If one takes a look at the most visited countries in Africa, Tanzania is not in the Top 10 list. Neither is it in the top 10 richest African countries. On the other hand, the country has reached political stability but has not reached a wealthy state. The last time Tanzania was involved in a war was about 40 years ago as of today, and stability is here to stay. The country is home to Africa's highest peak as well as three of Africa’s largest lakes. The amount of natural wonders gathered into such a small place is significant. The country is poor; most people live in harsh conditions and there are wonderful landscapes and sceneries. For this reason I decided to go explore and live an adventure with these people.

My road trip through Tanzania started in Dar Es Salam and I am rolling inland towards the west. At some point, once I reach the capital, Dodoma, I will head north towards the frontier with Kenya, where I will start my next adventure, which will follow up in another post. For the time being, my current stop is Morogoro, a small town of about 200K inhabitants. At first sight the city is calm and it resembles nothing more than a big human settlement. In the mornings the people start their lives tranquil, and during the nights the city is calm too. This town lies at the base of the Uluguru Mountain chain, which is also a National Park. The people in this town look poor; most of them live with what they have therefore the people spend most of their time in the streets. Morogoro is no different from any Tanzanian town, so they are having issues with the water supply and this is bringing quite a lot of diseases. The lack of healthcare can be witnessed at first sight. There are a lot of amputees, sick, crippled and infected. The resources are limited and the money is never enough to fix a country with so many issues starting from health, economy and education. But this context is not new in Africa; it is very common and as a whole it represents the living conditions of about 80% of the world’s population. Morogoro has an advantage with the rest of the smaller towns in the country. This is the fact that lies in between Dodoma, the capital, and the largest city, Dar Es Salam. This brings some cash flow to the town.

Morogoro experiences all the rural problems of a developing country where children are by far the most affected. Here on average each woman has 4,.83 children. They are raised by a society which cannot provide the basic needs of a child: health, food, education and entertainment. Most of the children work at young ages and suffer from malnutrition. 

I paid special attention to children on my trip to this part of the world. It seems to me that, in the misery they live, they make up a whole different world with their imaginations. They are not unhappy. They suffer from an unfair world, but their innocence and energy displace the hardship of their living environments. I have seen diseased children, with encephalitis, missing limbs, hunger, malformations and a lot of malnutrition. On the other hand I haven’t seen a kid cry or complain. 

Within the whole package of problems that affect children directly is the orphanhood. This is due to parents not being able to support them, the lack of access to education or even death of the parents. In some areas the situation sees an aggravation due to the widely-spread AIDS epidemic. Also, there is a lack of orphanages that supply the needs of these children. The diverse Christian Churches across Tanzania take care of both education, healthcare and raising of some of these children. The big faith of Tanzanians in God provides them with the necessary courage by helping one another and spreading the spirit of mercy. Although the role of the Church in the biggest cities is not as critical, in the rural “disconnected” areas is key since it fills the gap of the basic needs. This originated years ago with the first German and British Christian missions to the area and now, even though they are gone, the spirit remains. The role and impact of the Church in Tanzania’s charity system is undisputed based on the fact that it saves the state a lot of money and feeds the most unfortunate.

Shortly after arriving in Morogoro, I met Justo, a young local man that works in a parish in the suburbs of the town. I met him while walking around the parish and he, open to talk to a white man, started a conversation with me and my companion. Justo was a man in his late 20s that helped the evangelical parish. He was a humble man with a Nokia phone and an old smartphone, wearing a bright orange Nike shirt, light long pants and leather black shoes. He always had a slim smile on his face which invited conversation. He looked relaxed, thoughtful and full of precaution. He knew how to listen, appreciated and analyzed every single word coming out of my mouth. 

His role in the parish was undefined but his affection for the children was clear. Around the parish there were some children with which I got to spend some time with. While being with the children, Justo offered to meet the next day to attend the Sunday festivity with him. Then, after the celebration he would take us uphill into the forest through the Uluguru Mountains. The plan seemed exciting and just the idea of going through the jungle with some locals was so appealing to me. 

After departing the Evangelical Church, where we met Justo, we headed towards another Church. They were doing a celebration, where I managed to sneak in at the last row. It caught my eye that, even though this was probably one of the poorest areas in Morogoro, the people there were from different social status, like a middle aged man with a nice suit and his family, who sat next to a construction worker with dirt stains on his vest. People of all ages packed the big Church, which by the way, was pretty plain and simple, and not as crowded with the symbolism that we are used to in the western world. I stayed for 20 minutes and was able to listen to an amazing chant. 

Later, I went around the Church building and I discovered that the whole complex was a school. In the nearest building the nuns were cooking in high quantities. They were using a huge pot over a fire, which suggested that they were cooking for the schoolchildren. Behind this building there was an orchard extending further away from my sight. Two highly disciplined kids walked by at a coordinated pace and looked at me with shyness and curiosity, but never slowed their pace. I followed the direction in which they were going. There was a soccer field where the dry grass grew poorly in between the red dirt. Further past the soccer field there was a group of single-floored buildings. They were the classrooms. Most of them were in run-down condition. The buildings were old and full of cracks. Most walls were unpainted and only the most used ones were in relatively good shape. No windows had glass; instead a metal net of bars was placed. This is common practice in Tanzania.

