Africa – The Journal pt.XIV

8/26/08 10:00PM (Dar es Salaam)

Well, today was heartbreak. We ate our last breakfast, lunch, and dinner in Moshi. I spent part of the morning packing.

We were supposed to go to a primary school (Masasita) at ~10:30am or so, but there was some mix-up, so we couldn’t do it then. We did get to see a huge wasp that had a tarantula captive. National Geographic in the raw. When the wasp first flew by, it was just a shock. I’ve never seen a wasp so large. It was maybe two inches long in the body, and really seemed to have some bulk to it. I made the comment that it looked like something I’d seen on TV before, a wasp that paralyzes tarantulas and lays eggs on them. Sure enough, we see it fly into a hole in the concrete, and there’s a tarantula in there. They belong to the family “pompilidae”. They are often called “tarantula hawks” or “spider wasps”.

The basic process is this: a female wasp locates a tarantula by smell, and the two generally get in a fight. The wasp does its best to get a good sting on the spider, which paralyzes it. Then, the wasp lays an egg on the body of the tarantula. The egg hatches, and the larvae has a nice snack to start out in life with. It’s a grisly business, spider hawking. I can’t believe I’ve seen this with my own eyes, but there you have it. The wasp is hard to make out in the pictures, because it’s so dark. If you look closely, you can see a leg sticking out and the iridescence of its wings. The tarantula must have already been paralyzed, because it didn’t move much while I watched. I was amazed that he wasp was so strong: it could lift the tarantula pretty easily. I don’t think they have enough lift to carry them in flight though… that would be scary.

Since there was some time to kill, the rest of the group went shopping, while I stayed at the MH. I needed to finish a book before I donated it to the school library. I had bought a Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass book to read on the trip.

We did (finally) end up going to the primary school at ~2:20PM. Montana spoke to the children about love. There was a Lutheran minister there also. He really appreciated the sermon, and it turns out that he’d recently experienced some personal tragedy as his son was killed in an accident a month or two earlier.

They had separated out all the Christian kids away from the Muslim and Catholic children. Tanzania is much different from the US in that respect. They have no trouble with having religion involved in school or everyday activities, and it looks like they even encourage it in many ways.

After we left the primary school, we went to FoH for the farewell ceremony. They opened with singing, and we all received a shirt as a gift. I cried a lot. Shocker. The leaders also gathered around us and prayed for us. I can still hear the headmistress praying “bind his hands to the hands of Christ, his feet to the feet of Christ, his heart to the heart of Christ, his mind to the mind of Christ…”

We were asked to speak, and I could barely say anything. I gave it a good try. I started off making light of the fact that I was all weepy, and then proceeded on with a fine demonstration of shaky voiced, overly-dramatic farewell speech. I’m not going to say I’m ashamed of it, but it wasn’t really one of my proudest moments either. I guess we’ll just go with “it is what it is” and leave it at that. Most of the students didn’t cry, but I think a few of the F1 girls were tearing up. We were not so strong. I wasn’t at least.

“You are fairer, much fairer, than the lily that grows by the wayside…”

Mgebi gave me a rock, which was pretty cool of him. I’d told him earlier in the week that I needed to find a good rock to take home. When I left home, I’d asked mom what kind of souvenir she wanted, and she said she wanted a rock, just a piece of Africa. I’d found one earlier that I liked, so I gave that one to her and kept the one that Mgebi gave me for myself.

Emmanuel finally prayed for me. This was another story that I didn’t really get into earlier. Emmanuel was one of the real leaders of Form One. He is a great guy (and will probably end up being a real lady-killer). On one of our outings to the children’s prison, he’d asked me about my glasses. I told him I’d had them for a long time, and couldn’t see very well at all without them. He told me he would pray for me, but we never got around to it. When everyone was clearing out after the farewell ceremony, I caught up with him and asked him if he was going to make good on his promise. I’ll take a prayer like that every day of the week, please.

I received a note from Gladness (Form One) also. Most (if not all) of us got special notes as we were leaving from the students, similar to our welcome cards. It was kind of funny, because the students didn’t deliver them directly to us, and Gladness came up two or three times asking if I’d gotten a note yet. I think she was really excited to get my reaction. It was very edifying, and a great touch. It’s nice to have something from them that I can pick up and read to refresh my memory of the place.

On our way out, a few of the third graders met us before we go on the van. I don’t think they’d be there for the farewell, because I looked for a few of them in the crowd but never saw them. I could hear little Gladness (Mahene, Grade 3) crying before I got to them. It really was an emotional moment for me. If you’ll remember, Gladness was the girl who drew the pictures for me earlier. Seeing the look on her face just went right through me. I really wept with her, just holding her for a while before we had to get into the dalla dalla to leave.

8/27/08 7:30AM (Amsterdam)

After we left the school, we ate our final supper at MH and hurriedly packed our things onto a truck and headed for the airport.

