In Saadani we have three very important people working for us: Benjamin our cook, John our field assistant and Benjamin’s wife Macarena. Benjamin has been with the research project from the beginning and has now been working for us for nearly ten years. He’s an excellent cook and I can truthfully say that the best rösti I’ve ever had was here in Tanzania. Of course, for many people the idea of having a cook is a bit strange, but I have come to realise that it is great to have someone else be responsible for this task. After a long day in the field, we return hungry and what could be nicer than to just be able to sit down at the table and, after a common 'karibu chakula' or 'En Guete', serve yourself some good food?

Not only is Benjamin our cook; he’s also our handyman around the house, our know-it-all when it comes to former students or professors, and our translator and go-between when it comes to dealing with fundi (handymen), fundi ya umeme (electricians), fundi ya maji (plumbers) or any other house-related problem. He has a lot of experience in dealing with European students who haven’t quite mastered Swahili yet (the official language of Tanzania and the only one our employees speak), do strange things in the field (such as collecting fresh animal droppings) and go insane when they have a bout of malaria (which results in him telling us to go straight to hospital at the slightest mention of a headache in the sweltering heat).

At the moment, he is nearing the sixty year mark and has become a bit of a mzee (old man) with all the health-related issues that go with it, grumpy if things are not exactly they way he expected them to be and generally very set in his ways. However, he remains a friendly and jovial man, without whom we would have had a rough time in Saadani, especially in the beginning when everything was still new and we didn’t have a clue what we were all about.

John lives just outside the gates to the park. As you drive past, you see two house on either side of the road: his first wife lives in one and his second wife in the other. His twelve children run from one house to the other and whenever we go to pick John up or drop him off we are greeted by a chorus of children’s voices chanting 'baba, baba!' (father, father!). Sometimes, you also hear 'babu, babu!' (grandfather, grandfather!), as his oldest son’s children also live with him. John already worked at Saadani as a night guard for the cattle back when it was still a cattle ranch. When it became a National Park, he worked for the park management and in 2002 he became our valuable field assistant. Who needs SatNav when you’ve got John? He’s lived in the bush all his life and knows it like the back of his hand; he’s familiar with the work of former students, can build fences in the midday heat, and has the best Saddam Hussein shirt ever (which he wears proudly, although we do wonder if he actually knows who the man is, but we’ve been too chicken to ask...)

Macarena is Benjamin’s wife. She accompanies him to the park when we’re there. She’s also an excellent cook and makes food for me in Mkwaja when Annette is with Benjamin in Saadani.

Saadani National Park can basically be divided into two areas: Mwkaja in the north and Saadani in the south. I work in both parts of the park. Mkwaja used to be a cattle ranch, while Saadani is actually an old sisal plantation. The presence of the cattle, with their excessive grazing and return of nutrients in their dung, caused 'bush encroachment' in Mkwaja. This means that the savanna, characterised by open grassland dotted with trees, has been replaced by a much bushier environment where few grazers dependent on grassland can meet their food requirements. Therefore, Mkwaja doesn’t have a large herbivore population and I use this area as my control. I can look at the nutrient fluxes in the area without the presence of herbivores like in Saadani. This enables me to compare the two areas to assess the 'herbivore effect'.

Anyway, Annette, who is more of a zoologist than I am, mostly researches animals in Saadani. She is based there permanently and Benjamin accompanies her. When I’m in Mkwaja, Macarena cooks for me. She is much younger than Benjamin and as it turns out his second wife (although we only realised that this field season!). They have a strict husband-and-wife relationship: Macarena hardly speaks when Benjamin is present, and if Benjamin drops a spoon in the kitchen, Macarena picks it up. She never voices her opinion in his presence. But when we’re alone in Mkwaja she doesn’t stop talking, makes jokes with John and is not in the least bit shy when it comes to what she wants. But I suppose that’s the way married couples still live their lives, especially in the rural parts of Tanzania.

I sometimes wonder what Benjamin thinks of us students: young, white women who he has to work for and who are responsible for paying his salary. It seems to me that this might be to grasp for an older man who gets the respect he feels he deserves from his wives and children. Of course, we try to understand his predicament and I find it very difficult to be employer to a man thirty years my senior. But employer I am and a challenging task it is. The most difficult aspect is that once we’re in Saadani they adopt a very dependent behaviour towards us. They don’t seem able to make any decision for themselves anymore and all the decisions made require either our help or money. However, as these people live closely with us while we’re here, the fine line between friend and employer starts to blur and it becomes difficult for me to maintain this distinction. Benjamin in particular has trouble with these roles, as he tells us 'I help you and you help me'. But of course this is not the case. We pay him to 'help' us; it’s his job and not a friendly gesture. But where do we draw the line?

For instance, we have a research budget to pay for all research-related issues, such as permits, field equipment and car repairs. Food we buy from our personal budget, and this food is also intended for Benjamin, Macarena, John and Ali (Macarena and Benjamin’s son) when they’re around. This means that in the months we’re here, they have no expenses when it comes to their own meals. However, this is seen as normal, as we are rich compared to them, and part and parcel of the I-help-you-and-you-help-me policy.

Furthermore, we pay their medical bills when they feel a hospital visit is necessary and by now I have already been to the hospital with all of them a couple of times. Macarena in particular would rather wait with a bad stomach ache for me to find the time to drive her to the hospital than go by herself and have me pay for her to get there and cover the hospital bill. It probably pays to have a mzungu (white person) accompanying you to the hospital, as I won’t wait quietly in a room for hours without knowing if someone is looking at a file and if it would be possible to see the doctor today. Nevertheless, we wonder what they do when we’re not here. Surely they still need to go to hospital, pay electricity bills and arrange transport for goods bought elsewhere?

It seems harsh to say this, but they probably try to get us to do it because it’s the easiest way for them and we feel too guilty to say no. This was especially the case in the beginning for me, as I know I’ve got much more money than them and what harm could it do to spend some of it on the people I appreciate? But, as the old saying goes, offer someone a hand and they take your arm. Soon, I found myself having to bring back mobile phones, looking for solar panels in Dar-es-Salaam, arguing about lending money to buy an overpriced motorcycle and spending whole days waiting around in hospitals. After a while, I decided enough was enough. After all, I had come to Tanzania to do field work for my doctorate, not look after people who are perfectly capable of solving their problems when I’m not around.

I began to draw certain lines. We still help them out as much as we can and drive them to hospitals when necessary; but we try to limit the amount of favours we do and let them try to solve things themselves first. No more lending money we never see again, but a system that offers them an advance on their salaries if they want to buy something expensive in one go. And it seems to be working fairly well. Of course, there’s still the odd difficult situation where I don't want to be seen as a harsh employer, but the fact is that I’m just that. And although I don’t want to lecture a sixty-year-old man on his finances, I’m quite clear in what he can and can’t get from me. The system seems to be working out well for all of us and it’s good to know where one stands in Saadani life.

About the author

Judith Sitters is originally from the Netherlands although she grew up in Africa (Zambia and Kenya). She moved to Zurich in September 2008 to start her doctorate in the Plant Ecology Group at ETH Zurich. Her research focuses on the effect herbivores have on the nutrient cycle in the humid savanna of Saadani National Park in Tanzania. Therefore, she travels to Tanzania twice a year for three to four months to conduct her field work. She’s currently in Tanzania for her final field season, after which she will be spending most of her remaining time in the lab and in front of her computer at ETH Zurich. She’s due to complete her doctorate in September 2011.