Thursday, June 30, 2011

Visiting Irene (Part 3 of 3)

I have a picture of Irene on the bulletin board above my desk in my office at Southwood. I keep it there with the pictures of my nieces and nephews.  My parents and siblings are pictured there too. In other words, the most important people in my life are right there where I can pray for them daily.

I try to pray for Irene daily, I think about her in her home at school and with her family and friends and I pray that she is happy and healthy and realizing her hopes and dreams.

When I visited her home I got the notion that maybe she is praying for me, or at least thinking about me on a regular basis as well.

Check out this picture:


In the upper right hand corner of that picture you’ll see a little tattered and torn piece of paper, its about the only thing hanging on any wall of their family's home.

Here’s a closer look:


I think maybe that picture came from a Sunday School lesson that one of our groups did over the past few years.  But why that piece of paper?  That piece of paper, hanging above their door, is a message and it says Irene’s family is praying for us at Southwood as well.

Thanks be to God.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Halfway

Today marks the halfway point in my trip.  I'm here for 85 days, 42 are done, today is day 43, and after today there are 42 more days to go.  While the first two weeks seemed like they last about 2 months, it now feels like the time is slipping away much too quickly.  There are so many things I still want to do!

I had an email from my mom a week or so ago that said "Dad's worried that you're not going to want to come home."  Not to worry, I love it here, but there are too many things at home I miss.  So in honor of this halfway point, here are some of the things I miss and some of the things I don't.

Things I miss, but am managing surprisingly well to live without:
  • hot showers
  • pizza
  • my shoes
  • green tea
  • reliable electricity
  • English speakers
  • pants
  • pavement
  • my bike
 Things I miss and cannot live without:
  • Benjamin
  • Charlie
  • Ray
  • Karina
  • Anna
  • Arne
  • Spohr baby coming soon
  • My siblings
  • My parents
  • My Saturday morning coffee friends
  • Book Club
  • Long phone conversations with my mom and sisters
Things I am quite enjoying being away from:
  • My car
  • Yard work
  • My cell phone
  • Summer wedding season
  • Facebook
  • Grocery shopping
Today we are on our way to Bagamoyo, its near Dar Es Salaam and the coast of the Indian Ocean.  Its our little vacation.  It will be fun to take a few days away from Uswaa and enjoy the history of this place and perhaps the beauty and peace of the coastline.

It is hard to believe this time is halfway gone, but it has been surprisingly great so far and I'm looking forward to what is yet to come!

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Visiting Irene (Part 2 of 3)

Irene’s family wanted to give gifts to me. Her mother and one sister went into the house and came out with a basket full of bananas, avocados, and eggs. This family has almost nothing more than what they are able to support their children with and here they are overflowing with generosity and love for me.

Then there is Baraka. Irene’s 7 year old brother who sat there with us the whole time as we talked about Irene and her family. At some point, as quietly as he could, he snuck away and when he reappeared he was holding 2 guinea pigs.

This little boy holding these two prized possessions startled me for a few moments. After the initial shock wore off I realized that he was offering them to me. This was a gift he was giving to me.

Now when I see guinea pigs, I just see rodents. I am not an animal lover by nature. I’m sorry to those of you who are, but if I pet your cats and dogs, it’s not because I want to, but because I feel obligated. When I saw that those guinea pigs were a gift for me I knew I had to suck it up and receive them because this little boy was offering what he had.

Later that evening we took Irene and three other students into town to go out for pizza. Irene leaned over to me with the biggest smile on her face and she said, “My brother saw you at church and he knows who you are and he was so happy to have you come to our home.”

Nobody told him to do it. He had the idea from his own heart. His name, Baraka, means “blessing” and this little boy exudes blessing.

Don’t worry, I’m not bringing home the guinea pigs. There is this nice tradition in Tanzania that if you are offered something you can’t keep, you say, “I accept your gift and thank you, but I would like to leave this gift in your care.”

Whew! I can now say that I own two guinea pigs. I named them “Michael” and “Greg” and they are staying in Tanzania in the care of 7 year old Baraka Urassa.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Visiting Irene (Part 1 of 3)

This is Irene. She is the girl that Heidi and I sponsor through the Educational Scholarship Program at Southwood. She is in Form 3 at Uroki Secondary School.


