No Words Can Ever Fully Describe - Photos From The Orphanage.

*Most of these photos are compliments of our personal photographer, Steve.

Loving our sunglasses.

Natalie handing the baby over to Moreto for a little while.

Natalie, one of the Swiss students

He seemed to calm down when I held him and we looked outside.

This guy was clearly hungry but I told him that I couldn't help him with that.

Peace.

Watoto Katika Mahali Pote.

(Children in Every Place) - Secondary title: Let the Children Come.

**Post #2 for today.**

Today after class we took a walk up to the Catholic Orphanage at the base of the mountains. The group consisted of Me, Natalie, Kidege, Moreto, Steve, Peter, Bariki, Omega, and Anne. It was a nice walk there and I got to talk with Natalie quite a bit. When we got to the Catholic compound, Moreto went and talked to one of the sisters and she pointed us in the direction of the children’s building. The compound was beautiful with plenty of trees and flowers and big, beautiful, brick buildings. The children’s building was in great condition – it wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t run down either. We walked over to the children’s building and walked up the stairs and when we walked through the gate/door we were met by children running across the center courtyard. Several kids came running up and hugged my legs – I was hooked. I picked up one of the girls and hugged her back. Before I knew it, I had one kid on each hip. After a good deal of encouragement, we went over to the office and signed in. We went in cycles into the room to sign in. I am fairly certain that I stayed outside with the kids as long as possible. I had been picking up one older girl and spinning her around and she followed me around a lot after that. Another girl came walking up to me and asked me to pick her up I did and from that moment on it was like she was attached to my hip. She had some sort of cream on one of her ears which smelled like zinc oxide and she smelled like she had soiled her diaper but it didn’t matter, she was adorable. I would lift her up in the air and I would tip her upside down and she would just smile and let a little giggle out. The kids loved my hair so I frequently shook my hair across their faces and they would just laugh. We had found out that the orphanage was running out of money for malaria medication and it was a pressing need for them so we decided to donate some money. Then after playing some more, we were invited to go on a tour. Our first stop was also our last – it was in the infant room. We walked in and the older kids that had followed us were sent out. There were about 6 infants in cribs. I quickly became attached to one little, two month old boy. He grabbed my finger and held on while he looked at me with a pleasant but confused look. He started to cry – I assume he was hungry since he kept trying to suck on anything in sight. But soon enough he calmed down a bit. Anne picked him up and I was able to hold him shortly after that. He was so very content being held and he loved to look out the window. Him and Steve also had several staring contests. We spent quite some time in there talking with one of the sisters about the children. Two of the infants were twins that had been born two months earlier. The sister told us that the kids don’t have mothers and that is why they are there. After the kids turn three their fathers, if they have them, are allowed to come pick them up. But all too often, their fathers never come. All too soon we left since we had to get back before it got dark and needed to get back for supper as well.
I can say that without a doubt that I left part of my heart there with the kids and hopefully we will get to return again soon.
To be honest, before we left today I was a little nervous that it would be too sad a sight – but once we walked through the doors and I saw the kids running towards us I knew that there was nothing to worry about. It was possibly one of the best experiences here so far. It was a nice reminder that even the orphanages here aren’t like you see on the ‘Save the Children’ commercials. The kids seemed happy overall and they didn’t appear to be malnourished or anything. Their genuine smiles and laughs were amazing to hear and there were so many smiles and kids laughing that it was almost overwhelming to my heart. Then when we saw the babies I was reminded of the frailty of life and how, as Natalie said on our walk back, these children didn’t choose to be born – this life was almost chosen for them. As I was looking out the window with the little boy I kept asking myself, it is such a big world out there, how much of it will you get to see? Will you get to see the good or just the bad? It is the difficult side of going to an orphanage. However the children’s genuine laughs and smiles will stick with me throughout my life. I pray that they get to experience the good and beauty in life and in the world.
(Photos will hopefully be posted soon.)
Peace.

More About Massai.

Today we got to talk to Kidege about Massai culture – and we learned a lot, to say the least. I’ll start at the beginning…
Massai are divided into age groups which each have their own special responsibilities for men – a woman’s primary responsibility is to learn how to raise a family and cook.
Ages 4-8 are responsible for looking after the small animals.
Ages 9-14 fall into the lyoni category and they are responsible for herding goats, sheep and small cows nearby.
Ages 15-29 are the warriors or morani (this is what Kidege and Moreto are). They are trained by the elders. The warriors are primarily responsible for taking care of the village – they provide protection and they herd the cattle. Warriors are not allowed to drink alcohol – but once they leave the warrior age group it is allowed. Warriors are trained during a one or two month period in the forest by the elders. Their time in the forest is spent detoxifying their bodies and they eat only meat and drink tea made from the leaves of trees nearby which are said to have amazing medicinal powers. Warriors are trained primarily in defending the village rather than going out and seeking out fights. The warrior group has a leader for the region who is appointed by the elders who take into consideration a man’s family, history, etc. He then chooses five or so ‘cabinet’ members to help him. It is then his responsibility to keep track of the other warriors and call them to action if need be.
Ages 30-45 are responsible for helping the warriors.
Ages 46 to death are the wazee and they are the respected elders in the village.
Often times, if there is a conflict that the government isn’t paying attention to, the Massai will call in other Massai from another region to increase the threat (although they have no plans on physically threatening anyone) and put pressure on the government to intervene. It is a way for them to protect themselves nonviolently from the Waswahili people since there are so many of them and so few Massai.
Massai have an extremely rocky relationship with the Waswahili people – as evidenced by the violence in Kidege’s village in 2000 and in Kilosa a few weeks ago.
Having multiple wives is becoming less and less common among the Massai. People like Kidege’s father may have more than one wife but they discourage their children from doing it and they don’t take any more wives.
With those who have more than one wife it is a very peaceful arrangement. The women and their children respect one another. Usually each wife has her own home and the children sleep wherever they would like. The husband usually sleeps in the houseofhis youngest wife.

