December 23rd, our first full day in Zanzibar, started very early. 4:51am to be exact. We didn’t mean to wake up that early, but it was hard not to wake up when the call to prayer from the nearest mosque began. It literally sounded as though the man calling everyone to pray was standing in our room. He wasn’t, of course, but it sounded like it. Sarah and I looked at each other, waited for the call to prayer to be over and went back to sleep for another three hours.
We finally got up and had breakfast at our hotel’s rooftop restaurant before setting off to explore Stone Town for the day. We spent most of the day shopping. I won’t go into too much detail about that because this post would be ridiculously long if I did. Let’s just say that the stores in Stone Town are definitely designed to appeal to tourists. They are huge and have lots of stuff in them. We’d gotten used to shopping in Dodoma and found the stores in Stone Town with all of their choices to be a bit overwhelming. There were even stores that accepted credit cards. You can’t pay for anything with a credit card in Dodoma. I’m serious, there is not one place that accepts cards. We found at least 5 places on the same street in Stone Town.
Another thing that stood out was the sheer number of tourists. It was a bit mindboggling. We’ve gotten used to being the only non-Tanzanians when we walk down the streets or walk into a store. Not in Stone Town. There you could go to a restaurant or a shop and the only Tanzanians would be the ones who worked there. It was pretty odd.
We had lunch at a great place called the Stone Town Café. We liked it so much that we had lunch there every day we were in Stone Town and even stopped by on our way back to Dar es Salaam on December 29th. After lunch, we decided to go to the Anglican Cathedral to find out when the English Christmas service would be and to take a tour of the Cathedral and the grounds.
The Anglican Cathedral in Stone Town is built on the site of an old slave market. When the market was still running, there were 17 slave caves where thousands of men, women and children were imprisoned as they waited to be sold to slave ship captains who would take them to various places around the world. Only two of the 17 original rooms are still in existence today. The others have been destroyed. It was a bit jarring to go on the tour, as you might expect. We bought our tickets and followed our guide into a building that is now part of the hostel that the Cathedral runs. We went down some stairs and turned a corner and found ourselves in a room where 75 women and children were kept as they waited to be put up for sale. The room was not big at all. It was dark and musty, despite the three small windows, two of which were added after the market was no longer operational. The room had a raised platform about three and a half feet tall that went around the perimeter of the room leaving a small area in the middle. As we sat on the edge of the platform, our guide explained that we were sitting on the same place that the women and children who were kept in the room sat and slept. Our feet were hanging in the part of the room that served as the toilet.
After he’d given us some background information on the slave trade and we’d looked in a room across the hall where 50 men were kept while they waited to be sold to slavers, we went back outside to look at a memorial. The memorial consisted of five statues of people with chains around their necks. The chain and collars used in the memorial were actually used on people who’d been imprisoned in the caves on the Cathedral grounds. Our final stop on the tour was the Cathedral itself. It’s an impressive building in its own right, but its history and what’s been done to commemorate that history is quite moving. Our guide gave us a short history of the Cathedral and of the religious make up of Zanzibar. The island is 96% Muslim and 4% Christian. There are 15 mosques in Stone Town and 2 churches, one Anglican and the other Catholic.
The history of the Cathedral grounds permeates the interior of the Cathedral as well. There’s a cross in the Cathedral that was carved out of the tree under which Livingstone’s heart was buried in Zambia. Given Livingstone’s abhorrence of slavery, that seems entirely appropriate. What was the most striking and moving for me though was actually a small circle of white marble in the floor directly in front of the altar. The circle marks the spot where a tree that was used as a whipping post used to stand. Slaves were tied to the tree and whipped to see how strong they were. If a slave could be whipped and get up on their own, their price went up. If they were not able to get up, their price went down. The white marble circle is surrounded by red marble to symbolize the blood of the slaves. Imagine having that history present with you every time you went to church.
After we finished our tour, we made our way back to our hotel to wait for our friends to arrive. Maaike and Lianne, who both teach at the Dodoma Deaf School, Leane and Jo, who both teach at CAMS, and Josiah (Leane’s son) and Gwen (Jo’s daughter), who were both visiting for the holidays, arrived at about 6:45 and checked into their rooms at the Garden Lodge. After they’d had a chance to shower and rest a bit, we headed off to Livingstone’s, a beachside restaurant, for dinner. After dinner, Leane took us to an alley where there are about 20 tables of seafood shish kabobs set up. You can order any of them and they’ll be cooked for you on a little charcoal grill. We’d just eaten, so all we did was look, much to the disappointment of all the vendors. It was quite late when we were finished looking, so we caught a taxi back to our hotel.
On the 24th, Leane, Jo, Josiah and Gwen headed off to Paje (a beach on the eastern coast of Zanzibar) and Sarah, Maaike, Lianne and I stayed in Stone Town to explore. We took a small boat out to Prison Island to see the old prison and the enormous population of tortoises. I should say here that I had a bit of trouble getting out of the boat when we arrived at the island. The boats pull up to the shore, but not so that they’re on the ground. You still have to wade through a bit of water to get to the sand which means that the boats go up and down with the tide. There are obviously times when multitasking is not something I do well and trying to climb out of a boat that is going up and down in the waves while trying to hold up my skirt so it doesn’t get wet was definitely one of those times. The left side of my skirt and my t-shirt got a bit of a soaking much to the amusement of Sarah, Maaike and Lianne-I think Sarah enjoyed it the most. Actually, I know that Sarah enjoyed it the most!
The prison itself was rather unremarkable. The tortoises were another story, though. After we bought our tickets, we were each given a handful of some kind of vegetation to feed to the tortoises. They were only too happy to come right over and eat everything we gave them. We walked around the enclosure alternately feeding and watching the tortoises – and taking lots of pictures of course! Sarah’s green skirt was very popular with the tortoises. Several of them tried to bite it because it was about the same color as the vegetation we were feeding them. None of them had any luck, although one came close. After we’d looked at the tortoises, we went down to the beach to wait for our boat to come back.
I didn’t have any trouble getting on the boat, but getting off once we were back in Stone Town was another story. This time it wasn’t my fault though! Our boat driver, captain I guess, had obviously seen that I had some trouble getting out of the boat the last time. So, he decided that he was going to help me. I was actually doing pretty well climbing down the short ladder despite feeling very unsteady due to the waves when he tried to help me off the ladder. This caused me to slip and drop the hem of my skirt into the water and get wet again - much to Sarah’s entertainment. We walked back to our hotel so I could shower and change and so Maaike, who’d gone swimming by choice at Prison Island, could do the same. Then we went to lunch at our favorite café and spent the rest of the day wandering around the shops to Maaike and Lianne could see them. We decided to have dinner at the same restaurant that we’d gone to the night before. This time we didn’t have a reservation, but the waiter we’d had the night before actually bumped some people from a table for us. As we sat on the beach listening to the waves, none of us could really believe that it was actually Christmas Eve.
