Wednesday, August 10, 2011

#1 - "Karibu"

#1 - Karibu

I used to love hearing the word "Caribou" because it reminded me of my favorite coffee shop.  Now, after these weeks in Tanzania I love this word  "karibu" (spelled a bit differently) because it reminds me of the deeply welcoming nature of my family here.


"Karibu" means welcome.  You hear it often. "Welcome to Tanzania."  "Welcome to our home."  "You are welcome for dinner."  But its more than welcome (and this isn't official, but it is my official observation) it is something like "you are not just a guest here, this home, this country, the meal - I fully share what I have with you."

During our house to house visits I never got tired of hearing the words "hodi hodi," followed quickly by "karibu."  In lieu of a doorbell, "hodi hodi" is the sound you make to let someone know you've arrived.  You always say "hodi" in a pitch an octave higher than your normal voice. If the person is home, they don't have to check to see who it is first to make sure its an acceptable visitor.  No, they respond "karibu" because everyone is welcome.

This is the "take away" of this entire trip for me.  You are welcome.  Here I am, a stranger from an altogether different culture and language, and these people have welcomed me in a way that is beyond necessary.  When I enter someone's home, they take my bag, so I don't have to carry it.  They send me home with beautiful produce from their gardens that they could have sold at the market or used to feed their families.  They call me their pastor and they name their children after me.

Sometimes I try to imagine how we would welcome visitors from Tanzania to our church.  Would we pull out the proverbial red carpet and do our level best to make sure that they felt truly at home?  Would we send an entourage to the airport to greet them with bundles of flowers?  Would we invite them into our homes and consider it a blessing just that they passed through our doorway? I hope so, but I'm not altogether certain.

I am in love with this Swahili word "karibu," but more importantly I am in love with the people who use it so frequently and who so genuinely mean it.

This word, more importantly the sentiment behind the word is how I know that today is not really goodbye, but "I will see you again."  I also know that whenever it is that I return there will be a warm welcome from these brothers and sisters awaiting me.

Until then ....

#2 - Pastor Mmanga

#2 - Pastor Mmanga



Where to begin?  Over the course of the last 12 weeks I have probably spent the most time with Pastor Mmanga.  He has been my host, my college, my entertainment, and my friend.  I can't tell you how hard I've laughed during some of our conversations, or how inspired I've been at his dedication to and vision for the church.

One day, just before John was to begin teaching at Uroki, I was wondering how long it takes to drive from church down to school.  So as we were passing Uroki, I checked to see what time it was.  It was 2:00.  We drove 3 kilometers and got home at 3:00.  This is because Pastor Mmanga likes to stop to roll down his window and greet each and every person he sees.  He is really a very busy person, but he always takes the time to stop and give the members of the church his full attention.

He knows everybody.  Pastor Mmanga has been at Uswaa for less than a year and he really knows everybody in the village.  He knows his way around the place, he knows who is related to who, and he knows who is attending church regularly and who is not.  He knows people (because he's willing to take the time to stop and talk to them) and the people trust him.

I love Pastor Mmanga's vision for the church.  He really wants to empower the church to to sustain itself.  He wants Uswaa to grow and bring change to the village and to the individuals who live there.  Daily, he stops down at the church's small business (a rock crushing machine) to make sure things are working and moving along.  He checks in on the church shambas frequently too, to see how things are growing and to encourage the people out working in them.  He's got dreams for the church, the church needs more pastors with big dreams.

On top of all this, he's just a fun person.  We have laughed so much.  For instance, recently we've been laughing about how John had his hand in his pocket when he was giving greetings in worship on Sunday.  Pastor Mmanga kept taking John's hand out of John's pocket.  In the course of this conversation we learned that when you put your hands in your pockets when you are talking in front of a group it is like telling the people that you're better than them.  This, he said, is almost as bad as giving someone a gift that is not wrapped or in a bag.  That (no gift wrapping) is just not human.

When driving Pastor Mmanga likes to take different routes whenever possible, we never know where we are and then suddenly we arrive at our destination.  He loves watching or reading the news and giving us updates on what's happening in America.  He loves tennis, particularly Serena Williams.  He usually yawns during prayer.  He makes this sound like a rabbit when he's thinking.  He loves his wife and his family.

As we were driving to his home on Sunday night, he said "you're leaving tomorrow, I wonder if we shall see each other again."  I told him that even if he's not at Uswaa (and I hope hope hope he is) on my next visit I will hunt him down!  That's a promise.