That’s all for now… stay tuned.
Peace.

A Church Meeting At The Local Medium-Security Prison.

Today we split up into two groups - Tim and Steve went with Luka to start the building a church while Peter and I went to a church near a medium security prison with Mchungaji for a Bible Study with the evangelists. We left here around 10:30 and were at the church by about 11. It was a beautiful church shaped in a hexagon. After we got there PH found out that he had to go back to LJS to register a couple for marriage so he left us at the church with the evangelists. We got some time to talk between the two of us about religion, faith, reasons for coming to Tanzania, and things we've noticed here (all of which will probably be in an upcoming blog post). When PH came back, him and the evangelists (all people we'd met on previous village visits) talked about the news of their churches - Peter and I understood very little of what was actually being said - we could pick up words here and there but by the time we started to understand what they were talking about, the subject had changed. Then we ate with the evangelists and around 3 we started a Bible study of the upcoming week's readings. Peter and I were able to follow along a bit better (in part due to our English-Swahili Bibles). Some of the Lutheran prisoners (the ones that could get off of work duty) came to the Bible study too. We then had communion and headed back to LJS. Peter and I went up for communion with the prisoners and only after we got into the car did we find out that two of the men there were murderers. Apparently, these two men had killed an Indian Muslim, cut up his body and then used it for medicine or black magic. They were supposed to be hanged but President Kikwete, who is very against the death penalty, pardoned them and now they live in the prison since it is too dangerous for them to be released.
When we got back it was about dinner time and we had the pleasure of eating supper with PH - not a normal occurance, he usually only eats breakfast at LJS. We got a chance to talk to him about the final arrangements for our independent studies - one of the women who heads up the street children school at Faraja (a local NGO) comes to LJS almost every day so I will be able to talk with her sometime soon. We made plans to go to the orphanage tomorrow as well. But then I asked PH something that has been on my mind a lot lately - especially with me wanting to do a job like his. I asked him what he likes most about his job (a corny question, I know). But his response was the perfect explanation of why I want to do work like his - he said that he likes working with the people and he loves the solidarity here. He enjoys that fact that people here live in solidarity and that he is able to live here in solidarity with them as well.
Soon enough the subject switched to the use of black magic here. It is something that I have had some skepticism with. It is quite prevalent here and it is not uncommon for people who use it to put curses on other people. He told us that in order for someone to learn the secrets of black magic they must commit themselves to the evil and as a part of it they often are required to sacrifice someone they care about. Hopefully more will come about this soon, as PH hopes to talk with the language school students about black magic on Monday.
All in all, it was quite a day - communion with 6 prisoners, talk about black magic, a Bible study, and some time to finalize plans for our independent studies. I think that if today has taught me anything it is that even prisoners are just people who have made mistakes and that PH's job, living a life of solidarity) is looking more and more like the right job for me.
Peace.

A.M.L.N.F. (Asante Mungu Leo Ni Furahidei)

Saying goodbye.

Learning the liturgy.

Hanging out with the neighboring village's pastor during the sermon on PH's chair.

The calves wanted to hear the sermon too.

Bibi wa Kidege (Kidege's grandma).

The choir.

The women singing before church.

So many funny face in one picture.

Newborn calf

Who would've thought that we'd run into camels in Tanzania!

Looks like a scene from the Sahara... except one the cisel plantation.

(note: a new blog was also added earlier this afternoon - check it out)

I would like to add to my last post before I start a new one. Sylvester (one of the maintenance guys here) is back after a break to take a driving course in Dar Es Salaam. I am so grateful for his presence here… not only is he always smiling but he also is so very patient and persistent with letting me practice my Swahili. I swear I could talk to him for hours. Today while I was talking with him, Cho (one of the Korean men) came over and started to talk to us. Cho is such a great person. One day I smiled and said ‘habari’ to him and since then he has always made a point of saying hi and attempting to talk to me. Today we were the only ones at tea so we talked about all sorts of things through a combination of broken Swahili and English. This weekend the long course students are finished so they will all be leaving and going out to their work sites – it will be very lonely here without them. But I am just grateful for everyone here who is patient and willing to help me practice my Swahili. Where I used to think only in Spanish or English, now every once in awhile I find myself searching my brain for the Spanish word because it has been replaced by the Swahili word. Granted this is only with very simple words… more complex words still come out before I can think of the Swahili equivalent.

