JAMBO!! Everything wonderful here!!! Outside a rumbling of thunder, a steady file of school children making their way along the side of the road, blue skirts and white shirts, a slim pack slung across their shoulders, a herd of goats passing by a little guy running along dragging a cardboard carton on a rope, Tanzania toy.

It is very hot...jotto sana....and humid...We opened Sunday!! Huruma....Saturday, Charles and i driving as fast as we can to Arusha, racing through town jammed with traffic and on to Kilimanjaro to meet Matt, Bill and Ian coming 17 hours by air from Pennsylvania to see for themselves Huruma....did i tell you all this? maybe..i had never met them, never set eyes on them before Saturday night. Charles and i imagining, what do they look like? Tall, with glasses, brown hair, no white, skinny, short?...we are standing at the window watching the groupings, looking for three guys travelling together and soon they are here.... exhausted, disorientated yet raring to go...

We pile the pickup to the top and more with bags, bags filled with goodies for the kids, three of us squeeze into the back, with Ian who is a lovely tall gentle giant of a man reminding me of Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird..he is a birder too..ga ga over the flocks filled with ten different species everytime he goes out, birds he had never seen. Matt, who has that magic it takes to take an idea and make this huge leap, reminds me of the actor in The Last King of Scotland, craggy, and smart, insisting he knows very little but what I know he knows is his great passion, i for life, business, people, ideas...it is incredible finally to meet this man I h ave been communicating with for only a couple of weeks..and his friend, Bill. I am lying sleeplessly in bed thinking of who these guys remind me of and for Bill, i would say Philip Seymour Hoffman...blonde, not too tall, and incredible curious and fascinated with everything...with the gift of gab, the first day obsessing as i would be, with getting his three cell phones up and working locally...communication trying, a day later he could finally text and communicate with his wife, two days later he managed to post one picture of himself on facebook looking at bananas! They are wonderful, these three, so much to say about the easy way we all connected with each other, and i know everyone down in their town in Penn is probably reading this, but to you all, you know how they are!

Matt's enthusiasm and support for this project has helped me so much in times without internet, without Swahili, without connection with family and friends, calling with arrangement, every few nights.

Arusha. Naaz Hotel, a Kilimanjaro beer, a nice talk and 12 hours sleep later....Doris, director of ICA TANZ....breakfast, relaxed, what is this ICA?? I was asking just that three years ago when i first arrived into Zimbabwe...HIV AIDS focussed, awareness, prevention, testing, counselling....education for Masai girls, HIV AIDS positive groups, ventillation projects inside Masai cow dung huts with fireplaces and chimneys, respiratory and eye diseases, orphanages and little kids the most poor and vulnerable in the world, alone, without mamas and papas....maybe a very old grandmama who can't work, can't see, hobbling along with the little ones making her way for help, food, eaking out bare substance. ICA (Institute of Cultural Affairs) tries to guide people into helping themselves, offering a forum for people to understand for themselves their needs, and how to manage them, how to move forward working at the very lowest grass route level..hands on, to the people most needing help. Doris weaves the story of how she started ICA TANZ...a university degreee at Carlton, Ottawa, a govt job she quit...a big leap forward, and now for the last 12 years, a growing successful small but so effective NGO....

WE pack up and make our way through markets of Arusha Town, hot, dusty, busy...mobbed outside our hotel, working our way to the truck, but in the market men and women buying, selling, carrying pots, bags of rice, maize on their heads, their posture is remarkable. Beautiful to look at people,each one. Someone said it is hard not to stare. I am seeing it all newly through their eyes and loving it. It is so easy being with these guys..Charles always guiding, directing, forging ahead..without him,we all know..the level of comfort would excelerate dramatically. A culture so hugely different from anything else.

Trouble at the ATM but we manage to eject a little and now speeding along the asphalt highway toward Mto WA Mbu, we see a small grouping of giraffes hiding behind huge thorn bushes at the side of the road, a treat. The landscape is like none other... wide open range of rolling hills, parched now for lack of rain, the Rift Valley mountains in the distance, Masai huts in clusters in the colour of the land, Masai tribal people in full traditional dress wandering along the road, managing herds of cattle, goats, carrying sticks...

i have written of this so often before,their bright red and purple sheets flowing, tall, slim, elegant, proud.

Tired and hungry when we hit Mto WA Mbu....head straight to the Double M, the cool hot dusty bar along the main strip of town, red plastic chairs and tables, commotion and busy with farmers, Masai, African life...a metal tray of rice, greens, beans and tomatoe/onion sauce...served by my friend Dotto, the second twin, delicious, fresh, healthy...heading by foot now across a row of women selling bananas, red, yellow, brown, big and small, we have to try them all, and head down past the First and Last Bar across a muddy pitted walkway to the office, women cooking outside in big metal woks, okra, beans, onions, lunch, African music blasting. Unload the truck suitcases filling my office, drop our bags off at my guest house..and on to HURUMA..there is no time to stop.