Christmas Day began the same way that our other two morning in Stone Town did-with the call to prayer from the local mosque. We got up, though not at 5:00am, and went to the English service at the Cathedral. We thought that we’d get to sit in the main sanctuary for the service, but that was not to be. We were stuffed into a side chapel instead. The chapel filled up quickly and our pew which comfortably sat five ended up with seven people on it for most of the service. We used the Church of England liturgy and sang familiar Christmas hymns, but it just wasn’t the same as being home.
After the service we had some time before our taxi was supposed to come, so we stopped at an ATM to get cash for our stay in Bwejuu (no ATMs there) and stopped at the Stone Town Café to get something to drink-did I mention that we liked that place? We went back to the hotel, picked up our bags and set off for our hotel in Bwejuu on the eastern coast of the island. On the way, we stopped in the Jozani forest to look at the Red Colobus Monkeys. It was pretty amazing. They are not shy at all and we were able to get really close to them. The only challenges proved to be not stepping in monkey poo and not getting peed on. I’m happy to say that I was able to avoid both of those things!
You’ll have to wait to hear about the Bwejuu stay and the Dar es Salaam adventure another time!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Off to Zanzibar…
Despite the fact that I was looking forward to going on vacation, I have to say that I wasn’t really looking forward to the beginning of it. Why you ask, well in order to get to Zanzibar I had to spend 7 hours on a bus and another 2 plus hours on a ferry boat. All in the same day. Not really all that fun.
Sarah and I left Dodoma on 22 December on the 7:00am bus to Dar es Salaam. We chose to leave that early for two main reasons: 1) it wouldn’t be as hot if we left early in the day and 2) we wanted to make the last ferry to Zanzibar. The bus ride itself was rather uneventful. We both read for most of it. The only really noteworthy thing was our stop in Morogoro, the unofficial halfway point between Dodoma and Dar es Salaam. The last time I made the bus trip, there were a lot of women on the bus and so the line for the bathroom was long. This time, there were significantly more men on the bus and so the wait for the restroom was minimal and we were soon back on the bus again. Once we left Morogoro, it started to get warm. By the time we reached Dar es Salaam and hit the inevitable traffic jam, Sarah and I were both sweating a lot, but the adventure was just beginning.
We had sent a text message to Frank, the taxi driver who picked us up in August when we arrived from the US, to see if he could meet us at the bus station. He didn’t respond, so I sent another text. Still nothing. I finally called him and it turned out that he was not going to be able to meet us. However, he sent his younger brother Allan to pick us up. So far, so good. We needed to make a stop at Luther House Hostel, which is near the ferry terminal, to see if we could book some rooms for our return trip to Dar at the end of December. As we were making our way to the hostel, Allan told us that he had a friend who worked for the Zanzibar ferries office and said that it would be good to have him meet us at Luther House and then go with us to get our tickets. Never having purchased ferry tickets we agreed, even though we thought it seemed a bit sketchy.
We made it to Luther House, but they didn’t have enough room for us. As we waited for Allan’s friend to arrive so we could go to the ferry terminal, we learned that Allan had to be somewhere else so he’d called a friend of his to take us to the ferry. Our new driver and the ferry guy arrived at about the same time and we transferred our bags from one car to the other and headed off to the terminal. Once we were there, we got to wait in the hot sun while a guy who worked with Allan’s friend took our money and the photocopies of our residence permits to go get our tickets. We ended up paying for first class tickets, which came out to 60,000TSH for the round trip. They kept trying to tell us that we’d gotten some sort of a deal, but by that point we didn’t really care. We just wanted to get on the ferry. We were told that our tickets were for the 3:30 ferry and so we had to hurry to get in line. An old man took our bags and off we went. I should admit at this point that neither Sarah nor I are light packers, so it was actually quite impressive that the man was able to carry both of our bags with no trouble. It was actually a bit difficult for us to keep up with him.
We made it to the line with no problem. The old man pushed his way to the front and left our bags at the front of the line. We were stuck about halfway back. We waited for the passengers to get off of the ferry which had just arrived from Zanzibar and was definitely not leaving at 3:30. I think we started boarding at 3:30, but the boat didn’t leave port until at least 4:00. When we were finally reunited with our bags, the old man showed up again and took them down to the boat for us. The bags sat on the main deck of the boat and we were directed up to the first class cabin, which was just up a short flight of stairs. Sarah and I gratefully sank into some relatively comfortable chairs and enjoyed the air conditioning. The ride itself was a bit bumpy, but otherwise just fine. They did hand out sick bags just in case anyone needed them. We spent most of the trip watching the movie ‘The Fugitive’ and wondering why they chose that particular movie to show.
After about two and a half hours, we arrived in Zanzibar. A porter grabbed our bags and we went up to the customs window. There was already a long line to go through the port, but when a customs official would have directed us to the end of that line we pulled out our residence permits and were able to bypass the line completely. We found a taxi driver and set off to our Stone Town hotel, the Garden Lodge. We checked in and got up to our room at 6:40pm-12 hours and 25 minutes after we’d left our apartments that morning.
We went to dinner at a restaurant called Spices Rendezvous which was about 2 blocks from our hotel. The name sounds French, but the food was not. It was an Indian restaurant that had been previously called Maharaja, though why it was renamed is anyone’s guess. After dinner we headed back to our hotel and tried to stay cool for the rest of the evening.
Sarah and I left Dodoma on 22 December on the 7:00am bus to Dar es Salaam. We chose to leave that early for two main reasons: 1) it wouldn’t be as hot if we left early in the day and 2) we wanted to make the last ferry to Zanzibar. The bus ride itself was rather uneventful. We both read for most of it. The only really noteworthy thing was our stop in Morogoro, the unofficial halfway point between Dodoma and Dar es Salaam. The last time I made the bus trip, there were a lot of women on the bus and so the line for the bathroom was long. This time, there were significantly more men on the bus and so the wait for the restroom was minimal and we were soon back on the bus again. Once we left Morogoro, it started to get warm. By the time we reached Dar es Salaam and hit the inevitable traffic jam, Sarah and I were both sweating a lot, but the adventure was just beginning.
We had sent a text message to Frank, the taxi driver who picked us up in August when we arrived from the US, to see if he could meet us at the bus station. He didn’t respond, so I sent another text. Still nothing. I finally called him and it turned out that he was not going to be able to meet us. However, he sent his younger brother Allan to pick us up. So far, so good. We needed to make a stop at Luther House Hostel, which is near the ferry terminal, to see if we could book some rooms for our return trip to Dar at the end of December. As we were making our way to the hostel, Allan told us that he had a friend who worked for the Zanzibar ferries office and said that it would be good to have him meet us at Luther House and then go with us to get our tickets. Never having purchased ferry tickets we agreed, even though we thought it seemed a bit sketchy.