This is where the title for the post comes from (Thank God today is Friday).
Now to the update from yesterday – we went to Kidege’s village. He said he went home about a month ago (he’s been home a lot more recently than the 4 months that is has been since I spent time at home). We were able to meet his father on the way into the village, however he had to take a child to the hospital so he couldn’t be in the village with us today. We got there and had tea and Cassava in Kidege’s home. Then we headed off to the tree under which church is held. We waited for quite some time and eventually the kids decided to go for a walk around with Kidege. We got a nice following of kids and just wandered. We stopped for awhile to look at a mother cow and her newborn calf that was learning to stand and then also at the building site for a water pump that is currently about half built. We slowly headed back and waited again while the women sang before church started. The service started and soon enough the sun had moved and the Americans were no longer in the shade so we moved. When we did that, one of the women came over and gave me her kanga to use to keep the flies away. She asked if I had bites all over my legs – my legs make me look kind of like I have the chicken pox since I have so many bug bites. It will be a true miracle if I don’t get malaria with how many bites I’ve gotten so far. The service continued and when it was done we did the usual circle for shaking hands. Then we headed back to Kidege’s home for some rice for lunch and then we came back to LJS.The visit made me notice how people practice religion here. PH had told us before stories that many people will sing religious songs at night as a type of devotion. But I noticed that when people go to church they take it very seriously, but not to the point that they don’t have fun with it. People don’t always know the liturgy but they sing out what they do know. When people pray they tend to fold their hands and bow their heads down – it looks like a very traditional, submissive posture for praying. The songs they sing are done with so much passion. People listen very intently to PH’s sermons – they aren’t sleeping or ‘resting their eyes’ during the sermons. And just think, services here last several hours!
Overall, I’ve noticed that religion is taken very seriously here and it is more than attending a one hour service. Prayer is done with purpose and without distraction. Religion is faith. It is real. And people embrace it. Amen.
Peace.

I Am The Wanderer.

I went for another short walk to a small store down Old Morogoro Road today. It seems like every time I go i enjoy it more and more. Today, since I went on a Saturday at about noon, it was busier with more people walking to and from town, their homes, various tasks/jobs, etc. It was wonderful and I was able to meet a bunch of people again. On my way to the store (duka) I meet two people walking together in the same direction as me so we walked together for a ways and talked. I feel like there is less pressure to talk to people when I'm walking down Old Morogoro Road so I feel more confident in my aiblities and I tend to talk to more people. The man was a Catholic and the woman was Moravian. They asked where I was from, where I was walking, if I am studying Swahili, and told me that I was speaking well (a big compliment since I feel like I can barely speak). At the store I met two boys who had come to buy time for a phone. I talked to them for awhile and then we parted ways and I wished them a good day. Finally, on my walk back I caught up to a couple women walking with their babies. One of the women started talking to me quite a bit. We walked together and she told me her name was Angela or Mama Gladinus (women here are often called by 'Mama' and then the name of their first child). When it came time to part ways, we said good bye and she was telling her daughter (Gladinus) to say goodbye 'auntie Sara.' I love the closeness in this culture. It takes very little time to get people to open up to you, in fact they will often start up the conversation. I know that a lot of the attention I get from people and a lot of times people talk to me largely because I am a 'mzungu' (white person). And I know that people talk a lot slower to me because they assume that I won't understand them if they talk at a normal speed (which is a correct assumption and I am grateful for it). But nevertheless, it feels nice to feel included in the culture and accepted by the people even though I am clearly not from here. I got an email from Godi today - he used to be a teacher here (before we came) and would come visit every once in awhile, I met him only once or twice but I have a feeling that he is someone I will keep in touch with. A few days ago Omega told me that I live here now so I am no longer a tourist - at the time I didn't understand how that was possible, but as I build relationships with people here and start to feel at home here I can see that sense of living here coming through.
I can say without a doubt in my mind that I love this place and the people here. As a culture it is so communal in nature - everyone is called by brother (kaka), sister (dada), mother (mama), or father (baba). It is a more concrete way of expressing the sense that everyone is family and everyone depends on everyone else - much like family members rely on one another.
Peace.

To Kilosa and Back Again - All Systems Go. Part Two.

The men gathering with the Bishop.

Saying goodbye.

Good turn out for church despite everything.

Kids napping on the church floor.

Women gathering in church.

Our donated food.

Moving the food inside.