Look at the smile on that girl! (Not me, Irene)

I met Irene two years ago. At that time she was so shy she seemed breakable and the only English she knew was “my name is Irene.” I met her family two years ago as well. Her mother and father were both sick and I remember thinking to myself, Irene is going to lose one or both of her parents in the next two years. The house was depressing, the surroundings were bleak and bare. There was no joy or laughter at all.

The visit left me feeling sad and wishing that there was something more that I could do.

It turns out, there was something more that God was getting ready to do.

We visited Irene and her family on Friday and it was like a whole new family. Mother and Father were not only healthy again, but they seemed genuinely happy. Irene’s two grandmothers were dancing around and throwing their hands up in the air with trills in their voices. There is even a small foundation for a house they are hoping to build.

The vegetable garden they are growing is massive, weed free, and prolific. Mama Bishop made the comment that we should bring the women of the Uswaa church to Irene’s home so they can see what a garden should look like.

Irene is thriving as well.  She speaks English very well, she takes initiative to ask me questions, she's doing well in school and has a goal of becoming a doctor.

I remember the sinking feeling that I had when we drove away from this home in 2009. The feeling I had on Friday was quite the opposite. I’ve not been able to stopping smiling with joy when I think of the small changes that have generated such hope into this family.

There is new life here.


God is at work and this is yet another resurrection story.

Irene's mother and father looking healthy and happy in front of their garden.

This is Irene and I with her two grandmothers.  If you could just spend a day with these two women you would absorb enough joy to last you a year.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

African Lawn Mower

This man is not practicing his golf swing

He is mowing the lawn.  This is the African lawn mower.  It looks like a putter, but on the bottom each edge has a sharp blade on each side that cuts the grass as he swings.  I think it takes the better part of the day to cut the grass.

On Saturday the Confirmation kids cut the grass at the church.  The church yard is much bigger than this house property, and kids spread out all over and in about an hour and half they have the grass cut.  Actually right now, since our big game day the grass is quite worn out and probably won't need to be cut again for quiet some time.

I'm always so impressed with the simplicity of tools here.  Gathering dried, long grasses together for brooms and bush knives that are used for everything and by young boys to old grandmothers.

The three people in this picture are the most gracious and humble people.  Peter, Emmanuel, and Mama Baby.  They work at the house we live in and they and whenever we say "thank you" to them they answer by saying "thank you."

On Thursday they were outside all working on the yard together.  Here they are standing in front of one of the gates around the yard.  These bushes form the gates for most people's property.  At first it doesn't seem all that these would be all that secure for protecting one's property.

Then I saw this.

Last Saturday, Emmanuel was out trimming the bushes/fence when one of the bush's thorns poked him. At first his hand throbbed so bad that he couldn't even move his fingers. Then later he gained his motion back, but his hand swelled up to twice the size.

He takes it all so graciously just smiling and continues his work with just the one good hand.

All this is to say that our house is secure, our African friends are both graceful and hearty, and there is a possibility that I will stop complaining about doing yard work when I return home.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Merry Christmas

Do you realize in 6 months we will be celebrating Christmas?  How exciting is that?  There will be snow (hopefully), and the poinsettias will be brightening both sanctuaries and homes.





Why wait until December?  Come to Africa, Tanzania more specifically, where there is always snow to be seen (if the sky is clear) and the poinsettias are always in bloom.

Glory to God in highest heaven,
and peace on earth to those with whom
God is pleased."
Luke 2:14 (NLT)

Let The Games Begin

Last week was Youth Week.  Although, youth week is just a name because it has really been a month long.  There have been activities going on for some time now.  But yesterday was game day and it was great!

Pastor Shao asked me to give a short speech at 8:00 a.m. to start the day.  Here I am giving my short speech at about about half past noon.  (Nothing runs according to schedule here.)

I was telling a story from my track days and none of these kids knew about hurdles.  So I set two kids up as "hurdles" and then (in my skirt) I hurdled them.  While I successfully hurdled the kids, I'm not sure I could still get over actual high hurdles!

Then I was asked to kick the soccer ball.  Think of it as the ceremonial throwing out of the first pitch.  I kicked it and the kids all cheered.  It was great! 

Then it was time for tug of war.  John got to be the official whistle blower.  There was controversy to be solved right from the beginning.  The same team kept winning every time, so they had to determine that the teams had to switch sides every round.  There were some intense moments, but eventually everyone was satisfied.

