Allow me to try this again

I take the words that I write very seriously, I always have. When I take the time to write you a note or send you a letter to express my feelings, you can be sure it is how I truly feel, and I don't intend for it to be taken lightly. Therefore, it is difficult for me to put my toughts, feelings, and opinions on a public website where I know it is accessible to the entire world to scrutinize. I generally keep those kinds of thoughts and feelings tucked away for my own personal reflection, or I share them on a very personal basis with someone I trust. If you had a chance to read my original blog from Thursday in which I did, in a moment of anger, express myself less eloquently than I would have liked, please take it for what it was worth, but please continue reading as I will try to express those feelings again, hopefully a little differently this time. But I'm still not promising I won't offend you.
Here's what I wanted to say:
As young adults, we often dream about the day when we will be able to save the world. We see a world that is broken, hurting, thirsty, and hungry. A world that is yearning for something more. We see pain and suffering, and we often feel a desire or need to fix it. In the depths of our hearts, we dare to dream that we might be the one who will change the reality of such a harsh life and turn an unfair world into an ideal one. Though most of us throughout our lives eventually come to the realization that we cannot, even in our most valiant efforts, save the world from all the evil in it, it has been my experience here in Africa that there are still some individuals who find it their intention to do just that.
In one month here, I have met individuals from the U.S., Canada, Bolivia, Italy, Germany, Finland, Scotland, Korea, Mexico, Nigeria, Uganda, and of course Tanzania. Everyone of them has come because they think that they have something worthwhile to offer this country and will attempt to help better the lives of others (I applaud them for their willingness to try, and I myself hope to return one day to do the same). Though some of them have accepted the reality that in all of their greatest attempts, they cannot actually save the world from hunger, pain, or suffering, there remain some who have yet to discover the flaw in thinking that it is still possible to do just that. They have not yet come to realize the reality of a third world country: that it has, does, and will continue to exist for a reason. Too many come with a five year commitment to an organization which may be working to do any number of things, and they hope that by the end of their time here that Africa will be a different place. They come to receive immediate gratification from their valiant efforts, but are quickly disappointed when they don't find it. Many give up early, packing their bags to head home early. The harshness of this environment isn't for everyone and the reality of what it means to 'help' isn't what most people anticipate. Working in Africa takes patients. It requires you to trust, trust that your efforts to improve even just one persons life for a very short period of time was worth the effort.
What I don't understand the most is that many of the people that come here to help think that the solution to the problem is to bring our culture to them: to bring them our clothes, our money, our food, and really just our way of life (I have to chuckle when you're driving down the road and see someone in a purple and teal jacket that looks like it walked out of the 1980's). We fail to realize as Westerners, that our way of life isn't all that practical here, nor is it the Best way to do everything! It is too often the mindset of people that if we can just westernize the third world culture, then all of their problems will disappear. With that said, one of my greatest challenges during my time here as been watching others try to adapt (or in many cases, refusing to adapt) to this culture. I am saddened that so many of them are so quick to judge it and to dismiss it as something less than their own when they haven't even stopped to think about what could be gained by experiencing this culture with an open mind. For example, this weekend, we went to a village where nearly all of the cattle had just previously been stolen by its own 'government'. (Now that is truly sad). But in the midst of this, a group of 9 of us went on Sunday to a service and before the service they gave us Chai, fried bread, bottled water, and bottled soda (things that they would rarely consume themselves). During the offering, money, soap, cloth, 8 chickens, and 7 goats (well, one was really fuzzy and cute and I decided to buy it; then Josh informed me that it was fuzzy because it had wool. Eventually I put two and two together and got "Sheep!", but it certainly acted like a goat...) anyway, they were put into the offering. This is coming from a people who just had their very livelihoods stolen right out from under them by their own government. Then after the service, they fed us all enormous plates of rice, goat liver, goat meet, and bottled soda again. Now there is something that can be learned from a this culture: Hospitatily.
Don't get me wrong, not all of Africa is this friendly nor should spending a lifetime here be some romanticized dream. Like I said in my last blog, it's not uncommon by any means to see a car or truck tipped over on the side of the road and the witnesses rushing to the seen to collect anything they can get their hands on that will be useful for eating or selling, while the victims are left to fend for themselves. And Africa is not a place where a person living in a home with four walls and running water would hesitate to steal the donated bag of corn meal from his neighbor who doesn't even have a roof over his head. It truly is survival of the fittest here. And like I said before, there isn't a concern, a dream, or hope about tomorrow because it is all about surviving today. When there is food to be had, it's not savored and saved for tomorrow because there might not be a tomorrow. Everything is used right now, today. The trees are cut down for firewood today because preserving their beauty for future generations would be unheard of when there are needs to be met and money to be had today. Worrying about dying of AIDS is far from the mind of anyone who has AIDS because they are more concerned about their family eating and finding water for today!
