"It's like Hindu Christmas"

Tuesday was a very eventful day.  We began the day in a nearby Masai village.  It was a pretty basic visit (they are all amazing but I realize that I have spoken about many.)  We were given a tour while Pr. Hafermann registered the people for baptism.  The tours led by Moreto are always fun and full of sarcasm as he shows us around everyday life in the small huts.  Moreto asked us about the attitude in the US like in general.  In broken Kiswaili we tried to explain that, while everything is nzuri in TZ it is not in the US.  Smiles and greetings are far less rare.  We asked if the smiles were often disingenuous in TZ.  Of course, they are not, he told us.  While the people may be hurting in many ways, they are always happy to meet each other and the idea is that a smil comes from within, so when you smile it always an indication of the joy inside.  This is nice and all, but I wonder about the extreme poverty and illness and malnutrition that we have witnessed.  I suppose that happiness is not always married to these things. Maybe it is possible to find joy everywhere.

Notably, there were thirteen baptisms yesterday and the kids were especially happy to play with us.

In the evening we went with Roohid and Mamka to the Hindu temple for a Diwali celebration.  I am certain that Peter wrote extensively about it. I will just say that it was very exciting and we were welcomed very wholly by Roohid and Mamka and the priest.  Though the people were a little shut off as this temple is somewhat conservative and like a very exclusive family.  There was a blessing last night and so many fireworks and a giant meal (normally served by men, but served by the women in this conservative sect.)  Diwali is very much a family affair, there is a short blessing and tonight there is chanting but most of it happens at home with the household deity.  I learned a lot, but am honestly too tired to write any more so I will write another time about it...if you are lucky.  

This week has been full of village visits.  It has been so good to spend the majority of the week off campus actually using our Swahili.  Today was especially good.  Moreto came with us to today's village far into the pori.  The roads are impeccable. Ha.  It is a good thing we have Luka, he is an incredible driver.  I now understand why four wheel drive is made.  It is not for Palin-ite hockey moms but for the sheol-esque pits over which we cross on a daily basis.  The road was about as rocky as the current situation of the people of this village.  They have been displaced many times.  Land that is rightfully theirs has been taken by the local government to give to Waswahili people.  This is evidence of the certain prejudice against the Masai people here in Tanzania.  So now they have built a somewhat permanent church building (it is simply a wooden frame and a corrugated iron or tin roof) as a statement against their constant displacement.  It is interesting to be welcomed so heartily by a group who is something of a constant other in mainstream Tanzanian culture.  The oppression is not always evident and most people can go to school and things with Masai and get along just fine.  But they have a false reputation of being lazy and undereducated (so far from the truth! the people all go to school and value work very highly) and are often driven off their own land, sometimes physically by fire.  What is really remarkable is that, while the Masai are pushed aside by society, the Church has completely accepted them.  It is so good to see the unity that the Church has brought.  When there is a Waswahili lutheran church in the area, Masai always come and are welcomed as full members of the body.  They have really built community with each other.  The Church is all of them, and they are all fully aware of this fact!  

Today's village has many other problems besides displacement.  Many of the people are related to a young man who was recently strangled by his own tunic when it got caught in his motorcycle chain.  What's more, there have been recent murders of a few tribe member and about 400 stolen cattle.  This community is hurting very badly and is on the verge of war with a neighboring tribe.  It is very bad.  