Like my previous blog said, we headed off to Kilosa today – the Massai village that has been having all the problems recently with rampant violence. It was an exciting day, to say the least. Our day started with breakfast with Mchungaji, like usual. He gave us a brief overview of what our day might look like and then he asked us to pull together some of our money (if we wanted to) so we could buy food for the people since most are in hiding and they cannot go out to get food. Between PH, Tim, Steve and I we pooled together 240,000 tsh – a little under $240 USD. We were able to buy maize meal (used to make uji [porridge] and ugali [a thick maize meal] – two staples in a Tanzanian diet), cooking oil, sugar, beans, rice, soap, and potatoes. The food literally poured over the small trunk of the car and into the backseat – trust me, I was sitting in the backseat with all of it. We drove to the village and it was extremely eerie – usually as we drive to the Massai villages (which tend to be located a ways off of the main road and accessible only by dirt ‘roads’) we see many Massai intermixed with the Waswahili people and then out and about in the Massai territory. But this time we drove and saw no Massai. The Waswahili people seemed to give us looks of disapproval – a big difference from the smiles and waves we get as we pass through their village on the way to see the Massai. Once we got into Massai territory things got even more eerie – we saw no one. Sheep and cattle were grazing with no Massai herders, very few people were outside of their homes, and it felt like a genuine ghost town. We got to the church and unloaded the food into the pastor’s house. Then we took a walk around. Virtually no one was outside. We walked out to the school where they had stored anything they could save and hide from the police, Waswahili, and thieves – several families lost everything they had. We were told that when people ran from the police, who had come to ‘find the culprits and bring them to justice,’ thieves followed, knowing that no one would be protecting their homes and belongings. They took chickens, floor mats, and anything they could find. Then we walked to the water tank – PH and Luka hit it and we only heard a hollow sound (talk about adding insult to injury). As we were walking, we saw a truck drive past on the road into town. Everyone stopped and stared – it even looked like a bad truck. The evangelists and pastor told us that it was a truck that the thieves had been using for the past three days to carry stolen goods out of the village. We asked PH why the Massai don’t just slash their tires or something and he responded with, “The Massai are usually a very gentle people.”
We headed back to the church to sit and talk with some men. Still, very few people had come out and those who did, did so very hesitantly. It was obvious that people were still frightened. While we talked to the men you could see their appreciation for our visit but at the same time there was an underlying feeling of sadness. Slowly more and more people (mostly women and children) came and went directly into the church. After we finished our talk with the men, we got ready for church. As we walked into the church it looked like a place of refuge – children were sleeping on the floor, women were talking amongst themselves, and there was a hint of relief. We held a usual service but it was kept short so no baptisms. We finished the service, said our goodbye, and got ready to head off. When we got back in the car PH told us that they wanted the service short so they could get back to safe places quickly but they had stayed around for awhile with us since it felt so good to be together in community for a happy reason.
I think that this visit had a special meaning for me since it is so much of what I want to do with my life – I want to be able to provide hope for people when they need it, I want to be able to be there when times are rocky and when times are good, I want to live in a place where I can help with daily problems but also work with problems that arise from injustice and violence – I want to be able to help mediate and provide hope and happiness when people need it most. This visit also reassured me of the hope and happiness that can be found in a community of faith. I was amazed at the visit today and I am certain that the sights and sounds will stick with me for an eternity. These types of things are my motivation and my hope – motivation to work for a world of peace and justice, and hope that such a world is possible.
Peace (of every kind, for everyone, in every corner of the world).

All Systems Go. Part One.

Well, today we are headed off to the Massai village where there is the violence. The theory we are operating under is that no one will harm 5 Americans. We will be taking food for the Massai since most are in hiding and food supplies are running low. Stay tuned... the next blog should be a good one.

I am aware that today is a big day in the States as well - election day! All I ask of you is that you go out and vote. When you are voting keep in mind that (as much as we may hate to admit it at times) the U.S. has a great deal of power in the world. So whoever you vote for, please keep in mind the people in the world who are suffering from war, poverty, injustice, etc.
Peace. (and happy voting)

A Day In The Life.