We made it to Luther House, but they didn’t have enough room for us. As we waited for Allan’s friend to arrive so we could go to the ferry terminal, we learned that Allan had to be somewhere else so he’d called a friend of his to take us to the ferry. Our new driver and the ferry guy arrived at about the same time and we transferred our bags from one car to the other and headed off to the terminal. Once we were there, we got to wait in the hot sun while a guy who worked with Allan’s friend took our money and the photocopies of our residence permits to go get our tickets. We ended up paying for first class tickets, which came out to 60,000TSH for the round trip. They kept trying to tell us that we’d gotten some sort of a deal, but by that point we didn’t really care. We just wanted to get on the ferry. We were told that our tickets were for the 3:30 ferry and so we had to hurry to get in line. An old man took our bags and off we went. I should admit at this point that neither Sarah nor I are light packers, so it was actually quite impressive that the man was able to carry both of our bags with no trouble. It was actually a bit difficult for us to keep up with him.
We made it to the line with no problem. The old man pushed his way to the front and left our bags at the front of the line. We were stuck about halfway back. We waited for the passengers to get off of the ferry which had just arrived from Zanzibar and was definitely not leaving at 3:30. I think we started boarding at 3:30, but the boat didn’t leave port until at least 4:00. When we were finally reunited with our bags, the old man showed up again and took them down to the boat for us. The bags sat on the main deck of the boat and we were directed up to the first class cabin, which was just up a short flight of stairs. Sarah and I gratefully sank into some relatively comfortable chairs and enjoyed the air conditioning. The ride itself was a bit bumpy, but otherwise just fine. They did hand out sick bags just in case anyone needed them. We spent most of the trip watching the movie ‘The Fugitive’ and wondering why they chose that particular movie to show.
After about two and a half hours, we arrived in Zanzibar. A porter grabbed our bags and we went up to the customs window. There was already a long line to go through the port, but when a customs official would have directed us to the end of that line we pulled out our residence permits and were able to bypass the line completely. We found a taxi driver and set off to our Stone Town hotel, the Garden Lodge. We checked in and got up to our room at 6:40pm-12 hours and 25 minutes after we’d left our apartments that morning.
We went to dinner at a restaurant called Spices Rendezvous which was about 2 blocks from our hotel. The name sounds French, but the food was not. It was an Indian restaurant that had been previously called Maharaja, though why it was renamed is anyone’s guess. After dinner we headed back to our hotel and tried to stay cool for the rest of the evening.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
So long, farewell...
Sorry, I couldn’t resist the Sound of Music reference. Sorry again if the song is now stuck in your head!
On Sunday, 14 December, Sarah and I went to our friend Andrew Russell’s sending service at his church, Chang’ombe. Andrew is a USPG missionary (www.uspg.org.uk) from England who’s been here in Tanzania for the last three years working for the Anglican Church of Tanzania as the Project Officer for the Tanzania Anglican Youth Organization (TAYO). We actually met Andrew on our very first full day in Dodoma and we’ve been happy to have him as a friend since then.
The morning actually started in a rather entertaining way. Andrew’s church is not the easiest place to find. Andrew had told me that he had to be shown how to get to the church about three times before he was actually able to find it on his own and I can definitely understand why! We arranged to meet Andrew on the side of the road and then follow him to the church building. The last text message I had from Andrew giving me directions to the meeting point ended with the words “look for my bright blue beetle.” It felt vaguely spy-movie-esque. Vaguely. Work with me here.
Callum and Laura agreed to drop Sarah and I off at Andrew’s church before they had to get to the Cathedral to lead the music for the English service. We made it to the meeting place and saw the blue beetle (VW) with no trouble. We could actually see the beetle from quite a distance away. We then proceeded to follow Andrew’s car through more twists and turns than I could have imagined and we were glad that we were following him and not trying to make it to church on our own. We might still be trying to find it. We finally arrived at Chang’ombe just as the service was starting and were ushered over to the church door by an elder of the congregation. Callum and Laura tried to get the Land Cruiser to start again so they could get to church but the vehicle didn’t want to cooperate. We were led into the church before they got the Cruiser started again, so we tried to listen for the motor from where we were sitting, which was, of course, the front of the church. We finally saw Callum and Laura driving away about 10 minutes or so after we arrived. They made it to the Cathedral, but were about 10 minutes late for the service. According to a friend who was at the service, Laura went straight up to the front of the church and led the congregation in the first song! That's dedication.
Meanwhile back at Chang’ombe, we enjoyed a service that felt very much like an Episcopal service back in the US with one obvious difference of course - it was in Swahili. (Ok, two obvious differences, there were multiple dancing choirs at this service as well.) Thankfully, I’d remembered to bring my Swahili prayer book and hymnal with me so I could follow along. I had to listen carefully, but I could actually understand enough Swahili that I could pick up on the readings for the day so I could follow along in my English Bible. Aside from Sarah and me, some of Andrew’s other friends came to the service as well: Josh, an American who works for the Mennonite Church, Andy, from Switzerland (I can’t remember where he works) and Lianne, our friend who works at the Dodoma Deaf School and lives at the same housing compound as Sarah. Bernard, Andrew’s successor at work, was also there. We were happy to see him again as we’d met him during his first week on the job several months ago. He was the official photographer for the day and also helped translate for us.
Andrew was the preacher for the day and spoke in Swahili for a good 20 minutes with no problem. I can only hope that I’ll be able to speak Swahili that well at some point. I manage about a minute and a half now if I speak slowly. I didn’t catch much of what Andrew said which was unfortunate as he used on of my favorite passages as the basis for his remarks (Philippians 4:4-9 in case you’re interested), but I could get a few words and phrases here and there. I was even able to understand one complete sentence at one point. It was an exciting moment! The most entertaining moment of the service came when we had to introduce ourselves. We were all sitting at the front of the church and literally just as Lianne stood up to introduce herself it started pouring outside. The church has an iron roof which is held up by wooden beams. There is no insulation or anything between the roof and the ground other than the beams and air, so, as you can imagine, it was a bit loud. Poor Lianne got all the way through her introduction only to be told that no one could hear her! She tried again with a microphone, but between the static from the microphone, the noise of the rain and her rather quiet voice, no one was able to hear her. The rest of us where just told to shout our introductions. That seemed to work.
After the service was over (it was about 2.5 hours long), we moved to a room in a building next to the church and sat with the priest and his family, Frederik, the former priest of Chang’ombe (who had introduced Andrew to the church) and his family, and some other members of the congregation. Frederik had me move across the room away from Sarah, Lianne, Josh and Andy to sit by Bernard so we could sort of mix things up and not have all of the visitors just sitting together. So, Bernard and I chatted about where he’s from, the Diocese of Mara, his work and living in Dodoma. We also chatted about Barack Obama and the United States. It turns out that Bernard’s home diocese is actually linked with Andrew’s diocese back in the UK. It’s a small world.
