I realize that it’s been awhile since I’ve written a post for my blog, so sorry for the silence! It’s not deliberate by any stretch of the imagination, but things get really busy and I put off non-work related things for when I ‘have time’ or for when I’m ‘not tired’. Before I know it then, it’s been over 2 weeks since I last wrote something. So, here it goes…
The last few weeks have been busy. We’ve had distributions in Nzuguni, Chinangali B, Mchito, Makanda, Mnase and Hombolo Bwawani over the past 3 weekends. These all went quite well. We were warmly welcomed in each parish and I enjoyed meeting more Carpenter’s Kids and seeing parishes that I hadn’t been to yet.
Nzuguni and Chinangali B are very close to Dodoma and we were able to travel on the paved Dodoma-Dar es Salaam road almost the entire way to both parishes which was a great treat. Most of the time we are on unpaved dirt roads that make me feel like I’m at an amusement park playing bumper cars. I’ve hit my head on the roof more times than I can count when we go over bumps. We always take our older Land Cruiser when we do more than one distribution on the same day and though it’s a sturdy vehicle for the most part, it isn’t the most comfortable as those of you who’ve visited us will undoubtedly remember. There are two seats in the front (the driver and the front passenger) and the back consists of two benches that can sit 5 people each, though I’m sure we could probably cram more people into the back if we had to. Needless to say, leg room is not exactly plentiful and Sarah and I have quickly learned not to sit across from each other as we both have long legs. We often put boxes of school supplies and bags of uniforms inside the Cruiser as well, with the shoes on the top, so it’s a bit cramped. We’re always relieved when we head back to Dodoma in an empty Cruiser and can stretch out a bit.
Our November 15th visit to the parishes of Mchito and Makanda was more of an adventure than we’ve had in awhile. For one thing, it was one of the longest days we’ve had in quite some time. We left at 8:30am and got home at 6:30pm. Most of the day was actually spent in the Land Cruiser, I think. At least, that’s how it felt! The trip to Makanda, our first stop of the day was 2.5 hours. We did have to make a stop at a parish to drop something off, so while we technically had a short respite after an hour of driving I don’t really think it counts as the car stopped for literally about a minute and then we were off again. Pastor Noah had warned us that it was going to be a long trip, so I brought a book with me thinking that it would be a good way to pass the time, right? Wrong! I discovered, to my great disgust, that I could only read for about 5 minutes before I started to feel nauseous. Not a good way to feel when you’ve got another hour plus to drive, let me assure you. Usually, I can read in almost any environment, but apparently not while sitting sideways in the back of a Land Cruiser going along a bumpy dirt road. So, I put my book down and looked out the window.
We finally arrived in Makanda and distributed the uniforms, shoes and school supplies to the kids. We were then invited to have lunch at the priest’s house. Lunch wasn’t actually ready, so while we were waiting, Pastor Noah talked to the priest and the chair of the Carpenter’s Kids committee about how the program was going. Sarah, Willy, John Joseph and I entertained ourselves outside by watching the women make ugali, chasing chickens, attempting to have conversations in a mixture of Swahili, English and gestures and throwing seed pods at each other. I think you had to be there. Lunch was finally served and I had my first taste of ugali. It kind of looks like homemade playdoh and is much easier to eat with your hands than rice, a fact for which I was extremely grateful as there were no forks to be seen. Willy and John Joseph enjoyed that immensely.
We took our leave of the priest in Makanda and headed back in the general direction of Dodoma to Mchito. It took about an hour and a half to get there from Makanda and when we arrived there was a church full of people waiting. Apparently, they’d thought we were coming in the morning so some people had been waiting since 9:00am. We also found out that some people had walked 10 kilometers to get there! Needless to say, we felt bad that we’d kept them waiting as it was closer to 2pm than 9am when we arrived…The distribution itself went very well. Mchito is new to the Carpenter’s Kids program, so it took a bit longer because there is a time for people to ask questions about the program as a whole and a demonstration on how to use a mosquito net properly. It was here that I caught a new word Willy had been using to describe Sarah and me when we speak Swahili.
