This is a letter from Nicola telling us about her time as a volunteer for Trade Aid in Mikindani, in southern Tanzania.

After eight months in Mikindani I am preparing to depart with a mild sense of apprehension about returning to cold and grey Old Blighty, finding work and somewhere to live and dealing with the fact that the Little Chef breakfast I’ll be treated to on the journey back to Norfolk will cost the same as a week’s wages here. Oh well, Qué sera sera. Homeless and jobless, but plenty of tales to tell the girls over a few glasses of wine and a pizza.

I think they’ll be surprised to learn that despite the daily toil required of rural women in Tanzania they do not appear to allow themselves to be overcome by any negative spirit of bondage. Life is incredibly hard, no doubt about it, but the ‘fairer sex’ dominates hardship by accepting it as necessary for survival and embracing friendship and humour as a way of enriching their lives.

It has been with a rather embarrassed awkwardness, so typically English, that I have donned my kanga and flip-flops and taken part in women-only activities.

Despite this, the fact that my Kiswahili is still appallingly bad and that their encouragement was largely for the entertainment value of seeing a ‘mzungu’ woman display her incompetence in performing basic tasks I definitely experienced a deeper sense of what is called ‘female bonding’.

I have learnt to cook chapattis, mandazi, ugali and coconut rice and to prepare an exquisite dish of pilau rice under the patient guidance of Mama Mohamedi, Mama Abuba and her 13-year-old daughter Fikira. Standing outside in the midday sun stirring a pot of sizzling oil over red-hot charcoal left me light-headed and parched, but whilst I fussed about the heat the others just wiped the sweat from their faces with a corner of their kangas and laughed and gossiped.

I have been to a couple of funerals, but visiting Mama Abuba as she lay swathed in a kanga in a darkened room grieving for her father on the day of his burial was an especially significant occasion as my own grandmother had died just a week earlier. Many women resplendent in a myriad of colourful kangas lined the street where the deceased had lived. Most were just chatting or reminiscing, but a group of about 12 women were standing and swaying in time to the deep, guttural mourning chant redolent of primeval times. It was International Women’s Day and being one of them felt hugely symbolic.

A morning’s work at Zainabu’s shamba caused much hilarity amongst our neighbours, but left me tired and my hands blistered. Five of us walked a kilometre to the shamba, hoed out the weeds between the maize and picked cassava leaves and pumpkins whilst being attacked by armies of ferocious ants. Zainabu had lent me her boots, but they were so badly split that my feet were filthy. So, before we headed back to the village she brought me some water and washed my feet for me, not out of deference, but friendship. Walking back we shared the load of the fruit of our morning’s work and carrying firewood on my head I (almost) felt part of one of the hundreds of thousands of small groups of women on whose labours so many people depend.

More recently I finally plucked up the courage to get my hair braided. I sat on the stone seat of a crumbling colonial house and as Mama Fatuma meticulously braided each strand of hair three or four other women took turns to hold down the rest of my unruly locks. While I enjoyed the chat of the women as they gossiped about what they’d done the night before and commented on every passer-by I realised that this was not so dissimilar from a visit to the hairdressers at home!

At the risk of seeming naïve and sentimental I have to say that I am happy to have been able to break through some of the cynicism about cultural barriers with which I arrived in Mikindani and shall leave with an enduring respect for the resilience and strength of spirit of the women of Tanzania.

Thanks to Sherie at Trade Aid. For more information on the work carried out by Trade Aid in Tanzania, see their website www.mikindani.com

There were five low cost airline carriers in the UK: Easyjet, Go, Buzz (owned by KLM), Ryan Air and BMIBaby. Easyjet has just announced that it is paying £374m ($524m) for its rival, Go, (which used to belong to British Airways before they sold it to a Venture Capital fund).

The consolidated airline will still be called Easyjet and all Go planes will be resprayed with the orange Easyjet livery and logo. The Chief Executive says that prices will not rise and they expect to face more intense competition from traditional airlines such as British Airways and Air France.

Both companies are still operating exactly as they did before the deal was announced. They will continue to accept bookings over the phone and via their websites. Go and Easyjet will probably continue with their separate bookings systems until at least the end of October 2002. Between them they fly 78 routes. Easyjet says there is little overlap and they have no intention of dropping any of the destinations. They will also continue to operate from their all their existing UK bases.