I had to check my stick (one of the several items I bought to bring home) on because it was considered a weapon. The first leg of our flight was short, because we were just going to Dar es Salaam.

I slept ok on the flight to Amsterdam, and watched a couple of movies. The flight passed fairly quickly. It’s been really easy traveling. I had Debbie as a travel buddy on all the flights, so at least I had some decent company, and she doesn’t snore or anything. I must’ve watched seven movies on the return flights.

We spent half a day in the airport in Amsterdam. Finding a place to sleep was difficult, and we ended up crashing out on some benches. Trying to fit lengthwise was a challenge, because there were armrests that you couldn’t move. I spent twelve dollars on a McDonald’s meal, just chicken nuggets, fries, and a coke. I guess it was still a better deal that the three bottles of water we got in Amsterdam on the way out. Those were $5 a pop. Yeah… airport prices plus the current dollar to euro conversion makes for expensive meals.

The rest of the trip home was mostly uneventful. I had to wait for close to an hour for my stick to come out on the baggage line in Memphis. The rest of my luggage was all small enough to take as carry on, so I was never in fear of losing anything. We made at least three requests to the help desk to have them look for it, but then never listened to me. Kim finally talked to them and gave them some good Seger motivation. After that, all was well, and we made it home around 9PM.

Africa – The Journal pt.XIII

8/26/08 6:45AM (written about Monday, August 25th)

Yesterday, we slept in a little. We left later to go on some in-home visits. We had breakfast, and then we went to the school to pick up Weniel and little Emmanuel. Evelyn and Mama Eric came with us.

Our first stop was at Weniel’s house. His father is a pastor of a little congregation of about 60. Their home is mud, dung, and sticks. They live with a few of their children. They have seven total; I think there are ten people in their house.

They live in a pretty common manner. They farm a little plot of land for maize, keep a cow for someone else because they are getting the calf, and raise chickens. The roof was tin, and they have a little electricity for a light and radio. Water comes from a faucet about twenty-five yards from the house. They have had materials to build a house since 1995, blocks and bricks donated by their church, but haven’t had enough money to build even now. The construction costs are just too high for the simply income they have. The cooking area is simply three stones on the ground to support a pot that rests over an open fire.

The pastor was a very kind and hospitable man. He was wearing a suit when we arrived, and they brought out every chair, stool, and bench they had so that we could sit and speak with them outside. We sat and discussed their lifestyle, how they farmed, and how they had raised their children.
To be honest, the situation was a little uncomfortable. It’s like “we’re coming to see you poor people and how you live in squalor.” I didn’t take my camera out of the van. One thing I really tried to do with all of my photos is show how much joy there is here. I avoided taking pictures of the kids when they were in pain (after getting out of the dentist’s office), and I didn’t feel comfortable taking photos of this family’s house. I kept reminding myself that I’m not here to be a journalist, I’m here to love them and show them Christ. Plus, with what I learned and experienced at Fountain of Hope, for many people, I may have a more effective communication of why people should help by pointing out the absolute joy of being there and the love experienced by connecting with those children.

After we left, we went to Ema’s house, or rather his grandmother’s. It also was a small mud house with a tin roof, although I’m pretty sure she had no electricity. She buys water from her neighbors. She gathers grass to sell for hay everyday to buy food. The house she lives in is actually not even hers, it is owned by someone else. I’m not sure if she pays rent or if they just allow her to live there.

I’m not sure if I can really even describe how I felt sitting there with this woman. Again, we were treated as honored guests, but I almost felt like I was intruding. She told us the story of her daily work and struggle to get food and water. It’s a day to day existence. What was really troubling is that there were numerous banana trees in her front yard, and she was surrounded by fields of maize. However, even with food all around, the plants and land are not hers, so she cannot take from them.

Ema, his father, and his grandmother are HIV positive. Ema was left at the orphanage at 2mos old, and this was the third time his grandmother had seen him. No one knows where his mother is. I believe Ema’s father is working somewhere as a painter. The grandmother was very concerned for her family, and their spiritual well being. I think every heart broke as we asked if we could pray for her. Instead of asking us to pray out her lifestyle, or for more work, or healing, or that God would provide for her children, she asked that we would pray that God would give her wisdom about how to deal with her family.

Our day wasn’t all sadness though, Ramadan ran over her neighbor’s hedge while trying to turn around when we got to the grandmother’s house. Fortunately, he only got the end of it, and the people were very kind about it. It was very fortunate that they knew the people we were going to see, and I think Evelyn did a wonderful job apologizing for us. We also stopped on the way out of town to buy two boxes full of food and supplies that we gave to each family while we were there, and of course, we gave out candy.

After lunch, the dental team went to FoH to finish the 1st and 2nd grade kids. The rest of us went to Fountain of Joy to pick up the shirts we were having made, but it turns out they aren’t ready yet. I also got some dolls for J&B&D. We spent a little while there doing bracelets, talking to Mary, and listening to them sing a few songs.