I had the idea that we should have three Americans against three Tanzanians, thinking the three American's would not include me, but I was wrong.  We quickly learned why one side was winning each time.  One side was grass, the other gravel, on the gravel side your feet could get no traction.  So in our little American's against the Tanzanians competition, we won because in a best 2 out of 3, we started on the grass side.

On to the 200 meter dash.

I probably don't have to say much about this.  You can see from the picture the intensity with which the girls ran this race.  These games were one area of the Uswaa village "Mamba" against another area "Uswaa" and each team was out to win!

They had several heats, then after that all of the winners ran a final race to determine a winner.

Now we come to netball.

Netball is something like a cross between ultimate Frisbee and Basketball.  The girls play this and they are serious about it.  They have referees and everything.

John was asking some of the boys why only the girls play netball.  Their response was "because the girls are too rough."

Yesterday we were watching the game from the balcony of the church and that the girls play "rough" was putting it lightly.  This one sweet gentle girl who works at the church quite often - who is usually so soft spoken and kind - was the most fun to watch.  She was a bully out there!

Today was a big football game (soccer).  John was the referee again.  He reported that this again was quite intense, they were on top of him for any questionable calls.  Some spectators did report that he counted two offside goals.  But in the end it didn't matter because he gave one to each team!  In the end the score was tied and everyone had a great time!

Friday, June 24, 2011

Lights


Two years ago Heidi and I visited with Job Urassa, the father of Irene, who is the student we sponsor in Secondary School. At that time he was asking if there was any way to get Irene moved into the dormitories at the school because she had to study by candle light. There is no electricity to their home. She eventually got moved into the dorms and is excelling in her studies.

I remember thinking at the time that I couldn’t imagine studying by candle light. The power goes out here all the time, so candles and flashlights are constantly in use. Someone was asking us how often the power goes out in Nebraska. They were shocked to hear us say that it was less than an hour per year, shocked. They probably are without power 25% of the time.

We are lucky, the place we are staying has a generator, so when the power goes out, the generator is usually running within minutes. On Saturday night we were staying elsewhere and the power went out at 6 p.m. We sat and talked while it got very dark until about 7 p.m. Then we had dinner by candle light, then at 8 p.m. we each took a candle to our own rooms to go to bed.

I really wasn’t tired at all, so I tried to read by candle light. I had to very carefully hold the dish the candle sat in as to not drip wax on my lap. I had to hold the candle right up to my book and then slowly lower it in pace with my reading. It was slow going. I had to set down the book and switch hands with the candle each time I turned the page. It was tedious. In one hour, I read 10 pages. (Just to compare, the next morning I read 40 pages from the same book in on hour.) Finally at 9 p.m. I just went to bed because it was too difficult to continue.

Every time I think about that one hour, I think about the kids who have to study by candle light each and every night. They come home from school in day light hours, but help out at the home getting dinner ready, the animals fed, and cleaned up. Then, when the sun has gone down, their tired eyes strain to complete their assignments next to the dim light of a candle.

I couldn’t do it. I know Mary and Laura Ingalls probably did, but not me.

So, today I’m thankful for electricity. Seriously, flipping on a light switch is small and simple and one of the most insignificant things you’ll do today, but be thankful as you do it!

As I'm getting set to post this the power has gone out again.  But its after midnight, so I best just hit send and go to sleep.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

A Few Pictures

Our friends from Southwood have arrived and so tonight I am behind on writing updates for you, so you just get a few pictures. A few of these are mostly for my mom, so she can picture where I am living and eating!


This was from our trip a few weeks ago with Benerick to the waterfall.  This waterfall is just huge and this is as close as we could get.  I have heard that some teachers from Uroki took the visitors from England down to the bottom, so I'm going to try to get down there as well. 


This is our home.  Isn't it lovely?  Its a striking difference from most of the homes we visited on our House to House week.  The flower gardens all around it are amazing (I don't think that is really very clear in the picture.)  We were away last weekend for three nights and when we returned, I said it was so good to be home.


The breakfast table.  Its cool here at night, so a fire in the morning and a cup of tea makes this my favorite time of day. 


This is Pastor Moshi, he was pastor in charge at Uswaa on our last visit.  We recently spent an evening eating pizza with he and his wife Anne and then he took us around Moshi for a little shopping the next day.  It was good to spend time with him again.  This man is likely the most humble and faithful man I will ever meet.


