Things we appreciate about living in Musoma

Sometimes it's easy to notice all the things that are irritating about living here, so yesterday we took a little time to list things we really appreciate and enjoy about living in Musoma. This isn't a complete list; we just rattled off things off the tops of our heads and I'm sure we missed some, but here's what we came up with yesterday:

- Fruit! We really like having fresh and flavorful mangoes, passion fruit, guavas, bananas, pineapple, and watermelon.

- Mama Peter's shop! Mama Peter is a very kind and friendly woman who owns the shop where we buy our non-produce items. She makes shopping fun.

- The market! We like wandering through the stalls and choosing our produce from our favorite vendors.

- Music! While we don't always appreciate the music itself (although sometimes it's great), we like how music is a big part of people's lives here.

- No need to be PC! You can stroll up to a stranger and ask them what religion they are, how old they are, etc., and it's totally fine. People call us "white person" and people in wheelchairs are called cripples. While occasionally it makes us wince with surprise, it's nice to just be able to talk without watching every word to be sure nobody will be offended.

- Not being judged on looks! Tanzanians appreciate skinny people, fat people, short people, tall people, all sorts of people. If your clothes don't match exactly or fit perfectly, it's okay. If the water is out and you didn't get a shower that morning and your hair is a little greasy, no worries. Tanzanians seem to care a lot more about your behavior and personality than your body and appearance.

- Househelp! Wealthy Tanzanians hire househelp, and it's expected for foreigners to do so, too. Poor Tanzanians take in orphaned relatives to be their workers in exchange for giving them a home. It's simply how life works here; keeping a house is a lot of work and people are expected to care for those less fortunate than themselves. So we have Rose as our househelp. She's a Christian widow with three children and has worked for me for 3.5 years. We are very grateful for her help two days a week!

- Animals! It's pretty cool when you take a road trip and see zebra, wildebeest, giraffes, and antelope out the car windows.

- Visitor introduction time at church! Every church always has a time for visitors to stand up and give their names, where they are from, etc. It's terribly convenient and a nice way to get to know guests/introduce yourself when you are a guest.

- Hospitality! In general, Tanzanians are happy to have guests and want to make sure they feel welcome. It's a very important cultural value that seems to match up well with how the Bible tells us to live, practicing hospitality. It makes Tanzania a warm and friendly place for foreigners.

- Sunshine! Occasionally we long for a cool and rainy day, but for two people from the soggy northwest, it's still overwhelming to realize that we're guaranteed to have a sunny day every day (with very few exceptions).

Christmas 2010

Christmas fell on a Saturday this year, and at the end of the day we said, "It was a really nice, special sort of Saturday, but it didn't really feel like Christmas."

We got up early, which was fun because we opened our presents when it was still dark outside, which made the lights on our tree much prettier. Unfortunately, the electricity went off about halfway through, so we finished by the light of a candle and the rising sun. It came back on after 30 minutes or so, so it wasn't out all day or anything.

For gifts, we had received a box from my parents, a package from Andrew's mom, and a wee little package from one of his sisters. His dad sent his gifts via Internet (gift cards). Also, for our gift to ourselves, we experimented with ordering books off Amazon and having them shipped to us here in Musoma, and were very pleasantly surprised that they all arrived quite quickly!

For Andrew, it was strange to not have very many people/kids around. Two of his sisters each have a little troop of kids, and so for him, Christmas with no nieces or nephews around felt a little too quiet. For me, I grew up with Christmas being just our immediate family, so I was the youngest and there were definitely no kids around, so Christmas wasn't too odd with it being just two adults, although I really missed my parents and Christmas Eve service at home church.

It was also strange to not give any gifts this year. Andrew especially missed the challenge of shopping and finding just the right thing and eagerly awaiting seeing the receipient open it. I was relieved to not have to stress about finding stuff to buy and all, but it was kind of sad, too, that we didn't have any presents for each other.

