A House for Books: Volunteering and Adventure in the Shadow of Kilimanjaro

By Mark Biernacki

The author's travels take him on a trip of cultural awareness and adventure while exploring northern Tanzania. During his time away from volunteering to help build libraries and school buildings, he immerses himself in the daily lives of the people, engages with a land teeming with wildlife while crossing the Serengeti, and embarks on an arduous climb in an attempt to summit Mount Kilimanjaro. During these adventures, he reflects on the impact he had become a part of in addressing the educational needs of the region's children. He learns about himself as he undertakes meaningful volunteer work and gains the satisfaction that he is helping make a tangible difference for the people in this far corner of the world. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Biernacki
• Release date: Jan 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386546146

Mark Biernacki

Mark Biernacki worked for various local governments throughout the United States as an urban planner and city manager before retiring after 33 years of public service. When not volunteering in his community, he and his wife, Mary Kay, travel the country and the world extensively. They currently reside near Chicago, Illinois. 

Book preview

PART I

THE FIRST VISIT

Chapter One

Bound for Nyegina

THE VAN’S STREAKED and pitted windows clouded my view of the dusty, dry, and people-filled plains of northwestern Tanzania as we traveled along the always bumpy and sometimes traffic-snarled B-6 highway. This two-lane road’s shoulders weren’t broad enough to contain the scores of people as they made their way from village to village. Vying for the narrow space were donkey-pulled carts and herds of goats and cattle. Women of all ages were carrying water jugs, firewood, and vegetables on the tops of their heads. Countless numbers of gaunt riders were hauling sugarcane, baskets with chickens inside, construction supplies, chairs, and various other odds and ends on their wobbly bicycles.

The sheer numbers of people, equipment, and animals overwhelmed the shoulders thereby forcing use of the road’s pavement itself. Our van’s driver weaved and dodged in and among this mix of man and beast. Other drivers from the opposite direction did the same. Hulking trucks and smoke-belching buses rushed by us with only inches separating their side view mirror from ours.

The six other volunteers that I shared the van with jostled and held on along with me as we headed four hours north from Mwanza’s basic and unsophisticated airport to Nyegina, a small village outside of Musoma at the Lake Victoria shoreline. All of us had signed on with Tanzania Development Support, a U.S. based non-governmental organization (NGO), which was partnering with other in-country organizations to construct the first phase of a library and community resource center in that remote village.

We were eager to arrive and meet up with Doctor Kurt, university professor and president of this NGO. He and his study abroad students had arrived a week earlier as part of their curriculum on international studies and language learning. He had been instrumental in bringing to this far flung corner of rural Tanzania a variety of educational facilities and programs to better the learning environment for the children in the region. He had been very successful in doing so. We were joining him in the hope that we could become a part of this success. Together with the students, we would constitute a labor force that would assist Nyegina villagers and hired contractors in the construction of this new library.

We also hoped to better educate ourselves about the cultural and natural environment of this developing country and the needs of the people who have so little to start with. While our participation in the construction of the library promised to be rewarding, many of us were also looking forward to our participation in these types of cultural immersion activities and experiences.

Meanwhile, we still had many hot and bone-jarring miles to go to reach our destination. To take our minds off of our discomfort, we took the time to reflect on what we had already experienced while being full of anticipation of what was still to come.

Map of northern Tanzania and southern Kenya.

I MET MY FELLOW VOLUNTEERS, some for the first time, 48 hours earlier at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport when we were boarding the first of several flights on our journey to Tanzania. Jeanine, Dan, Heidi, Tricia, and I are from Illinois. Jeanine is Kurt's wife and has done this trip several times before. Dan would be my roommate once we reached our final destination. Heidi is one of the architects who designed the library we will be building. Tricia is a board member of the NGO as well as a returning volunteer, having last been to Tanzania several years earlier. Carol and Helen, both from Wisconsin, round out the group. Except for Heidi, we were all in the 50 years plus age bracket.

Sharing in the rigors of travel allows one to get to know the others in ways you otherwise could not accomplish if attempted through more casual occasions. Our first test of endurance, and our continued courteousness and politeness toward each other, started with a long drive to the airport followed by a seven-hour flight to Amsterdam and the five-hour layover once there. A jammed packed plane then took us south to Nairobi for yet another seven-hour flight.

At this point, I had all of one hour of sleep after nearly 24 hours into our journey. All of my fellow well-rested travelers were up in the economy plus section of the plane enjoying the extra leg room that section offered. They certainly lucked out. None of them per-arranged their seat assignments before our departure, doing so only upon arrival at O'Hare back in Chicago. And for that, they received some pretty nice seats.

I, on the other hand, not leaving anything to chance and wanting to guarantee an aisle seat, made such arrangements months ago but paid for it dearly being that I was placed back in steerage. So much for advance planning. 

A two-hour layover at the Nairobi airport was made longer by some major mix-up in the airline’s paperwork. At this late hour, our patience was getting thin. The wait was getting intolerable. Somehow, though, we were all keeping it together. And this was even after putting up with how the local people have no concept of waiting one's turn in the queue at security. More and more people simply walked in front of where we were patiently and courteously waiting our turn. Even when challenged, they would simply stare at you, smile, and keep their now advantaged position in line.

Finally, we made it into the Kilimanjaro airport located midway between Moshi and Arusha, Tanzania. We met our driver, Mr. Moosh, who took us to our hotel for the evening. Along the way, he unabashedly sang along to the country and western music he was loudly playing on the van's radio. 

Soon, two armed men mysteriously appeared out of the brush and stood out on the darkened highway to stop us. They were carrying very old, yet menacing looking, automatic rifles. After a lengthy and animated discussion with Mr. Moosh, followed by a peek inside our van to see our American scared-like-huddled-sheep faces, they waved us off with a dismissive flick of their wrists. It was never made clear to us why were stopped and, more importantly, why we were allowed to proceed without incident.

Dead tired, my head hit the pillow at 2:00 a.m. Sleep came fitfully. With the barking dogs, mosquitoes buzzing my ears (they somehow overcame the defenses of my bed's netting), and the occasional roaring engine of trucks from out on the highway, I maybe slept for a total of two hours before the 6:30 a.m. wake-up call. 

Much to my dismay, the wake-up call came right on schedule. Our journey and transit were to continue. A bright and chipper, country and western singing Mr. Moosh directed us into the van and took us back to the Kilimanjaro Airport for our flight to Mwanza. 

Another travel snafu greeted us at the baggage check counter. We were now on the domestic portion of our series of flights and were now using a different airline. As such, we each were limited to one checked bag. Of course, we each had been schlepping two checked bags halfway across the globe, most of which carried the school supplies and other donation items for those that live and go to school in the Musoma and Nyegina area that would be our final destination. The extra baggage charge came in at $500 USD! 

Jeanine,