Finally, one of the best 2 hours of the trip this far.  These are 3 of Pastor Mmanga's kids, Kripton, Kiffer, and Harriet.  They took us on a hike around their village and it was just fun.  They showed us their church and a few little views, like the one in this picture.  They told us about different African plants and animals.  They taught us some Swahili and it was just a delightful afternoon.  This picture will certainly be one of my favorites of the trip.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Lighter Side

Here is a collection of random things that were each a bit funny in their own right, but didn't merit their own post.

On Sunday we attended a church in town to celebrate a baptism.  The Bishop was preaching a sermon about the birthday of the church and specifically how the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania has grown over the last 48 years.  The pastor who was translating to me was saying how the Bishop was comparing the church to the tree in Psalm 1.  Like the tree the church needs nutrients/fertilizer/manure to ensure health and growth.  Holy Communion and Baptism provide these important nutrients to the church.  I said to my translator "did he just compare Holy Communion to manure?"  The translator nodded his head and smiled so big.

The weekend before I left for Tanzania - Faye, Nicole and I went out to camp for a synod gathering with some Tanzania friends.  For lunch Nicole tossed her name tag over her shoulder.  On the way back to the conference room the wind started to flap Nicole's name tag around and she felt something on her back and started to jump around trying to get this mysterious critter off her back.  The same thing happened to John the other day, only it was a rooster walking up beside him at a cafe that had him dancing!

We spent the weekend with Pastor Mmanga and his family.  In the car on the way back to Uswaa Pastor turned on the radio.  At first I thought it was the news as it was in English, but eventually I figured out that it was a local pop station and their "topic of the day" was helping a man figure out his love life.  Only they were using much more specific terms than that.  They also included 10 ways to spruce up your romance.  I'm almost positive Pastor Mmanga wasn't paying attention or I think he would have turned it off.  I used all of my strength not to turn to the back seat to look at John because I knew that would cause me to spiral into uncontrollable laughter.

As long as we're on the subject of Pastor Mmanga, here are a few more of his classic lines.  When walking into a really nice coffee shop on Sunday I asked him if this was a place that mostly Mzungu's (white people) hang out.  He looked at me very serious and said "Yes, but I'm still black here."  I informed him that he is black everywhere he goes.  One day Pastor Mmanga was late to pick us up and I asked him why his meeting had gone so long and his reponse was "we had to figure out the circumstances of the situation."  That really cleared things up!  Pastor Mmanga also drives much more carefully when I am in the back seat than when John is.  John is trying to convince himself that Pastor Mmanga doesn't think his expendable!

Finally, we had this nice outdoor tea the other day and I asked Pastor Mmanga to take a picture for me.  As soon as I looked at the picture I told John, "its nice, but I'll never print it because it looks like someone took a pee on the wall behind us!"


Happy Wednesday everyone. I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of our friends from Southwood! The next 10 days are going to be busy ones - I can't wait!

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Good Night Moon

I sort of love reading Good Night Moon to my nieces and nephews.  The book doesn't really seem all that special, but there is something about the cadence of its words and the gradually darkening pages that just soothes both child and reader and prepares one for a restful, quiet sleep.

Let me just say, this book would do no good in Africa, for the noises in the night are many.

I have yet to set an alarm clock.  I guess that's not exactly true, I did once. I've consistently been waking up at 6 a.m., but on Sundays I have to be over to the church earlier and so need to wake up earlier.  The first Sunday I set my alarm for 5:30 to be sure to be ready to go on time.  However, at 5:00 a.m. the church bells started ringing and they did not stop for 15 minutes, so my alarm clock was unecessary.  We live close enough to the church that even on Sundays no alarm clock is needed.

This is not to say that I haven't been sleeping well. I have.  The first night I fell asleep and when I woke up in the morning I had forgotten where I was - that's a sign of a good night's sleep. 

But here in Africa, and more specifically on the slopes of Mt. Kilimanjaro, the world awakes with the first hint that the sun will soon make its appearance.  In the mornings here, like at home, the birds and the crickets sing, but the roosters blow them away with their wails and the roosters are many.

Then the bush babies, oh my they are loud.  I am sorry to say that my linguistic skills are not capable of describing the noise for you.  It is loud, it is intermittent, and the first time you hear it you will think that a small child was attacked.  But after awhile even the bush babies are a noise that tells you you're home.

There is a road running outside of my bedroom window.  Its a small road so you only occasionally hear cars or motorbikes on it, but there are people and carts out and about very early getting a jump on the day, I always hear those.  I can also hear the occasional dog barking, the neighbors' radios and televisions, and the very regular sound of the Muslims in prayer.

