St Francis School for the Disabled remains amazing, and I'd like to use this blog to show some pictures and talk a little more about the organization.

Here's a picture of the hand-painted sign welcoming visitors to St Francis school, which I will now describe piece by piece. Pictured, of course, is St Francis, a saint who devoted his life to serving the poor, once responding to his friends' inquisition of whether he plans to marry with the response, "Yes, a fairer bride than any of you have ever seen", referring to his "lady poverty". Then there's the name, "St. Francis of Assis Nursery and Primary School". I don't have much to say about this, except for the fact that I am surprised to see the word "Assis" written without an 'i' at the end. I am surprised for two reasons: a) the man is much more commonly known as coming from Assisi; and b) it goes contrary to the popular, seemingly exception-less, trend amongst Swahili speakers, due to the nature of their native language, to add an audible vowel to the end of every word without one already. A case in point can be found in the name that the St Francis children called me in their song: "Kaka Gregi", not "Kaka Greg", but also in some of the many English words that have been adopted into Swahili: keeplefti, benki ("bank"),  petroli ("petrol"), basi ("bus"), gari ("car"), peketi ("packet") and many more. But somehow St Francis' hometown has become the exception. By the way I've since adopted the name "Grego" instead of "Gregi", though I continue to hear and read some interesting variations, such as Grag, Agre, Grac, Cracc, Grey, George and Greyson.

The information below the school's name is the school's contact information: to the right the cell phone number presumably of the hospital's director; and to the right its address. Addresses are great in Tanzania, so simple and easy to remember, always in the form Name/P.O. Box Number/City. Mine, for example, is Greg John P.O. Box 8352 Moshi.

Finally, at the bottom of the sign is the school slogan: "GOD FOR ALL DISABLED AND ABLED, EDUCATION FOR ALL DISABLED AND ABLED". Certainly St Francis school is a fairly religious place, being run by nuns and all, and being an institution within the Catholic Diocese of Moshi. Indeed prayers are said by all the well-drilled children before every meal, and even the sodas must be blessed when sitting down for an afternoon drink. But Tanzania is a pretty devout place in general, with prayers and blessings being generously though judiciously sprinkled through daily life, so this place isn't far out of the mainstream. Anyways, as long as St Francis or any other institution I work with continues this high quality and economically efficient support, personal beliefs are not a concern to me (within reason of course).

The second part the slogan is for me the most important: EDUCATION FOR ALL DISABLED AND ABLED. St Francis really does live up to this portion of its slogan, giving dozens of blind and deaf children the opportunity to receive an education, using Braille and sign language techniques. Without the chance to go to St Francis, many of them would no doubt to be confined to their villages, with no future to speak of, or confined to a classroom whose lectures they could not comprehend. Standardized test scores of the children from St Francis remain well above the national average, and the confidence with which the children speak their simple English is striking in comparison to your average Tanzanian primary schooler. These accomplishments are impressive unto themselves, but especially so when considering the challenges that must be overcome to achieve them. It's also great to see that St Francis employs as teachers many deaf and blind Tanzanians.

Here's a building at St Francis which, the attractive façade notwithstanding, closely resembles 99% of newly built school buildings in Tanzania: simple, rectangular, concrete block walls, iron sheet roof, dirt yard out front. There are about 5 of these buildings that make up St Francis, split between classrooms, dormitories, dining rooms and offices. In addition there are a couple slightly more run down buildings that are the outdoor kitchen and toilets, a couple wooden shacks to house equipment and chickens, and a few half-built buildings sitting idle at various stages of construction: a new dormitory, a new classroom and a dispensary. I'm not sure why St Francis—and many other institutions—end up doing construction multiple buildings simultaneously, since it seems to have the effect that no building gets finished (anytime soon). Perhaps different money sources are paying for different buildings.

These two pictures help capture some the spirit of the Amazing St Francis School. The first picture is of many of the students of St Francis performing one of their patented sing-songs, though this one does not include the raucous boogie with which I was so enthusiastically serenaded as described in the book's chapter. What the song does include is the same melange of blind, deaf, albino and fully-able children each singing in their own way (notably in sign language by the deaf), the lyrics "Welcome!" and "Feel at home!" many times over, and a few not-so-subtle yet enterprising requests for financial support (and here's one on their behalf: St Francis is in great need of things like Braille paper, Braille slates, and other equipment for the blind and deaf. If you've got any leads on items such as these, see if you can't get some donated). Anyways when the kids are on their game, they're truly a joy to watch.

This picture is one I really like, it's of an albino boy helping a girl put on her sandal, both with nice smiles on their faces. I'm not sure if the girl is deaf or fully-able--she's not blind and certainly not albino--but really it's almost better not knowing: as the children's cohesive and accepting behaviour suggests, it doesn't really matter. These kids simply don't care who is blind, who is deaf, who is albino and who is fully-abled: they are simply friends. How great is that?

I must also add at this point that Tanzanians seem to be, in general, extremely sympathetic, kind and accommodating to the country's sizable disabled population. Man, you do see tonnes of disabled people around Moshi, including lepers with worn down nubs for hands and feet, people who can't walk for some reason scooting around in their cool hand-peddled bike-buggies, the odd legless person crawling around town on their hands and stump legs, people with a gimpy leg that probably once broke but was never fixed hopping around with a stick, limping people, burned people, deaf people, blind or one-eyed people, and facially disfigured people. It can be a little depressing really, first thinking about the difficult lives these people have, but more so since many of them probably wouldn't have these disabilities had they been living in a country with a good health care system.

Last picture for this blog entry is of Sister Mary Benedicta, the school's director and engine, with one of St Francis' many special students, a boy named Kone (pronounced "KO-nay"). First Kone, who came to St Francis in a terrible state from a Masai village a few years ago. He was obviously quite developmentally challenged, but also physically handicapped and hardly able to walk, tiny, weak, and needing to be handfed despite being at least a few years old (they're not sure his exact age and made up a birthday for him). Since St Francis began caring for Kone his life has changed from one which could once have fairly been described as doomed, to one of development, growth and happiness. He is still unable to talk, he still needs help eating, and he still often seems to be living in his own world with his slightly deformed hand that provides him with a great deal of entertainment. However he very clearly has a significantly increased mental capacity than when he arrived, he's strong and growing, and he has developed his own affectionate and endearing personality.

And now Sister Mary Benedicta, the woman who calls herself Kone's mother. Sister Mary B is one of the truly inspirational Catholic Sisters with whom I work on a regular basis. In addition to God, her life is devoted to serving and loving the underprivileged, and there aren't many people in this world who can make a similarly noble claim. Sister Mary is a strong woman both physically and in terms of conviction, believing strongly in the worthiness of her causes (God and St Francis); indeed I have a hard time expressing in words the love and devotion that this woman has towards her children. I happen to be in a fortunate situation here in Tanzania in that I work and live with a number of people that I truly consider to be heroes, and certainly Sister Mary Benedicta is one of these people. She is the driving force behind the expansionary vision of St Francis School, an outspoken crusader for the rights to education for all Tanzanian children both abled and disabled, a most generous and hospital hostess, the role model from which the children of St Francis School develop their genuine feelings of care, compassion, camaraderie and inclusion, and she has a smile and a laugh that only make you smile and laugh with her. Here's to Sister Mary Benedicta and St Francis School.

Tanzanian Moment of the Week:

A 5 hour bus ride. Sitting beside a young mother and her infant child. No diaper changing facilities. An early soilage. Enough said.