During the course of the hour or so we all spent sitting and chatting together, we were asked some questions about Barack Obama by several people. It was an interesting experience, as so far everyone here has been very excited about Obama’s election. That didn’t really seem to be the case here. Basically, several people wanted to know if we thought Obama would do a good job and if we thought we could trust him. The trust question was specifically related to press about Obama and his relationship with Muslims. It was a bit awkward, but our responses seemed to be good enough. We were told, though, that if Obama does a good job we can rejoice, but if he does not, it’s our fault for electing him. So there you go!
After we’d chatted for a bit and everyone drank a bottle of soda, we went back into the church for the second part of the send off. The church had been redecorated and a table set up at the front for Andrew, the two priests and their families to sit at. This second part of the send off was a bit less formal than the church service, though really still quite formal all things considered. There were more speeches and opportunities for people who hadn’t spoken at the service to talk. I should also mention that the send-off was also for Pastor Frederik and his family as he is now working or studying (I can’t remember which) at St. John’s University in Dodoma.
The church women had prepared lunch for everyone-no small feat as there were about 100 people there! One of the women had baked Andrew a heart-shaped cake which was presented to him before lunch and then cut up into small pieces so everyone could have some. After lunch was finished, it was picture time. I have no idea how many pictures were taken, but believe me, it was a lot.
Despite the fact that the day was a bit longer than we’d anticipated (we didn’t get home until almost 4pm), I really enjoyed going to the service. It’s always great to meet new people and visit new churches here in Dodoma. Everyone was very welcoming and told us we should come back. It was also really great to see the relationship that Andrew has built with the congregation at Chang’ombe. Everyone wanted to say goodbye to him with a handshake, a hug or a picture-often all three. He’ll obviously be missed!
While it was great to be a part of Andrew’s send-off, it was also sad. Andrew was one of the first people we met here in Dodoma and will soon be gone. We certainly didn’t see each other every day, but it was nice to run into each other around town and have lunch together occasionally. According to my mother, I haven't liked saying goodbye to people since I was little. Obviously, I haven’t grown out of that.
I’ll have to figure out a way to convince Sarah to stay…
On Sunday, 14 December, Sarah and I went to our friend Andrew Russell’s sending service at his church, Chang’ombe. Andrew is a USPG missionary (www.uspg.org.uk) from England who’s been here in Tanzania for the last three years working for the Anglican Church of Tanzania as the Project Officer for the Tanzania Anglican Youth Organization (TAYO). We actually met Andrew on our very first full day in Dodoma and we’ve been happy to have him as a friend since then.
The morning actually started in a rather entertaining way. Andrew’s church is not the easiest place to find. Andrew had told me that he had to be shown how to get to the church about three times before he was actually able to find it on his own and I can definitely understand why! We arranged to meet Andrew on the side of the road and then follow him to the church building. The last text message I had from Andrew giving me directions to the meeting point ended with the words “look for my bright blue beetle.” It felt vaguely spy-movie-esque. Vaguely. Work with me here.
Callum and Laura agreed to drop Sarah and I off at Andrew’s church before they had to get to the Cathedral to lead the music for the English service. We made it to the meeting place and saw the blue beetle (VW) with no trouble. We could actually see the beetle from quite a distance away. We then proceeded to follow Andrew’s car through more twists and turns than I could have imagined and we were glad that we were following him and not trying to make it to church on our own. We might still be trying to find it. We finally arrived at Chang’ombe just as the service was starting and were ushered over to the church door by an elder of the congregation. Callum and Laura tried to get the Land Cruiser to start again so they could get to church but the vehicle didn’t want to cooperate. We were led into the church before they got the Cruiser started again, so we tried to listen for the motor from where we were sitting, which was, of course, the front of the church. We finally saw Callum and Laura driving away about 10 minutes or so after we arrived. They made it to the Cathedral, but were about 10 minutes late for the service. According to a friend who was at the service, Laura went straight up to the front of the church and led the congregation in the first song! That's dedication.
Meanwhile back at Chang’ombe, we enjoyed a service that felt very much like an Episcopal service back in the US with one obvious difference of course - it was in Swahili. (Ok, two obvious differences, there were multiple dancing choirs at this service as well.) Thankfully, I’d remembered to bring my Swahili prayer book and hymnal with me so I could follow along. I had to listen carefully, but I could actually understand enough Swahili that I could pick up on the readings for the day so I could follow along in my English Bible. Aside from Sarah and me, some of Andrew’s other friends came to the service as well: Josh, an American who works for the Mennonite Church, Andy, from Switzerland (I can’t remember where he works) and Lianne, our friend who works at the Dodoma Deaf School and lives at the same housing compound as Sarah. Bernard, Andrew’s successor at work, was also there. We were happy to see him again as we’d met him during his first week on the job several months ago. He was the official photographer for the day and also helped translate for us.
Andrew was the preacher for the day and spoke in Swahili for a good 20 minutes with no problem. I can only hope that I’ll be able to speak Swahili that well at some point. I manage about a minute and a half now if I speak slowly. I didn’t catch much of what Andrew said which was unfortunate as he used on of my favorite passages as the basis for his remarks (Philippians 4:4-9 in case you’re interested), but I could get a few words and phrases here and there. I was even able to understand one complete sentence at one point. It was an exciting moment! The most entertaining moment of the service came when we had to introduce ourselves. We were all sitting at the front of the church and literally just as Lianne stood up to introduce herself it started pouring outside. The church has an iron roof which is held up by wooden beams. There is no insulation or anything between the roof and the ground other than the beams and air, so, as you can imagine, it was a bit loud. Poor Lianne got all the way through her introduction only to be told that no one could hear her! She tried again with a microphone, but between the static from the microphone, the noise of the rain and her rather quiet voice, no one was able to hear her. The rest of us where just told to shout our introductions. That seemed to work.
After the service was over (it was about 2.5 hours long), we moved to a room in a building next to the church and sat with the priest and his family, Frederik, the former priest of Chang’ombe (who had introduced Andrew to the church) and his family, and some other members of the congregation. Frederik had me move across the room away from Sarah, Lianne, Josh and Andy to sit by Bernard so we could sort of mix things up and not have all of the visitors just sitting together. So, Bernard and I chatted about where he’s from, the Diocese of Mara, his work and living in Dodoma. We also chatted about Barack Obama and the United States. It turns out that Bernard’s home diocese is actually linked with Andrew’s diocese back in the UK. It’s a small world.
During the course of the hour or so we all spent sitting and chatting together, we were asked some questions about Barack Obama by several people. It was an interesting experience, as so far everyone here has been very excited about Obama’s election. That didn’t really seem to be the case here. Basically, several people wanted to know if we thought Obama would do a good job and if we thought we could trust him. The trust question was specifically related to press about Obama and his relationship with Muslims. It was a bit awkward, but our responses seemed to be good enough. We were told, though, that if Obama does a good job we can rejoice, but if he does not, it’s our fault for electing him. So there you go!