We then headed back to FoH, because it was almost five. The dental team was still working, and they finished pretty late because this was their last day to work and they wanted to make sure and finish every child. I’m really proud of them. They’ve worked their butts off and have generally done a great job. I feel a bit ashamed, because it seems like I got to hang out and have fun for two weeks, while they had to scare/hurt people (people cover their mouths now when they see Jason ) and work.

The rest of us just talked to some of the students while we waited. Kili came out again; we only saw the mountain a few times the whole time we were here. It’s a beautiful sight, and I’d really like to climb it some day.

Supper was at Pastor and Josephine’s house. They live is a nice house near town, where I’m told they actually have a washing machine, although it’s not quite the same as what we think of when we talk about washing machines. Josephine cooked some traditional Chagga food, and we sat and talked until it was late. The food was quite different. There were green bananas (didn’t care for them much), some sort of root that was a lot like potato in taste (not bad at all). Then there was the fruit of that same plant, and I didn’t care for it as much as the root. We also had some curried chicken, which isn’t bad. Overall, I really can’t complain about the food we’ve had here. Actually, to say I can’t complain isn’t even fair. The cooks at the house were incredible, really. It’s better than I eat at home, by far.

It’s hard to say goodbye, because we really spent such a very little time with the Shoos since we’ve been here. Josephine is a wonderful lady, and Pastor is quite the jokester. I really enjoyed both the nights that we ate with them.

Africa – The Journal pt.XII

8/25/08 7:50AM (written about Sunday, August 24th)

Yesterday was a fairly full day. We got up early to make the 7AM service at iCC. Pastor Shoo spoke about being a child of God and how that applied to how we pray.

The form one students lead the praise and worship. They always do such a great job. The leaders of the fellowship prayed for us also. I got Josephine (Pastor’s wife), so, I mean, obviously I’m special.
We went back to the MH for breakfast, and then went to FoH where we led the school services. They split the school into two groups. I went with Debbie, Kim, and Jacob. Again, we had help from the Form One students. There, Kim continued speaking about prayer.

After lunch, we then got to the real fun. We went to visit the first and second grades, just to play. The kids there really enjoyed it. We spent time tossing them around, and showing them pictures from the safaris. They would all crowd around us so tightly to see the pictures. They love cameras. When you started showing them pictures, you would quickly be nearly suffocated by the kids pressing in on you. The whole time we were there, you could hardly see any white people because there would be a whole pile of kids stacked on top of them.

Another thing they love is hair. They would just sit and play with the hair on your arms, head, face, legs, or chest (according to Jason). Odd as it is, people in Tanzania don’t have much body hair. Plus, they don’t let the kids grow their hair out unless they can take care of it themselves. So, we show up and they were just mesmerized. We’ve got hairy faces and arms and legs. They really made Becky’s hair a mess. With her long pretty hair, it was really unavoidable. She had also brought her glitter duster, and that was a big hit. There was glitter all over those kids. They were sparkling like disco balls.

Two that I met were really special (well, every one of them were very special, but still). One was a little girl named Joy. She just hung out with me a lot that day. The other was a girl named Miriam. She had some tribal scars on her face and chest. I believe they said she came from the Hadzabe tribe, and those scars were either due to “beautification” or possibly some sort of tribal medicine ritual. Either way, she was a terrific little girl. If it’s not already obvious, I’m a total sucker for little girls. My daughters will walk all over me some day. My four nieces pretty much already do.

Jacob was a huge hit. You’d just see him making rounds of the building running with a huge group of boys chasing him. Once or twice I was worried, because they started rough housing, but everyone was laughing, so they were obviously loving it.

Before we left, we gave them all a bit of candy: a sucker and a tootsie roll. They really liked it. We also got some group pictures of them. For some reason, Zamlata went inside and kind of avoided us. I think she was upset for some reason. She did come out toward the end to see us and get some candy (it’s a big draw).

Continuing on, we got to the climax of the day – nursery! We all love the kids there, because they get so excited to see us. When you pull up at the building, they are all basically jumping up and down shouting for you. I got to see the little darling Jessica again, and also had two more girls that also got to me. One was named Josephine. We didn’t talk much, but she stayed right by my side the whole time we were there.

But if she stayed by my side, Esther stayed in my lap. Esther was the little girl who had specifically learned my name that last time we visited nursery. From the moment we got there until the moment we left, she barely let go of my hand. Actually, I had to make her let go twice: once so she could let Jason and Sean swing her around and again to get her candy. Otherwise, I was content to let her sit in my lap the whole time. I seriously would bring her to the US if it were possible. I think she’d fit in my backpack.

I guess part of what makes the nursery time so great is that the kids just soak up all the attention. I’m sure that it’s hard on them being away from home so long at that age. They just love anything and everything you do with them. They are old enough to really play and don’t have any of the hesitation we saw with the babies at FoZ. Also, they are still young enough to just cut straight to your heart with their innocence and cuteness. The cuteness factor in nursery (and grades one and two) is through the roof. Watching them eat their candy was hilarious.