I am beyond grateful for having this particular pastor and friend during my sabbatical.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Mama and Harieth

Mama Mmanga

On Monday I spent the day in Mama Mmanga's kitchen. 



It was such a fun day.  Mama doesn't speak any more English than I do Swahili.  So sweet 10 year old Harieth stood by us all day long translating cooking instructions and conversation between teacher and student.  Pastor bopped in and out telling us how easy this all was, then he tried to roll out a skin for a samosa and his completely fell apart so he left again.

Everything was from scratch.  We took fresh coconuts, chopped them in half and ground out the white stuff.  We took a big hunk of beef, cut it up into smaller chunks and then ran it through a meet grinder.  We peeled garlic, chopped onions, and sliced green peppers.  We mixed flour and water with our bare hands and used an old Heineken bottle for a rolling pin.

We made samosas, chipati, and coconut beans and rice.  Tonight and dinner I declared this to be the best meal of my trip and I really really mean that.  Seriously, I really hope I can recreate the coconut beans and rice when I return home or else its going to be a very long wait until I can come back here again.


Harieth

This is 10 Year old Harieth.  She is really an amazing kid.  She goes to an English medium school and her English is impeccable.  She told me today that her favorite subject is English.

Here are three of my favorite parts of the day with Harieth.  While we were peeling garlic, she kept sneaking cloves and sucking on them.  All day she had a clove under her tongue and she would say to me "this garlic is so nice."

We were sitting together at the table reading a book when the rooster wandered into the living room.  When she saw it, she got down on the tile floor on her hands and knees and crept over to the couch and then jumped up on it to scare the bird.  It worked.  The bird lost its footing, stumbled about three times and the high tailed it out the door.  I really wish I had caught that on video!

Finally, she really wanted to use my computer all day.  So I set her up with Microsoft Word and let her go.  She wrote me the following story. 

Once there was an old woman. And there was a girl known as Ruth with her brother called Michal. So one day they went to the forest to take the fruit. Then Ruth saw the snake. then Ruth start to say Ma…Mai….Michal. He looked down and said then let us go in. Michal said what are you say? And if you see a snake agen who is going to help you agen? But Ruth didn’t care what Michal was talking. Then she went in the house .Oh she saw an old woman.The old woman uasked what is your name young girl? Then Ruth said my name is…..is…is Ruth.Then Michal was asked the same question but he was so afraid and he said that his name was Michal. Then the old woman gave them a ring.Then she said any thing you want ask the ring.The old woman disappeared.And Ruth and her brother were happy.FINISH.

By HARIETH ROBSON MMANGA.

She even changed the font color herself to red.  I love this girl.

I loved this day. 


#3 – Fabric

#3 – Fabric

It’s okay for me to have one really superficial item in my top ten right?

Few people besides my mom and my aunts will be able to fully understand my reason for picking fabric as
one of my favorite things. The fabric choices here mesmerize me. I love “people watching” anyway, but here the women adorn themselves with these beautiful fabrics that just have me staring. The colors are bright and the patterns are bold, naturally these are my two favorite things when it comes to fabric and clothing.

The other day I wrote about how Pastor Mmanga helped me search for a very specific piece of fabric that I had spotted at a funeral. We didn’t find it that day, but we tried again on Saturday. I dragged Pastor Mmanga and John along to countless fabric shops looking for it with no success. I do have 4 other really nice pieces of fabric as a consolation prize!

My mom emailed recently and said “I suppose you’re bringing home a whole stack of fabric.” Oh yes I am, and like any fabric lover, I have no specific plans for any of it.

Here's just a small sampling of some of my favorites.

 
 
 
 

Monday, August 8, 2011

#4 – The Women’s Group

#4 – The Women’s Group


For most of the first half of my trip here I got the chance to teach a weekly seminar to the women of Uswaa. Usually we would be about 40 in our Thursday afternoon gatherings. This will be one of my fondest memories of Uswaa. On that first day I had given them an assignment to get into groups and talk about something. Then I sat down in my chair and I just looked at those women and I scribbled the following down in my notebook:

To the women of Uswaa, I love that you work with such courage, laugh with such abandon, grieve with such intensity, gather with such purpose, sing with such energy, live with such strength, and love with so much of your heart.

This has not ceased to be true. I look at these women who have so much heavy, manual work to do, and yet they join together in laughter and sharing, with wisdom and song.

When the women gather, they have a lesson first. This lesson is usually a Bible Study or some sort of educational thing related to cooking, health, parenting, or gardening. Then they spend the bulk of their time working on craft projects. I love sitting and watching them work. I’m useful in helping to thread needles or the sewing machine, but I relish listening to them laugh and talk with each other. They really enjoy the company of one another.