These are my daily, albeit unpredictable alarm clocks, and I've never had to roll over and hit snooze - not even once!

Monday, June 20, 2011

Sabrina


The lovely little girl in the green dress with the big smile on her face is Sabrina.  One day last week Sabrina and her group of friends followed me on my walk all the way from Mzee Nkya's home back to church.  For awhile they hung back, following at a distance, but I could hear their hysterical laughing every time I looked back at them or when I tried to say something to them.

Then they dared to venture a little closer.  They ran at full speed to catch up to me and walked along side me, still with big smiles but their laughter now mostly muted.  Though it was 2 in the afternoon they each bravely tested out their only known English greeting "Good morning, madame."  I said "asante sana" and then tried to teach them "Good afternoon."  As they each practiced this new greeting those quiet giggles turned once again to hysterical laughter.

I said to them "wewe ni nani" or "what is your name."  They each in turn gave their name in such sweet and clear voices.  The only name I remember now is that of Sabrina, because she so gently reached out her hand to give to me her package of biscuits.  You can sort of see her holding that purple package in her hands.  It was for me.  Oh the humbling paradox of traveling all the way to Africa, to have a small child place food in my hands.

They wanted me to take their picture.  So I did.  Then they wanted to see the picture, so I got down on my knees and showed them their beautiful smiles and their well balanced bags of beans.  Once again, hysterical laughter ensued, and it was such a sweet sweet sound!

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Church Motor Gauge

Another priceless conversation

This morning Pastor Mmanga, John and I were sitting in the pastor's office.  Out of left field Pastor Mmanga says to John, "John do you know about church motor gauge?"

John and I both look at each other, wondering if we just heard the same thing.

John says "no."

"Sara, what about you, church motor gauge, do you know anything about this?"

Of course I say "no" as well.

An exasperated "My God" is his reply.  (Pastor Mmanga uses this phrase quite often and it's actually quite endearing - we love repeating it.)

After we are all stumped for just a little bit, there is finally a light bulb.  "Church mortgages?"  John says.

"Yes, yes, my God, my pronunciation."  Is our Pastor friend's reply, and then, "Have you read 'Church Property and Administration'?"  (This is obviously a book he read in Seminary.)

"What year was that published?"  I ask.

Without missing a beat he says "1947!"

John and I laugh out loud, because in the U.S. 2010 is often an outdated textbook.

"Old is gold,"  is his instant reply and it makes us both laugh and love him even more!

Randomly, typing up this conversation also has gotten the classic line "m-m-m-motorin', what's your price for flight" from Sister Christian stuck in my head.  Who's with me folks?  "Old is gold."

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Sisters

On Tuesday Mama Kweka and I (along with our driver Albert) left for Mwika, Mama's childhood home.  We loaded up a big basket that held our lunch and several boxes with a kilo of sugar for each of her sister's families.  It was about a 30 mile drive once we reached the main highway, add about 10 miles of bumpy, gravel, mountainous roads before that to reach the highway and about the same 10 miles of bumpy, gravel, and mountainous roads once we left the highway to head up to Mwika.

Mama only visits her sisters about once every 3 or 4 months.  Not enough, but as often as time and resources allow.  She said that her family thought it so strange of her to marry and move to a place so far away.  But this is clearly the life she was meant to live and so she goes back home as often as she can.

We visited Elyisia, whose name means "God is my delight", Martha-Lwise whose middle name means "shepherding" and then we visited Richilyrakoke Rasiel whose name means "a refuge for help."  Mama said to me on the drive home "you met some strong and confident women today."  She didn't have to tell me that, I could see it in their faces.




Mama got teary twice during these visits.

First, when we stopped at her childhood home, she took me down back behind the home to see the place where her own mother is laid to rest. As we stood near the grave she said "here lies a very strong woman." Her mother became a widow when her 7th child was just weeks old. She worked hard and put those kids through school and made sure that they were taken care of. She lived to be 91 and passed away in 1998. Mama said "its been so long, and yet it can still get to me."

The second time was when we visited the last sister. Her sister Richily is wheel chair bound with something like arthritis. She is in a difficult situation with children who don't always know how to care for her. She and mama are so close and when they spent just this short time together today they both had tears in their eyes.