We must not forget, however, that the reality of Africa is in many ways not that far from the rest of the world: people are hungry, people are thirsty, people are suffering, dying, and crying out for help no matter which country in this world you step into. People are self-seeking and always looking out for their own well-being before that of others. It's human nature: survival. But too few people ever stop to hear the cry of the poor and broken-hearted. Or if they do, they give just enough of themselves to make it disappear for a while or shove some money at it and walk away. I don't want to downplay the role or value of money in aiding the poor or the homeless, nor the value of the role that a person can play through their generosity. I'm certainly not saying that every person needs to pick up their things and move to Africa and live in a hut in order to do their part. But without stepping out of your own world (I mean the conveniences of food, shelter, and entertainment we almost all experience on a daily basis) and experiencing the reality of poverty, without stepping into their world, and without experiencing tears that for the first time role down your cheek because of someone else's suffering and someone else's hunger, it is nearly impossible to understand their pain. And without understanding, there can not exist true compassion.
I'm going to go out on a limb here one more time. I'm going to write here some of what I have written in my journal over the past few weeks, so these are my thoughts and my beliefs coming out. I ask you not to look at them so much from a political view as from a sense of my own frustration. I don't say them to condemn you if you disagree; rather, to make you ask your own questions. Much of my journaling has resulted from several conversations between Audrey and I. Audrey is a self-proclaimed atheist, but she and I have developed a very good relationship and she has shown me a lot about love, compassion, and understanding. She has taught me to love people who are different from me: different in belief, different in values, different in lifestyles and choices. She has taught me to listen, not just to wait for my turn to speak, but to really listen and more importantly to understand. She has shared her tears of compassion with me, and I with her. She has absolutely no idea that she has taught me all this, and it wasn't her goal to teach me this, it just happened through normal interaction. Nor does she know that she has caused me to think so much about the way I express my faith through words and action. Please know that as I wrote this, tears were falling from my eyes because my heart is broken for this place, but equally as much, my heart is breaking for other reasons too. You will understand what I mean soon. This is what came out of me as I attempted to see my own experiences as well as her experiences of Christianity from a different light. From my journal: "I'm so very saddened that when someone asks me if I'm a Christian, I reply, 'yes', and then impulsively feel the need to follow it up with some sort disclaimer about how I don't really think that Christianity as it is practiced today is what God inteded it to be. How can it be that some of the greatest lessons I have learned throughout my life about love and compassion, I have learned from self-pronounced atheists or agnostics (and not just Audrey)?. How can it be that it's equally as difficult or more difficult to find a believer who cares about humanity as it is to find a non-believer who embraces humanity? How can it be that we can have million dollar mega-churches, yet homeless people living just down the street with no place to lay their head at night and no food to put in their mouths? How can it be that it is the belief of many that we can deny the woman a choice of abortion and then judge her for her choices in life, yet be so slow to take her into our home and show her love and compassion? How can it be that when a non-Christian is asked what they think it means to be a Christian that they are more likely to respond 'hypocrite' than 'lover'? How can it be that I have spent the last eight years of my life trying to figure out what God really demands of his followers because I know that I have not yet reached it? How can it be that the only times I can recall doubting my faith or questioning the existance of God, that it was because of the actions of a fellow Christian?" Let me explain these questions a little more, as I know I have just hit some of you wrong. Just last week, we had a group of men here from Oklahoma, very sweet old men, but in my conversations with them, they were going on and on about their Mega-church that had 7,500 members. As they talked, all that kept going through my mind is how it can be that their exists so many churches with 7,500, or 10,000 or more people in attendance each Sunday in million-dollar buildings, yet their are still homeless people in everyone of those cities.
Maybe this will sum up my feelings. In a book I read while backe by Shane Claiborne called "The Irresistable Revolution," Shane recalls a comic strip in which one guy says to the other, " 'I want to ask God why he allows all of this poverty and war and suffering to exist in the world.' And his friend says, 'Well, why don't you ask?' The fellow shakes his head and says he is scared. When his friend asks why he mutters, 'I'm scared God will ask me the same question.' " (pg. 64-65). I know that I too am afraid to ask God that same question because I know what God's response would be to me.
I guess I can't help but to be a bit political right now. But this is a pretty huge reality check for someone who has been allowed to spend most of their existance separated from the pain and suffering that some people experience as a way of life, both here and back home. It's too easy to shut it out of your mind when you're surrounded by people driving nice cars and living in nice homes and when the conveniences of life are at your fingertips. And it's even more emotional when you know that there is so little hope of ever bringing about any sort of permanant change for any of them. Nor does it help when you realize that people whom feel no obligation to God or a higher being to love humanity or demand justice in this world are still better at it than I who claims belief in a God who's very existance demands justice, love, and humility.
I promise I will leave this one for you to read, even if I'm scared you won't like it. Their will be no taking back what I have said, at least not in the sense of removing it. I will certainly continue to re-evaluate and examine my feelings as I don't believe that there is any other way to live. So be angry if you will, but John reminded me that this is a public journal to share my experiences with as much feeling and emotion as I desire. He's right! This is my experience and this is a public journal which you can choose whether or not to read, so if you don't like what I have to say or what I am observing and feeling, feel free to tune me out. I won't be hurt. And feel free to leave a comment if you wish. I wouldn't really be evaluating anything if I only listen to the thoughts in my own head. I'm inviting you to take part in my experience, whether it be positive or negative feedback. I may regret saying that, but I'll take my chances.