If I could wish for one thing during the time with these women it would be that I could speak Swahili. There is so much that I think we would like to say to each other that just doesn’t translate.

Today after our farewell worship service so many of these familiar faces, Mama Ray, Mama Anko, Mama Ufoo, Mama Manda, Mama Neema, Mama Agape, Mama Sion … I could go on … came up to me and we couldn’t say much to each other, but our eyes spoke words of love and gratefulness.

I am in awe of these women and so thankful to have been accepted as one of them for these few weeks.

Farewell Sunday

Today was farewell Sunday. 

It was a big one. We had two services, two sacraments, and two crying Americans, and a congregation full of people gathered together for the glory of God. Amen.


Today it was so much fun to be a pastor at Uswaa. I got to preach, baptize, and share bread and wine with this amazing community. I got to listen to this congregation sing and laugh and praise God. I suppose because I’m leaving in three days it all seemed so much bigger and more sacred. I just wanted to push pause and stay in that moment a little bit longer.

I really sort of thought I was ready to go home, ready to see my family, my church, and sleep in my own bed again. Today during worship I just started to think that in so many ways these people are my family too, this is my church too, and this bed I’ve been sleeping in for the last 12 weeks is really quite comfortable. All of these thoughts were followed by more tears.

Earlier in the summer Evi wrote me this note that said “may this time be worth of your heart.” Today in that worship service I just kept playing those words back over and over in my mind.

It is.

It has been.

It will continue to be.

My heart is just all soaked up in the love and hospitality of this place.

So get ready, I’m coming back to share it with you!

Sunday, August 7, 2011

#5 – Prayer

#5 – Prayer

A couple of weeks ago we had dinner with this group from the Nebraska synod. There were only two Tanzanians there, otherwise all Americans. Before we ate, they looked at me and said that I should pray, being a pastor and all.

It felt a bit odd at the time, and later it occurred to me that this was the first time I had been asked to pray before a meal, other than the meals at our home.

Everyone here knows how to pray.

That shouldn’t be a strange statement, but in the U.S. it is my experience that most people are fairly uncomfortable praying out loud in front of a group. The pastors are always called upon to pray. Here the pastors really only pray in worship or when they visit a person’s home.

The kitchen people pray, the children pray, the Secondary School students pray, and the mamas and the babas pray.

I don’t speak Swahili, but I imagine that they are praying these deeply spiritual and eloquent prayers. They never say “um” and they never pause to think about what’s next. They just pour their hearts out to God. I always hear the words for “thank you” used over and over again during prayer. I’ve learned I don’t need to know this language to pray, the melodic voices just ooze with connection to our Creator.

I will miss these quiet and grateful prayers.

To Town We Go

On Thursday Pastor Mmanga and I took a trip to town, it was just this random day of running errands, but it was a joy for me to just spend time with my colleague and do some “people watching.”

We started at the bank. In order to complete the roof at Nkiraawanga they have to bring electricity to the area. The power company is corrupt here and they can’t begin the work because they have no money. So we have to buy telephone poles and 1200 meters of electrical wire and have the supplies there before they will start. At the bank we had to transfer the money into the account of a man who is securing the supplies.
Chairman Fredrick Urassa

Then we had a small meeting with our favorite chairman Fredrick Urassa, always a good time.

Then to the Diocese bookstore so I could buy some exercise books for Irene, some pens for me, and an African novel I’ve been hearing about called “Weep Not, Child.” Reading material for the plane ride home I guess.

Now lunch, I had a hamburger and chips (French fries), two samosas, and a passion fruit soda. Um, yes, I ended the meal uncomfortably full.

Then, Pastor had another meeting about building supplies. I sat in the car reading Wuthering Heights, which is one dark novel.

Next we stopped at a little shop with some random assortment of supplies. I sat in the car, but soon was beckoned in and asked to pick out a pair of shoes. Pastor Mmanga doesn’t even know how much I love my shoes and here he was determined to send me back home with a pair of African sandals. I love them.

After this we took a trip around an assortment of fabric shops looking for a particular Kanga that I saw some wearing at a funeral, we never did find it so I guess I’m giving up that dream. But it was incredibly nice for Pastor to make such a valiant effort to find it.

I was getting tired and we were getting back into the car to go again. I stood by the door waiting for him to unlock it for me. He looked at me and said “Sara, you’re in Africa.” I said “I know, I should be soaking up every last moment but I’m tired.” “No,” he said “you’re trying to get into the wrong side of the car.” And so I was.