After we’d chatted for a bit and everyone drank a bottle of soda, we went back into the church for the second part of the send off. The church had been redecorated and a table set up at the front for Andrew, the two priests and their families to sit at. This second part of the send off was a bit less formal than the church service, though really still quite formal all things considered. There were more speeches and opportunities for people who hadn’t spoken at the service to talk. I should also mention that the send-off was also for Pastor Frederik and his family as he is now working or studying (I can’t remember which) at St. John’s University in Dodoma.
The church women had prepared lunch for everyone-no small feat as there were about 100 people there! One of the women had baked Andrew a heart-shaped cake which was presented to him before lunch and then cut up into small pieces so everyone could have some. After lunch was finished, it was picture time. I have no idea how many pictures were taken, but believe me, it was a lot.
Despite the fact that the day was a bit longer than we’d anticipated (we didn’t get home until almost 4pm), I really enjoyed going to the service. It’s always great to meet new people and visit new churches here in Dodoma. Everyone was very welcoming and told us we should come back. It was also really great to see the relationship that Andrew has built with the congregation at Chang’ombe. Everyone wanted to say goodbye to him with a handshake, a hug or a picture-often all three. He’ll obviously be missed!
While it was great to be a part of Andrew’s send-off, it was also sad. Andrew was one of the first people we met here in Dodoma and will soon be gone. We certainly didn’t see each other every day, but it was nice to run into each other around town and have lunch together occasionally. According to my mother, I haven't liked saying goodbye to people since I was little. Obviously, I haven’t grown out of that.
I’ll have to figure out a way to convince Sarah to stay…
Sunday Service at Chamwino Mjini
On Sunday, November 30th Sarah, Magi, Callum, Laura, Noel and I went to the 7:30am service at Chamwino Mjini, also known as Chamwino Urban in the Carpenter’s Kids world to help differentiate it from Chamwino Maduma which is another of our parishes. Interestingly enough, I have now figured out why we call the parish Chamwino Urban in all of our files. Mjini literally means ‘in town’ in Swahili. The things you learn when you study a language.
Anyway, back to the story. The priest of Chamwino Mjini is the Reverend Canon Philemon Sudayi who is the father of Mmoti, our Carpenter’s Kids Program Administrator. We initially met Canon Sudayi in August when the Reverend Ellen O’Hara, the rector of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Pleasant Valley, NY which is linked with Chamwino Mjini, visited Dodoma as part of the ENDY pilgrimage group. Canon Sudayi is always happy to chat with Sarah and I whenever we see him in the Carpenter’s Kids office or around town. He’d invited us to attend a service at his church awhile ago and we were happy that we were able to find a date that was convenient for everyone.
Now of course we thought that we’d just come for the service, like you’d expect to do when you go visit a church, right? Not so much. Callum, Noel and I went out to see Canon Sudayi about a Carpenter’s Kids matter the week before and after we’d finished discussing that we talked about the Sunday service. Imagine our surprise when he said, “So, you will come to the service and you will do the readings, and you can sing and someone can preach.” Thankfully, Callum plays the piano and Laura sings, so the music part of that proposal was no problem. We figured that we could do the readings, but we didn’t know if anyone would want to preach. After a quick check with Magi and Sarah, we confirmed that no one in our group really wanted to preach, so we told Canon Sudayi that we could do a song and the readings.
We didn’t think to ask him when we were there at the church what the readings for the following Sunday would be-why I don’t know. I asked several people during the week but no one knew. Finally, on Saturday morning as we were driving toward Izava for a distribution, Noel looked at the chart in my prayer book and found the readings. It would be that easy. I tried to read part of the gospel lesson as we were in the car, but my stomach decided that reading while sitting sideways in a bumpy Land Cruiser was not the best use of my time. When we got back from our distribution, Magi told me that she had gotten the readings from Pastor Noah as well. It was nice to know that the chart in my prayer book was accurate. We’d also stopped by the church to confirm one last detail with Canon Sudayi when we’d first arrived back in town, and it turned out that we only needed to read 2 of the lessons for the day, the Old Testament reading and the Gospel. Since I’d already started to look at the reading from Matthew in the car, I volunteered to take that one. Foolish, foolish me. It was the longer of the two! Magi said she’d read the passage from Isaiah.
While Canon Sudayi said that we could do the readings in either English or Swahili, I thought it would be good to try to read in Swahili. Of course, when I first got that idea stuck in my head I’d thought I’d know what I would be reading sooner than the night before the service. Nonetheless, I decided that I was going to try to read the Gospel in Swahili. Why there are so many syllables in Swahili words, I’ll never know. There were so many long words in that passage! I think I read the passage in my head and out loud a good 10 times Saturday night. It sounded ok, by the time I finished practicing, but it was late and I was tired so maybe it really didn’t.
Sunday morning, we all piled into the car and made our way to Chamwino Mjini. I asked Noel to read the passage from Matthew aloud so I could hear how it was actually supposed to sound. He tried to read slowly, but it still sounded like it was coming at the speed of light to me! We arrived at the church and were warmly welcomed by Canon Sudayi and one of the church catechists and then shown to our seats, at the front of the church, of course. Noel and I went outside so I could practice reading again with him listening to correct my pronunciation. Canon Sudayi came outside to get us and told me that I could read it in English if I wanted to, but that people would appreciate me trying to read it in English even if I needed to stop and switch to English part way through.
The service was great. It was a traditional communion service complete with several choirs, including a great group of Carpenter’s Kids singing and dancing. Callum and Laura sang O Come, O Come Emmanuel to an appreciative audience. About a third of the way through the service, Canon Sudayi asked us to introduce ourselves to the congregation-in Swahili of course-and I was able to read a short note that I’d received from Ellen O’Hara to the congregation with Noel providing the Swahili translation. Everyone was very happy to hear from Ellen through us and was pleased that she remembered her visit to their church so fondly.
A short time after that, Magi read the passage from Isaiah in English and Noel went up with her and read it in Swahili. Then it was my turn. Thankfully, Noel went up with me and held the microphone for me. I was even more thankful that there was a podium that I could set the Bible on so that I didn’t have to hold it. Noel announced the reading in Swahili since I didn’t know how to do that. Then I started reading. I did ok for the first few sentences but then I started to get nervous. I made it all the way through the reading-I think it was about 11 verses long-but by the time I was done, I had started holding on the sides of the podium so people wouldn’t see how badly my hands were shaking. While my reading was not even close to resembling fluent Swahili reading, I think people were able to understand what I was saying and, if not, most people had their Bibles open and were following along so they could at least read it for themselves.
Canon Sudayi asked Magi to assist with communion and Sarah got some great pictures of her, which are on Magi’s computer so unfortunately I can’t show them to you. At the end of the service, Canon Sudayi asked us to say something to the congregation. I said something in Swahili, I honestly can’t remember what though. I think it was something along the lines of ‘Thank you very much for welcoming us. We are very happy to be here at Chamwino Mjini and see all of you today.’ It was much easier to say that than to read in Swahili! After we’d finished speaking, Canon Sudayi had us process out of the church with him and the catechist. Outside we shook hands with the two of them and then we shook hands with every other person in the church-about 200 people.