You need a little background for this to make sense. While Swahili is the main language we attempt to speak, there is also a local dialect called Chigogo. Sarah and my Chigogo vocabulary is quite limited. We know a greeting (Mbukwenyi) and the response to that greeting (Mbukwa) and we know how to say cat (nyau). That’s about it. Really, limited is not even the right word. Nonexistent is actually a better adjective. Anyway, in the villages we hear a fair amount of Chigogo whereas in Dodoma, we hear mostly Swahili. The word mzungu or ‘white person,’ is arguably the Swahili word we hear the most as we’re walking around town. As you may remember from earlier posts about the distribution process, when we give the children their shoes, we have to call out their names one by one. Sometimes this is easy and sometimes it’s not at all and a native Swahili speaker has to help us pronounce the name or repeat it after we’ve said it so the child in question actually knows that his or her name has been called. So in his remarks before we start passing out the shoes, Willy tells the kids to listen carefully because we say their names in a new Swahili dialect: Chizungu.
Well, after we’d read off the kids’ names in Chizungu and taken our group photos, we were invited to the priest’s house for dinner. This was literally about 3 hours after we’d been given a big lunch in Makanda. We aren’t always given food when we go out to villages. In fact, we tell people that they don’t need to give us food or gifts when we visit, but we are generally given food in most places. So, despite the fact that we were all still full from lunch at Makanda, we ate rice and beans with the priest and committee in Mchito as well. An interesting fact about Mchito: the parish priest is a woman. Now, for most people who read my blog this is something you’re undoubtedly used to, female priests/pastors. Here in DCT, however, there are only about 15 female priests and the priest at Mchito is actually only the fourth female priest I’ve met here. Mchito is also one of the small number of parishes in The Carpenter’s Kids program that does not have a link parish yet, so if anyone reading this would like to have a link parish in DCT, let me know!
We left Mchito between 4:30 and 5:00pm. At that point, I think I’d lost track of time. We made it almost all the way back to Dodoma without incident until we reached Msalato, which is about 6 miles from Dodoma (10 kilometers for those of you who prefer to measure distances that way). As we were going down the road, we saw a large group of people on one side. Pastor Noah told John Joseph to pull over and Willy opened the back door of the Cruiser. Almost immediately, a man came running up to the vehicle speaking very rapid Swahili and then he ran back to the crowd. He returned seconds later carrying a young woman who was obviously in a great deal of pain and proceeded to put her in the back of the Cruiser with Willy’s help. All CK staff in the vehicle squished together so the young woman could be laid on the bench without too much trouble. We were about to close the door and pull away when a crying woman came running up to the car. She turned out to be the girl’s mother, so we helped her into the car as well as the man who’d carried the girl and then we set off for Dodoma.
It turns out that the young woman had been hit by a car and the family had been trying to figure out a way to get her to the hospital. They’d apparently been about to load her into the back of a pick-up before we drove by. While the Cruiser is not that comfortable, especially on the bumpy road from Msalato to Dodoma, it was undoubtedly better than riding in the back of a pick-up. John Joseph did his best to drive slowly and carefully, but even small bumps were painful for the girl. It didn’t help that her mother kept trying to move her leg, which was the obvious source of her pain. We finally arrived at Dodoma General Hospital and Willy helped move the girl from our car to a stretcher. Her mother thanked us all a great deal in both English and Swahili. As we pulled away from the hospital, I was struck again by how grateful I am to work with the people I do. Willy and Pastor Noah each held the young woman’s hands as we were driving and tried to comfort her mother. There was no hesitation at all in their offer to help. I don’t think they even had to think about it. I’m sure that even if our vehicle had been full, we would have found a way to help even if it meant that some of us had to get out and wait for them to come back.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
American Elections, Tanzanian Style
I would imagine that the results of the US elections, particularly the presidential elections, are on everyone’s minds now. We have been following the run up to the election with great interest here and though there are times I wish I had a television and could watch some of the coverage on that medium, I am quite happy to have missed all those political ads! I have been asked who I was planning to vote for more times than I can count and had a priest offer to have his congregation pray for a victory by my preferred candidate. I’ll leave you all to guess who that was… I voted by absentee ballot this election and it was quite a process to get it back. I received it in the mail (thanks Mom!), filled it out and then faxed it back to the US. Now, those of you who have tried to fax something from Dodoma will appreciate the ordeal that trying to return a ballot that way would be.