Now we took a trip through two different markets. We bought 6 mangos, some citrus fruits that are something like tangerines, and some other vegetables too.

Finally, we stopped at Old Moshi Secondary School to visit Pastor’s son Kripton. It was nice to visit with him a bit, Pastor Mmanga has the nicest kids in the country!

Then back to Uswaa. Just bouncing along in his little Suzuki talking about the church, the country, and a million other things that matter to no one but us.

When we arrived back at Uswaa, the power was out and the village was dark. It was time for supper and bed. Pastor came in and joined us for supper and we laughed and laughed as we recounted the day to John.

I love when ordinary days turn out to be extraordinary. 

Saturday, August 6, 2011

#6 – Walking Through the Village

#6 – Walking Through the Village

I think my favorite activity is just taking a walk out into the village. On these walks we go off the main road onto the back roads and trails. Here we see all of the people out working in their yards or small farms, we follow the water rushing down this elaborate system of irrigation channels, and we see the various stages of bananas, beans, coffee, and peas growing. Here is where I’ve seen, on four different occasions, bush babies.

Here we get to see what no tourist sees. The real life and homes of the people of Tanzania are right there under the cover of the bush live 15,000 people with families, farms, and homes, their schools and churches. Along these paths is where we get to see and greet the people and it is where I found out that if you don’t have a piece of scratch paper and a pen, you can take a bit of banana leaf and a twig and write out a phone number. Here is where I get to practice my chagga greetings and hear people laugh out loud with joy that I care a little bit about their language. I will never grow tired of that laugh.

Last week we were walking in the village and I stopped to take a picture of some bananas. The woman laughed and laughed and asked why in the world I would want a picture of her bananas and not her. So I turned to take a picture of her and she ran away. When I had put the camera away she came back, she told me about her 10 children, and she asked me to buy her a kichagga hymn book. The book is purchased and on Tuesday I will deliver it.

On these walks we get to hear the primary school children following behind us and laughing to be so near to these strange visitors. We also get to hear the Secondary School students practicing their English. I can tell how advanced they are by the chosen greeting. They all know “good morning,” but not all of them know what time of day to use it. Sometimes John will hear a student say “good morning Madame” in the evening hours.


Last Monday we walked across 80% of the entire parish. We were on a sort of House to House mission.

When I got back I asked Pastor Shao if he could draw out a simple map for me so that I could see the layout of the village. I’m a visual learner. He said that he would ask one of the elder members of the congregation to make me a map.


Today he showed up with that map.

It is awesome.

It’s going right home to hang on the wall in my house alongside my maps from the boundary waters to remind me of one of my favorite places in the whole wide world to hike and experience the amazing beauty of God’s creation. 

Burial Humor

Two Random Bits of Burial Humor

ONE
Today Pastor Shao and I were trying to figure out which day we had done a certain thing. That certain thing doesn’t matter at all, but as we were discussing dates on the calendar he remembered that this certain thing had happened on the same day as a particular funeral.

It was a funeral I couldn’t remember. He said “yes, you remember we had it in the morning.”
I said “no, funerals are always in the afternoon, 1:00 right.”

“No,” he said “not that one, we had it in the morning because there was such a bad smell.”

I definitely had not been at that funeral, so Pastor Shao continued to describe the day to me. The man had died 12 days earlier in Dar Es Salaam, it took them so long to get the body to Uswaa that when the casket arrived at the family home in the morning, the brother decided they must move up the burial.

Pastor said that all of the people stood back as far as possible, but the pastor and evangelist leading the service were in pain from a smell so bad it made their eyes water. He said that they were so greatly relieved when the dirt was back in the ground.

We laughed so hard, we forgot all about what we had been talking about in the first place.


TWO
Pastor Mmanga is constantly trying to get me to eat more. He says that I need to go back to Nebraska a “huge mama.” We joke about this all the time. So far I think I’m the same size as when I started. Whew. He says that mamas need to be huge because they do all of the work. It’s true, women here do most of the hard labor. 

Today during tea, I was putting just a small amount of sugar in my tea and telling him that at home I never put sugar in my tea. He responded that he shouldn’t be using sugar either. I asked him if that was because he didn’t want to become fat. Then he went into this long explanation about how glucose works (which of course I already knew) where if you take in more glucose than you burn up you will get fat. Yes, I told him I agreed with his reasoning.

Then he said “I should stop eating sugar so I don’t become fat because I don’t want those ants snacking on my body when I’m dead and buried.”

