Celebrating With the German Ambassador
The German Ambassador, his excellency Mr. Guido Herz and his head of Department for the small projects' support, Mrs. Traub-Evans had flown from Daressalam to Arusha, from wher we, Beatus and I, picked them up in the morning of the 6. of Oktober 2010. Before we could go to the VTC, we had to stop by the District Commissioner's (DC) office.
The reception at the VTC was overwhelming with a brass band playing, the students forming a guard of honour and a bunch of flowers handed to each visitor. After a brief tour of the tailoring building where the students demonstrated some of their skills on the cutting table and the sewing machines, we were placed under a marquise to listen to the students singing the national anthem, and to the inevitable speeches (short ones thank God). The Ambassador could not stay for the big lunch festivities prepared but took a brief tour of the school and its other novelties: the second boys' dormitory and the two laundry cum latrine buildings for the boys and the girls. The DC, following every step of the embassador was very impressed with what has been constructed and how the school was growing. Also impressed was another guest of honour, the director of the VETA (Vocational Education Training Authority) form Moshi. Before he left, the embassador handed me an envelope with some forms which should have been returned by June already: the proof of use of funds. I promised to see to their completion before I would have to go home.
Because Beatus had to drive the embassador and his company to the airport in Arusha, some places on the front table were left empty. I filled them with the local Masai chief and a friend from Germany, who surprisingly had found her way to our celebration; Mrs. Angela Walter, founder and engine of the Kinderhilfe Kilimanjaro, a charity collecting money for school fees for needy students in the Kilimanjaro region.
The food was plenty, and a real feast for the students, a break in their normal diet of maize and beans. They loaded their plates in almost disbelieve over all the goodies presented to them on this day. After the guest of honour had left the table in front, the real party began - with home brewed bananan beer scoooped from deep plastic barrels waiting in the background.
With the envelope in my hands I left the party.