Never a Dull Moment in Africa

When I woke up today, my stomach told me to move cautiously because things were feeling a bit queezy. I decided to get up anyway and make my way to breakfast where I ate my food slowly because I had little appetite. Despite feeling less than optimal, I decided to go along on the safari into the village for another service. As I got in the car and waited for PH to get packed up, I felt something inside me tell me to stay behind. But in all my stubborness, I repressed the voice and went along for the ride anyway. And what a ride it was. As turned off of the secondary road onto a 'tertiary road' as PH calls it, we met many challanges. A road which had once existed had now been dug up and there was no good path in site. Only cattle trails full of trees and stumps could be found. So after making a lot of wrong turns, we decided to retrace our steps and head back for the secondary road. Once we got back, we stopped to ask for directions and soon we were on our way...or so we thought. About 100 meters past our turn off, PH decided there was more wrong than he would like to admit. As I opened my door, there was the rim sitting on the ground. In the heat of the day, we all got out and tried to find all the necessary tools to fix this thing. With children standing around watching as we began to jack up the car, we quickly realized that the adaptor for the jack that would allow us to actually lift the car off the ground was no where to be found. Unfortunately, Luca was not with us because he was off helping some evangalists move up into the mountains. So with only PH, Omega, Josh, and I, there was the question floating around in all of our minds "what do we do now?" As I stood in the hot sun, I quickly became aware of how sick I was feeling. But I was too scared to actually get sick because I feared that the pressure from throwing up would turn out to be a two ended explosion...something I was not prepared to deal with in the middle of the bush. I kept swallowing hard and kept myself together, but felt pretty miserable. With no turning back I decided to suck it up. Luckily, a young man who had worked in a garage heard about our trouble and came to our rescue. Within 15 or 20 minutes, we were on our way.
Once at the village, I couldn't do much but sit. As they served us tea and fried bread, I did my best to drink the tea, but no relief came. I made my way off into the bush but only found myself nearing the home of more villagers. I found a spot where there was no one in sight and picked up a stick to dig a hole (I hadn't yet decided if it was to squat over or burry myself in) but as soon as I picked it up, a young woman came walking towards me to greet me and because I didn't know how to politely tell her I was ill, I just took her hand and followed her back to the church.
One of the Maasai men offered me a natural remedy made from soaking the soft inner tissue of the bark of a tree in water to make a special kind of tea. I had no hesitation in trying it as I knew that I couldn't hardly feel anyworse at that point. The tea worked wonders. It calmed my stomach and I was finally able to relax, so I decided to join everyone for church. I made it all the way up to communion with little problem. But once communion came and I stood up to partake, all my nausea came back in a hurry. So I tried to casually make my way out to the back, forgetting that as one of three white people in the whole village, there was nothing quiet about my escape. I quickly made my way to the bush, but only made it part way there when I just couldn't retain it any longer. Luckily, it only came up and not down too. But when I turned around and looked back, all of the children and adults in the church were standing at the window watching me. I was glad to finally have some relief, and when I returned, everyone was eager to see if I was okay. I assured them that I would be fine.
We stayed to eat afterwards, but I was only able to manage one bite before I felt too sick to take another. So I sat back and patiently waited. Finally we left. And by the grace of God, we made it home without any more obstacles, minus a few baboons in the road, but luckily they're smart enough to get out of the way!
So we are home safe, but I am still feeling a bit sick, so I think I shall make my way to bed to rest. Tomorrow we may go back to the cattle market, which I am very excited about...as long as my stomach finds some relief. I should assure you that it is not malaria. Josh had this same thing two days ago and was tested for malaria but it turned out negative, so I am confident that it is just a stomach bug that will pass quickly. In the mean time, it makes for unforgettable experiences.

Blisters, blisters, and more blisters

So, whoever said it was a good idea to hike the mountain in chakos has done a lot more hiking than the rest of us. Two of our Swahili teachers, Kadeghe and Omega, took the the three Minnesotan girls, Josh, and I up the mountain to a stop called Morningside. When we started Cadeghe and I were in the front and moving pretty quickly while the others were taking it at their own pace in the back. I was just staying with him and teaching him about American culture and simultaneously learning all about Tanzanian culture from dating and marriage practices to family set-ups, etc. The beginning of the mountain where we started was quite steep and it left us fearful about the remainder of the mountain so Josh and Omega headed back for Morogoro to hang out for the day. The rest of us had to pull the reigns on Kadeghe as he has a tendancy to run up the mountain rather than hike it. Audrey said the hike should take four hours to go up, but it only took us two to two and a half hours, and we were pooped.