Pole Sana

I've decided to remove this blog because I fear that I was expressing myself out of some anger and frusturation I felt at the time, rather than expressing well thought out words or observations. The internet went out just after I posted it (imagine that) and I didn't have a chance to edit it or read back through it until now. The things I wrote in it were weighing on my mind and heart heavily, and I didn't have a sense of peace about how I expressed myself. I was a little cold in that moment and I feel I expressed myself as such. I also fear that I may have offended people reading this, and that wasn't my intention. It was an inner frustration with the way I see myself conducting my own life that I was trying to convey, but how I feel my life should be conducted or how I feel God prompting me to lead my life is not going to be the same as it is for anyone else. In fact, I often need to remind myself that we all play different roles in this world and that with the right heart and the right motivation, all of these roles can work together for a common purpose.
I appologize if you found my words condeming in any way in my previous entry. This is an experience that I know will change my life and the way I view myself, the world, and the role I play in the world, but it is not for me to try and tell anyone else how they should think or conduct themselves. It would be unreasonable for me to think that through this emotionally and observationally driven experience that I can transform other people's lives and world views. I certainly do believe that the opportunity to see the world is the greatest classroom, and I would encourage everyone to take hold of opportunities like this one. But I must remember that everyone is going to come away from an experience like this with something different and everyone will be affected/changed in his or her own way. More importantly, I can't expect other people who are not sharing in this experience to be able to empathize with me in the capacity I wish that they could. In the future I hope to share with you my experiences and observations in a more objective manner, and keep my opinions in a separate place where I can use them to reflect on my own life and my own world view.
Please accept my applogy if I offended you and know that my anger is more self-directed than anything else. To all of you who are official followers of my blog, I care about all of you very much and appreciate you sharing my my experience.

Dar, Zanzibar, Bagamoyo, and Paul almost eaten by a Croc.