At the end of every service we’ve been to, with perhaps one exception, we go out the front doors of the church and shake hands. We do that back home too, but it’s different here. What happens is this: you leave the church and shake hands with the priest, the catechist, etc, then you get in line next to them so that the person behind you shakes the priest’s hand, the catechist’s hand and your hand before taking their place next to you in the line. So since I was the 4th person out the door, behind Canon Sudayi, the catechist and Magi, I shook hands with all 3 of them and then joined the line, with Callum, Laura and Noel following suit. Sarah was taking pictures so she missed out on the line. By the time the church was empty, there was a large line of people that curved its way around the parking lot in front of the church. It’s actually really nice, but you sure do shake a lot of hands!
After we’d finished shaking hands, Canon Sudayi invited us to tea at his house which is right next door to the church. We washed our hands before entering the sitting room and were then offered tea, coffee and hot chocolate as well as mandaazi and sambusas. Canon Sudayi was only able to stay long enough to thank us for coming and introduce us to his wife before he had to go back to the church for the second service of the morning. We were joined by Richard, the Carpenter’s Kids Communications Coordinator, who I believe may also be the Committee Chair, and several committee members. One of them looked very familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. Then Magi introduced us to her. She’s Bishop Mhogolo’s sister! That’s why she looked familiar. They look a great deal alike. She was very nice and was quite taken with the song that Callum and Laura performed and asked them to sing it again so she could remember the melody. They did, and we all joined in so they didn’t have to sing alone, and then gave the Bishop’s sister the music and lyrics. We had a nice visit with everyone and took a group photo before heading home.
I’m sure we’ll go back and visit again. They have a very nice congregation and are very supportive of their Carpenter’s Kids.
Anyway, back to the story. The priest of Chamwino Mjini is the Reverend Canon Philemon Sudayi who is the father of Mmoti, our Carpenter’s Kids Program Administrator. We initially met Canon Sudayi in August when the Reverend Ellen O’Hara, the rector of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Pleasant Valley, NY which is linked with Chamwino Mjini, visited Dodoma as part of the ENDY pilgrimage group. Canon Sudayi is always happy to chat with Sarah and I whenever we see him in the Carpenter’s Kids office or around town. He’d invited us to attend a service at his church awhile ago and we were happy that we were able to find a date that was convenient for everyone.
Now of course we thought that we’d just come for the service, like you’d expect to do when you go visit a church, right? Not so much. Callum, Noel and I went out to see Canon Sudayi about a Carpenter’s Kids matter the week before and after we’d finished discussing that we talked about the Sunday service. Imagine our surprise when he said, “So, you will come to the service and you will do the readings, and you can sing and someone can preach.” Thankfully, Callum plays the piano and Laura sings, so the music part of that proposal was no problem. We figured that we could do the readings, but we didn’t know if anyone would want to preach. After a quick check with Magi and Sarah, we confirmed that no one in our group really wanted to preach, so we told Canon Sudayi that we could do a song and the readings.
We didn’t think to ask him when we were there at the church what the readings for the following Sunday would be-why I don’t know. I asked several people during the week but no one knew. Finally, on Saturday morning as we were driving toward Izava for a distribution, Noel looked at the chart in my prayer book and found the readings. It would be that easy. I tried to read part of the gospel lesson as we were in the car, but my stomach decided that reading while sitting sideways in a bumpy Land Cruiser was not the best use of my time. When we got back from our distribution, Magi told me that she had gotten the readings from Pastor Noah as well. It was nice to know that the chart in my prayer book was accurate. We’d also stopped by the church to confirm one last detail with Canon Sudayi when we’d first arrived back in town, and it turned out that we only needed to read 2 of the lessons for the day, the Old Testament reading and the Gospel. Since I’d already started to look at the reading from Matthew in the car, I volunteered to take that one. Foolish, foolish me. It was the longer of the two! Magi said she’d read the passage from Isaiah.
While Canon Sudayi said that we could do the readings in either English or Swahili, I thought it would be good to try to read in Swahili. Of course, when I first got that idea stuck in my head I’d thought I’d know what I would be reading sooner than the night before the service. Nonetheless, I decided that I was going to try to read the Gospel in Swahili. Why there are so many syllables in Swahili words, I’ll never know. There were so many long words in that passage! I think I read the passage in my head and out loud a good 10 times Saturday night. It sounded ok, by the time I finished practicing, but it was late and I was tired so maybe it really didn’t.
Sunday morning, we all piled into the car and made our way to Chamwino Mjini. I asked Noel to read the passage from Matthew aloud so I could hear how it was actually supposed to sound. He tried to read slowly, but it still sounded like it was coming at the speed of light to me! We arrived at the church and were warmly welcomed by Canon Sudayi and one of the church catechists and then shown to our seats, at the front of the church, of course. Noel and I went outside so I could practice reading again with him listening to correct my pronunciation. Canon Sudayi came outside to get us and told me that I could read it in English if I wanted to, but that people would appreciate me trying to read it in English even if I needed to stop and switch to English part way through.
The service was great. It was a traditional communion service complete with several choirs, including a great group of Carpenter’s Kids singing and dancing. Callum and Laura sang O Come, O Come Emmanuel to an appreciative audience. About a third of the way through the service, Canon Sudayi asked us to introduce ourselves to the congregation-in Swahili of course-and I was able to read a short note that I’d received from Ellen O’Hara to the congregation with Noel providing the Swahili translation. Everyone was very happy to hear from Ellen through us and was pleased that she remembered her visit to their church so fondly.
A short time after that, Magi read the passage from Isaiah in English and Noel went up with her and read it in Swahili. Then it was my turn. Thankfully, Noel went up with me and held the microphone for me. I was even more thankful that there was a podium that I could set the Bible on so that I didn’t have to hold it. Noel announced the reading in Swahili since I didn’t know how to do that. Then I started reading. I did ok for the first few sentences but then I started to get nervous. I made it all the way through the reading-I think it was about 11 verses long-but by the time I was done, I had started holding on the sides of the podium so people wouldn’t see how badly my hands were shaking. While my reading was not even close to resembling fluent Swahili reading, I think people were able to understand what I was saying and, if not, most people had their Bibles open and were following along so they could at least read it for themselves.
Canon Sudayi asked Magi to assist with communion and Sarah got some great pictures of her, which are on Magi’s computer so unfortunately I can’t show them to you. At the end of the service, Canon Sudayi asked us to say something to the congregation. I said something in Swahili, I honestly can’t remember what though. I think it was something along the lines of ‘Thank you very much for welcoming us. We are very happy to be here at Chamwino Mjini and see all of you today.’ It was much easier to say that than to read in Swahili! After we’d finished speaking, Canon Sudayi had us process out of the church with him and the catechist. Outside we shook hands with the two of them and then we shook hands with every other person in the church-about 200 people.