These guys are in a daze but holding up well....culture shock, huge, too much to take in at once, and so so tired. First stop the original orphanage where we found those little kids a year ago, the little dark room, in the foyer of the house, Limo's....I am not sure what they are thinking..photos...the place is empty now that we've moved the kids on, but for a few little ones straggling around barefoot in faded torn rags, peaking around crumbling cement corners, dry parched land, hardened with the sun. Some with nerve appear in bunches, Ian is the photographer..they giggle, hide behind each other, and love having their picture taken.

A day later in the safari bus, Bill is taking shots of elephants a few feet away, the kids more interested in his viewfinder than out the window, huge wide black eyes, coy, smiling.

Back into the truck and on the same road, the new house. Charles sent invitations but i had no idea what to expect.

Having trouble again with my sound on my video camera, Bill takes over....we sit on a wooden bench along the side of the house and fiddle with it, dead quiet outside, no kids in sight...two rows of bougainvillea freshly planted in new red soil hauled down the mountains of Kiratu, deep trenches dug across the entire front, a wire fence to be built to embrace flowers. Next year I dream of patchwork in purple, hot pink, red....climbing six feet across the expanse of the house. The front door is open, we are ushered into the main space. Me, i am overwhelmed, two big rooms filled with people beautifully dressed in gorgeous colour, clean and pressed, the local village leaders lined up behind one table, Huruma staff along another, the owner of the house blown away by what we have done...chairs set up and filled with smiling people - a place for us at head table, cokes, fanta, water in little circles along rows of tables set here and there atop clean and very new blue and green bed sheets.

WE sit down, and for the next hour, speaches, everyone thanking everyone,over and over, in Swahili...dreams and visions of this orphanage, what it can be..warnings of corruption, dishonesty, lack of openness...we have had experiences before.. 45 little bodies quietly wedged across little desks right in the next room barely making a sound, unimaginable back home.

I wished the kids were part of this...we couldnt' see them; we could only hear bits and pieces until they were released, flooding out the big garage doors of the classroom filing across the front lawn of the house. WE are dying inside of heat and Swahili. Bill is clever, setting up the tripod outside, the kids lined up across the lawn singing loudly and sweetly Twinkle twinkle little star. The ceremony with speaches is important. African style. Formal, British. The acknowledging of each other, each person with a role to play, the village leaders prominent, taking on the role of 'owner's of the orphanage, the government invited to be responsible for the daily comings and goings, the well being of the children, the staffing, the hiring and firing...it is done beautifully here, when it works..

The kids moved in Friday...we've had two days of being a family. Who would sleep in what rooms? I sit with the matron Glory - teacher by day, and treasurer Martha responsible for looking after the kids too...room by room we make a list of who sleeps where....I am insisting that this is the beginning only; if this arrangment of babies sleeping with matron whose shelving is stacked with huge bags of rice, maize, buckets and cans of cooking oil, keroscene, spoons, 50 little bowls, plates..her room locked with the key in her pocket. Theft prevention paramount. If it doesn't work, this is their house, they can change it.

Scheduling. What kids go to primary school, ten of them, in uniforms, with clean shoes, what time? a couple of miles down the road...breakfast, a corn meal porriage with milk and sugar for 45 kids, 8 staff, a banana and bun donut. Pre schoolers...17 or so living in, and 15 arriving for breakfast, lunch and dinner, sleeping out with a relative or parent, lucky enough to have the means. The live ins have no one, and nothing. They arrive with the rags on their back.

The next day we head out on safari, but first to the office to open up the first batch of suitcases, searching for underwear, shoes, new shirts, skirts, a little levi OSH Gosh dress for baby Pendo, Sabina, our ICA social worker holding her gently on the bus telling me how beautiful she looks, her baby Pendo..just like a well dressed American girl...and she is. Boys sticking dirty little feet into pink rubber clogs and dancing across the open courtyard, new shorts with a little rubber giraffe hidden inside the pocket,the big black eyes wide, wondering, wow!! A tee shirt with superman. Ian is the photographer, taking pics as each kid emerges from my office, new clothes,new pants, underwear, dresses, shoes, we are clapping and they are mighty proud.

Back to the opening...Ian pulls out three red juggling balls and throws a show unlike any other, Bill taking pictures, Matt presenting a big black suitcase filled with dolls, little cars, toys...he turns around, what do we do with it! Well i don't know...so he pulls it down at kid level and they sweep and dive in like vultures...
March 08/09...Huruma..the only orphanage centre in the area....opened finally after a year of reno to a grand start.

Nothing ever starts perfectly of course and we are learning..the balance here is to provide, arrange in the background, and assist a little....this is one big family, with mamas and papas and babies and a little girl called Jennifer coming down with malaria on day three..off to the hospital for medication, and today there were three sick ones crashed in one little room at the back, maybe the sick room from now on...making our way slowly.

There are misunderstandings, little power struggles, control issues,who is responsible for what and when...i have no idea how to run an orphanage, none of us do, but day by day it is coming together...everyone pulling their weight.

My dream is a collective,where everyone is equal, giving the cooks and cleaners as much status as the director, the chair...works for some, not for all! Each day, meetings, transparency, open forums for speaking from our hearts and minds, with most everyone managing beautifully, our main goal to help the children. Can you imagine how it is for them?