Positively, the people don't want war.  They don't want violence.  They are hungry for a message of peace which is evidenced by the fact that so many showed up for church today and show up every week.  Weekly, the village averages about 100 people packed into this little wall-less building with about ten benches.  Which is very high.  Today there were far more than this.  People were pushing to see and sitting very close (I quarter cheeked it for the whol 3.5 hour service.)  There were so many people spilled outside the "walls." So many people that we had to hold communion outside of the building!  It was a service that would make strict high-churchers faint.  With this many people and children the noise was constant and very loud.  So loud that there were points when one could not even hear the pastor.  People really come with their full humanity to church and it is welcomed.  It was amazing, during the baptisms (there were well over ten) people crowded up front to see.  People are so eager for community and peace.  I stayed in my seat and spoke with a bunch of the primary school children (holding a conversation when the Lord is working...tsk tsk tsk, ha.)  If church really is community and is about glorifying God then it would do as God would.  Jesus spent so much time just getting to know people in their full humanity, and that is what happened today.  I spent the baptism time becoming less of and other and more of a friend to some of the kids.  They really enjoy playing with our skin and hair.  Many are scared of us until they do this, seeing that we are really similar to them.  Ha, some scream the first time we approach but warm up when we begin speaking abd showing them our stupid little body tricks.  Now that the Swahili skills are developing to a child's level it is very nice to get to know them.  They have so much hope for th future, they all want to do amazing things. It is a shame that money often prohibits kids from receiving the schooling they so deserve.  Money in their family and in the government.  Worship was really worship today!  We really existed as community.  It is amazin to see how quickly being welcomed as the other turns into being enjoyed as a friend.  The vulnerability of welcoming really opens one to end fear of the other and join together in commonality and a common curiosity concerning differences.  Hospitality is such a radical thing that destroys fear and distrust.  In the villages hospitality is constantly shown as we are given food and drink right away (a normal place for formal hospitality), we are spoken to as honored guests and friends and then enjoy ritual hospitality as songs are sung to welcome us during church and we are cheered upon introducing ourselves.  God is so present in all of this.  The destruction of fear is made manifest in how much we are trusted around children.  We act kind of like babysitters during our stays which is amazing.  

Before the service we were given food, which kind of lightens us up and is a real good indicator of our humanity and our willingness to be culturally sensitive and reliant upon them.  This opens up conversation very quickly.  We spoke with a boy today for a long time, Saani, who just finished primary school and will head to secondary school next January.  He wants to be an evangelist (a formal job here) so we spoke a lot about theological training.  We also got to know an Islamic man, Sebastian, who is from Dodoma but works near Morogoro.  He knew a little english so helped us speak Swahili, correcting us along the way as we attempted to discuss life near Morogoro.  

Reformation Sunday

Happy Reformation Sunday!  Church this morning was rather interesting.  Not only was it the day of reformation but it was also the harvest celebration.  For this reason, many guests were invited and expected.  This was very exciting for me as I had the opportunity finally to see how all guests are treated.  While there are guests at things like weddings, I am so used to the Wartburgers being the only guests of honor during normal worship.  Today gave me a chance to observe hospitality from a further back.  

We pulled into a Waswahili village after bouncing up a mountainous road in the KKKT mobile.  Many of the faces were quite familiar but the village was a new one.  It was built on old training grounds for Zimbabwean freedom fighters.  After they had left the area the land went up for grabs and a new village was formed.  Unfortunately, the soldiers neglected to remove some of the land mines and a few children died from them years ago.  Anyway, we were welcomed with warmth as usual and after the customary humanizing extended greetings we were ushered into the guest space for tea and kasava.  In the past couple visits I have been attuned to the significance of space in hospitality.  People have a strange sense of space.  It is rather important to us.  We experience topophilia, the love of space, so that certain places are very very dear to us.  Those who are careful in their practice of hospitality are quite sensitive to this human need to love space.  For this reason, many communities in Tanzania have very special spaces where guests are welcome to relax and enjoy their stay with very much comfort.  I think the desire of the host to induce topophilia may be the reason we get nifty plastic chairs at the Masai villages and why people are so eager to show us around.  It also occurred to me that we are always in someone's home in the holy time surrounding formal worship (still a part of worship).  I am reminded of the first century house churches every time we sit and enjoy hospitality.  The welcoming family and the women (usually) who serve have a very important role in sustaining the body of Christ.  In hospitality, the other, the guest, is invited into a space that the welcomer loves in hopes of instilling peace and love into the other.  Both parties are made vulnerable to each other as the welcomer has set herself out for the guest to see and the other's comfort and maybe even life depend on the hospitality of the host.  Also, during tea I noticed that no one enters unless welcomed in.  No one assumes their high and mighty state but waits patiently until welcomed.  This is the same in Church as the guest (us and many others today) sit in the humble places until welcomed to the seats of honor in the front.  It is almost always this way.  Something of a ritual of humbleness.