At the end of every service we’ve been to, with perhaps one exception, we go out the front doors of the church and shake hands. We do that back home too, but it’s different here. What happens is this: you leave the church and shake hands with the priest, the catechist, etc, then you get in line next to them so that the person behind you shakes the priest’s hand, the catechist’s hand and your hand before taking their place next to you in the line. So since I was the 4th person out the door, behind Canon Sudayi, the catechist and Magi, I shook hands with all 3 of them and then joined the line, with Callum, Laura and Noel following suit. Sarah was taking pictures so she missed out on the line. By the time the church was empty, there was a large line of people that curved its way around the parking lot in front of the church. It’s actually really nice, but you sure do shake a lot of hands!
After we’d finished shaking hands, Canon Sudayi invited us to tea at his house which is right next door to the church. We washed our hands before entering the sitting room and were then offered tea, coffee and hot chocolate as well as mandaazi and sambusas. Canon Sudayi was only able to stay long enough to thank us for coming and introduce us to his wife before he had to go back to the church for the second service of the morning. We were joined by Richard, the Carpenter’s Kids Communications Coordinator, who I believe may also be the Committee Chair, and several committee members. One of them looked very familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. Then Magi introduced us to her. She’s Bishop Mhogolo’s sister! That’s why she looked familiar. They look a great deal alike. She was very nice and was quite taken with the song that Callum and Laura performed and asked them to sing it again so she could remember the melody. They did, and we all joined in so they didn’t have to sing alone, and then gave the Bishop’s sister the music and lyrics. We had a nice visit with everyone and took a group photo before heading home.
I’m sure we’ll go back and visit again. They have a very nice congregation and are very supportive of their Carpenter’s Kids.
Izava and Mayamaya
On Saturday, 29 November, we had our final distributions of the year in the parishes of Izava and Mayamaya, linked with the Church of the Good Shepherd, Granite Springs and the Church of the Good Shepherd, Manhattan respectively. All I knew about the two parishes was that they were very far away from Dodoma. So far, that we had to leave at 7:00am to get there-we usually leave around 8:30am.
So, 7:00am rolled around with Callum and me expecting to only see Willie and John Joseph picking us up from our compound. Well, that didn’t actually happen. Willie and John Joseph were there, but so were three other people: two girls from Itiso parish who are Carpenter’s Kids and go to vocational school in Dodoma and a committee member from Izava. Noel arrived on his piki piki about a minute after the Land Cruiser. Now when we are going to do two distributions on the same day the Land Cruiser gets pretty full because we have 100 uniforms, 100 pairs of shoes and 100 backpacks full of school supplies. So, we had all of that, plus the two girls’ suitcases and bags because their school was on vacation until some time in January, the two girls, the committee member, Callum, Noel, Willie and me. We hadn’t even picked up Sarah and John yet!
When we got to Sarah’s compound and she saw the number of people already in the vehicle, the look on her face was priceless. She got in and we set off for Msalato to get John. We got out at his house to meet his wife and see his puppy and then he got in, bringing the total number of people in the vehicle to ten plus lots of stuff. Thankfully, one of the girls moved up to sit in the front with John and John Joseph so there was a little bit more room in the back. Not much, but it made a difference. Then we began the long journey to Izava, which is one of the northernmost parishes in the diocese. It was also raining, did I mention that? Let’s just say that we now understand why we try to avoid doing distributions during the rainy season. Dirt roads and rain are not the best combination.
We drove north for awhile and then the landscape changed a great deal. There were mountains and a forest and everything was green. It was great! After about 2 hours or so, we got to Itiso and the two girls got out of the Cruiser. We said goodbye to them and continued on to Izava with more leg room, which we all appreciated a great deal by that point. We arrived in Izava by about 10:00am and were warmly welcomed by the priest’s wife. The priest was away for some reason, but his wife invited us to their house for tea and chapati. During the conversation, it somehow came up that Callum and I had Chigogo names, but Sarah didn’t. So, people thought for a minute and then gave Sarah the name of Mamvula which, loosely translated, means ‘when the rain comes.’ It was raining when we arrived, so it was definitely an appropriate choice. Rain is also seen as a great blessing here, as you can imagine, so that adds a nice additional meaning to the name as well. Of course, since we all had Chigogo names we had to use them in our standard introductions. This went over really well. Callum’s name made people laugh and clap. His Chigogo name means ‘Chief.’
The funniest part of the morning, though, came when John Joseph introduced himself. He’d been outside while the rest of us were introducing ourselves and came in just as we were about to start the distribution. He introduced himself and when someone asked him what his Chigogo name was, Noel piped up with ‘Mahikwi!’ Everyone started laughing. Well, everyone that is except Sarah, Callum and me. Our Chigogo is non-existent beyond maybe 5 words. A member of the committee told us what mahikwi meant and then we knew why everyone was laughing. It means pumpkin! I immediately decided to call John Joseph Mahikwi Lishe, a play on the term Mama Lishe (the women who take care of the Carpenter’s Kids), which made Willie laugh. John Joseph tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t.
The rest of the distribution went well. We went back to the priest’s house for a soda and a bit of a rest before heading off to Mayamaya. We thought that when we left Izava we’d be able to sort of stretch out a bit in the Cruiser since we’d have fewer people and not as much stuff in the back. We were wrong. Willie bought a huge bag of peanuts in Izava, but that went on the top of the vehicle, so that was fine. We gave the priest’s wife a lift to a neighboring village and wished her well. We were all just getting comfortable when we came to a village that was on the side of the road and stopped. Willie got out and walked over to one of the houses out of which a woman had just come. It turned out that she was from Dodoma and had worked at Furaha Hostel with Pastor Noah. He had dropped her off at the village on his way to do a parish review about a week earlier and then had arranged for us to pick her up. We waited for a few minutes for her to gather some things together and then Willie loaded the baskets and bags of peanuts and beans into the Cruiser. Then we were on our way again, slightly squished but not too bad all things considered.
We arrived in Mayamaya, met the priest and conducted the distribution with no problem at all. Everyone was very happy to see us and after we finished, we were invited to the priest’s house for lunch. Of course it was mid-afternoon by that time, but we had lunch nonetheless. In the course of the conversation, we learned that the priest’s wife had just given birth at a hospital in Dodoma and so we told the priest that we’d be happy to give him a ride to Dodoma. As we were getting ready to go home, we saw John Joseph and Willie loading large bags of charcoal on the top of the Cruiser. Four of them. So, by the time we said goodbye to everyone in Mayamaya we were almost as full as we had been when we first set off in the morning! I have to say, though, lack of legroom aside; I really admire the sense of community here. No one thinks twice about lending a hand when it’s necessary.
