Toilets and stuff

We had to have our toilet seen to this week, an intermittent flush. We tolerated it for a while and then I had a major stamp the feet moment one night and we both new that a plumber would be required and soon.If you live in our area and need a plumber I now have one I would be happy to recommend. Our little boy was kind of anxious about him coming. I am not sure exactly what image "plumber" had conjured up in his mind but he looked mighty relieved when he arrived in a normal van, with a big smile and friendly chat, and he was, of course, mighty impressed by anyone that can fix things with a wrench and a hammer.

During our six months in Dodoma we had an intermittently flushing toilet. It flushed when the water was on and did not when it was not. Sometimes it was just off for four or five hours and other times much longer. On one occasion it was off for about two weeks as a major piece was missing from the town system and needed ordered from who knows where, probably a neighbouring country. We ran extremely low in our water supplies, huge barrels in the house and had to pit the barrels in the land rover and drive up to the Bible college a couple of miles up the road. They had their own well and were delighted to let us fill our containers. That is the Bible college where my parents are currently staying and teaching.

Across the road was an AOG church and many wonderful folks who became firm friends. They lived in a dry and dusty area where very little was grown. Cathy went home from that group and her ATC group raised a whole heap of cash that allowed that church to sink a well. We returned two years later and a dry and dusty area had been transformed into a wonderful vegetable garden. There was food and income right there!!

On my third trip to Tanzania we had no flushing toilet, just wonderfully constructed wooden platforms and the rest I leave to your imaginations. Actually, it is hugely preferable to a non flushing disgusting toilet any day! The village we stayed in had no plumbing at all. Each morning our water for the day arrived on the heads of a group of women from the village. That was hugely humbling and when we returned from making mud bricks, an incredibly dirty process obviously, we tumbled into "shower blocks" wooden partitions and bathed in a small bucketful of water. There was no complaining. That water had travelled miles, and I do mean miles, at a great cost to someone else. I also have to confess here that when I asked for my bucket, it was always hot. Hey! Don't tell the others! Some of them may only have had the occasional warm bucket. Leader privileges. I just smiled and said a very big "Asante sana!!".

This week, I dug out my canvas shoes from last year. They were still in pretty good nick and I am not into wasting anything. I wore them for a couple of days and then took them off one night in the living room to a fairly major reaction from Mike. My feet were possibly not the sweetest smelling things. Some things just maybe need to hit the bin. Can you imagine how our canvas shoes smelled after six months in Tanzania with very little else to wear and in high temperatures. Gill (my roommate) and I, had an agreement that they would never be brought into our room. For the life of me I cannot recollect where we left them. Big ol' nasty cockroaches were always a toe crunching hazard. On the last day in Dodoma Gill took her nasty shoes and had a bit of a dumping ceremony, leaving them outside by the fire for our guards to burn up. (As wazungus, white folks, we needed guards on our house to protect us from armed gangs. They would have been dreadfully disappointed as we did not even have furniture beyond a table and eight chairs in the house.) We were completely gobsmacked later to see one of the guards wearing those nasty ol' shoes, looking totally chuffed with himself at his new aquisition.
As I said Tanzania taught me a lot about maladjustment.