It was absolutely beautiful. My favorite part about the mountains here is that they aren't surrounded by foot hills so the mountains themselves are much more dramatic looking than the Rockies or the Appalachians where all of the small hills almost take away from the size of the larger ones. On the way, we stopped at a small waterfall on the way up and were able to refresh ourselves with a little cool water. Then we made it to the top at which point I think we all had blisters starting on our feet from our chako sandals. But after a lunch of bread and peanut butter and fresh mangos, we were ready for the hike back down. The whole way up it had been very cloudy, but just as we reached the top, the sun came out and it was relentless. The way down was fine and the blisters mostly stopped, at least on my feet. My shoulders fried in the sun and today I found a few small blisters on my shoulders. OOooopps!! Kadeghe thinks it's funny so he keeps touching them to see if it hurts...and it does, a lot!! But I'm trying hard not to complain because it's my own fault. My face isn't burnt though, just sunkissed. By the time we got to the bottom, we couldn't wait to find a taxi to take us back to LJS. I plan to go again, but next time I'm definitely wearing hiking boots and a different shirt.

Yesterday, we went to another village for a service. Before the service, PH met with all of the villagers who wanted to be baptized and one of the villagers was very scared and intimidated by it and decided not to be baptized that day. About five minutes into the service, people started screaming, benches started flying, and children were being tossed out of the way, and we five Americans just sat staring at eachother trying to figure out what was going on. We thought it was a snake or someone having a heart attack, but it actually this same woman being controlled by an evil spirit. Four women carried her out as she was still screaming wildly and the service went on as usual. The women who took her out prayed over her and eventually the screaming stopped. During the baptisms, this woman decided that she wanted to be baptised after all and she was healed.

This sort of thing is apparently common here as many of them come in contact with Arab medicine men who, instead of healing them, actually give them these evil spirits, and then they think they are controlled by them. I personally have a really hard time with the spirit thing. Even talking about it makes me feel like there are things crawling on me. The only thing I can do to make it stop is to meditate on God and repeatidly say Jesus I love you, Jesus I worship you, Jesus I praise you. But on a different note, the first rains of the long rainy season are here. It has rained the last two days and it was well needed as many of the crops were drying up. (The picture is of PH. He reminds me a lot of my own grandpa in a lot of ways: very down to earth, sharp as a tac, witty and a great sense of humor...even kind of looks like grandpa, minus the facial hair. I've enjoyed him greatly and he has a great heart and a great understanding of who God is and the way that God would love these people.)

Today is another day of Swahili and reading. I've really enjoyed my down time here because it has been far too long since I have had the time to read for pleasure, rather than some big biochem text book. My next book is "The Shack" and so far, so good (thanks for the book Jeanne!!). I have a hard time putting it down.

Well back to class.

A Guest is a Blessing

It has been a few days since I have written. Partially because we have been out in the villages but mostly because I have found myself caught up in some very interesting reading. Monday and Thursday we spent in class. Tuesday and Wednesday and today we traveled to three different villages. We have an extra group of girls here at LJS who are from Agustana in Sioux Falls who want to see some of the Maasai villages, so PH has asked Josh and I to join them. He says that after they leave on Monday, we'll be in class more often. I am excited for that because I really like learning Swahili but I also really want to be able to speak it well so that when we go to the villages I can actually communicate.
Our trip on Wednesday was a lot of fun because PH and Luca had to take care of some church business which meant that Josh and I and the three other girls were the target of attention. The Maasai wanted us to teach them english and in the process we were able to pick up some swahili. It's a lot of fun trying to communicate through a huge language barrier when it's just for pure entertainment. The church services themselves are pretty routine as PH gives nearly the same message to each village, performs baptisms, and gives communion. I should also correct a previous blog where I said that PH goes to 50-60 churches. It's actually more like 120 or so and they are wanting to build more soon. It's a good thing that the church we went to today didn't have any real walls because it would have been bursting at the seems. PH says that in the last ten years, there has been a huge response to Christian evangalists. I really enjoy seeing all of the time and work that goes into preparing for church and how special all of the villagers think it is when PH comes. It's quite amazing how they are so receptive and generous to us as guests. At all three villages, there was no warning about five extra guests showing up, yet they always make enough chai and fried bread for us before the service, and after the service, they feed us enormous plates of rice with beans and either chicken or goat. They give us a special table, feed us first and give us so much when they often don't have much to give. When we are done, they eat what is left over. It's so different than in the U.S. where we fear the extra guests because we aren't prepared for them or they sometimes seem like a burden. Here the guests are pure blessings and they thank us over and over for coming. I often don't know how to feel because I feel bad sitting in the nice chairs, drinking bottled water that they have purchased, and eating rice with beans and meat while they sit in the back on benches, drink unclean water, and essentially eat our leftovers of mostly just rice. At the same time, it would be an insult to them not to accept it. It's a very uncomfortable position for me, but my greatest fear is affending them, so I always accept what I am given.