Obviously, saying goodbye was very difficult. We told them we loved them, and tried to run away before we flooded the place with tears. Looking back, it’s best that I wasn’t sure if I’d be back to see them again or not. Now, knowing that it’s the last I’ll see of them, I don’t think I would have been quite so composed.

One of the interesting things today was seeing some of the kids that were clearly little siblings of some of the older students, like Salome’s little sister. They looked so alike! I guess you’d have had to be there. I mean, I suppose I should have expected that there would be brothers and sisters in the school, and mentally I did know it, but it was still a little shocking to be walking around and see a little clone of one of the older kids looking up at you.

We had hamburgers for supper. Kim went to visit friends and we had ice cream drumsticks. It rained hard last night. First real rain since we’ve been here.

Ps. 37:1-8

Africa – The Journal pt.XI

8/24/08 6:15AM (written about Saturday, August 23rd)

Yesterday we began by going with some of the Form One students to town for street ministry. We all (and I mean all) piled into Ramadan’s dalla dalla and headed for town. I was paired with Debbie, and we teamed with John, Joseph, Joanne, and Gladness. That was the basic format: two mzungu and four F1 students. Doing the math, that’s eight members of the team, plus sixteen students, plus Abel (the accompanying teacher), and Ramadan driving. If you’re claustrophobic/ochlophobic, you may want to avoid public transport in Africa. We had people stacked up on top of each other.

We went to a market area in Moshi, where we talked with several shop owners. The first man I talked to was young, about 22. He said he was Muslim, but that he would like to receive Christ but he still lived with his family. We prayed for him and invited him to Pastor Shoo’s church. We ran into that situation a few times, where people said that their family was Muslim, and that was really the only thing hindering them.

Many people wanted us to stop and pray for their business, even Muslims. We prayed for people’s children, health, and families. No one received Christ, but a few said they would try to make a service at Hindu Mandel. I think probably they were just being polite, but we’ll see. It’s obvious that they believed God could help their wallets, so hopefully they believe that He can change their lives.

The FoH kids did a great job. They served as our interpreters, but they also had a lot of initiative. Joseph did a lot of talking with several people, especially the last man. He was Muslim, and didn’t want us to pray for him. I only spoke a little, but did most of the praying. Generally, we worked in two groups, with Debbie and the girls working together while the guys and I operated close by in the same area.

After lunch, we grouped with another set of students form Form One, and we went back to the children’s prison. There, we taught about teeth, and I also spoke on Christ’s family and our freedom from our past. Jason gave a more evangelistic sermon. I spoke from Mt. 1 and 2Cor. 5. I also tried to lead a song. It didn’t go so well. It’s been way too long since I played guitar.

The students did a drama and spoke on prayer. We also did some singing, and gave out some candy. I was really touched again by the sense that the Warden really cares about those kids, or at least that is the impression I get. He’s been very encouraging when we’ve been there, urging the children to interact and pay attention.

I always have fun with the Form One students. They operate with a lot of joy, and it’s so amazing to see how dedicated they are to the outreach they do in the children’s prison and on the street. I know that all of us piling into a dalla dalla was surely a funny sight. I wish I had a picture of it. I think it was not quite so enjoyable for some of our team members, as personal hygiene becomes a critical issue when you’ve got twenty-six people crammed into a sixteen passenger mini-bus. You just can’t help but notice, but it’s just something you’ve got to deal with and get over. Once I embraced the situation, it was actually kind of fun. It’s a bit like being in a big dog pile.

Africa – The Journal pt.VIII

Thursday 8/21/08 7:30AM (written about Wednesday, August 20th)

We went to the school at 8am yesterday morning. The teaching team was going back to FoZ, but I still was unsure about when I would do the class for Form One. After we discussed it, it ended up being that morning, so I missed the FoZ trip. That’s a little sad, because it means that I only got to see the little little kids just once.

So, I started off teaching on balance sheets, and then moved into a lecture on what people use the information for. We covered assets and liabilities, some investing issues, and different types of businesses. I tried to point out several uses for the information that accounting generates and how it would apply to local businesses that they knew about. They asked a lot of questions about phones. I was really impressed with the interaction. After the class got warmed up, they were pretty free with asking questions.

After that, they asked about my family. It was basic stuff about how I grew up, what life was like in the US, and then they asked me to teach some math. First up was radicals, dealing with roots. What a treat! I don’t feel that I did so well with that part. I made a few basic errors, and utilized that to tell the kids to always double check the teacher, because they are just as fallible as anyone else. I think I screwed up enough to drive that point home.

Following roots, they asked a few more personal questions (do you want to be married some day. I just can’t avoid that issue, even ten thousand miles from home. ), and then about coordinate geometry. I did a little better with that. Lines are pretty easy, so we just went over basic linear formula and what the variables really represent. I tried to point out that people really just use graphs for representing math visually. I’m not sure if I got into to much philosophy on that, but one thing I wished I’d have realized back in high school is that math isn’t about just getting an answer and solving a formula, there’s usually a point and a purpose to the answer. It represents something in real life (i.e. addition and subtraction means dollars and cents in your pocket when it comes to keeping your budget). I hope they grasp this, because have a good math background will open up a lot of opportunity for them in the future.