*** now the third post in the past 24 hours or so... be sure you're up to date! :)



Now that w have been here for 8 weeks and have gotten into a definite schedule, I thought I should probably share what a typical week looks like around here.
Monday through Friday is usually the same (unless we go out on a village visit with PH)
I usually wake up anywhere between 6 and 7 and if I have time, I will do some yoga before breakfast. Breakfast is at 7 and I usually eat with PH, Anne, and Steve. For breakfast they have bread, uji (kind of like cream of wheat, slightly different), yogurt, granola, and eggs (although sometimes they have french toast or pancakes too).
After breakfast I usually shower and then head off to morning devotions which consist of singing two songs, a Bible reading, a reflection on the reading (depending on who did that day’s devotion), and announcements. After devotions we break off into our Swahili groups and head out to the huts for some learning. Lessons are comprised of reading the Swahili book aloud and then translating as we read. Halfway through each chapter there is an exercise to practice vocab and any grammar we learned. At the end of the lesson there is a dialogue that we read and sometimes answer questions about, then we read through the vocabulary list at the end of the chapter and then do a final exercise. Each day we go through about 1 or one and a half chapters. At 10 we have a half hour break for tea. During this time I usually head back to my room to do laundry or just relax and let my brain rest. We reconvene at 10:30 to continue lessons until noon when we have lunch, which usually consists of rice, beans, some type of meant, some fruit, and some vegetables. We then have free time, which I usually spend reviewing Swahili, working on research for my independent study, napping, outside reading or just relaxing around my block. Lessons reconvene again at 2:30 and last until 4. At 4 we have tea. This is usually when we go to town, if we do so. From 4 on the night is free. I usually relax for awhile (thinking in another language all day is draining) and then study (either Swahili or my independent study). Dinner is at 6, although people don’t usually go until about 6:20-6:30. Dinner is made up of a lot of the same things as lunch. After dinner I will study for awhile and then usually head into the common room in the evening to hang out with whoever is around. Sometimes at night we play board/card games other times we lounge around and watch tv and some nights, when nothing much is happening, I will just hang out in the common room and surf the internet or read the (English) newspapers.
Saturday and Sundays’ schedule changes depending on where/if we go out with PH. Saturdays lately we have had off. So I spend those days cleaning up my rooms or doing laundry. After those things are done I will have a mix of studying and just relaxing and listening to music. Sundays (and other days we go out with PH) we usually meet around 8:30 or 9 and wait for everyone to be ready and then leave around 9:30. We pick up any number of people along the way and once we get to the village we usually have tea (again, depending on where we went) Then PH organizes things for the service – registering baptisms, catching up on news of the village, etc. – while we sit around and attempt to talk to people (we’re getting a lot better). The service starts anywhere from noon to 3 and last several hours. All of the services consist of readings, a sermon, greetings and introductions of the Americans (us), communion, usually baptisms, offering, and lots and lots of singing. After church, if we are in a Waswahili village (rather than a Massai one) there is an auction of things people donated during the auction – things like crops, fabric, livestock, etc. After the service we have lunch, although it is usually more like dinner by the time the service is finished. Then we say our goodbye and head back to LJS. The nights we go out with PH and Luka are usually nights when we go to bed earlier.
But that’s pretty much what any day here could look like – each day still has its surprises but for the most part they all follow this basic outline.
Peace.

Existential Questions

*** post #2 for today... don't forget to check out the previous one.



With all the village visits we do, and as a result, all the services we observe, I can’t help but reflect more on matters of faith. I have gained a deep appreciation for my faith and how it developed. I have come to the conclusion that a person’s faith is rooted in they way they were raised/came into faith. I believe that many people who have found their own meaning in faith, rather than blindly following the faith they were raised in, tend to have a stronger faith that is based in their own experiences and worldviews. Others follow the faith that has been drilled into their heads since they were baptized without question. I love that the people here whom we have met who are members of the Christian faith are so committed to their faith and I believe that it is the result of knowing what it means to struggle and choosing to enter the faith community and then letting faith develop through life experiences – both good and bad.
Part of faith comes from doubt or question. Lately I have been reminded of this, once again. Being in a place like this, a country that is so very impoverished and rampant with nutrition/health issues makes me wonder if there is a higher power. No one ever deserves to suffer so faith becomes tough to resolve when you are faced with suffering and pain. (Although people in places like this may be poor economically, they are rich in culture, compassion, and joy). I guess my struggle comes more from the violence that often goes hand in hand with poverty (and just all violence in general – go ahead, call me a hippie). How can a loving God possibly allow so many innocent people to suffer at the hands of power-mongers? Many people believe in the power of prayer to solve problems, but isn’t prayer just a passive way to pretend that you are helping, when in reality you are basically idly sitting on your hands? People of faith have prayed for the end of suffering and the end of wars every single day for hundreds of years but we have never once had peace in the world.
I suppose I am torn between faith and skepticism at times. There is so much hurt and pain in the world but at the same time, I can see here (and in El Salvador as well) how much hope and joy faith gives people. Is it just an ‘opiate of the masses’? Or is faith the means by which we face struggles trying our best to emulate examples of action set forward by our prophets and the Messiah?
I have realized that part of faith is applying it. It is one thing to be able to rattle off any Bible verse but if you don’t live out the message of Jesus then what good is your faith actually doing? I think that is where faith becomes the ‘opiate of the masses.’ This is where I think the hippies had it dead on (until the drug culture destroyed them) – they lived lives of peace and love for all. Anyone was welcome into the ‘family.’
In one conversation I had with my mom shortly after I got here she reminded me that I have always been more about living the Gospel than memorizing it. It is true, I would love to see people going out and being peace-makers, lovers of humanity, and people who have a genuine concern for all people of the world rather than sitting all pious and rattling off the scriptures but then turning around and contributing to the pain and suffering that exists.
So I will pray for peace and justice, but take action to help my prayers along – I suggest you do the same… sometimes even God needs a little boost; after all, taking care of all of the people of the world is quite a hefty job.
Peace.

A Day For The Memory Books.