As we headed home to Dodoma, it started to rain again. We splashed through numerous large mud puddles as we drove. The Cruiser got a nice mud bath. We stopped at a big market near Msalato so John could get some meat from a butcher and then continued on. The only time we had a little trouble on the road was when we hit a patch where they’d obviously been trying to fill in some potholes with dirt. The only problem was that the dirt had just been put down all over the road and it was really soft. When combined with the rain, it created driving conditions similar to having soft snow and ice on the road. At one point we skidded to the side of the road and got stuck. Thank goodness for 4-wheel drive! John Joseph put the car in gear and off we went. Not everyone on the road was so lucky. There was one little car that was just stuck in the middle of the road. This prompted Noel to call the driver a ‘Shamba Boy,’ the Swahili equivalent to a country bumpkin, I guess, and Noel’s insult of choice when he thinks someone does something stupid. I should point out that he didn’t actually call the driver ‘Shamba Boy’ to his face, he just muttered it in the confines of our vehicle. No road rage here.
We dropped John off at home and wished him a good rest of the weekend. Then we dropped off the woman from Furaha Hostel at her home and then the priest from Mayamaya at the bus stop he wanted to go to in Dodoma. John Joseph and Willie dropped Callum, Sarah, Noel and I off at Callum and my compound before heading home for the weekend. It was 6:00pm. A long day!
So, 7:00am rolled around with Callum and me expecting to only see Willie and John Joseph picking us up from our compound. Well, that didn’t actually happen. Willie and John Joseph were there, but so were three other people: two girls from Itiso parish who are Carpenter’s Kids and go to vocational school in Dodoma and a committee member from Izava. Noel arrived on his piki piki about a minute after the Land Cruiser. Now when we are going to do two distributions on the same day the Land Cruiser gets pretty full because we have 100 uniforms, 100 pairs of shoes and 100 backpacks full of school supplies. So, we had all of that, plus the two girls’ suitcases and bags because their school was on vacation until some time in January, the two girls, the committee member, Callum, Noel, Willie and me. We hadn’t even picked up Sarah and John yet!
When we got to Sarah’s compound and she saw the number of people already in the vehicle, the look on her face was priceless. She got in and we set off for Msalato to get John. We got out at his house to meet his wife and see his puppy and then he got in, bringing the total number of people in the vehicle to ten plus lots of stuff. Thankfully, one of the girls moved up to sit in the front with John and John Joseph so there was a little bit more room in the back. Not much, but it made a difference. Then we began the long journey to Izava, which is one of the northernmost parishes in the diocese. It was also raining, did I mention that? Let’s just say that we now understand why we try to avoid doing distributions during the rainy season. Dirt roads and rain are not the best combination.
We drove north for awhile and then the landscape changed a great deal. There were mountains and a forest and everything was green. It was great! After about 2 hours or so, we got to Itiso and the two girls got out of the Cruiser. We said goodbye to them and continued on to Izava with more leg room, which we all appreciated a great deal by that point. We arrived in Izava by about 10:00am and were warmly welcomed by the priest’s wife. The priest was away for some reason, but his wife invited us to their house for tea and chapati. During the conversation, it somehow came up that Callum and I had Chigogo names, but Sarah didn’t. So, people thought for a minute and then gave Sarah the name of Mamvula which, loosely translated, means ‘when the rain comes.’ It was raining when we arrived, so it was definitely an appropriate choice. Rain is also seen as a great blessing here, as you can imagine, so that adds a nice additional meaning to the name as well. Of course, since we all had Chigogo names we had to use them in our standard introductions. This went over really well. Callum’s name made people laugh and clap. His Chigogo name means ‘Chief.’
The funniest part of the morning, though, came when John Joseph introduced himself. He’d been outside while the rest of us were introducing ourselves and came in just as we were about to start the distribution. He introduced himself and when someone asked him what his Chigogo name was, Noel piped up with ‘Mahikwi!’ Everyone started laughing. Well, everyone that is except Sarah, Callum and me. Our Chigogo is non-existent beyond maybe 5 words. A member of the committee told us what mahikwi meant and then we knew why everyone was laughing. It means pumpkin! I immediately decided to call John Joseph Mahikwi Lishe, a play on the term Mama Lishe (the women who take care of the Carpenter’s Kids), which made Willie laugh. John Joseph tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t.
The rest of the distribution went well. We went back to the priest’s house for a soda and a bit of a rest before heading off to Mayamaya. We thought that when we left Izava we’d be able to sort of stretch out a bit in the Cruiser since we’d have fewer people and not as much stuff in the back. We were wrong. Willie bought a huge bag of peanuts in Izava, but that went on the top of the vehicle, so that was fine. We gave the priest’s wife a lift to a neighboring village and wished her well. We were all just getting comfortable when we came to a village that was on the side of the road and stopped. Willie got out and walked over to one of the houses out of which a woman had just come. It turned out that she was from Dodoma and had worked at Furaha Hostel with Pastor Noah. He had dropped her off at the village on his way to do a parish review about a week earlier and then had arranged for us to pick her up. We waited for a few minutes for her to gather some things together and then Willie loaded the baskets and bags of peanuts and beans into the Cruiser. Then we were on our way again, slightly squished but not too bad all things considered.
We arrived in Mayamaya, met the priest and conducted the distribution with no problem at all. Everyone was very happy to see us and after we finished, we were invited to the priest’s house for lunch. Of course it was mid-afternoon by that time, but we had lunch nonetheless. In the course of the conversation, we learned that the priest’s wife had just given birth at a hospital in Dodoma and so we told the priest that we’d be happy to give him a ride to Dodoma. As we were getting ready to go home, we saw John Joseph and Willie loading large bags of charcoal on the top of the Cruiser. Four of them. So, by the time we said goodbye to everyone in Mayamaya we were almost as full as we had been when we first set off in the morning! I have to say, though, lack of legroom aside; I really admire the sense of community here. No one thinks twice about lending a hand when it’s necessary.
As we headed home to Dodoma, it started to rain again. We splashed through numerous large mud puddles as we drove. The Cruiser got a nice mud bath. We stopped at a big market near Msalato so John could get some meat from a butcher and then continued on. The only time we had a little trouble on the road was when we hit a patch where they’d obviously been trying to fill in some potholes with dirt. The only problem was that the dirt had just been put down all over the road and it was really soft. When combined with the rain, it created driving conditions similar to having soft snow and ice on the road. At one point we skidded to the side of the road and got stuck. Thank goodness for 4-wheel drive! John Joseph put the car in gear and off we went. Not everyone on the road was so lucky. There was one little car that was just stuck in the middle of the road. This prompted Noel to call the driver a ‘Shamba Boy,’ the Swahili equivalent to a country bumpkin, I guess, and Noel’s insult of choice when he thinks someone does something stupid. I should point out that he didn’t actually call the driver ‘Shamba Boy’ to his face, he just muttered it in the confines of our vehicle. No road rage here.
We dropped John off at home and wished him a good rest of the weekend. Then we dropped off the woman from Furaha Hostel at her home and then the priest from Mayamaya at the bus stop he wanted to go to in Dodoma. John Joseph and Willie dropped Callum, Sarah, Noel and I off at Callum and my compound before heading home for the weekend. It was 6:00pm. A long day!
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