First we had to photocopy the ballot because it was too long to fit into the fax machine-I’m not entirely convinced of this, but I wanted to send the fax so I didn’t argue. So, in addition to a letter waiving my right to a secret ballot and a copy of the voter’s oath from the outside of the return envelope, I had 4 pages of ballot. The manager of the stationary store in MacKay House actually took over the task of helping me get everything together once he realized that I was voting for the next president. Of course he had to look at the ballot and ask a few questions, but what can you do? The first time he tried to fax everything it didn’t work. Neither did the second time. Finally, the third time the first 2 pages of my packet went through. Then we had to redial and the final 4 pages went through. Hopefully they all came out together on the other side and are safely in the hands of the election people in King County. The actual ballot is on its way back to the US via EMS so it should arrive well before the results of the election are certified later this month.
This morning, Magi, Sarah and I headed to the New Dodoma Hotel to attend a get-together hosted by the US Embassy. The Embassy set up 7 get-togethers around Tanzania (Dar, Dodoma, Arusha, etc) for American citizens to attend and watch the election coverage/results on CNN. In the 5 minutes it took for Magi and me to pick up Sarah and get down to the hotel, Barack Obama had gone from being the presumed president-elect (Magi and I had both already been online early this morning checking the results) to the actual president-elect and the first words we heard from one of the US Embassy’s Tanzanian staff members were ‘Congratulations on your new president!”
Interestingly enough, Americans were actually in the minority at this event. Other than two or three embassy staff members, there were only about five Americans other than Magi, Sarah and myself in attendance. The vast majority of people who were there were actually members of the Tanzanian parliament. Apparently it’s in session. Who knew? Obviously not me… So, that was quite an experience to watch US election coverage about our first African-American president, the son of a Kenyan citizen, with about 20 or so members of Tanzania’s parliament. We met several MPs and they were all very excited to be at the hotel with us this morning and about the outcome of the election.
The most interesting moment was actually watching Barack Obama’s speech. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but what I found the most interesting was watching and listening to the reaction from the Tanzanian MPs. They clapped more than the Americans in the room did! The line ‘It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled – Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America’ drew some of the loudest applause of the morning. It would have been great to be in the US during this election, but I am incredibly grateful that I could be here in Tanzania and see first hand the reactions of people for whom the election of Barack Obama is also an historic event. As someone recently told me, ‘Obama is one of our own, too.’ The name Baraka, a fairly common one amongst our Carpenter’s Kids, means blessing in Swahili. Just something to think about…
First we had to photocopy the ballot because it was too long to fit into the fax machine-I’m not entirely convinced of this, but I wanted to send the fax so I didn’t argue. So, in addition to a letter waiving my right to a secret ballot and a copy of the voter’s oath from the outside of the return envelope, I had 4 pages of ballot. The manager of the stationary store in MacKay House actually took over the task of helping me get everything together once he realized that I was voting for the next president. Of course he had to look at the ballot and ask a few questions, but what can you do? The first time he tried to fax everything it didn’t work. Neither did the second time. Finally, the third time the first 2 pages of my packet went through. Then we had to redial and the final 4 pages went through. Hopefully they all came out together on the other side and are safely in the hands of the election people in King County. The actual ballot is on its way back to the US via EMS so it should arrive well before the results of the election are certified later this month.
This morning, Magi, Sarah and I headed to the New Dodoma Hotel to attend a get-together hosted by the US Embassy. The Embassy set up 7 get-togethers around Tanzania (Dar, Dodoma, Arusha, etc) for American citizens to attend and watch the election coverage/results on CNN. In the 5 minutes it took for Magi and me to pick up Sarah and get down to the hotel, Barack Obama had gone from being the presumed president-elect (Magi and I had both already been online early this morning checking the results) to the actual president-elect and the first words we heard from one of the US Embassy’s Tanzanian staff members were ‘Congratulations on your new president!”
