The hotel was actually much better than I expected, and the manager told us not
to worry about mosquitoes. They had had no rain for 5 months, and so the malaria
bearing mosquitoes had nowhere to lay their eggs. Everyone in the group was
on a very mild, friendly malaria tablet, apart from me. My relaxed South African
doctor had prescribed Lariam for me, which has a string of side effects as long as
a politician’s expense claim. Psychotic episodes, depression, hallucinations and
possible death are just some of the things I can look forward to.

The next day started as every day was to start, with the Muslim call to prayer at 5.00
am. I muttered a few prayers myself with my duvet over my head, and then fought my
way through my mosquito net to get out of bed. (Why does the hotel have mosquito
nets if there are no mosquitoes?)

The main road past the hotel was classic East Africa – Masai men in traditional
clothing, women carrying huge loads on their head, young men pushing impossibly
heavy loads on hand carts, mini buses (dala dalas) somehow avoiding crashes as
they bent the rules of the road with every vigorous blast of the horn. Women selling
beautifully stacked piles of fruit and vegetables at the side of the road.

When we left the hotel to go to the Palotti Parish Centre where we would be based,
we were all shocked by the dramatic drop in living standards once we left the main
street. Our dala dala bounced through the drain at the side of the road and then took
us along the dirt road to the community centre. Father Mike Sullivan, who has been
based in Africa for many years, was there to welcome us, and the team there fed us
every lunchtime. 4 stunning Tanzanian women worked for the community under the
control of lovely Stella who was impressed by my general size and hairiness. If only
Irish women could be so discerning….

I coached rugby every day with two Tanzanian international players and a Ugandan.
Obviously the Ugandan was known as Idi, after the only other famous Ugandan. The
two Tanzanians were Juma and Ema, and together they have been coaching street kids
for 6 months now.

We worked on a football pitch near the community centre and I confess I was
extremely nervous as I walked down for the first time. My experience as a coach up to
then was exclusively with kids in Ireland, and I had barely been out of Europe before.
But kids are kids, and they seemed to enjoy all my rugby-based warm up games as
much as Irish kids do. It is heartbreaking to see these kids playing games in their bare
feet, and one tiny boy even played with a piece of towel tied round his foot where he
had been hurt. Some kids had made sandals out of an old car tyre. Not so much Nike
as Michelin.

Every morning around 25 boys would join us to play, as they had no school to go to.

Initially I thought they were around 13 or 14, but it turns out that the oldest boys were
17. I found out later in the week that if a child does not get proper nutrition in the
first 5 years, their growth can be impaired for life. All the kids were very small.

Many of the kids called me “baba” or father, but the smallest boys called me “babu”
or grandfather, since my 42 years would make me an old man in a country with a
life-expectancy of 50. The boys were all very well behaved as they are brought up
to respect and obey their elders. They are also keen to learn anything, so they were a
pleasure to coach.

The afternoons were busier as we were joined by kids after school, and on one day we
had 80 boys.

As well as coaching in Palotti Parish, I spent an afternoon at St Constantine’s School,
working with their Australian PE teacher. The chairman of the Tanzanian rugby board
brought in some kids from the up-market Braeburn School, and the interestingly
named Tanzanian Flowers team also turned up for a great afternoon.

I was very keen to work with some coaches there, so we spent an afternoon at the
TGT club, where the Arusha Rhinos adult team play. They have the only rugby posts
in Northern Tanzania, and even had a scrum machine, so we had a great session on
how to coach scrummaging.

That night I had a meal with John Kraft, the ex-Chairman of the Tanzanian rugby
board, and Tinus Aucamp, the current chairman. We were in a beautiful restaurant
outside Arusha, so I thought it would be good to spill a beer over Tinus, just to put
him at his ease with me. Once we had dried Tinus’ trousers, they explained to me that
Tanzanian rugby was at a very difficult stage. They have no funding from the IRB,
as they don’t yet have 10 adult clubs, but they need some funding to pay for some
full-time development people to help establish more clubs. All they need is around
€10,000 per year for 3 years to pay for 3 people.

On the Saturday morning I was free as we were due to play a match that afternoon,
so Robert from the Parish took 4 of us around the poorer areas. The main street
through Palotti which had so shocked us on our first day now looked very prosperous
compared to the abject poverty we saw in the side streets.