Yesterday proved to be yet another very interesting day full of quite a few surprises, some of which we didn’t find out about until today.
Thursday Tim and Peter went out on a village visit with Mchungaji and then Steve and I were supposed to go out to a village yesterday. At breakfast, we were told to meet at 9 am and Mchungaji and Luka would come pick us up after getting a new tire. Well at about 8:30 PH walked past my door and told me that we wouldn’t leave until 9:30 now because one of the cars that the group was going to take had broken. So PH and Luka left at 9 to get the new tire and around 9:30 Steve and Moreto and I were ready and waiting. We waited and waited with no sign of PH or Luka. By about 11 we went into the common room to wait. When PH hadn’t come by about noon we figured that we wouldn’t be going to the village anymore. We spent the rest of the day relaxing and doing a lot of nothing – which felt great after a week full of visits and Swahili class. I took a walk with Anne to go pick up the shirts she had made for her niece and nephew and then we talked again later last night. We probably talked for about 2 or 3 hours total. Like usual, it was nice to talk to her since it feels like I have found someone who understands me. We talked about all sorts of different things again – a person’s ability (or lack thereof) to heal completely after a traumatic experience, concern for others’ well-being, family, responses to people who may ridicule you, and faith and the practice of it. Then at about 7:30 at night the boys came into the common room and told me that PH had gotten back about an hour earlier. The pretty much concluded up the excitement for the day.
Then this morning I woke up and went to breakfast and PH told me, Steve, and Anne about his day. He apologized that we didn’t get to go with him and explained that the other people traveling with him had basically taken over the car due to impatience to get to their destination so he wasn’t able to come get us. They were going to a village were the lybone (Massai spiritual leader) was practicing black magic and putting curses on people. They took along a prophet who was going to tell the lybone that he needs to stop cursing people and hurting them or else he will face a lot of death.
The PH started to talk with us about the conflict that is arising between the Waswahili people and the Massai in one of the villages. Basically, some cows had been stolen and when a Massai warrior had gone to talk to the Waswahili, he was killed. From there the violence and revenge killings have only escalated. The police have come in to try and handle it, but they tend to only go after the Massai (the native minority group). But the situation here is very similar to one that PH said happened in 2000. One of the big challenges faced by people across the world is injustice and violence against the native populations. Tanzania is no exception to the norm. The conflict is still going on and many different people are working to try to resolve it. Interestingly enough, this is the village PH is supposed to visit on Tuesday (although he may not now since it might pose a risk to him as well, since he is a friend to the Massai). But when PH talks about this he always mentions a laundry list of people who are actively trying to resolve it – the church, people within the villages, the police (although they might be doing it unfairly and unjustly), and a member of parliament who had helped peacefully resolve the conflict in 2000 (which had been in Kidege’s village).
Does the situation sound familiar? The repetition reminds me of something I read in a book I have been reading in my free time here – “American Theocracy: The Peril and Politics of Radical Religion, Oil and Borrowed Money in the 21st Century” by Kevin Phillips (yes, I am aware that reading books like this for fun might make me a bit of a dork). The book says, “history repeats itself only in outline.” It is a lot like what happened in colonial America between the Native Americans and the Pilgrims. Can we never learn from the mistakes and bloodshed of the past? It breaks my heart, even after the early American took the land of hundreds and thousands of Native Americans and then killed 75% of them, we still have rampant killings of a land’s native population – something to think about with Thanksgiving coming up.
Until this is resolved, we hope for the best and I ask you to keep this community in your hearts in minds.
Peace (for everyone, everywhere).

Addition to 'I Like Your Face'

*The last post was full of pictures so please check them out as well.

In our lesson today I asked Moreto why people said I had a nice face (uso mzuri). He told me that some said I had the face of a child that was just born. I asked why they say that and he gave a very lengthy response.
1) When children are only a day or two old, they have white skin, so people say wazungu (white people) look like newborns.
2) I have soft skin and hair like a newborn baby.
3) I apparently have the chin of a child - I'm not sure how, so I'm willing to accept any explanations of this.
4) Babies are always smiling and laughing (not that other people are angry) and I have a tendency to do just that while we are at the villages.
Guess that gives me a 'baby face' - but hey, not bad things so I'll take it as a nice compliment.
Peace.

Some Photos From the Past Two Villages.

About one quarter of who would end up coming to church on Wednesday.

Hanging around on Wednesday waiting for church to start.

Waiting for church on Wednesday.

Mother who gave me her child for awhile during church Tuesday.

Tim taking a cat nap in the car on the drive to church on Tuesday.

Children at church on Tuesday.

Jimmy and Katuuk (sp?) - the Hindu couple's driver and their son (respectively)

PH and some Massai men on Tuesday.

I was decorated with all this jewelry but didn't know what to do next.

With the Massai men on Tuesday donning some typical Massai jewelry.

The boys and Moreto and the Massai men on Tuesday posing for the camera.

Photos with the Women from Wednesday

Outside the church on Tuesday.

Outside the church on Tuesday with the Massai men and Moreto

Even the men like to touch my hair.

Peace.

I Like Your Face.