I got teary twice today too, once when we were talking about how strong mama's mother was and I thought about my Grandmothers Ann and Esther and my own remarkably strong mom. Then again when I saw mama's tears with her last sister and I thought about what a gift my own sisters are.

Okay, everyone else has probably stopped reading by now - but with tears in my eyes for a third time - here's to my mom and my sisters Mary, Martha, and Linda. I can't wait to see you in August!

Friday, June 17, 2011

House to House (Part 3 of 3)

Ya Clean Up Real Nice!

As we were out on our house to house visits I began to notice we were seeing people that I recognized from worship.  We would be walking along and see a woman carrying water back to the house and we would stop and greet her.  Greetings are very important in Tanzania.  Eventually, behind her work clothes and dirt covered hands and face, I saw a woman I knew.  A woman I had seen multiple times before in worship.

Wednesday we visited Mama Ufoo.  Her first name is actually Annaamen.  She was out working in her farm plot.  She had a big axe in her hands and she was clearly working hard.  She was barefoot out in that garden, toes deep in the soil.  She clapped her hands together in a futile effort to remove the dirt.  She walked with us back toward her house and welcomed us in.

We had a very nice visit with her.  She is a widow, has been for three years.  Her daughter usually stays with her, but at this time is away visiting her sisters in Arusha.  While her life is difficult she finds her hope in God, being a part of the church has given purpose to her life in these very difficult times.

I sat there in her home, looking at those dirt floors and her dirty, shoeless feet and I thought to myself, I guess if you live here, you just have to resign yourself to the fact that you're going to be dirty most of the time.  I am eager to accept this kind of living for a week in the boundary waters, but it is hard to think that this is her life day in and day out.

On Sunday, I helped out at our house preparing snacks for tea.  We cooked everything in pots over an open fire.  So in the African kitchen, not only do you have to get a little fire going, you have to collect firewood and keep it burning.  Then you have to stand over that fire, smoke and all, stirring your pot.  You use this system to heat water for bathing, for cooking, for your tea or coffee, and for cleaning up again afterward.  You can imagine, just in serving meals and bathing, there is a small fire going all of the time.  In my one afternoon of doing this, my eyes were burning from the smoke, I was hot and sweaty, and my clothes stunk like smoke from the fire.

Then Thursday afternoon I saw Annaamen in the class I was teaching.  It took me a moment to recognize her because she was clean, dressed up, and even wearing shoes.  She looked so nice. 

I just thought to myself how good it is that she has this church to come to.  Hopefully it doesn't sound patronizing to say this, but the gathering of God's people is so good in so many ways.  She has a reason to get cleaned up, to venture away from her physically demanding work, and to join in conversation, faith and laughter with other women.

These house to house visits are teaching me that in Africa being a part of the church is healthy both spiritually and physically.  People need to have a reason to get clean, to get dressed up, to spend time with each other and to join others in worshiping God.

A Dirty Story

My dad used to always say, "ya wanna hear a dirty joke?"

Whether or not a person willingly obliged him this particular question was always followed by "a pig fell in the mud."  That's it, the whole joke.  Funny right?

In a similar vein, "ya wanna hear a dirty story?"

Here's what your feet look like after a day of African House to House Evangelism!


However, it must be said that this is so much more satisfying than the whole "pig in the mud" confusion!

Thursday, June 16, 2011

House to House (Part 2 of 3)

I have long known about an African tradition that I think America is missing out on.  This tradition is that the youngest son will come back to the family home and care for his parents.  They know that this is their responsibility and most take it on with honor.  I get the sense that the elderly here are seen as wise and respected; and caring for them in the last years has traditionally been no burden at all.

As change is continually happening, some families are finding that the children, especially after receiving an education, want to stay in the city and work.  They do not want to return to the rural areas to care for aging parents.  (Not so different at all from America.)  High value is placed on receiving an education, so it seems fair that they should go where they can earn a living.

During our House to House visits we met many elderly men and women, some in good situations, other situations made me want to burst into tears.

This woman lives at home with her son and his family. When we arrived she was sitting in this chair and I wondered if she was all alone, and then family member after family member kept popping out of the house and the woods. We met her granddaughter who is on holiday from Secondary school and seemed so happy to be with her grandmother.

We had communion together, she was unable to move from her chair so we brought the bread and wine right into her home.

She was so grateful for the visit, but even more grateful were her son and daughter-in-law who feel so terrible that they cannot get her to church. The visit perhaps meant even more to them.  This family, gathering around prayer and holy communion, was strengthened and encouraged in their faith and in their family.