A girl named Jane brought me tea and biscuits at break. That was before we got into the math. I’m not sure if they do tea every day, but it seems pretty common. The biscuits were kind of an odd bread, and the tea was pretty good. I wasn’t really wanting anything, but Jane didn’t ask; she just brought it to me. She’s a sweet kid.

After the teaching, they just asked me questions about the US until Kim came and got me for lunch. You could spend days just chatting about life with them.

Added 9:32PM

Following lunch, we returned to the school. The rest of the teaching team returned also, except Sean who stayed home because he needed some rest. We’ve been going pretty steady the whole time we’ve been here. It’s not been too hard, but every day is pretty much planned out for you, so you’ve almost always got somewhere you’re supposed to be.

As we were walking to the classrooms, Mary Mahene (with the hat) asked if I would lead the 7th grade class in Bible knowledge. We covered the last chapter of Luke, concerning the resurrection.
Montana had went to the Form One class. When I finished with 7th grade, I had heard F1 singing, so I went to their class. Jane led most of the singing, and it was really beautiful. And just in case you haven’t noticed from what I’ve written so far, Jane and the rest of Form One will rock your face off. They will rock your world. I had a great time and even sang the chorus to one of my favorite songs, “If I stand” by Rich Mullins. It was probably not the most beautiful rendition, but they clapped anyway. I felt justified. After we ended with a prayer, led by Victor, class was dismissed.

I went out to just walk the campus, and came across little Gladness (turned out to be Mary Mahene’s daughter). She looked to be in a great deal of pain. She had had four teeth pulled. I asked if they had given her anything for the pain and she said no, so I took her to the office. Kim told me she could see the matron and get some Tylenol.

We headed back out to find the matron, hand in hand. We went all the way back and forth across campus only to discover that the matron apparently wasn’t on campus at that time.

I felt so bad for the little girl, so we just went and sat on the steps of the office. I asked if she liked to draw, and gave her my pen and this notebook, hoping that maybe it could keep her mind off the pain. If nothing else, I got one of my favorite souvenirs.

A lot of the other kids kept coming by to tell her how sorry they were for her. I guess that the girl named Salome must be one of her best friends, because she even took her old gauze and threw it into the burn pit. That’s love, that is.

After a while, another adult came along and took Gladdie back to the office, and I think they gave her something since the matron wasn’t there. We got a few pictures with the kids and headed home for supper.

Africa – The Journal pt.VII

8/19/08 8:20 PM

Today we went back to the school. We (the teaching team) basically just sat around in the morning until about ten. Then, we headed to the nursery (kindergarten). It’s difficult to describe how fun and wonderful those kids were. We taught two classes.

The first class contained Jesca (for that was the way it was spelled on her little dress), the Masai girl that I had held yesterday. Today, she was a little bundle of joy. She was still very quiet, but she was all smiles when we showed up.

The second class contained Ruth and another girl I met named Shiloh* (or so it sounded to me at the time. Turns out it was Esther.). Esther was brilliant and beautiful. She made sure to learn my name and didn’t want to leave my lap.

All the kids had a great time with the bracelets, and they all loved the cameras. In fact, it was hard to stop taking pictures because they begged. They loved seeing their faces on the tiny screens. I think we would have stayed all day, except that we found out that grades 1 & 2 were actually held at a different location.

It was so hard to leave. I walked to the front of the building to say goodbye to Jessica, and the little dear gave me a kiss. I think she would have held me all day. Add in that I could hear Esther shouting “Goodbye Ian!”… it was a tough goodbye.

From there, we went to the first and second grades. Zamlata was in the 1st grade. She is such a doll. Super pretty and I think she knows it.

After we had lunch (beans! I ate them!), we went back to the school. I had thought that I would be teaching today, but it never happened. Maybe tomorrow.

In the afternoon, we went out and played with some of the 3rd, 4th and 5th graders. I met a Gladness (Mary’s daughter [maheni]), Ava Grace, and Salome. Great girls. It started out when Mary Maheni gave one of the kids some tennis balls. The situation quickly delineated into mass chaos, mainly because the boys used the tennis balls as soccer balls, and ran around seeing how high they could kick them. Since they were quite a bit more aggressive, it didn’t take long until only the boys were really having fun. I saw Ava Grace kind of standing to the side, and so I asked her if she wanted to play.

So, I nabbed one of the tennis balls and delivered it to her and a few of the girls, who proceeded to have a nice delicate little game of catch. I wandered around for a bit, and ended up back over around there group, where they started including me in the circle. Suddenly, I was being berated for making a gross error, without knowing what I’d done. My sin was that I had apparently thrown the ball to a fourth grader… the game had become keep away while I wasn’t paying attention.