Interestingly enough, Americans were actually in the minority at this event. Other than two or three embassy staff members, there were only about five Americans other than Magi, Sarah and myself in attendance. The vast majority of people who were there were actually members of the Tanzanian parliament. Apparently it’s in session. Who knew? Obviously not me… So, that was quite an experience to watch US election coverage about our first African-American president, the son of a Kenyan citizen, with about 20 or so members of Tanzania’s parliament. We met several MPs and they were all very excited to be at the hotel with us this morning and about the outcome of the election.
The most interesting moment was actually watching Barack Obama’s speech. I thoroughly enjoyed it, but what I found the most interesting was watching and listening to the reaction from the Tanzanian MPs. They clapped more than the Americans in the room did! The line ‘It’s the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Latino, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled – Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been a collection of Red States and Blue States: we are, and always will be, the United States of America’ drew some of the loudest applause of the morning. It would have been great to be in the US during this election, but I am incredibly grateful that I could be here in Tanzania and see first hand the reactions of people for whom the election of Barack Obama is also an historic event. As someone recently told me, ‘Obama is one of our own, too.’ The name Baraka, a fairly common one amongst our Carpenter’s Kids, means blessing in Swahili. Just something to think about…
A Return to Hombolo Mleche
On Sunday October 26th, I made my second visit to the parish of Hombolo Mleche, or Mleche for short. This parish will always be special for me because it’s the first place where I was actually called by my name and though I have definitely been more than warmly welcomed at every DCT parish I’ve been to, the experience of being called by my own name has stayed with me. I’d seen Father Dan, the parish priest, several times since my first visit and I was looking forward to actually attending a service at his church. To be honest, I was really most looking forward to seeing the little girl I met in September who smiled at me the whole time I was there and made a special point of coming over to say goodbye to me before I left.
We don’t usually make trips outside of Dodoma to attend church services, so I was excited to go to Mleche to see something different. I was also excited to see the welcome that Buck Blanchard, from the Diocese of Virginia, would receive. Buck is part of our Friends in Colorado group that sponsors 201 Carpenter’s Kids in Mleche. This summer he and his friends in the group brought their families to visit and work on the new church building. Needless to say, he was greeted like a national hero! It was great. We arrived in the parish and were greeted by a huge crowd of Carpenter’s Kids, their guardians, Father Dan and so many other people. It was quite amazing. I was delighted because the same little girl that I was going to make a point of trying to find came right over to me as soon as I got out of the car and said hello. She took my hand and we walked to the church together, stopping so I could say hi to some of the other kids including the girls who had called my name and then tried to hide behind chairs the last time I was in Mleche. There were so many guardians who came up to me and said ‘Karibu tena, Eliza’ (Welcome again, Eliza) that it actually kind of felt like coming home in a way.
We finally made it to the church, and signed the ever present visitor’s book. David May, the rector of Grace Church in Kilmarnock, VA, and Buck were participating in the service so they got to sit up at the altar. The rest of us also sat at the front of the church, but off to the side. There were so many people who wanted to come into the church that the kids, who had initially been sitting in chairs, had to move to the floor and steps in front of the altar so there was room for everyone. There were about 800-850 people in the church and more outside watching through the windows. My little friend came over and sat on the floor right in front of me. At one point we all stood up to sing a hymn and she moved closer to me and took my hand. When we sat back down, she climbed onto my lap and stayed there for the rest of the service.
The actual service was great. David gave an excellent sermon which was translated into Swahili by Pastor Noah-Pastor Noah told me later that he really enjoyed the sermon and found it to be very powerful. Buck read several parts of the morning prayer service in Swahili and Emily (David’s wife) and Floyd and Sandy (parishioners at Grace Church) got to do all of the readings for the day in Swahili! Better them than me! At the end of the service, the group distributed sweaters, soap and petroleum jelly to all of the Carpenter’s Kids. They’d also purchased enough soap to give everyone else at the church soap as well. It was a sort of controlled chaos, but it was wonderful. I should clarify here and explain that while it is incredibly hot during the day here, the nights can be pretty cool-especially when you are sleeping on the dirt floor of a mud hut. The sweaters will definitely be put to good use! After we’d distributed sweaters, soap and petroleum jelly to everyone. We took a group picture of all the kids. Let me tell you, the 201 kids were an amazing sight to behold. Huge smiles all around.