What a Weekend!! I couldn't have hoped for a better trip than the opportunity to travel with Paul and Audrey to Dar es Salaam, Zanzibar, and Bagamoyo. There is so much to say and I'm going to try hard to recall all of the highlights, but there were far too many to count.

Our venture started on Thursday afternoon when Paul (Audrey's significant other) came to pick us up and head out to Dar. Dar is the old capital of Tanzania and still has most of the government buildings, even though Dodoma is new captial. It's a pretty well developed city because there are people all over the world putting up builidings there. Thursday night we spent at the home of Gille, a long time friend of Paul's. Paul met Gille when Gille was writing some stories for National Geographic magazine and needed Paul's assistance to earn the trust of the locals and the villagers. As a result of their collaboration, Gille has published a neat article in the July 2004 publication of National Geographic about elephant hunting in Africa. It's been so great to have the opportunity to hear the stories of other white people who have spent so much time and who have so much experience traveling into some of the most dangerous parts of Africa. It really opens up your eyes to the reality of this place. It's real life and real experiences. Things that most people who have visited Africa never learn about.

Friday morning, we hopped on a boat to Zanzibar. On the way, we were lucky enough to see a whole group of dolphins surfacing and a few jumping in the water. It was pretty incredible, and it's so much better when they are in the wild and you're not expecting it.

Once in Zanzibar, it was like a whole different world. The population there is something like 90% Muslim which makes for interesting experiences when you're trying to sleep in a hotel next to a mosque and everymorning at about 4 and again at 5 the Muslims at the mosques are yelling (and I mean Yelling), "Amka!!! Amka!!! Amka!!" Which means "Get up, Get up, Get up!!!" This would go on for about 15 minutes before they would finally give it a rest, and it woke me up every morning. But other than that, the experience was amazing. Every morning, we walked the streets of Zanzibar checking out shops, trying out random coffee shops, went on hikes through the back forests (Gille was looking for some unique art pieces or trees that could become art pieces to put in his house), and went into the markets, and down to the bay where all of the fisherman were out bringing in fish. We also went to Paje one morning which is a really nice beach, unfortunately full of hotels these days, but still absolutely beautiful. Everyday at 4, we headed toward the music festival where we got to here lots of different bands from all over Africa, some good and some not so good. After the music, we went to the beach where there was a whole row of stands set up where you could purchase a skewer of seafood for anywhere from 1 to 3 dollars each. They had everything, once again some good and some not but for 1 to 3 dollars it's hard to complain. The octupus was by far my favorite...way better than the stuff in the states.

Zanzibar's a unique city because it's so old looking and the doors are all so beautifully carved, some in an Arabic style and others with an Indian style. The city is quite quaint and the buildings are crammed together and I'm quite certain that down any given ally, at least 300+ fire codes are broken because of the wires that look like a rats' nests. It's definitely different than anything I've seen before. My favorite part was our last night there (Sunday night) at about midnight when Paul decided to test my sense of direction by making me lead us back to our hotel only using the back allies. I did quite well, until Audrey decided that we had been walking too far and must have passed it (though I was pretty sure we hadn't), so we made a turn that took us to another turn, that took us to another turn, that took us to this big open circle outside a mosque where all of the muslims were dressed all in black and sitting around in a huge circle and we had no choice but to walk right through the middle of it. It was a pretty funny experience. We kept walking and then it got even more fun because by now even Paul was lost. But the people you meet out wandering late at night are interesting individuals so it was a pretty fantastic time. After feeling like a mouse in a maze in a terrible experiement, we eventually found our way back to the main road and stuck to the path we knew.

We boarded a boat back to Dar at 7 the next morning, spent the morning in Dar shopping for supplies for Paul's work and botiqued fabrique for Audrey and I (audrey's a textile artist, so she knows where to find the good stuff). We later headed to Bagamoyo, which has a lot of historical background with the slave trade and Livingston. We got a hotel there near the beach and spent the rest of the day and this morning combing the beach for anything old or dead that was worth taking home. I collected seashell's while Audrey and Paul collected things like old rusty nails that were used in the wooden boats and huge dead crabs and bats, yes bats, because they wanted to keep the carcasses (They are both artists, so they have very creative minds). The fishing boats that filled the ocean shore were Amazing becuase they're so old looking and so unique....they were fabulous!! I could have sat and watched the fisherman bringing in their catch all day.