So we enjoyed tea very much and then moved outside to where the children were sitting very quietly.  Steve pulled out the bubble.  Normally, the kids perk right up when the bubbles begin but today it took some time.  Though, in the end Steve and I got very close to the kids as we tried to speak to them and had them help us speak Swahili.  Kids like when they are smarter than you.  Peter had a little three year old follow him around.  When Peter would sit, the kid would sit in the same way.  There are so many children in these villages. So many.

Church was wonderful!  We were welcomed in and brought to seats of honor.  What was even more amazing this week was that during the usual extended time to introduce and welcome guests, the congregation found out some were seated in the back and they were brought to seats of honor.  It is nice to be honored along with other non mzungu guests.  As the harvest festival was yesterday, the village invited surrounding faith communities to celebrate with worship.  Anglicans, more Lutherans and a group of Catholic chatecists showed up.  I found it amazing, absolutely amazing and so unlike the states that on REFORMATION SUNDAY people from the Catholic church not only came to the service but COMMUNED with us.  They were told that this meal is one of unity offered by Jesus and it doesn't belong to any one group.  Next thing we knew the hand full of Catholics were kneeling right next to us.  This sort of unity is so rare but is characteristic of Tanzania.  There is a mutual love of neighbor that I have not encountered elsewhere.  

After church there was the usual auction at which we bought gifts for people of the village, and junk for ourselves.  People give all they can to these communities.  I can really see the story of the woman with the small offering at work here.  This is really like a New Testament community.  Luka always buys chickens at the auction and I have been the one every time to opt to sit in the back of the car on the way back to school and care for the animals.  I am definitely not a farm kid but hangin with the chickens has become a nice little past time of mine.  

We were enjoying our dafu and sugar cane after the auction when the rains came.  The short rainy season has begun.  It is both beautiful and, as a westerner, terrifying to see a people so reliant on the seasons and the regularity of their arrival.  No water, no life.  Rain is such a blessing here and really a reminder of baptism.

On Saturday we went to the cattle market again.  I really enjoy these social occasions.  I am becoming more and more comfortable with the people.  We run into many who ask us if they remember them and I am pretty good at at least guessing who they are and where we met.  Also, you will be pleased to know that being a recovering vegetarian is going smoothly.  At the markets we always order a goat leg, ribs and liver.  The goat is slaughtered at the market which really doesn't bother me. I actually like the idea of knowing my meat before I eat it.  But it is cook over very hot coals and tastes delicious.  Honestly, the liver is the best part.  It is almost like jerky.  With Tangawizi, our meal is complete.  I think next time we go to the market I will follow in Peter's footsteps and eat the marrow.  Overall, I feel very much like less of a tourist now. I mean I am totally aware of the fact of my foreignness and I know that when I come home I won't really be able to answer the question, "what is TZ like?" because i have such an obscure view of it.  But I feel like a friend now.  Very welcomed and honored to be an mzungu.

Kitabu cha pili!!!

We have reached the second book in our Kiswahili course! Pretty good.  Unfortunately, we did move a little quickly through the last 5 lessons and suffered a little test score wise but it is ok.  Today we asked Moreto, our teacher, if we could slow down.  Now that we are through the first book there is no need to hurry at all.  We spent a lot more time in conversation during out lessons today which was really good. Language is so much easier to learn when it is being applied.  I have been talking a lot with Moreto, Eliude and Elibariki in the past few days.  Right now the conversations are mostly surface level but they are slowly growing in content.  Elibariki and I speak a lot during morning tea.  The conversation always comes back around to culture.  The theme seems to be that many things "are not the culture in Tanzania, but are becoming the culture."  He and I discuss music and clothing and relationships and this seems to always be the answer.  Tradition is changing so quickly as globalization touches down in the cultural scene.  

There are many things that I would have brought along if I knew they would be so useful.  I have spent much time discussing this with the other students.  One object that is frequently mentioned is a tape recorder. This was especially true a couple of mornings ago when I sat down to breakfast with Pr. Hafermann.  I swear that man spits gold.  Every conversation is filled with unbelievable insight but I can't remember half of what he says.  Normally it is about conflict in the area.  I think I am going to interview him and record it on my laptop soon.  