Just before we were going to have lunch, one of the older girls in the program came up to me and handed me a small black plastic bag. Inside was a dried gourd with a design stamped into it. Thanks to Willy’s translation skills, I learned that she had stamped the design on the gourd herself and that she’d gone home right after the group photo had been taken to get the gourd because she wanted me to have it. She was so shy that she wouldn’t even look me in the eye when I shook her hand and said thank you, but afterwards she gave me a big smile and said ‘Karibu tena’ (welcome again).
Generally, when a group comes to visit we arrange for them to have lunch with the parish priest, committee, teachers and the Carpenter’s Kids. In this instance, Buck requested that we do family lunches, which is what he and his friends had done when they were here earlier this year. Instead of having a big group lunch, we broke up into smaller groups and had lunch in the homes of some of the Carpenter’s Kids. Buck, John (our Assistant Director) and I went with a parish committee member to the home of one of the older Carpenter’s Kids in the parish and had lunch with her, her mother and father and three younger siblings. Their home is typical of other homes in the village. It has reinforced mud walls and no furniture to speak of, with the exception of the 3 stools that Buck, John and I were given to sit on. The family sat on cloth bags that were laid out on the dirt floor. The mother of the house initially laid out a large plate of ugali and a bowl of sauce for us, but the parish committee member waived it away and proceeded to unpack an enormous lunch of rice, beef, chicken and vegetables, along with banana and orange wedges for dessert. We were also given a bottle of water and a soda to drink. The parish committee had obviously planned the meal well in advance. Part of me felt bad that the family’s contribution of ugali had been waived away, but I was happy that they were given generous shares of the food prepared for us and would have the ugali for later as well.
Through John’s able interpretation, we were able to ask lots of questions and engage in a real conversation with the family. We were so welcomed and just made to feel at home. I really don’t think that I can actually do the day justice. No matter how long I stay here in Tanzania, this is one of the experiences that will stay with me. We go to parishes almost every week and we meet the children that the program serves and we meet their guardians and it’s wonderful. But having the opportunity to spend time with a family in their home is an experience that defies description. We were invited into relationship with this family and offered a place at their table. This experience, along with simply being here in Tanzania, really gives a whole new meaning to the question posed in the Parable of the Good Samaritan, “Who is my neighbor?”
Despite the great joy of the day in Mleche, there is one thing that I wasn’t able to do. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to my friend-the same one who made a point of saying goodbye to me at the end of my first visit! I tried to find her in the great crowd of people outside the church before we were taken to lunch, but I couldn’t. Before we left for the day, I showed her picture to one of the parish committee members and asked her to tell the little girl goodbye for me. I don’t know if she will or if she’ll say goodbye to the right child, but in the end, I guess that’s ok. I’ll get a chance to go back to Mleche and see her and all the kids there again.
We don’t usually make trips outside of Dodoma to attend church services, so I was excited to go to Mleche to see something different. I was also excited to see the welcome that Buck Blanchard, from the Diocese of Virginia, would receive. Buck is part of our Friends in Colorado group that sponsors 201 Carpenter’s Kids in Mleche. This summer he and his friends in the group brought their families to visit and work on the new church building. Needless to say, he was greeted like a national hero! It was great. We arrived in the parish and were greeted by a huge crowd of Carpenter’s Kids, their guardians, Father Dan and so many other people. It was quite amazing. I was delighted because the same little girl that I was going to make a point of trying to find came right over to me as soon as I got out of the car and said hello. She took my hand and we walked to the church together, stopping so I could say hi to some of the other kids including the girls who had called my name and then tried to hide behind chairs the last time I was in Mleche. There were so many guardians who came up to me and said ‘Karibu tena, Eliza’ (Welcome again, Eliza) that it actually kind of felt like coming home in a way.
