they would be eaten.  For the 20 minute break, candies tight in one hand, a slasher in the other, she cut away at the long, dry, thorny grass in the hot sun while other students rested in the shade or the lucky ones bought tea, bananas or candies to ward off some of the hunger pains.  At 11am, Beata returned to class for more independent study as still not a single teacher had come to teach.  

At 230pm, the students gathered for the closing ceremonies and then we began our walk home, up hill, in the blazing afternoon sun!  We left school at 240pm.   We walked, we talked with classmates, we practiced our multiplications, we laughed, we walked in silence, we sweated, and we kept walking.  We got to Kisesa at 443pm.  Our bellies were still empty, our mouths parched, and now our backs were nice and sweaty.  For my own sake, we stopped at a shop to get some cold water, some sodas and a few biscuits to tide us over for the last 15 minutes of the walk to her house.  By the time we reached the door, the sun was already setting in the distance and there was less than 12 hours until Beata would be awake for the start of a new day.
Her mom met us at the door.  Beata got changed out of her school clothes and we sat down to some tea, rice and a few pieces of meat.  (likely cooked because of me, which makes me feel a more than a little guilty).  We ate, and chatted with her mom is who an absolutely wonderful lady and who, at 38, looks not a day over 30 despite having three kids, the old who is 22 and already has a four year old and a 1 year old.  After eating, Beata went outside to wash dishes and play with her niece and nephew.  She still had to wash some clothes and then head to bed, hopefully before 9pm.

I took my bike and on tired legs, biked back to town… still overwhelmed… and sat down to just reflect on the day.  It was honestly beyond what I had imagined the day would be.  Walking over four hours only to be punished for something that is out of your control….

While at the school, I talked to the teacher handing out the punishment and tried to explain to him what Beata had gone through just to get to school.  He said he understood her situation as when he started teaching at the school, he was biking 20k each way to get there.  The problem is work needs to be done and there certainly is not a budget to hire a groundsman or a janitor.  There is not a budget for books so groundsmen is definitely low on the priority list.  So, as a result, the students are required to do the work… and the students who unfortunately cannot comply with the rules, carry the brunt of the load.  His explanation did not make me feel any better... if anything just more discouraged.  He explained that many of the students that live closer to the school drop out early on as they and their parents have yet to see the value in getting an education and prefer to continue working on the farm.     

The problem is so complex, that there is no easier answer, no easy solution.  The government cannot afford to build enough schools to accommodate all the students or for that matter, maintain the schools that are already built.  The teachers are paid low wages which means they do not see teaching as a career but simply a way to put food on the table and as a result, many do not have the necessary education or the motivation to teach the future generation.  The parents cannot afford to send their kids to private schools so they need to rely on the government schools which, as I already explained, are few and far between.  All of this leads to high drop out rates which means the future generation is uneducated and unable to develop the country.  Another huge issue is the high pregnancy rates.  Many of the young students are being approached by male, either students or males in the community and being offered money or gifts, in return for sex... and when you are walking 4 hours on an empty belly, you are definitely prone to make decisions would not make on fresh legs and a full belly.  It is hard to see the hope in the situation… to believe that things will get better.    

So, basically that was my day yesterday.  It was a lot to take in.  Like I said at the start, I used to think I was somewhat hearty, but Beata put me to shame.  And to think, she is doing that five days a week, for the next four years.  So, it is only a band-aid to a larger problem, but I am buying Beata a bike today.  I know there are tons of students like her out there and many who live in worse situations and likely some who walk even farther.. and I know I cannot help all of them and I know the problem lies deeper than a simple bike.. but at least one bike can help one student..  and who knows what that can lead to! I have to believe there is hope either wise I am not sure how I will get up in the morning.

So, that was just one of the five people featured in the short documentary.  I’ll be screening the documentary on Saturday, November. 30th at beautiful West End Cultural Centre in Winnipeg, MB as part of LISTEN LOCAL! GROW GLOBAL!, the 4th annual benefit concert in support of GO!.  If you are in the area, please come check it out.  The night will also feature Jesse Lewis an amazing HYPNOTIST whose sole job is mesmerize your friends and convince them to donate all their money to GO! (just joking..maybe), amazing musical acts including emerging artist, 18 year old Elsa Kaka, and a second short documentary that shows how Tanzanians are taking what would otherwise be considered garbage and with a little creativity and ingenuity making long-lasting, amazing products!  And of course, as always, we will have awesome raffle prizes to be won!! If you have been at the concerts in the past you know that it is a great night and as always, all the money goes to support a good cause!  Tickets are $20 in advance, $23 at the door and this year, there are group rates! Why not get your team mates, co-workers, friends, and family together to celebrate the holidays while support a great cause! Buy 10 tickets and get one free.  Buy 25 tickets and get 5 free! 

Hope everyone is doing well! I'm back on Oct. 23 and look forward to catching up!