There were two playgrounds separated by one of these long single-story buildings (the math classroom). The scholars had two different playgrounds: one for the older, and one for the younger. In each, they were separated by sex. There was an invisible line in between that suggested that the mixing between them was not allowed. They looked happy and intrigued by my presence. There was no soccer ball or toys to play with but they looked extraordinarily calm. They were behaving like a group of adults at an after-work dinner.  Soon my presence attracted the eyes of all the children and I could sense some humor in the air. I was approached by their supervisor and I asked him a few questions. He confirmed that the boys and girls were not allowed to mix. I asked him if fights were common at school. To my surprise, fights were a completely uncommon event. Soon smiles, jokes and high-fives started to arise, thus I thought that I might be disturbing the peace more than I should. I left accompanied by one of the teachers. He was a humble, happy man in his mid 30s. He listened so carefully to all my words but rarely made eye contact. I could see that he was excited to use his English skills with me. He offered to show me the whole school, place by place. He was so willing to show me more but it was late, and I had a long way back home to the other side of town. He accompanied me to the exit and asked me to come back again.

While walking home I thought of how lucky these children were to be able to go to such a school. It was a privilege for them to be there and the most astonishing thing was that I sensed their awareness. It was a common denominator across all ages from 6 to 17 years old. The serenity, calmness and smiles of these children while living in this country with so little opportunities and in poor conditions taught me another lesson. Life taught these people to separate misery and happiness. So why wouldn't we westerners be able to do so with less misery?

We woke up very early to see the sunrise over the town and prepare ourselves for the jungle hike. But before, we would stop by the church and spend some time with Justo and the small school. When we arrived at the parish they were celebrating Mass, and we were welcomed instantly inside. After this Justo took me outside to an annex building in the parish. It was a classroom and some kids were playing around. He told me that it was a little school where he taught them during the weekdays. The children were orphans and Justo was in charge of them. He took me to a corner, by the window of the classroom, and lowering his voice told me that one day he wants to build an orphanage in Morogoro. But for now, he is very young and inexperienced. He asked me all sorts of questions, for which most of them I did not have a reply. All I could tell him was the basics, such as things the children need: good teachers, discipline, very big open areas for playing and relaxing and a nice warm environment. In order to start his project, he already had bought a lot of land in the north of the town. During the talk he asked me if I knew any way of sponsoring his project. I assured him all I could do was to include his contact on my website. So should you be interested in economically or physically helping Justo make the orphanage, here is his contact information. I am confident this man will one day manage to make this project. 

Justo: +255 689371922 or +255 767146490.

During the talk I noticed that some kids were fighting over who got to hold my hand. For them it was cool, I guess, to have full control over Muzungu. I soon realized that my hands were being kidnapped by these kids. Once again these orphans didn’t look sad and hit by the cruelty and unfairness that life gave them. Things looked simple to them; there were no workarounds and they looked tough and super cheerful. 

Soon after spending some time with the kids Justo took us to his house, a small dark hut in the suburbs of Morogoro. It was made of bricks, there was no floor, and it was pretty small in height. The toilet of his house was just a hole at the end of the corridor, and it was filled with artifacts such as a broken bike and an old analog TV. There was a hole in a wall that acted as a lamp, and lit part of the interior towards the end of the corridor. The house was a mess and the only furniture suffered from a negligent state. Justo changed his clothes to a more hiking-friendly outfit. In the area, some kids were playing soccer against the walls of other huts. Once again the kid's eyes shone bright when they saw a muzungu. There was even more excitement when Muzungu started playing with them. Shortly after, Justo showed us a store where he sold various items, it was his side business. The store was just a stand by the road. He opened it for us to see. He sold eggs, candy, lottery tickets, basic kitchen material and conducted overseas money transfers. Then he took us to a local eating house in the nearby area. The area didn’t look safe at all, especially for a white man, but I knew the intentions of this man were good so I trusted him and went through. While walking around the area, Justo would tell his stories and all his life plans while I asked him more and more questions.

Later that afternoon we were passing through villages in the mountains towards the jungle. The villagers looked at me amazed as if a rare phenomenon was happening. They would stop what they were doing, and they would look at me with eyes locked. Some even waved and smiled. These people didn’t have anything, and it was clear to me at that moment that Justo’s house was a privilege. They couldn’t afford having a hut like his. They were the isolated lower class living between four brick walls with metal sheet ceiling. It seemed to me that misery overtook their daily lives. But again, I didn't see bad eyes or sadness. Still, could that be due to the exceptionality of my presence? I kept asking myself that question over and over again. I wanted to know about them and see what they see. But I guess that isn’t possible for me. 

By the end of the day I felt overwhelmed by everything. It was getting dark, and darkness is not a time to be in the jungle. We arrived home late and had to allow all the ideas settle down.

Before falling asleep, I gave some cold thoughts to the day. First of all, I thought that I have to be more thankful for what I have. The places I visited were the perfect image of a continent sogged in misery. The whole population is affected. The old ones are aware; whereas the young ones are innocent. I didn’t see anger nor hear complaints from anyone. All I heard was eagerness for better change. I realized how important and impactful the role of the Catholic Church is. How much we have forgotten and departed from it’s values in the West. How arrogant we are becoming by neglecting it and turning our head to the other side while the Church has given us so much. How miserable and unlucky our lives could be, yet still, so worthy when we add hope and faith to the equation. I am aware that the situation of Tanzania and all of the countries included in the “African Problem” will not be solved anytime soon. It is not solved by money or politics. In my opinion, it is a matter of slow cultural change that will come with the next couple of hundred of years. But as of now the big lesson was that misery in the presence of God, still brings happiness.

For now, while heading west to inland Africa, I am looking forward to discover more of the culture and mature my thoughts. I am excited to discover what are the lessons and experiences that lay ahead of me.