The past two days we have been going out on village visits and these two have led me to a long-awaited realization. Lately I have been feeling out of place when we visit the villages and it was the result of usually being the only woman in gatherings of men. I felt at times like I was breaking cultural norms and being almost offensive. I don’t want to send the wrong image of Massai culture though – from what I have experienced, women are just as important as men, they just tend to stay separated. Yesterday I spent time observing and making some observations on it all and then today I decided to try something new.
Starting with yesterday’s visit I tried to focus on where the women were in relation to the men and how the kids interacted as well. Grown women seemed to stay separated while the children seemed to gravitate towards the same gender but were not exclusive by ay means (not to say that the adults avoid the opposite gender in public). It furthered something I had noticed about Tanzanian gender dynamics – women tend to gravitate towards women and men to men (again, I do not mean to say that this is exclusively a Tanzanian thing – it just feels like it sticks out more here since I am not native to this culture). Even here at the language school, the boys seem to be able to get much closer to the majority of the men here. I think that since there are boys on this trip, it makes it easier for them to gravitate towards one another. It seems to have taken me longer to develop relationships with the male teachers here than the relationship that is almost assumed between the females here and myself. But back to the village visit yesterday. I noticed a greater ease of relating to the children than the boys did. During a great deal of the service I would make faces and smile at the kids, each one warmed up to me quickly. At one point in the service, one of the young women in the choir noticed me making faces and smiling at her infant daughter (which Tim had been doing as well) and this woman came over and handed me her daughter. By the end of the service, one of the little girls that I had been making faces at came over and grabbed my hand to walk out of the church together. Then after the service, I had several girls around me and some of the women came over as well. I should add that in addition to the pictures of me and Massai men/young boys that now are almost protocol after service, the older women asked for pictures with me as well. This ease of connection with women and their children seemed to be a theme that carried over from previous visits. If I had to guess, I would probably say that it hints at the women’s role in Massai villages in comparison to men’s roles. Women tend to be the ones we see caring for the children while men are the ‘bread-winners.’ The men appear to be great and loving fathers but the women seem to be the primary caregivers.
Then today I decided to try a little experiment. While we were sitting in the church waiting for the service to start I sat on the other side of the church from my male travel companions and Moreto (who came with us once again). Moreto asked me why I was sitting by myself and after guessing that I was tired he asked if it was because I was a girl. Once the women and girls started to trickle into the church they came and sat by me. Experiment successful! The women and girls started trying to talk to me almost immediately. One girl asked if I put special medicine on my hair to make it so soft. Then she brought a book over (it was a book to teach people to read and write in Kiswahili so they cold read the Bible) and she read it with me. One woman talked to me for a little while and asked where I was staying and showed me who (of the people we were sitting by) her daughters were. Another girl asked me if I had any children. When the service started, I sat with the boys and Moreto. About halfway through the service, Moreto leaned over and told me that the girls sitting by us had been talking about how I ‘have a nice face.’ Throughout the service, I would feel someone touching my hair and by the end of the service, she was sitting next to me. We walked outside after service and all the young women (most of whom were mothers) had gathered around me and were touching my hair, feeling my skin, and asking if they could trade bracelets with me. The bracelet trade never went through but the girl who had been touching my hair through the service gave me one of her necklaces.
So I guess the lesson of my little social experiment has no conclusive results other than my assumptions – women can relate easier to the kids (it takes a lot less work for me to connect with the kids than it seems to for the boys) because they are usually the caregivers; women separate themselves from the men, and vice versa, because they relate easier to one another than to the men; women appear to be just as highly valued (if not more) as men they just perform different roles. Oh, and apparently, I ‘have a nice face.’
Peace.

P.S. Stay tuned - Pictures will be coming soon.

Sometimes God Just Knows.

We have reached the half way point in our trip – 7 weeks down (already!) and 7 left. It is a blessing as much as it is a curse. I feel like we have just gotten here but that is now how much time we have left to enjoy this beautiful place. On the other hand, it means that there is only 7 weeks until I get to see my family and friends again. I suppose this has been one of my biggest challenges here – I miss my friends and family. I have come to realize (mostly in the past couple days) that it is largely brought on by who my traveling companions are. I applied to this study broad knowing that I would be away from family and friends and I was okay with that, but I also didn’t plan on having three guys who were already best friends as my traveling companions. Don’t misunderstand me, the boys are fun and I enjoy their company. My struggle lies in the constant reminder that they are here with their best friends and they know and understand each other and each other’s pasts. It makes the trip difficult for me because I often find myself feeling like a fourth wheel (even though they sometimes try to make it not so) and then I am reminded that my friends, who know me and my past, are thousands of miles away.
I was talking to Anne (pronounced a-nn-ae), one of the Danish students here, about this feeling on our walk over to the seamstress and she echoed my feelings (she came with a newlywed Danish couple). Well, we went to the seamstress and, through broken Swahili, explained what she wanted to have made (some shirts for her niece and nephew). Then we walked back and headed to lunch, where almost everyone had already finished eating. Anne and I got to talk for quite awhile about some of the things that have been obstacles for me and my dreams. I should explain, Anne is an anthropologist who enjoys working for development (the same general thing I want to do). She spent some time in Ghana several years ago and at that point realized that she wanted to live and work abroad. We got to talking about life and dreams and love (like I said, a lot of things that have been obstacles for me). It was nice to be able to talk to someone who is farther in life than me (she is about 34), who shares my hopes and dreams, and who has experienced similar struggles. We talked for awhile about how, if at all, it is possible to have both love and still work to actualize dreams of peace, development, and justice. I suppose you could say that I found another hippie. We talked about past and present relationships. We talked about the human need to find love and companionship and how that balances (or possibly doesn’t) with doing development work. We talked about how it is so very easy to plan out the distant future and forget about the present or near future but how we need to remember to live and plan in the present and near future since you never know what the distant future will bring. We talked about how striving for development and peace is very much a counter-culture and how it is easy to lose that drive and passion by following popular culture but how it is so very important to maintain that drive and passion no matter what. We talked for almost an hour and a half and reached almost no conclusions but we found solace in our common struggles and in the fact that we are not alone in them.
I have been reminded more and more lately that a big part of living (or studying) abroad is that it teaches you more about yourself – it gives you and opportunity to step back and examine your life, actions, and inactions. I feel so very blessed for my conversation with Anne today – it reminded me that I am not alone and reminded me to reach deep within myself and work for what I want. Anne and my conversation was just another very-much needed reminder that God knows each of us and our needs and he has an amazing way of showing us his presence at the most needed times.
Peace.