As far as my reading goes, I just finished the book "The Desert Flower" about a young Somolian girl who runs away to escape an arranged marriage and ultimately finds herself in London and becomes a model. Her story about growing up in Somolia and all that she went through, including her circumcision, is heart-wrenching. I had a hard time getting through some of it, but it was too good to put down. I wouldn't recommend it for audiences of all ages, but it is certainly a must read for anyone who wants to understand more about African culture.
Tomorrow, we are going to climb the mountain right near LJS, so I should probably get some sleep as it is going to be a good workout. I'm not sure how high it is, but the peaks of the mountains are normally in the clouds so I'm going to say it is a fairly decent hike. Hopefully I'll have more time to write this weekend. Until then, usiku mwema (good night).

Before anything else, there is always hospitality

Today Pastor Haferman (PH) took us into a village where Luca (a close friend of PH who has also been through seminary) has just finished building a church. We left LJS around 8:30 this morning, as not to be late, and arrived at the village somewhere around 10:00 because we had to take about an hour stretch on a one lane dirt road. Upon our arrival, a few people had come to a building near the church where they began preparing a milk base tea and fried bread for us to eat. We all greated one another and patiently waited for tea time to begin. As Pastor Haferman says, before anything else, there is always hospitality...and after anything there is also hospitality. After tea time, we continued to wait for more villagers to arrive and for PH and Luca to prepare for the service. While waiting for the service to begin, Audrey (a pale-skinned Canadian) and I tried to interact with the children. Many of them just stared at us becaust it is so rare for them to see a white person. In fact, there was a young child no more than 2 years old who began screaming frantically at the sight of us. It's as though they think we are ghosts.

Once the church was full, the service began with many of the women from the village leading songs in their native tongue. In this particular village, it is mostly woman who come to church while many of the men continue to resist the church; however, there were a few older men present and many young boys. I couldn't understand much of the sermon as PH and Luca delivered it all in Swahili. They also performed several baptisms because this is only one of 50 some churches PH travels to and is only able to visit each church about twice a year.

At the end of a service, an offering is taken up and people from the village donate all sorts of strange/useful things: soaps, fabrics, pineapples, bottled beverages, jewelry, even a live chicken. After the service, the offerings are taken outside where everyone gathers around for an auction of the newly collected items. The money collected from the auction goes back into the offering, and from there I do not yet know what happens to it (I suppose to meet the needs of the villagers, but I will have to ask PH about that). Today, the first item up for bid was the live chicken and PH and I were both trying to buy it until I finally bought it for 7,000 shillings (about $6.50 US). I thought aboht taking it back to the school and keeping it for a pet in my room, but I decided that my purchase could better be used as food than company. So I donated my chicken to a family who had just moved into town and they were very appreciative.

After the auction, the people fed us again, this time with rice, chicken and beans. It was very good, though I have absolutely no idea what parts of the chicken I was eating because none of the looked all that familiar. As we got ready to leave, everyone in the town asked us to take their picture and many of the mothers wanted a picture with their children because none of them have pictures, and many of them, especially the young children, have never seen their own face before. Mareto (a young teacher here who went with us) said he would help us get prints to take back to the villagers the next time we visit.

Back at LJS, I find myself exhausted. I can hardly stay awake even until 9 p.m., and because I fall asleep so early, I have yet to sleep past 4:30 in the morning. I don't mind being up before the sun, but I'm hoping my body will continue to adjust to this new schedule so that I have more energy towards the end of the day. Until then, I just get lots of time for reading and studying before the day even begins.

Usiku mwema (good night).