Friday, August 5, 2011

#7 – Food

#7 - Food

Thursday morning I was sitting eating breakfast, lingering a little longer than usual because the fire was so perfect and the tea so tasty. Mama Baby came into the dining room to ask me what I would like for supper.

She smiled saying, “chipati?” She knows how much I like that. “What do you want to go with it?” she asked?

I said “beans and rice, avocado, a few samosas for John, and mango for dessert.”

She said okay with a giant smile and bounced back outside to the kitchen.

Let me just tell you how excited I am for supper tonight. These are all of my favorite things!

I’ve already written about how much I love the food here.

There are foods that just fill you up and give you the energy you need, but then there are the ones that make eating this enjoyable, even spiritual experience. Those are the foods I will particularly miss. Here are the one that I know I will miss and can’t get (or can’t get as good) in the US.
  • Fruit like mango, passion fruit and pineapple
  • Avocado – John keeps trying to convince me this is a fruit – but I love it so much I decided it belongs in a category all its own.
  • Sweet roasted bananas – that’s like having candy for breakfast!
  • Finger millet – this brown porridge that we have for breakfast.
  • Wheatabix – another cereal.
  • Samosas and chipati – I know now how to make these, but I’m sure they won’t be the same until I return to Uswaa
  • Bitter Lemon – does soda count as a food I’ll miss? Bitter Lemon (Or Peter Lema, as I sometimes call it) is something like squirt only better.
  • Kitumbua – these are these fried sticky sweet rice treats.
  • Ginger tea with honey - spicy and sweet.  
The closer I get to coming home I am beginning to have cravings for pizza and hamburgers, for green tea and my favorite barley pop – but for now I’m enjoying every last morsel of this delicious African fare.

After supper that night I told Mama Baby that the meal was excellent. I said “chakula kizuri kama kowaida,"  The food is excellent as usual.  She said with this very proud grin “marvelous.” Yes it is!

A Story in Three Parts - Part 3

A Story in Three Parts – Part 3

Part 1 and Part 2
 
I visited Mama Nelson on Monday and immediately was greeted by her beautiful daughter Judith. Mama Nelson has 4 children, Nelson, Winlet, Annette, and Judith. The older three were away at school, but Judith quickly found a comfortable spot on my lap and stayed there. (I guess I should admit that I bribed her to that spot with starbursts.)

As soon as we arrived at her home there was this sense of relief on Mama Nelson’s face. She had been waiting so long for me to come. She told me about her family, her children and her husband. She said they have enough to eat, they are happy, they have a good marriage, and the kids are thriving in school. She shared with me her concern that her son Nelson will not get an education beyond primary school and he has dreams of becoming a pastor or and evangelist. They have been so faithfully been able to provide for their family and now that Nelson has reached this point they feel like they are failing him.

I told her about some of the scholarship programs I know about and I promised her that I would try to collect some resources for her to learn more about this, I feel sure that Nelson will get an education. Pastor Shao was excited about this too – he knows Nelson faithfully attends the youth group – but he didn’t know that Nelson was feeling the call to serve.

I asked Mama Nelson if there was anything else that was a concern for her.

She then talked about her mother.

The crazy lady is Mama Nelson’s mother.

Once upon this time this now broken and confused woman was someone’s daughter and she still is someone’s wife and mother.

This woman who provides some comic relief in the village is actually a source of worry and despair for her daughter. She talked about how she still lives at home with her husband (Mama Nelson’s father) but it gets increasingly difficult for him to take care of her. He often calls on his daughter to help watch her, or search for her when she is lost.

I don’t think Mama Nelson wanted anything more from me than to just listen and to know that she cares and worries about her mother, that once her mother was well functioning and loving and caring, to know the grief she feels that that mother she had has now disappeared.

Mama Nelson just needed me to practice that which I had been teaching the women’s class on day one - “Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep.”

Listening to and caring for another person is elusive work. The results are not tangible and it is difficult to get a sense of accomplishment. It is also, I am learning over and over again, the thing that people need most of all. I will not forget Mama Nelson, or her mother, and I shall always be grateful to them for this bit of wisdom.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

A Story in Three Parts - Part 2

A Story in Three Parts – Part 2

Part 1

For lack of a better term, there is a crazy lady at Uswaa. She is everywhere and she makes her presence known. On the first Sunday I was here she was up front dancing away with the choir and singing at the top of her lungs. Neither the dancing nor the singing were in synch with what the choir was doing, but everyone just ignored her and carried on.

She attends all of the funerals and usually pushes her way up through the front of the crowd to sit with the family.