But today, jumping around, after lunch, after showers, the little girls are running around their big room with towels wrapped around their waists...laughing, jumping on the beds....playing....i peak through the window...they all say WOW!! Which is what i am saying everytime i visit this place. WOW!!

Our visitors...a big dinner specially prepared by Adela the woman who cleans at ICA...a big dish in the middle of the table filled with chicken, okra, beans, potatoes, carrots, sauces and i dont' know what else, called chupa....beer, sodas... the end of a huge but great day....

Safari Monday....we rent a big white bus with HOLLYWOOD across the front in huge lettering, filled with 35 little ones age 6 and down....we are all jammed in, Matt in the middle at the back surrounded by kids - his wife made him promise one thing and one thing only, that he couldn't bring home a child....! Ian up front, we see three lionesses stalking, hunting, sitting, waiting, with cubs climbing trees a little bit away under tall grasses, almost never seen in this park, we are lucky. OSTriches, an elephant comes very close to the bus, his huge ears waving in and out, in and out...a fake ploy, it is when they huge the head sleekly you need to worry, ready for the dash....Zebra, hippos...flamingoes....giraffe..my favourite, so graceful....i am remembering those two jammed into the van.

Bill behind Ian...next to the bus mechanic cradling a sick child gently.

Lake Manyara just outside Mto WA Mbu....the best safari to begin, and then on to the Serengeti and NGORA crater..there is nothing like it!

After lunch, the children drop one by one, row after row of limp sleeping children, and then with the rough road, bumping and lurching along, the sickness begins here and there..many of these kids have never been in a car before!

Pendo, next to me on Sabina's lap, murmering mama, mama..she has found her own.

Days merge into nights. Meetings, beer, dinner at my friend Miriam's Mi Casa, we try ugali, the local staple made of maize flower and water...balled up in the right hand, you make a spoon like trough in the ball and dip it into tomatoe onion carrot sauces, or greens, pieces of chicken, beef, goat...all done with the right hand. Someone comes by before and after the meal with a big plastic bowl, pouring hot water with a bit of soap from a pitcher onto your hands for washing. Always the cleanliness, in clothing, freshly washed and ironed, hands, dazzling coiffed hair, unless you are very poor.

They leave after breakfast Wednesday.
WE head into a six hour meeting with Huruma staff: reviewing roles, rules and policies...nine of us in a circle in Charles small office, a bit of a breeze blowing through, ....a forum to reveal stories, ideas, dreams, concrete issues..mostly i try to remain positive, bringing out the impossible greatness of what they have created....little issues: the things we bought for the kitchen, maybe a little overpriced...easy to fool me, but with Charles, Peter from Uganda....and Elias..the baba, or daddy of the children removed from that first corrupt orphanage i wrote about a few weeks ago, 14kids...he and his wife Tabia...going from none, to this number, and managing marvellously, they are teaching me so many things. With these guys, i am learning,
so fortunate to have such a team...each one honest, filled with heart and love, a lot of laughter, learning, smart, experienced, loving, what can i say..i am one lucky woman running around with four great guys....the only muzunga, white woman, around....hey!!

So so much more to say...and no time....
Matt,Ian and Bill get back from safari tomorrow...Friday a day in the Masai chief's boma with his family way out in the middle of the most beautiful country, rolling hills, mountains, with no one anywhere around, Masai roaming the land with livestock... adorned in beads, flowing sheets of colour...they walk everywhere, no electricity, no water, and yet most have cell phones..the only way to connect, texting, cheaply in Africa....everyone has one...

Seanna and Sierra arrive Friday night...8:30, on the once a day KLM flight coming in from Amsterdam...their second visit...Seanna taking university courses in African history, pre and post colonialism....Peter, our student from Uganda, so knowledgeable, so approachable, outgoing...i cant' wait for them to share stories...Sierra will love it..the kids at Huruma...Pambazuka....swimming...

more more more later...sleepless excited nights, tired, but so hugely fulfilled..as i said before and keep saying, WOW!!
and before i close...today I am unpacking those suitcases jammed into my little office, not one inch of floor space...opening them up one at a time, we are in shock! The girl's clothing stacks so high, that i have to make two huge piles,the boys too...underwears,sox...suitcases of world maps, number and alphabet charts, flip cards..crayons, pencils, sharpeners, 6 big binders, dividers, the hole punch, three ringed, different from two rings here....what else!! shoes for the WORLD!! every colour and size, for girls boys...hundreds of little shoes tossed into the corner to be sorted out next...little sizes, medium and bigger...i am giving some to Pambazuka...with both orphanages now, we share....Elias, the baba, he helps me, I AM helping them....designing, floorplans, swimming and clothing...food....it works!!

so to Danene and everyone from the school she works at....everyone who has donated all these incredible things....school texts, books, exercise books...art materials, sizzors..offices supplies...the list goes on and on and on...big things, little things, bubbles too....my gawd!!
I thank you all so much...i hope it was as much fun for you to put this together, as it is for us to see all these things in action....Wow!!