Everyone is welcome at the table

Today was a truly unique day! Pastor Haferman took Josh and I and a couple of language teachers to the cattle market and it was very enjoyable, not to mention a true cultural immersion. The cattle market is near Dodoma, miles west of Morogoro. All the way there, there were nomads moving there cattle and/or goats along side the road in search for greener grass and any where that they could find water. It is very, very dry here right now as the long rainy season has not yet begun. Many of the corn fields are vacant where the corn died because of such little rain during the short rainy season. While driving to the market, we came across several lines of people trying to find shade from the hot sun while patiently waiting for there chance to fill a few buckets with water to carry back to their homes. Others were loading huge bags of charcoal onto the back of their bicycles, some as many as three full bags, in order to take them to town where they can sell them for about $25 US each, but the result has been that there is a lot of deforestation and the people have had to move east toward Morogoro because they have turned their own land into desert land. The government has made attempts to set up small forest areas that are under preservation in order to provide the people with firewood. I learned all of this from Pastor Haferman on the way as he invited me to take a special seat in the front of the truck for our journey.
Eventually we reached the cattle market where many people had set up shop to sell their goods: fabrics/wraps that the natives wear (a.k.a. kanga, kitunguu, or cha cha cha...I believe), maasai knives and cattle prods, beads, etc. Others had set up shop to cook meat that had just been butchered and then towards the back were the cattle where you could walk right up next to all of them as they were free to roam as their owners allowed. Being raised on a cattle farm, this was definitely a fun experience for me. In some ways the experience was like a county fair, only not really at all. All of the men and women wore their traditional dress which was very neat to see as most of the people here at LJS dress more like we do back home. After walking around and seeing everything, the Bishop invited us to join him in eating a side of beef (not a whole side, but it was several steaks large). The beef was brought out as one big piece and one person would use a knife to cut off a chunk for each person until we all had eaten one and then he'd go around again until every bit was gone. Everything gets eaten that gets handed out; it doesn't matter if it was all fat and only a little meat. Even the bones get handed out for someone to chew the last bits off of (something that most of us would leave as a job for our dogs to do or at least that's how it is at my house). Nothing here goes to waste. I can't lie, the first large piece of fat I received, I had a harder time dealing with than I expected, but I just put it in my mouth and swallowed; I figure my stomach can do the rest. At that moment, I was sure glad my parents have raised me to have a strong stomach.
A little later, we repeated this process with a goat leg that Pastor Haferman purchased. It was much better than the beef and a lot less fatty. PH says that goat fat doesn't affect your cholesterol (I'm not sure about that, but I'm not too worried about it yet). The culture here is so different. Anyone who was standing by and wanted to take part was welcome to pull up a chair and eat. As PH says, never say that you're ordering some meat for yourself because it is always to share. No one gets turned away if they come desiring to take part. Everyone is welcome at the table. But that is just the way it is here. Nothing is 'mine', it's always 'ours.'

So different than I expected but so much more

I couldn't get it through my head that I was really going to Africa, not until I was on the last plane into Dar es Salaam and watched the little animated plane flying over Tanzania. Why it took that to make it all seem real, I don't know, but my heart began racing with excitement. I'm going to Africa... is all I could think. We arrived in the night, so I couldn't see much, just the airport, a few crazy looking trees, and a nice hostile where we spent the night. I could hardly make myself fall asleep, partially because of the time change, but mostly because all I kept thinking was that I'm finally in Africa. Okay so I may sound crazy to you, but I have been waiting for this day for longer than I can remember. It has always seemed like such a distant dream for so long but now, right now, I'm here.
In so many ways it is different than what I had anticipated, but in no way less than I had hoped. The people are so welcoming. When they great you, they shake your hand but they don't just let go, they really shake your hand. They hold your hand while looking you in the eye and welcoming you into their country. And their eyes...they're so friendly, like nothing I've ever seen. The people here, they walk so slowly, and it seems so strange to me. They're never in any hurry. They just enjoy eachother's company along the way and get there when they get there. I feel like I'm always walking on the back of there feet because they walk so relaxed, it's wonderful. I'm sure that I look ridiculous when I walk a normal pace, like I'm running frantically. Even the little things are different. 'Up' on the lightswitch is off, and 'down' is on. Who would have guessed? Also, I had not anticipated having a warm shower at all, but come to find out, even hot is an option...though one I doubt I'll be exploring very frequently. My room is huge: three rooms in one. I have a main room with a table and chairs and a book shelf, a bedroom with two beds and two closets, and my own bathroom with shower. I feel spoiled and am a little uncomfortable with it all. I was expecting a little closet like room with a bed and a community bathroom, something more like I would get at Wartburg. Who would have thought that I would live better in Tanzania than at a private school in Iowa.
So it is only our second day at LJS and we have already begun with Swahili classes. It's very intense, but the structure is in a lot of ways similar to spanish and I feel like I'm catching on quickly. I will struggle with pronunciation because English is a language spoken on the tip of the tongue and the front teeth, but Swahili is very much a full mouth language. It's difficult to move the words to the back of the mouth, like in German.
Well I think I shall go do a little studying/review of our morning lessons before we begin our afternoon session. K, well I'm going to say goodbye for today and it may be a few days before I write again as Pastor Haferman will be taking us to visit some villages this weekend and also on Tuesday and Wednesday. I hope all is well for everyone back home and that you're surviving the cold whether. I'll spare you the details about the warm sunshine, green grass, and chirping birds as I'm sure it would make you all envious.
Mom and Dad, please don't worry about me while I'm here. I think I'd be happy here for a lifetime.