We are beginning to really get to know the European students here.  This past week we were teh only short course students along with the Danes.  They are pretty great.  It is refreshing to speak to them and have them so frequently thank us for not being the picture of the United States that they are often shown.  I guess it is because the four of us realize that "reality leans to the left."  Today, two Swiss students began class.  Some of you will be glad to know that we played HODI with them and Roohid tonight!! Oh and next week sometime there is a Diwali celebration at the Hindu temple and a couple of us will be accompanying Roohid and Mamka to the festival.  I am very excited about this.  

There were no great revelations yet this week that I want to share with YOU people. Ha.  Labda kesho.  Sijui.   Oh. Aaron, Eliude says "hi."  

Things I am learning and learning about:

Patience. The importance of healthy communication. My vocational direction. What it means to be a Christian. What discomfort feels like. What poverty looks like. What it means to be vulnerable. What it means to be silent. What it means to be humble (not by choice). What it means to love my country and hate injustice. Love in the face of pain. Unity. community. Hospitality. Going beyond tolerance. Seeing Jesus in everyone. Relationships with people/animals/earth. What being sick is like. Knowing the holiness of everyone and everything. What it means to waste time. What it means to miss people. What it means to love your context. The centrality of place. What it means to exist with and for people. What honoring my own humanity feels like. How to mumble in Swahili.

A normal day.

So, I realized recently that I often write that a day was "normal."  Life here became "normal" very quickly.  This speedy arrival at normalcy must have come from my experience with new contexts.  My family has, as of this week, lived in 14 different places since my birth.  Thanks to this semi nomadic lifestyle, I adapt fairly easily to change.  Thus, writing about "normal" life here has simply slipped my mind, as interested as I know some of you may be in this routine.  I realize that each day is rich with cultural lessons but they are easy now to miss as they are just a part of everyday life.  Anyway, I think it would be helpful to describe what a normal day is like in this new context.  

The day begins with my rotten alarm going off at 6:10.  Which is ten minutes after I have stepped out of bed and pulled up my mosquito net.  The mosquitos actually haven't been that bad.  I don't use bug spray and have been bitten only once.  Though, I may just be impervious, or have nasty blood as many have contracted malaria since the beginning of our studies and Sara often has red marks from mosquito kisses running like track marks up her arms and legs.  Who knows.  So I wake up.  Most days, after a fair amount of sleep Steve and I get a run in and we head to breakfast sweaty, completely covered in finely carved muscles.  David-esque in our boyish beauty.  In any other context I absolutely detest running but here it is different.  The air tastes, smells and feels different.  Lighter.  As we fun to the train tracks and back the Uluguru stands tall and strong against the horizon, covered in the mist of morning and the haze of height.  The high road leads us to the tracks and the low road, closer to the mountains guides us back past houses, countless chickens, baying donkeys, waking cows, tireless workers and the aroma of millions of yellow and pick flowers.  

At breakfast there is always Uji (a runny brown maize based porridge) and yogurt (milk boiled and then cooled.)  It is really amazing with some granola.  We can also expect fruit, chai, and either pancakes, eggs, or french toast.  We leave breakfast with a little time to study or read and at 7:45ish devotions start.  These are led by teachers and students.  Steve, Peter and I have all had the opportunity to do this.  It starts with a song.  The music is very classic Lutheran.  Most are songs written by Germans or English speaking folk and translated into Kiswahili.  Then comes the word and a short reflection followed by another song.  Jina lako litukuzwe.  Class then begins in our small groups.  We read the lesson book together and then do practice.  The class breaks at 10 for chai and resumes around 10:30 only to end again at 12 for chakula cha mchana.  The noon meal is traditionally the largest meal of the day. We always have rice and then everything changes.  There is a 2.5 hour break in the middle of the day. I use this time to eat, take a short nap and study Kiswahili.  Classes then last from 2:30 until 4 at which time we have community around chai yet again.  The day is full of people.  We are constantly in conversation about culture and politics and language.  It is a very good environment.  4:30 to 6 is fart around and study time. 6-6:30 is chakula cha jioni.  Outside of the campus this smaller meal normally occurs after 9 sometime.  For us, it is bigger.  The food is alway amazing.  Wali na nyama can be well expected.  On some occasions we are treated to local or international favorites.  Kwa mfano, tonight we had mac and cheese.  Way good.  After supper I study until my face melts.  I do always make a little time for reflection, especially since I read Breuggy's mandate to difference a couple weeks ago.  I try to do some homework in the common room where I can practice speaking with the teachers and secondary school students.  So, um...that's it.  Way interesting I am sure, mom.  Kuna swali?   

