We just finished a workshop out in a village called Lukeledi. I don't know why, but I really like this place. From what I can tell, or from my very limited perspective of the area around the primary school, the village itself has nothing. It does have korosho (cashew nuts), but that's about it. Despite how impoverished it is, I still find myself wanting to stay here. Not forever, but at least a little while.
Why do I feel this way? Is it guilt, for being one of the lucky few born in the richest country on the planet? Is it the desire to help, and to improve the lives of the people here? Nope. I just wish my life was simpler. The people here are simple. They live simple lives. I'd like to think if I was boiled down to my essence, I'd find the same thing within me. But it isn't true. My life is complicated. Really complicated.
I suppose it's ironic then, that the reason I'm here is to make their lives more complicated; having computers in their community certainly won't make them any easier. Well, at least not yet.
D,
ReplyDeleteReceived this as we were getting ready for Sarah's wedding in the midst of World Racers. I think they would be sympathetic to your observations. Of course I am steeped in the good fortune that comes from complexity - science can do that I suppose. How does this make you feel about space and exploration? Can one of the bright minds of the next generation come from the people you are helping? Is the move from simplicity worth it, and can wisdom bring us back to a place where we enjoy the best of both simple and advanced? Love you, man!
Well, there's complexity in terms of knowledge and education, and then there's complexity in terms of what we depend on to live comfortably. I'm referring to the latter. It seems strange to think that old mathematicians and astronomers discovered lots of incredible and sophisticated things while they didn't have electricity or running water. Imagine inventing calculus, and then celebrating with a nice warm bucket bath.
ReplyDeleteBut I'm still convinced of one simple principle when it comes to development in Tanzania: only a Tanzanian can truly help another Tanzanian. It doesn't mean we can't be a part of it, but we certainly shouldn't expect to be able to do it for them. I'm surprised at how many projects here, while talking about the importance of sustainability, do very little to involve the community in any part of the process (distressingly, my own project included).
If you want sustainability, your goal is to keep your hands out of it as much as possible.