Sean and Montana soon became involved. Sean (traitor that he is) went to the evil fourth grade side, while I was the main captain for the third graders (because them’s my peeps!). What was so funny is that, since we didn’t really know the classes that well, and third and fourth graders don’t look that different (especially considering that the age ranges are larger than they are in the US), the girls quickly started to take advantage of us. You’d be standing there getting ready to throw, but then EVERY girl out there would start claiming to be in the appropriate grade. If I had the ball, I was chorused with “I’m grade three! Grade three!” while Sean saw no one but fourth graders. The little buggers were crafty! I’m sad to say that the fourth grade fairly dominated. I declare them cheaters, because I think some of their team was actually fifth and sixth grade. The extra year of dexterity really paid off for them. Since the third grade is the youngest on that campus, I think there was a little hazing going on. It was a great time though.

We wore ourselves out throwing tennis balls around, and headed home for supper. I did some washing tonight (they wash our clothes for us… except for the underwear) and half of the team went to a small worship service at a house nearby.

P.S. – I love passion fruit Fanta.

Africa – The Journal pt.IV

8/17/08 6:15AM (written about Saturday, August 16th)

Yesterday started out a little earlier, but I spent more time in prayer than usual, and I ended up getting around later. I’d taken some sedative and it worked. I slept much better. The dying animal howling has continued every morning at 5:45AM. This is kind of a preamble to my alarm, which is set at around 7am mostly. My stomach felt a little better this morning. It seems like the oatmeal (or porridge) doesn’t hurt much.

We headed to the school first thing today. The teaching team couldn’t start right away, because it was Saturday and the kids clean everything in the morning. They have tea at ~10AM. So, we just hung out with the kids and talked.

I spent most of my time in a discussion with one of the Victors. His father is a mining engineer. He lives in Mwanza, which is on Lake Victoria. We (Montanta also showed up for a lot of the conversation) talked a lot about school in the US and how it compares to what they experience in Tanzania. He says that he wants to get a master’s in engineering, then a master’s in Bible, and then possibly work on a PhD. His father is working on a PhD via the internet (mostly) with a school in South Africa.

I also spent time that morning with a little girl I met named Ruth. She is seven and just about the most adorable thing I have seen here so far. She is content to just sit beside you, and we hung out for a while just sitting on the couch resting. She really enjoyed my camera, also. It started out with me setting the camera down to work with the polarizing filter I had on the front. I could tell she was watching everything I was doing. She kind of crept up how kids do, just taking a peek at the camera and looking up to smile at me. So, I asked her if I could take her picture (because she really was a cute little kid), and of course she obliged. Kids here LOVE having their picture taken.

Normally, I’d keep all small fingers away from the camera, not so much because I was scared that one of them would do something to break it, but because when you’re in a group it’s hard to keep track of things. One kid can hog the toy, and the other kids will feel left out, so I felt most of the time that it was best to just show them pictures on the back rather than let them do it themselves. Since we were kind of alone, I figured I’d let Ruth play with the camera a bit. It was so funny watching her get used to it.

The first picture we took together. I showed her the output on the back and she just made this little “Oh my!” face. Then, she really took off and snapped off like four in a row. I’m pretty sure she would have filled the whole card up if I’d given her three minutes. Friendship solidified.

We started teaching after tea with grade three kids. I did most of the speaking and Sean did the brushing demonstration. The kids here are very attentive. We had one of the staff come and interpret for us. Because these are young kids, they don’t speak English as well as some of the older kids. We only had time to do two classes today before we had to head back to the Mission House for lunch.

Basically, our teaching centered on educating the kids about why our teeth our important, what makes them so strong, how they can deteriorate, and how we can prevent that deterioration. We diagramed a few teeth, including the gums, roots, and nerves, so that they would see that their teeth aren’t just solid little chunks. This also helped us explain how bacteria and acids form cavities, and how those can end up making our teeth hurt. Sean would then outline how to brush properly, covering gum care and flossing.

After lunch, the teaching team (Sean, Montana, Jacob – “The Israelite” as the kids called him, and me) went to the Children’s Prison. We were accompanied by one group of the Form One class.

Form One has several different groupings that they do outreach and ministry in. Apparently they do this because not everyone can go on all trips, and they want all the kids to get to work with everyone else. So, apparently, each student is a member of various group numbers. This way, they don’t end up forming cliques or getting too comfortable with a certain set of peers.

*added 9/4/08 – apparently I didn’t come back and finish this*

The Children’s Prison was an interesting place. I’ve probably gotten as many questions on it as I have on anything. Kids get sent to the prison for various reasons. It is similar to juvenile detention, but it’s a whole different country, so obviously it’s quite different. Some of the kids had broken laws, but mostly I think it was for theft. We were told that a couple may have been in for rape. Some of the children were there apparently just because they were unruly, and their parents sent them there because there were too difficult to handle.