She is often seen just walking along the side of the road and when she sees the pastor’s car coming she’ll run out into the middle screaming something I don’t understand, but I’m also pretty sure that the Swahili speakers don’t understand either.

I’ve seen her out by the river just standing staring into space.

I saw her at Pastor Mwanga’s funeral where she had climbed up on a tree stump and was giving a sermon of her own during the burial.

Last Sunday at Nkiraawanga she was there and during the auction after the service she was sitting trying to carry on a conversation with John not aware at all that he did not comprehend anything she said.

After the service she was throwing rocks at our car as we were driving away, demanding money or she wouldn’t stop. One of the elders chased her off down the road.

In some ways it’s a bit comical to see her in so many places. I pretty much know that wherever I go, if there is any sort of public gathering, the crazy lady is going to be there. People know who she is and what she does and they pretty much put up with her, she is a part of their community.

I suppose this story could stand on its own, this is again another story of the strong sense of community in the Uswaa village. But, this is only part two of my story and as is almost always the case, there is more to this woman’s story than that she is crazy.

#8 - Pastor Shao

#8 – Pastor Shao

I guess I should mention that these 10 are in no particular order. They are just 10.


This is Pastor Shao, with his wife Lillian (who he has known since primary school – ahhhh) and their daughters Loveness and Annette. Isn’t each one of those smiles the most genuine?  (Now this might be my new favorite picture of the entire summer.)


Pastor Shao has been at Uswaa for about two years. He did part of his internship at Uswaa and then was assigned back here for his first call. He is a good pastor, he cares about people, he is incredibly faithful to God, and he has true joy in what he is doing.

One of my favorite things about Pastor Shao is just sitting in the dining room having tea and talking. He loves asking questions about the church in America and about how our lives are different than life in Tanzania. When I tell him something that he can’t quite believe, like “I drive a car that I own,” his response is usually a skeptical “sure?”

Pastor Shao snaps his fingers when he’s thinking. He prefers coffee to tea. He’s not very skilled at driving the piggy piggy, but he’s doing his best to learn. He has two teenage girls (from difficult family situations) living in his home with him, he pays for their school and they help to take care of his house and daughters. He prefers counseling to preaching. He loves his family.

Last weekend Pastor Shao took us to his home in Mwika, which is west of Mt. Kilimanjaro. (Uswaa is east.) We rode the dala dala from Uswaa all the way there. We stopped in Marangu along the way and enjoyed lunch and sodas right by the most beautiful waterfall. We met his parents, his mother-in-law and niece, his aunt, and nephew. We saw his home church, primary school, and Bible College. It was so much fun.

Pastor Shao and John enjoying our sodas by the waterfall.


Pastor Shao with his wife's brother's baby.  
He was meeting her for the first time and quite pleased with holding her.


Pastor Shao, his father Jonathan, his mother Esther Mary, and his aunt who's name I cannot remember.
 


Pastor Shao taught me a few of the greetings from the KiChagga dialect in Mwika. I worked them into my sermon on Sunday morning at the Kiruweni Parish in Mwika and he must have told me six times on the drive back to Uswaa how happy he was about the KiChagga in my sermon.

Pastor Mlay from Kiuweni Parish (Pastor Mlay used to be at Uswaa too), Me, and Pastor Shao.  This was right after the Sunday worship on July 31.

Monday Pastor Shao took us on this walk around the Uswaa village. The village is divided into 10 parts and when we returned to church in the evening he informed us that we had walked through 8 of those 10 parts. It was a long walk, but a great great day spent with one of my favorite people!

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

A Story in Three Parts – Part 1

I’ve been teaching a women’s seminar on about half the Thursdays that I’ve been at Uswaa. I’m teaching about how women can be a caring presence in the lives of other women.

At the very first session I introduced them to “highs and lows.” Something I learned way back when I was working at camp and an activity we often do even now with our confirmation kids. It’s simple, you pair up with another person (or group of people) and each person shares their high for the day and their low for the day. The good and the bad things they’ve experienced.

We’ve been focusing our study on Romans 12:15 – “Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep.”

In the picture below, Mama Nelson (on the left) is sharing highs and lows with Mama Manda.


 Mama Nelson has attended each and every one of these sessions. She is always there in the front row and when it is time to break into groups for sharing she takes on the assignments with earnest.

At the beginning of the second session she came up to the desk and handed me a brown envelope, it was addressed to Mchungaji Sara (Pastor Sara.) The letter was all in Swahili, but after class one of the pastors translated it for me and she basically wanted to tell me two things. Thank you for being my pastor and would you please come and visit my home. I made a promise to her that I would come and visit her.