We met three familes, in varying degrees of housing ranging from a concrete built
room, to an old chicken shed. Most of the families we met had lost the father to
illness, or been abandoned. One family was about to be evicted as they couldn’t afford
the €3.00 per month rent. Another woman lived in a single room in a shed which
housed 25 families. These families shared a toilet which consisted of a hole in the
ground surrounded by sacks for privacy.

All of us were very badly affected by what we saw, and it brought home to us just
why we were there. We were very quiet that lunchtime, but the match in the afternoon
lifted everyone’s spirits. The Palotti boys played really well and were beating the
Tanzania Flowers team quite easily, when I decided to play for the Flowers boys.

Running at altitude in 36 degrees is quite a challenge for someone of my size. I ran
from the touchline to the middle of the field and had to stop for a little rest. I played
more of a static midfield organisational role, and I helped the Flowers team score a

few tries to make the scoreline more respectable.

And so to church at 6.30 on Sunday morning. Everything you would expect from an
African church service – lively, exuberant, colourful, musical ….and long. Almost 3
hours long in fact. Fr Mike held the whole service in Swahili, but you could recognise
the rhythm of the prayers. The cathedral choir were there to sing and dance, and even
though it was a church service, I frequently wanted to clap as the music was so good.
At the end of the service the Irish were asked to come up and sing, so we performed
a very mediocre version of “When the Saints go Marching in” which I think the
Tanzanians enjoyed, if only for the comedy value. I’m not sure if they were laughing
with us or at us.

After the service we met the HIV group in the community centre, and two very brave
people gave a personal account of how the virus has affected them. One man enjoyed
telling us how he had been so close to death, that his family delayed another funeral in
the family. They left the first body in the hospital morgue for several days in the hope
that they could have one funeral for two people and save some money.

All of us know how HIV is spread but is still slightly un-nerving to be in a room with
60 people all of whom are HIV positive. The interesting thing for me was how the
disease had spread so quickly, and I learned from another Irish health worker that this
is due to some key cultural issues. There are a dozen reasons why an African man will
go outside his marriage for sex, but the “other woman” knows a married man will not
leave his wife, so she has some more men in the background, and so you immediately
have a complex network of potential carriers.

Even if a wife knows her husband has been with another woman, she can’t insist he
should use a condom. Using condoms is seen as not manly, and the hierarchy in the
catholic church is still against condom use. Good men on the ground like Father Mike
appear to have a different view.

The official government statistics put the rate at 6% HIV positive, but this is a huge
understatement. 20% to 25% is more realistic.

Arusha also happens to be the location for the tribunals examining the Rwandan
genocide, so some of us went to the court to see if we could watch the proceedings.
Unfortunately the session was closed to outsiders, but the whole atmosphere of the
court made a lasting impression. Very tight security, anti-car bomb ramps, sniper-
proof screens and airport style security screening. Having said that, one of our group
didn’t have her passport with here so I passed her off as my wife and we got through.
She divorced me as soon as she no longer needed me.

A great week then drew to a close as we drove to the airport, and caught sight of
Kilimanjaro as we rounded a corner on the Arusha to Moshi road. Indescribable and
unforgettable.

Did the boys learn more from me, or did I learn more from them? I think I know the
answer.

David Mckeown, Naas 5th November 2009

Palotti Parish won the U19 title by defeating St Constantine’s International School in the final. Third
place was awarded to Peace House Secondary, with Tanzanian Flowers and the visiting Mkombozi
from Moshi taking fourth and fifth place respectively. Palotti Parish’s dedicated coach, Juma Kittyler,
was ecstatic with the result. Juma has been training the U14 and U19 Palotti teams, as well as
representing Tanzanian rugby himself.

For the adults, the pressure was on as they competed in mixed teams for places in the Arusha Rhinos
Tanzania League Squad. The Castle Rugby Tournament provided the perfect springboard to launch
the Arusha Rhinos rugby season, with the first match to be played against the Kili Cats in Moshi this
coming Saturday. The Arusha Rhinos will place their first home match against the Dar Leopards on
27th February.

The day was rounded off with a huge party at Njiro Mall, and we look forward to many more!

We would like to take this opportunity to give our thanks to Castle Lager, Holtan, PetroSol, Just
Water and FITCO, as well as the businesses and individuals who contributed to our auction and
raffle.