Visiting the Masai villages is most definitely my favorite part of the semester thus far.  There is nothing as fascinating or welcoming as these places.  It is incredible to see the intersection of tradition and modernization manifested so obviously.  The people still deal in cattle which is the center of each tribe.  They still live in the traditional huts and have some of the same rituals.  They are traditionally and still very welcoming and care very deeply for the people around them. This may be why so many have been so open to Christianity which is rarely forced upon them, except when the pentecostals come around.  Classic dress is worn and there is still pride in the marks of a Masai.  The lyrics to music may change with the religion but the tunes stay the same.  They may worship a different God but the same vigorous joy and emphasis on blessing is still overtly present.  Yet, worship services in the dirt floored church houses are interrupted by cell phone calls.  Modern pumps, wells, generators and water tanks are scattered throughout the villages.  Motorcycles are always parked outside the church building.  And everyone is ready to talk about Obama.  Like everyone else, these people are thirsty for newness as is evidenced in the careful additions of modern technology and thought.  

Yesterday we spent another Sunday at one of these villages with Luka and Moreto.  We were once again honored as special guests, given much food and even an extensive tour this time.  Moreto's uncle, Elias, is an evangelist in this village and was so happy to show us around.  I got to know him pretty well yesterday as I practiced a lot of Swahili with him.  It was the first time that we had time to enter the huts and see women working on jewelry.  We played with spears and really got to know people.  The four of us ended the tour by sitting in a shaded area with a bunch of the village men.  This opportunity has not been bestowed upon us before as they are often off with the animals.  We talked extensively about Obama and life in the States.  They spent a good amount of time asking Moreto for Sara's hand in marriage and were so happy to receive Obama stickers for their bikes.  Following this, we headed in for worship during which there were 16 baptisms.  It had been a while since a Pastor had been there and there were many who needed the sacrament.  The quiet joy that goes with this many people entering into the family and experiencing the cleansing waters is indescribable.  There is a firm desire for something more than this life can offer in this village.  Yet, even with all of this fun and joy, this trip was clearly different.  There was a certain tinge of desperation in this village.  

The area is very very dry currently, and the situation is not improving.  The animals have little to eat so the people must travel very far everyday to care for the sacred creatures.  During the worship service, which was a short 2.5 hours, we noticed first that many people were present and second that many of the women and children were exceedingly thin.  So many people were there because the village has undergone some hard times and they are desperate for some nurturing which many find in the Church.  The answer to the second observation was very heartbreaking.  There was this man with many wives who took care of many women and children, both his own and those of relatives who died.  He was a wealthy man and took very care of his people.  Then he contracted cancer and passed away.  Since he was the benefactor for so many people, they were left with nothing.  This society is explicitly patriarchal.  As much as I love the Masai, this is rather troubling.  The negativity of this style of life has manifested itself intensely here.  Women are not to own anything in this culture.  As that is so, they are completely reliant on the patriarch.  Since this village's primary patriarch passed, extreme poverty has taken over.  None of his people owned anything so once he died they were left with nothing.  This is one of the major differences that I have noticed between our culture and the culture here.  The recognition of reliance on the earth, animals and people is far more visible here.  The last example is negative, but I find that it is normally a very positive community building relationship.  Where there is no water or when the Earth is unhealthy, there is no life.  Where there is no people, there is no life.  Where the animals are suffering, there is no life.  This is equally true in the US, but we shroud it in the myth of independence.  We all need each other so much.  Even though I have always spoken about how I want to be interdependent, I am still a product of my age and place.  As a soon graduating college student, I am urged to follow this American dream of independence.  It is time to leave the nest.  I get this image of a bunch of graduating senior tossing off their caps and picking up cowboy hats to find their way as mavericks in the wild west.  Alone, and tough.  Being here has made me see that I may talk a lot about community but I have done little to actually push off the myth of independence and live in the truth of interdependence. It is painfully clear now that I truly need other people.  I am challenged to go back with a renewed understanding of the centrality of community.