Wow, That Was Random.

Let’s see, over the past two days quite a bit has happened. Let me fill you in…
Friday two new students came to LJS. They are a young Swiss man and woman (both in their mid-20s). I have spent the past few nights talking to them about all sorts of things. We have talked about the lack of international knowledge on the part of most Americans quite a bit. Both have been very good about not just talking negatively about Americans, but being constructively critical and at the same time realizing that Americans aren’t the only ones who can be like that.
Yesterday we went to the Cattle Market again. I’ll just say that it is a lot more fun when you actually know some Massai. We kept having people come up to us that we had met on visits and they would ask us if we remembered them and then ask us the name of the village we met them in (quite a challenge when we barely find out the names of the villages). But it was really quite fun. We wandered around for a bit with Mchungaji and then we ate goat and while Mchungaji met with some men, we wandered around a bit more. The whole dead animal thing still is leading me towards being vegetarian… this time we got to the market earlier and saw the goats with their skin cut off and hanging (like last time) but many still had their heads and legs attached… not the most appetizing sight.
We got back from the Cattle Market around 4 yesterday and I went on a walk. I walked down the Old Morogoro Road, a minor ‘neighborhood’ right next to the school. It was really nice, I got the chance to talk to and greet people as I walked. One woman I walked with for a little ways was asking me about myself – in addition to making this place feel more like home, it boosted my confidence in my Swahili skills. But when I reached my turning point I saw a fruit/vegetable stand that had sugar cane. Since the boys really enjoy sugar cane I decided I would get a piece for them to share. Turns out the man who works there had worked here at LJS for two years. He was asking me about what I was doing in Tanzania and if I knew some of his friends who still work here. Then on my walk back, I heard a car honk behind me and all of a sudden Delta, Kidege, and Jimmy pulled over on the side of the road. They gave me a ride the rest of the way back to the seminary.
Then today we went to a harvest festival at a Waswahili (non-massai) village. First, the road (once we got off of the main road) was filled with little (but deep) dry water ravines so it was a good thing Luka drove us. The service was a Reformation Sunday service and we had guests from various Christian denominations (including several Catholics) and they all came up and shared in communion together… talk about not allowing boundaries get in the way of Christian fellowship! The service wasn’t too long but the auction afterwards lasted longer than the service did! It was the celebration of the harvest so people brought all sorts of different crops as offerings. There were also several chickens/roosters and a goat – which proved interesting when people take their offering up during the service. It definitely puts a new spin on the typical church send-off when the goat is trying to eat the string tying together the sugar cane and pooping in the middle of the church. The auction was fun since we now have enough Swahili to bid and have fun with it. There was a great deal of bidding between people and gift giving. I was given an orange and black kanga by one of the Catholic men. All I heard was ‘kwa Sara’ (for Sara) and then the auctioneer came over and gave me the kanga and then two women wrapped it around me!  And then Luka and PH bought all four of us baby coconuts. I in turn, gave a large majority of my coconut to some of the kids who were standing by me – don’t get me wrong, I love them. I just wanted to share the wealth. We ate as a community to celebrate the harvest and then we left.
Finally, tonight we went out to supper to celebrate Steve’s birthday (two weeks late – oops!). We went to a hotel restaurant that we had eaten at earlier for Kirsten’s birthday. As much as I enjoy the ooking at LJS, it was nice to be able to pick what I wanted to eat.
I almost forgot, I had two more shirts made – from a brown fabric with green butterflies and small flowers. I love them. And I bought some more fabric at the Cattle Market to have some more things made. I just can’t get over the fact that I pay about $7.50 USD to have a hand-made one-of-a-kind shirt made – and it supports the local economy! Life doesn’t get much better than that!
Peace.

Tim definitely loves when we have chickens in the car with us.

Goat in church.

The road... aka the real reason for having 4-wheel drive

Drawing in the dirt... it really is a universal activity.

Finally getting into the bubbles.

The stare down.

This little guy was so patient... he just waited until it was his turn... he also was crawling and 'posing' on the floor in the house for us during tea.

Took them awhile to open up to the idea of playing with the bubbles.

Tim modeling some massai beaded jewelry at the cattle market.

From the last Massai village... I was caught off guard when Moreto just handed me the spear for a picture.

Beautiful flowers all around... one of my favorites outside my room.

This tree is just outside LJS and looks like it is tying itself in knots.

Solomon's grave. RIP.