It was a blessing to be a part of it.

Then we met this woman.

Her story will break your heart.

She had 5 children, one died in a car accident, another was killed when his house got broken into, and the other three are living with their own families in DarEsSalaam. She is all alone.

She cried into her hands as she talked with us.  Yet she smiled with joy and hope when we served her communion and blessed her.  She shared both tears and joy, but her tears are now stuck in my memory and I wonder every day what she is doing.

On these house to house visits we have seen a piece of African life that is heartbreaking and I'm beginning to wonder if one of the next steps of our partnership here is in caring for these lonely aging souls.

"Take care of any widow who has no one else to care for her."  1 Timothy 5:5

Happy Birthday to Me!

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

House to House (Part 1 of 3)

House to House

On June 7, 8, and 9 we took part in something called House to House Evangelism. I remember my first day at Uswaa when Pastor Mmanga put this on my calendar. At that time I first thought that this would be something we would never do at Southwood, and then that it would definitely be an “out of the box” experience for me. But hey, I’m in Africa, and I’m a pastor at Uswaa, so this is what we’re going to do.

On the first morning it had rained and rained the night before, so the roads were a sloppy muddy mess, but this did not stop us. The others all had rain boots on, but I just wore my crocs. We headed out, slipping and sliding along and finally cut from the main road in 3 groups of three people each to meet in the homes of the church members.

The experience was one I will not soon forget. As we walked up to each home the elder in my group would yell “hodi hodi,” this calling takes the places of a doorbell. The homeowner would always respond with “karibu” or “you are welcome.” We were either invited into the homes (muddy shoes and all) or chairs were brought outside for our small party to sit down on.

We listened to the stories of each person’s situation. Some were stories of faith, some were stories of loss, and some were stories of gut-wrenching loneliness. Then we sang, we prayed, and we offered to them words of encouragement. Over three days we visited 22 houses in all, but more importantly we got to experience the real lives of the people of Uswaa.


From the balcony of the church you see the forest full of trees. When you head into that forest, you find that there is an elaborate system of trails, a village of people, small farms and homes filled with families the same as yours and mine. You can’t imagine the beauty of the landscape with little creeks designed for irrigating farms and those big huge banana leaves unfurling to capture the sun light. You also can’t imagine the homes, the majority of which have walls made from sticks and mud and wallpapered with pieces of old newspaper, they have dirt floors, crumbling door and window frames, and the farm animals wander in and out of the home at will.

The whole time I kept thinking that I wish everyone I know at home could spend just one hour taking a walk through this village. I wish you could meet this mother of 5 who is a widow and while her house is made of dirt her flower garden makes it hers and it is beautiful. I wish you could meet this little old lady who is all alone, crying into her hands with loneliness, but whose smile is filled with joy when we meet with her and pray for her. I wish you could meet Mzee Nkya who made us this incredible lunch and then thanked us for eating it.

When I got home after the first night of these visit I was reading The Pastor, by Eugene Peterson.  In talking about his Seminary days he recalls a pastor at a teaching congregation who was asked this question:  "What is the most important thing you do in preparing to preach each Sunday?"  His answer:
"For two hours every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, I walk through the neighborhood and make home visits.  There is no way that I can preach the gospel to these people if I don't know how they are living, what they are thinking and talking about.  Preaching is proclamation, God's word is revealed in Jesus, but only when it gets embedded in conversation, in a listening ear and responding tongue, does it become gospel." (page 87)
House to house is the chance to see beyond the Uswaa church.  Here the forest is filled with houses, the houses are filled with people, and they are the church.

Thanks be to God.

Bananas!







Since its my birthday I thought I'd give you a little taste of what I'm obsessed with these days.

Bananas.

Yes, Tanzanians eat them for every meal, and tea time in between. But banana trees and their leaves also provide the most beautiful backdrop I can think of for day to day life. Those big leaves are as tall as a most adults.  They start rolled up tightly and then slowly unfurl into this massive leaf.

I simply love them!

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The Day of Pentecost


On Pentecost Sunday there were several visitors in worship, they were all invited to our house for tea in the afternoon.
• 5 Tanzanians
• 3 Germans
• 2 Brits
• 2 Americans

We had such a good time. We talked about what brought everyone to Tanzania, mostly for teaching. We talked about the school system here and back in our homes. We talked about various safaris that people are taking to see the animals and to climb the mountain. We had a little history on the United Kingdom and Ireland’s disdain for them!