We finally made it to the church, and signed the ever present visitor’s book. David May, the rector of Grace Church in Kilmarnock, VA, and Buck were participating in the service so they got to sit up at the altar. The rest of us also sat at the front of the church, but off to the side. There were so many people who wanted to come into the church that the kids, who had initially been sitting in chairs, had to move to the floor and steps in front of the altar so there was room for everyone. There were about 800-850 people in the church and more outside watching through the windows. My little friend came over and sat on the floor right in front of me. At one point we all stood up to sing a hymn and she moved closer to me and took my hand. When we sat back down, she climbed onto my lap and stayed there for the rest of the service.
The actual service was great. David gave an excellent sermon which was translated into Swahili by Pastor Noah-Pastor Noah told me later that he really enjoyed the sermon and found it to be very powerful. Buck read several parts of the morning prayer service in Swahili and Emily (David’s wife) and Floyd and Sandy (parishioners at Grace Church) got to do all of the readings for the day in Swahili! Better them than me! At the end of the service, the group distributed sweaters, soap and petroleum jelly to all of the Carpenter’s Kids. They’d also purchased enough soap to give everyone else at the church soap as well. It was a sort of controlled chaos, but it was wonderful. I should clarify here and explain that while it is incredibly hot during the day here, the nights can be pretty cool-especially when you are sleeping on the dirt floor of a mud hut. The sweaters will definitely be put to good use! After we’d distributed sweaters, soap and petroleum jelly to everyone. We took a group picture of all the kids. Let me tell you, the 201 kids were an amazing sight to behold. Huge smiles all around.
Just before we were going to have lunch, one of the older girls in the program came up to me and handed me a small black plastic bag. Inside was a dried gourd with a design stamped into it. Thanks to Willy’s translation skills, I learned that she had stamped the design on the gourd herself and that she’d gone home right after the group photo had been taken to get the gourd because she wanted me to have it. She was so shy that she wouldn’t even look me in the eye when I shook her hand and said thank you, but afterwards she gave me a big smile and said ‘Karibu tena’ (welcome again).
Generally, when a group comes to visit we arrange for them to have lunch with the parish priest, committee, teachers and the Carpenter’s Kids. In this instance, Buck requested that we do family lunches, which is what he and his friends had done when they were here earlier this year. Instead of having a big group lunch, we broke up into smaller groups and had lunch in the homes of some of the Carpenter’s Kids. Buck, John (our Assistant Director) and I went with a parish committee member to the home of one of the older Carpenter’s Kids in the parish and had lunch with her, her mother and father and three younger siblings. Their home is typical of other homes in the village. It has reinforced mud walls and no furniture to speak of, with the exception of the 3 stools that Buck, John and I were given to sit on. The family sat on cloth bags that were laid out on the dirt floor. The mother of the house initially laid out a large plate of ugali and a bowl of sauce for us, but the parish committee member waived it away and proceeded to unpack an enormous lunch of rice, beef, chicken and vegetables, along with banana and orange wedges for dessert. We were also given a bottle of water and a soda to drink. The parish committee had obviously planned the meal well in advance. Part of me felt bad that the family’s contribution of ugali had been waived away, but I was happy that they were given generous shares of the food prepared for us and would have the ugali for later as well.
Through John’s able interpretation, we were able to ask lots of questions and engage in a real conversation with the family. We were so welcomed and just made to feel at home. I really don’t think that I can actually do the day justice. No matter how long I stay here in Tanzania, this is one of the experiences that will stay with me. We go to parishes almost every week and we meet the children that the program serves and we meet their guardians and it’s wonderful. But having the opportunity to spend time with a family in their home is an experience that defies description. We were invited into relationship with this family and offered a place at their table. This experience, along with simply being here in Tanzania, really gives a whole new meaning to the question posed in the Parable of the Good Samaritan, “Who is my neighbor?”
Despite the great joy of the day in Mleche, there is one thing that I wasn’t able to do. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to my friend-the same one who made a point of saying goodbye to me at the end of my first visit! I tried to find her in the great crowd of people outside the church before we were taken to lunch, but I couldn’t. Before we left for the day, I showed her picture to one of the parish committee members and asked her to tell the little girl goodbye for me. I don’t know if she will or if she’ll say goodbye to the right child, but in the end, I guess that’s ok. I’ll get a chance to go back to Mleche and see her and all the kids there again.
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