One thing that went really well, however, was the food! For breakfast we had some amazing cinnamon rolls, and for Christmas dinner we had BBQ pork with garlic mashed potatoes and pan-fried zucchini. Carrot cake finished our meal.

So, to liven things up we went for a Christmas walk. We borrowed our friends' dog, Ellie, and headed out on a trail that runs along the border of the local military base and a plethora of small cassava farms. It was really fun to be out in the fresh air and outdoors together. We don't go outside very often, so it was nice to be out and about! It was so quiet, too. Two lots away from our house there was a wild and noisy party with really, REALLY loud music going on all afternoon and well into the night, but when we were on our walk, we were far away from there and it was peaceful and quiet. There are huge rock formations in NW Tanzania, and Andrew got some pictures of the landscape. It's always nice to see Lake Victoria in the distance and giant rocks scattered around.

To close out our day, we talked with our families via Skype, which was really nice to be able to do. I don't know what missionaries way back when did, but we sure appreciate the Internet!

Roadwork

Sometimes leaving the house is a challenge. Sometimes getting home is a challenge. No matter which direction we're attempting to go, these days we're never sure if we'll be able to get there and back!

They've been doing some serious roadwork on one kilometer of our dirt road for months now. We live at about the .9 km mark, so we're at the very end of the part that we hope someday might be paved. They've completely blocked it on one side with a backhoe parked across the road, and have put dirt piles and stacked thorn branches in such a way that there is no way a car could get past. Motorcycles believe in "where there's a will, there's a way" and will manage to get past anything, but we're stuck on that side. So, that leaves only one way out for us.

Unfortunately, sometimes they dig ditches across the road or dump huge piles of dirt in the middle of it and don't give us any advance warning. We try and figure out off-road paths that we can take to get around the ditches and piles, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. Again, in order to prevent cars from attempting such maneuvers, sometimes they'll put up tapes or lay down thorn branches. When they had the tape there once, we looked at it and thought, "It's not strung that tightly..." and so I hopped out and held it up as high as I could, and Andrew drove underneath it. We've learned a few things about fighting your way through from the motorcycles, I guess!

Yesterday evening we arrived at our house to discover they'd dug a ditch right in front of our driveway. Since it might be about a week or so before they actually lay pipe in the ditch and cover it up again, Andrew laid some rocks and dug up some dirt to give us a way out. Now we'll just have to be really careful to follow our tracks every time in and out!

Church

Yesterday we added to the growing list of churches we've been to in the Musoma area:
Pentecostal Assembly of God
Mennonite (2 different ones)
Moravian
Pentecostal Evangelical Fellowship of Africa
Seventh Day Adventist
Africa Inland Church of Tanzania
Free Pentecostal Church of Tanzania
Anglican Church of Tanzania

This list will continue to grow as we visit other churches. Most churches are surprisingly grateful for a visit, and it's a wonderful opportunity to share about the Bible translation work we're doing in the area. We are also continually reminded of the importance of unity in the church. Our work activities, which are focused on the Bible rather than a particular denomination, seem to promote the concept and fact that there is only ONE body of Christ and we are all a part of that same body (check out I Corinthians 12).

We've mentioned before that church services in Tanzania are always an interesting adventure; one that is rarely, if ever, brief. Some of the questions we might ask ourselves in the morning before heading off to church are:
Will it be less than three hours this week?
Will they have a sound system? (I hope not.)
Will it be working? (I hope not.)
During introductions, how should I introduce myself?
How hot will it be?
Will we have to sit in the front again?
Will anyone give chickens or produce in the offering to be auctioned off at the end of the service?
What is the appropriate amount to put in the offering?
Will the choir do most of the singing, or will we get to sing too?
Should I put on my dancing shoes or should I load up on caffeine beforehand?

The two things that never seem to vary between churches are: 1) filing out of the church at the end of the service and shaking everyone's hand, and 2) ANNOUNCEMENTS. It wouldn't be a true Tanzanian church service without announcement time. Announcements are very important and can sometimes take 45 minutes.