I feel like the warden genuinely cared about the kids there. The F1 kids led singing and did some preaching. We taught on teeth, and made bracelets. It was our first experience making Jacob’s bracelets in the field, and we learned a lot from the experience. For one, we needed longer string, and we had to generate some new methods for keeping the beads in place. Also, Sean gave a message, and we prayed for them. Six came forward to give their lives to Christ.

Afterwards, we went out into the lot across the street to play soccer. I’ve never played before, and it was pretty apparent. Every time I did something silly or wrong, the warden would say “mzungu” (so the rest of the team told me). I had a lot of fun, but got really dirty and worn out. I’m not the vigorous youth I once was.

Most of the kids play barefoot. I don’t think any of the children at the prison actually had shoes, just sandals. You can’t really play soccer in sandals. The goals are just two rocks on the ground. There really is no out of bounds. You just play. Terribly, in my case.

When we left (we were kind of late for supper) we headed back to MH to say goodbye to the F1 students that had helped us that day. I gained a lot of respect for them during this experience. The MH is only about a half a mile from the Children’s Prison, so it’s not a long drive. This is fortunate, because there were a lot of bodies in that dalla dalla in need of a shower, myself certainly included.

Africa – The Journal pt.III

8/15/08 6:45AM

I think I may have gotten about four hours of sleep last night. I have tried not to mention it, but I really haven’t felt well the whole time we’ve been here. The malaria medication (the accursed doxycycline) makes it difficult for me to eat and drink. It hurts every time I swallow. Also, I think the flights messed with my sinuses some. I’ve had congestion, runny nose, and some headaches, although that might just be dehydration.

I’ve tried to explain that it’s not nausea or diarrhea; it’s actual stomach pain. It feels similar to really bad acid reflux or heartburn, except it doesn’t go away. Seriously, I started hurting the Saturday before we flew out (it cleared up after we’d been in Africa about three or four days) and it hasn’t stopped hurting yet.

You see, you’re supposed to take doxy on a full stomach and with a full glass of water. It’s pretty hard on the ole guts apparently, and having that food in there provides a barrier of protection. Well, we were fasting for a few days leading up to our flight, and you have to start the doxy regimen a week before you’ll be in the foreign country… so I was taking it on a completely empty stomach. Bad idea.

Doesn’t really matter though. I’m taking some Zertec (ed.: which didn’t help) and shutting up about it.

Ps. 27:13 – I would have lost heart, unless I believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

8/16/08 7:20AM (written about Friday, August 15th)

I’m running a little behind today. I took a couple Tylenol PMs last night. I only woke up once.
Yesterday, we started by dropping off the dental team at the school while the other four of us went to town to buy some supplies.

Added – 6:10 PM

One thing to note about Tanzanian driving is that there are very few rules. I think we came within inches of hitting a few people. Ramadan (our driver) generally just laughs at us when we yell, but we have been seriously close to accidents. It doesn’t help when we see the dents and scratches in the fenders of his van.

Throughout the trip, it’s been sort of a running gag. We clipped the sack a lady had on top of her head once. I swear: we actually hit the bag with the van. I don’t know how we didn’t hit her. They pass cars around here if there’s a passing lane or not. When you park, it doesn’t matter if people are in your way… you just assume they’ll move. If they don’t, it’s their fault.

And if the crazy driving isn’t bad enough, sometimes the road conditions only add to the tension. In Moshi, they frequently cover culverts with concrete slabs (pavers really) cut with drainage grates. I wish I had a picture to explain it better. Just imagine going through an intersection and having to put your wheels in just the right spot (like ramps to get onto a trailer or something) to avoid a two foot wide trench that is three feet deep. This is because the little concrete slabs are only about six inches thick, and they break a lot, so you get these gaps in the road. So, yeah, you’re dodging people walking (and oh my gosh the bicycles we almost hit!) and being careful not to get your wheel lodged in a drainage culvert. Good times!

We went to a couple of small shops to buy some plastic spit tubs. We were approached by a woman wanting money. The town of Moshi is a very interesting place. There are tiny shops everywhere. And people. Lots of people walking around everywhere. People see that you’re white and pretty soon you’ve got four people surrounding the van trying to sell you things. They pedal bracelets and jewelry, banana leaf art, t-shirts, movies, and other various items. It’s amazing how much English they know. It usually takes a few times of “no” or “hapana asante” (Kiswahili for “no, thank you”) to get them to leave you alone but they will eventually relent. We did run into a few people who were a little too persistent, and they wouldn’t leave us alone until we drove off basically.

We came back home and reviewed the material we will be teaching the students about their teeth. Jason gave us some material that is broken down by age range. It goes over the basics of brushing and hygiene for teeth. Not bad, but we ended up not really using it much in the classrooms.
After lunch, the whole team headed back to the school. The dental team had only got to one person in the morning. She had to have about ten procedures done, and they had spent a portion of the morning doing set up, so it’s not like they were slacking or anything. By the end of our trip, it would be truly amazing to see all they would get accomplished.