We also talked about languages. The two American’s were relieved to find out our friends from the UK didn’t speak any other languages besides English either. We talked about the similarities between Swahili and German as well as German, Dutch, and English. We talked about how nice it was to have this common language that we could all speak making conversation and learning from each other possible.

Later that evening we were talking with Mama about the day. She said what a special moment today had been, God gathering people from all over the world for tea. She said, with so much conviction, this would not have been possible without God.

I responded, “This truly was the day of Pentecost.”

“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you. 
And you will be my witnesses, telling people about me everywhere – in Jerusalem, 
throughout Judea, in Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”  
Acts 1:8

Sunday, June 12, 2011

The Bucket Bath


This is how I've started the last 26 mornings.

A bucket of hot water and a blue scoop. I can give you no more instructions than that because I was given none myself.  I am happy to report that after 3 weeks and a few days, I think I've got the hang of it!

Needless to say, a hot shower will be quite the event for me when I get back to the U.S. in August!

From Burial to Resurrection

When we visited Uswaa in 2009 we attended a funeral. Most of us did not want to go. We had no connection to this person and we felt like we would be an obvious distraction to a family in grief. In the end it was quite the opposite. We all said it was one of the most, powerful experiences we could have had.

On this trip I’ve attended two funerals now and while it seems like the strangest thing to say, they have not been a disappointment. I’ve been thinking about how in the U.S. I never see dirt at funerala, it is all covered up in artificial turf and pretty fabric. Are we afraid to admit that we are dust and to dust we shall return? In Tanzania, there is dirt and somehow the dirt makes it more real.

The funeral includes a burial service in which you see the casket placed in the ground, the hole filled with dirt, a cross put in place, the burial spot encircled in rocks and then adorned with flowers. It all happens with a choir singing in the background and a perfectly orchestrated crew of family members working to bury their loved one.

The other thing is that crowds of people attend these funerals. It is an event that brings out the entire church community. They care about each other and if at all possible they make sure to attend the funeral service of a fellow Christian. The two services that I’ve attended in the last two weeks have been held right at the person’s home, burial and all. The crowds that gather pack the little yard, the back yard, the woods, and the road.

Since there were so many people at the last service I knew John would have a hard time seeing the burial.  As a pastor, I get to stand right in front (I know it sounds strange to say “get to”) and so I tried to get a slide show of the burial process. When we watched it later it seemed to say resurrection to us. See what you think:


"The grass withers and the flowers fade,
but the word of our God stands forever."
Isaiah 40:8 (NLT)

70 Eggs Per Day

This is the most recently completed chicken barn at Uroki Secondary School. This is the culmination of Southwood's Easter project from 2010. It is so great to see it up and running. This second building was just finished in the last 3 weeks and will soon house roosters and chickens.


This picture shows both barns. The first one is up and running and fully functional. We are told that it produces 70 eggs per day. When this announcement was made last Sunday at our partnership meeting there were cheers all around the room!!


This is Pastor Mmanga, pastor in charge at Uswaa and Albert, the teacher at Uroki who is in charge of the chicken project. Pastor Mmanga purchased these 8 dozen or so eggs and brought them back for use at Uswaa. He unloaded them from these egg trays and just put them in a box, John and I were skeptical that they were remain unbroken over the drive back to the church, but we were proven wrong.


I'm also fairly sure that John's six egg day was fully sponsored by the Uroki Chicken Project!

Saturday, June 11, 2011

A Temporary Stay of Execution

Fair warning: this post may not be suitable for any vegetarians in this particular portion of the blogosphere.

The first Sunday I was here, we were getting ready for worship when I heard what sounded like a child crying. I looked over the balcony to see that it was a "kid" crying. It was a special Sunday with a guest preacher and guest choirs and I thought "oh no, that's our lunch."


So you can imagine how relieved I was to find out that it was not lunch at all, it was an auction item. Churches here have "in kind" offerings of things like eggs, bananas, chickens, and goats. After the service is over they auction them off and the money goes toward the donor's offering.


Isn't it nice to know that this goat will not be dinner, but will instead go home to some sweet family in the parish???

Also, Happy Birthday to my big brother Ed who's age is now a number with the second digit of zero!  This post is for you!  I sure wish I could be there to celebrate with you.  Is there goat on the smoker?