This morning after an excellent stay at a very nice hotel, we stopped by a place that raises crocadiles. Before we went, we bought a kilo of meet to feed to them so we could really see them in action. The guys working there hadn't fed them yet either so we got to see lots. I have attached a video which is kind of long, but absolutetly worth it. I'm not quite sure how I got this on film, but Paul is so glad that I did. A piece of meat got thrown down right in front of us so we could get some close up footage of these big guys in action. Paul was busy looking the other way and I happened to turn my camera to catch another piece of meet being attacked. But while we were both looking the other way, a croc right in front of us got on the back of the other and decided that Paul's hand would make good dessert. You'll have to watch the video to see it all. He's pretty lucky he only had two scratches on his hand and not a bloody stump. But it's a story he'll have for the rest of his life and I'm glad I was their to witness it.

Overall, the weekend was more than I could have hoped for. I never could have planned it on my own or even with other people because Paul and Gille know the best places in town and they know where to take you for the best experiences and the ones that the tourists never know about.

There are more stories I could share, but I'll have to finish them later. Now I need to go study so I can catch up with Josh on the Swahili lessons. But this trip was a good opportunity to get out among the people and use what I know. I feel like I could get out and manage my way around all right, so it was a beneficial experience as well. I enjoy the opportunities to get out into the towns and among the people because it's always so interesting what stories you come home with. Can't wait for my next outing.

...and the excitement continues

I apologize if I have left all of you worried about me. Friday just after I posted my blog, there was an incredible thunderstorm and all of the power went out...for five days. And the internet in Morogoro is still being repaired. Much has happened since the last time I wrote, but I'll try to recall as much as I can. Sunday we went to another village very deep in the bush. As soon as we turned of the primary road, we encountered another flat tire! Luckily we had Luca, Moreto, and Kadeghe with us this time and we were all feeling healthy so it wasn't near the experience of the first one. Upon arriving at the village around noon (after an almost 4 hour drive) we finally began the service around 3. PH began by praying for rain. Unfortunately he didn't specify what he meant because within two minutes, clouds were rolling in, winds were picking up and dust was blowing everywhere. Within 20 minutes, the rains started, and they just kept coming. We were glad that prayers for rain were answered, but we were deep in the bush, like 2 hours worth of good driving on mud roads and pasture ground that is completely impassible during heavy rains. So the ride back was adventurous to say the least. To get a ride like that in the U.S. you'd have to pay good money. But once again, we made it home safely.
Monday afternoon, we went to Mikumi National Park where we stayed overnight in their beautiful accomadations and enjoyed a great meal and most importantly the wildlife. We had a great view of soooo many twiga (giraffes), tembo (elephants), zebra, Cave buffalo, impala, Warthogs, simba (lions), crocadiles, hippos, and I'm sure I'm forgetting something. One lion was even taking a siesta in the middle of the road and let us slowly creep up on him until we were RIGHT next to him. (When I get back to my own computer, I will post a picture of how close we were). It was a GREAT time!!
This weekend, Josh and I have traveled to Dodoma in order to stay with Audrey and Paul at their project - The Water Project. The facilities are amazing, the food is great, the company even better. I have greatly enjoyed both Paul and Audrey as they have so many great stories to tell about their work/experiences here in Tanzania. They are quite the adventerous couple. They have offered to take me to Zanzibar this coming weekend to join them for an international music festival. I think it's going to work out and I can't wait!! They have also offered to let me come and stay here for ten days or so during the end of my time here where I may be able to spend some time in one of the hospitals/clinics nearby and hopefully be able to offer a little help around here as they have so much going on. For now, I should go and enjoy my time here as we are leaving tomorrow.
The storms are going to continue to interfere with the power and internet capabilities, so please don't worry if it takes some time between blogs, as 'efficient' is probably not one of the first words I would use to describe Africa, especially when it comes to power lines.