The teaching team went to the school to meet and interact with some of the students. They do not have enough teachers, so several of the classes had no adults. We started with fourth grade I think. They were very shy, so we just spent time asking about who was the oldest and youngest, who lived the farthest from the school, and things about ourselves. We had them try to guess our ages. I think I had kids guess in the forties and fifties.

There are students here from Mwanza, Dar es Salaam, and even Dodoma I think. Basically, as far as 300 miles away. Lord only knows how many hours on a bus that is. FoH is a boarding school, so the students are away from home for nine months of the year. They told us that some students (the orphans I believe) even stay in the summer, but that everyone leaves during the Christmas break. This applies for all the children, from kindergarten through the Form One class. I can’t believe having a six year old away from home for that long, but it’s apparently not that uncommon here. Boarding schools are a regular part of society. Tanzania also has regular day schools, so I guess you have options.
Our conversations were pretty much the same for all the classes until we got to the seventh grade. Sean asked them if anyone would pray for Montana. He’s developed some sort of rash or series of bug bites on him. They’ve even gotten on his feet. We don’t know what it is. We sleep with bug nets over the beds, so we don’t think it could be mosquitoes. A boy named Joseph prayed.

If you’re ever make it over to FoH, hearing the students pray is a real eye opener. Joseph was one of the leaders in the seventh grade (he did volunteer to pray, after all), and he really got after it. We noticed that the students do not offer up token prayers. When they open their mouths up to the Lord, they generally open their hearts also. It was a real blessing, because I have to admit, so many children in the US are self conscious and scared to pray in public. Either that, or they just quite honestly don’t have a real prayer life.

One thing that I noticed is that the older children are really leaders in the school. The Form One students (9th grade) especially. They lead singing, they watch over the younger kids quite a bit and keep them in line, and they definitely set an example for how you are supposed to behave at the school. In that class, they actually asked us to sit down and talk closely with them instead of just sitting through a lecture. That’s where we met the Victors. The Victors were very curious about American schools and education. We talked about politics and war and business. Once they found out I had a degree in finance, they asked if I would come back and do some teaching on book keeping and math. I’m going to try to do that before we leave. As you’ll probably notice, I’m a huge fan of the Form One kids. Stinking awesome people, that’s all there is to it.

Sean and I have both mentioned that it’s very difficult not to become judgmental after being here. I’ve made it a point to try to be understanding of our cultural differences in the US, and the environment children have to endure. Having said that, when you see these kids struggling for their livelihood, fighting for their education, asking you to teach them, praying with power and faith, and taking responsibility for their lives, it’s hard not to look at our youth (and adults, for that matter) and not be disheartened.

But it is a different environment. In Tanzania, if you don’t have an education and a good job, you’re going to live in a house made of mud, cow crap, and sticks. Or maybe worse. In the US, you’ll probably live in a trailer with plumbing, a color TV, and a stocked pantry, all thanks to our government’s assistance programs. There’s just an entirely different level of motivation here, so it’s no wonder that they take school more seriously. I’m not saying that you can’t be really poor in the US (you can, I see homeless people quite regularly), but there’s just a much smaller likelihood that you’ll be poor in the same way they think of poor. We’re just not worried about life in the US. Our worst case scenario just isn’t that bad, really.

They also are being raised, nine months out of the year, in a solid Christian environment where they also have to take care of themselves. They wash their own clothes, help cook their own meals, and clean the school. They have responsibilities. Even when they are home, I imagine that there’s plenty of work to be done. Children here just have to be more responsible. This is why you see small kids walking along the side of the road by themselves. If you’re a Masai boy, you’re probably alone and solely responsible for a whole herd of cattle’s (not to mention your own) care and safety for days at a time by the age of thirteen or fourteen.

There’s no doubt that they are better than I was at their age.

After leaving the Form One class, we took a quick tour of the school. The kids are very involved in their cooking and cleaning. They live in dorm style housing. There apparently aren’t glass windows at the school (except a few at the main office), just bars. At first I thought this was odd, but when I got to thinking about it, it made some sense.

You see, at first, I thought that it would be kind of rough. Concrete buildings, open air to the outside, you’re away from your family, and you have chores anyway. But really, I think it’s probably not as bad as that impression. Sure, there’re no windows in the classrooms, but really, it never gets below sixty degrees, even in the winter. Everything is covered so rain isn’t really blowing in on you, and they’ve never seen snow. You get fed decent food every day. You’ve got clothes. The people there love you and care for you. Honestly, it’s probably much better than what you’d be facing at home.

We then drove back into town to the Mission House (and almost had several head on collisions because the driver was passing someone while another car was approaching, yes, three wide on a two lane road) for supper.

P.S. Be careful where you step. Geckos ahoy!

Africa…

Here’s a placeholder… I plan on really telling some of the detail of what happened on this trip in future posts. So, this is just to show that I’m not dead yet.

Warning, it’s a big pic if you click it.