For a while now, I've been probing people about Bulongwa's history and the traditions of the Ukinga (tribe) that live here. This has given me many conflicting stories, and has probably made me annoyingly incessant in my questions. So, finally a couple days ago, Izack said he would introduce me to someone who could answer all I had to ask. As it turns out, he is also among the oldest coherent people left here. His name is Mzee (Mr.) Allam.
Upon entering his home, a relatively large brick house near the big Lutheran Church, the first thing he asked me was my age. When I answered, he started rolling in laughter. "20," he said, "did you know I was born in 1928!" That's ancient for here. His slouched posture is supported by a crooked wooden cane, with so much weight put on it, that you can't imagine he would be able to lift his head from staring at your shoes. But, when he finally does, with effort, his face looks younger than his body; only tufts of white from under his cap give away his age. That and his missing right eye.
We sit down on his couch and he begins his story. His grandfather was the first to arrive in Bulongwa, a name meaning, "Look everyone! I'm the first person here!" At that time, this area was a combination of heavily wooded zones and barren grasslands. Allam's grandfather chose a forested hill to build his home. Soon others followed, but people lived sparsely - roughly one house per mountain ridge. They cultivated many things, most don't have an English translation, but one of the staples was millet. Their protein was gathered from the forest. Again, many animals that I can't translate, except for gazelles and hogs.
In 1895, the first missionary arrived. Missionary, singular. In Bulongwa's history, there have been a total of three to reach this area. And that includes all the villages around here.
The missionaries made friends easily. They brought salt and oil and teapots and spoons. They also managed to convert pretty much everyone. They built a church or two, and a couple schools. People still lived far apart, however, and not many got an education.
The British took control of Tanzania as a protectorship in the Treaty of Versailles following WWI, where Germany was basically hung to dry. That was 1919, but the first sign of British presence in the highlands wasn't until after the second World War. The Brits came to dispose of the German missionaries, and it was around this time that the seeds of independence were being sown.
In typical Tanzanian fashion, independence was a peaceful diplomatic affair - one that you might not expect to make a difference in the lives of villagers. The opposite is true. From the arrival of Germans, not much changed for the people here. The creation of the Bulongwa, and in fact, the Tanzania I have seen stems wholely from independence.
That means, much of what I've taken as traditional, is only 60 years old!
From the "traditional" colorful kangas the women wear to the "traditional" ugali (a porridge made from maize with a consistency slightly thicker than mashed potatoes), even to the "traditional" agricultural community - none of this existed before independence.
One of Nyerere's first tasks as president was to totally reform agriculture. He promoted growing larger crops of maize, wheat and potatoes, keeping livestock, and living in communities to promote trade. Before this, not only did those crops not exist here, but people lived far apart so they would have more forest to hunt in, and they grew only enough to eat each day. Nyerere's system, which developed food stockpiles meant greater resilience to weather changes, and allowed the population to grow, taking over almost all the vacant space around. Any forest that is left has been planted for timber, and is mostly imported pine.
Bulongwa is composed of about 5 or 6 last names, spanning the thousands of residents that inhabit these hills. While now they form a large and disparate community, it's easy to imagine that less than one hundred years ago, there actually were 5 or 6 family units in the area.
Even though the longer I stay here, the less I find all that different with life in Canada, I think the divergence between the two countries stems from ages ago. I was talking to big E (I know you wouldn't want me to say your name here haha...) about this yesterday, and he thought that the major separation comes from 5000 years ago, when a small group of people began to worship one god, instead of everything, thus allowing them to understand, rather than worship, the world around them.
I think it's a combination of three things. That definitely played a part, and I think a second, important step came from that same movement. Writing things down. Getting a history here can be incredibly frustrating because the further back you go, the less memory there is of the time. At one point I asked Allam something and his answer was that so-and-so would know the answer, but unfortunately he's dead. Similarly, if you ask someone under 50 about their traditional foods, they'll tell you Ugali and chipsi (fried potatoes), while maize, potatoes, and certainly oil, were not here until a century ago.
The third thing that I think has led to the differences we perceive is the division of labor. In Plato's Republic, Socrates sets out to define justice through an ideal society, and his first point is that each person must have his or her own role, and must perform only that job. A butcher is not a baker, and a farmer is not a soldier. That was 2500 years ago, but the tradition is very much continued in what we call Western countries.
Here, self-sufficiency is the order. No matter what each person does, say owning a store or being a pastor, they each fulfill their own basic needs. Everyone farms, everyone builds their own home, even their own bricks. Obviously others sell their services and their materials, but people would get by regardless.
I am, however, comparing two extremes; rural Tanzania to Montreal. I didn't want to rant about here vs. there, just to present the subtle tendencies I've noticed. It's funny how here, with the new quest for money, people are moving away from self-sufficiency, and back home, with the scare of environmental catastrophe, people are moving towards it.
If they meet half-way, the world will become Dar es Salaam: a metropolitan city with banana trees and maize growing in every sidestreet and yard. As green roofs, green spaces and green living continue to rise in the West, we're probably not that far off.
No comments:
Post a Comment