Every time we meet for class Mama Nelson comes to find me to ask me if I remember the promise I’ve made to her. I have continually assured her that I do remember and I will come. But yet every time I see her my stomach sinks just a little bit because I know I have hesitated to fulfill my promise.

I’ll be honest about my hesitation. Sometimes it can feel a bit like people want me to visit them because they have financial needs that they think I can fix. I knew about Mama Nelson’s concern for her son’s education and I was nervous her main motivation for the letter and invitation was to see if I could pay for secondary school for her son.

I did visit her on Monday, but that story comes later. As I now reflect on Part One, I know that the desperation in this woman’s plea was not for some quick fix, but just for a pastor to listen to her. Let me just say how blessed I was to be that pastor.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Maria

It occurred to me that I should have a top ten list of things that I'm excited about getting home to.  The truth is, that particular list is only one item long and her name is Maria.

Everything else can wait.

I hope I can handle waiting the next 9 days until I get to meet my newest niece born early this morning.


This is Miss Maria Elaine, born on August 2nd, the third anniversary of her Grandpa Spohr's new heart.

So "Happy Birth-Day" to Maria and "Happy-Heart-Day" to Grandpa.

I love days that remind me of new life and hope.

I can't wait to get my hands on that girl!

(In the spirit of all that is fair and good, I am beyond excited to see all of her cousins too!)

#9 - Music

One of my most favorite things here is listening to the people sing. Ever since my first trip in 2005, when I heard this children's choir sing with such beautiful and spontaneous harmonies I've been hooked.  I actually think I got hooked when I was in high school and we watched the movie The Power of One and then got the soundtrack and I fell in love with this kind of music.  However, the real things is so much better.

The choirs here are a treat to listen to, even when they are just rehearsing.  In worship when the whole congregation sings together in this amazing harmony I love trying to join in, but sometimes just close my eyes and listen because it is way better when I keep my voice out of it.

Following funerals at the church we process with the entire congregation back to the person's home for the burial.  The whole processional line sings the whole way.  One woman usually starts out with a melody line, and then everyone joins in.  Usually this is a call and response and they sing the person all the way from the church to home.

I've also been working quite a bit with the women's group.  When they sit and sew, they sing.  When they have a Bible study, they sing at the end of it.  When they are just standing around getting ready to go home, they sing and laugh and just enjoy the company of each other.

This video will not do it justice, but believe me, this was one of the most spontaneous and fun moments of worship I've experienced in my life.


I wish I could write more eloquently about the music here.  It really is something to behold.  I suppose that's appropriate though, music is best heard and experienced live.  I guess its just another reason that you should come to Tanzania and meet all of these wonderful people and worshipful singers!

Irene

Irene

I had promised Irene that I would get back to Uroki school to visit her. Since my stay here is 3 months, it felt like there was all the time in the world to make good on that promise. Sadly, the time is running out and I finally got to spend another afternoon with Irene. This time visiting her school and seeing where she stays, her friends, and a little bit of her neighborhood.

Simply delightful.

I wrote about this once before, but it bears repeating. When I met Irene for the first time in 2009, she was so shy I thought she might be breakable. This time, she is a different person, a completely different person.

She is still quiet, but her smile lights up the room and my heart with it. She is speaking excellent English, she has plans to be a doctor, and tomorrow (if there is electricity) John is going to help her set up an email account.

On Friday she showed me around her dorm room. It is a room about 10 feet by 20 feet. It has five bunk beds in it, so there are 10 mattresses. 20 girls sleep in that room. She led me into the room where many of her roommates were lounging and resting. I asked how many girls are in her room and she said 20. I said, no, and started counting the beds, one … two … three. No, she quickly corrected me, two … four … six.

Then she pointed to the two girls taking a nap sharing a bottom bunk.

 Irene asked me what I was doing the rest of the day. I said we were going to walk over and visit baby Sara. She knows the family, they are neighbors. She asked if I could request a leave from the head master so that she could walk there with us. I did and it was granted.

It was so fun to visit this family, both to see baby Sara, but also to see Irene shine. She was engaging in conversation, she translated like a pro, and she promised (as we walked home) to check in on little Sara and send me updates.

I may be biased, but I believe this girl is going to be something. I think she is going to excel in what she sets out to do, and I think she is determined to make a difference in the world.

I’m so thankful I get some small glimpse into it all.

Simply delightful and completely inspiring.

Monday, August 1, 2011

#10 - Bananas

10 Days

I decided to create some extra work for myself and put up an extra post for these last ten days of some of my favorite things here. These are the things that I am most going to miss when I leave next week. Can it really be next week? It is. So I’m just soaking it all up for 10 more days.


#10 – Bananas

We eat bananas all the time. I love roasted or sweet bananas for breakfast. Banana stew and banana ugali are favorites for lunch and dinner. They also have these other little deep fried sweet banana treats that we are blessed with for tea once and a while.

As I’ve written before, the banana trees also provide the most beautiful backdrop for life in this place. They are a very important part of the diet here, the economy, and they are practically another character in chagga tradition. I love taking walks through the village and admiring the massive leaves and the ripening fruit. I have always said that nature provides the very best color palate; the banana trees prove this to be true, even when they are dying.


Here is a banana pod, just as its opening up to start producing its fruit.  This red bulb type thing grows off the end providing nutrients for the fruit, eventually it drops to the ground altogether.





Off to market.  
(I'm really bummed this picture is blurry, but you get the point.)

More Sara

I'm pretty sure you've all been anxiously waiting to see more pictures of sweet baby Sara.  We visited her again today, delivering some diapers and a layette from Southwood VBS kids.  I'm telling you, this family could not be more gracious.



Pictured here are Irene, 2 Sara's, Sara's Mama Cecilia and her grandmother.

It was so fun to have Irene along today to visit little Sara.  She was a perfect translator and since her parents home is very close to this family Irene has promised to check in with them and send me updates.

I have at least one more Irene story I can't wait to share with you, watch for that tomorrow!

Amazing Women

About a year ago I read the book "Half the Sky" true stories of women around the world who turned oppression into hope.  It is really a book worth reading, each story in there is inspiring.

I think that each of the following three stories could easily fit into that book as well.  Here are some women I've met at Uswaa who are fighting to turn oppression into hope.

First meet Neema. 
Neema and her mother have this vanilla garden.  You can see in the picture below the vanilla vine (the one with the small skinny leaves) growing up the tree with the bigger wider leaves.  In Neema's hands she's holding three bundles of dried vanilla beans ready to take to market.

Each one of those bundles is worth 370,000 Tanzanian Shillings or $244 US Dollars.  Amazing, you can't believe what that money can do for this family.  Those little bundles smell amazing too - but that's hardly the point.

I was told there are about 92 women throughout the village of Uswaa that are growing vanilla.  There is one place their dried bundles and it is taken to town to be sold in bulk, the women get all of the profit from the vanilla without having to pay a "middle man." 



Then there is MaSwai.  Cows are her business.  More specifically, milk.


MaSwai collects milk.  Her home is the place where all of the women bring their milk.  Daily she is waiting there with her buckets, collecting milk, measuring and recording each woman's contribution.  When she has gathered all of the milk for the day it is taken to town to be sold, again the women get every cent of the profit.

MaSwai's husband was telling me all about the project, I asked what kind of money they get for a five gallon bucket of milk.  He said "I don't know, cow's are women's business, but I know she always has enough money."


Finally, meet Mama Anna


Mama Anna is a midwife and very early on the morning we met her she had been at the dispensary delivering a baby.  She also is the organizer of a group called Huduma.  Huduma is women living with HIV/AIDs and Mama Anna helps to gather them and offer support and whatever resources she can come up with for them.

Obviously there are not a lot of women that are clamoring to be in this group.  HIV/AIDs is not something people are wanting all of the public to know they have.  So these women need gentle and loving encouragement to get started in the group.  We were told that Mama Anna is a pro at approaching people who she suspects are ill and working with them to get the resources available for them.  The medication they need now is free and readily available, but they have to be willing to admit they need it and to have someone help them along the way.  Mama Anna is that someone.

Here Mama Anna is pictured with Lillian, Mama Anna is Lillian's guardian.  Lillian has told us that she wants to be an attorney and become an advocate for children.  Obviously Mama Anna's generous and compassionate heart is influencing Lillian in the best possible way.


Sometimes I think we get very narrowly focused in our Global Mission work.  We can simplify it all to something like "thank goodness we are working with these people because they would have nothing without us."   Southwood has been working with Uswaa for something like 10 years, and we have done a lot of projects and that is great.  However, I've said it before and I'll continue to say it - Global Mission work is really about the relationships.  When we build relationships and get out into the village to meet and know the people, we find that there are some pretty amazing stories already in motion of people working diligently to support and lift each other up.

These three stories have nothing to do with us, but yet they do, because we get to watch, and learn, and be inspired by how God is already at work before we even get here.