"Bwana ni mwema" ("The Lord is good")
Andrew

Pork

Today Andrew went to the butcher shop down the street and bought four kilos of pork. As always, these shopping trips are full of the unexpected. After a wait and some phone calls, some pig pieces arrived in the trunk of a car. He carried it home in a plastic bag and whacked it into pieces in our kitchen. Sometimes we really miss going to grocery stores and buying meat in tidy packages! However, when it comes time to pay, we can't help but feel that we're getting a nice deal at a bit under $2.00 a pound.

Christmas tree

Thanks to some co-workers who recently left Musoma to spend a year in their home country, we are able to borrow a (fake) Christmas tree. We both really love the whole Christmas season and so having a tree is pretty exciting. Over the years, I have managed to bring six strands of lights out to Tanzania with me, so we have plenty of lights for our tree, as well as lights to go all the way around our living room and dining room (see the strand heading up the wall behind the tree). They run on 110 volts, so we had to buy a transformer to change the electricity here (220 volts) so it won't fry the lights (see the box next to the tree). With some Christmas music in the background and our wee tree, we feel like we're all ready for Dec. 25 to come! Thanks to care packages from our parents and thanks to Amazon for shipping around the world, we have now added quite a few gifts under our tree, too. Despite all these fun festivities, we're also determined to focus on Christ, and remember that it is his sacrifice and humility we are celebrating.

We're Visa

There are not insurance companies in Tanzania (other than auto insurance for those wealthy enough to have vehicles), but there is plenty of insurance going around. People build up credit with friends, loan to other friends, and make sure they have a wide, deep network of giving and receiving money and other help. If they have a problem, they can call in some loans, and they are okay with giving out some loans, because it extends their credit network.

Also, underlying this infrastructure, is the idea that those who have more wealth are to take care of those with less. For example, a good Tanzanian friend here once had a job, a real job as a clerk in a store, but refused to receive a salary, because he knew he'd live better as a dependent of benefactors than he would on his own salary. He said that as soon as people heard he had a salary, they'd come to him, expecting him to be a benefactor and he'd be obligated to help them. So he went to work every day, knowing it was good experience that would enable him to have a better job someday, but never took home a paycheck!

So, in this culture of the "wealthy" helping the poor, coupled with everyone living off of loans and most folks being in debt, you can imagine how we fit in. People look at us like we're unfriendly if we don't participate in the general system of friends helping friends, and since we're wealthy in their eyes, when we don't help those less fortunate, we appear selfish and greedy. We're asked for financial gifts and loans constantly. It's one of the greatest stresses of being here. I thought the most difficult thing for me would be the heat, the food, or the language, but instead it is definitely the mixture of friendship and money.

I have no problem refusing a total stranger who asks me for money; that's easy. But when it's a translator I supervise and consider a friend, our neighbors, or a Christian stranger who is clearly in dire need, it's much more difficult to know what to do. What do you say when someone whom you know well asks you for a loan/gift to pay for their child's school fees? If I say "no", there is a good chance that child will not go to school. But if I say "yes", I'm continuing this pattern of living beyond one's means and putting them in debt.

A friend here recenly said "I'm Visa". As odd as it sounds, I realized that we're Visa, too.

By saying we're Visa, I mean that we help people when they have been caught by an unexpected expense, and just can't pay for it all at this moment. Our system for deciding whom to help usually has to do with deciding if it's really something they couldn't have planned for in advance. If I feel like someone should have found a way to save for something they knew was coming up, and then at the last minute they ask for a loan/gift instead, that's not a good time to put something on a credit card. But if their son was sick and the money they'd saved for rent had to go to pay his medical bill, then that's when they really need some help. That's when we become Visa to people in a country where Visa is not everywhere you want to be. There is no insurance and no credit cards here, but there are friends.

-Misha

Fuzzy Felines

Clive and Betsy, our wee leopards. Andrew was working from home one day and they hung out on the chair in his office. Even he couldn't resist taking a picture!

Reviewers Workshop

We recently had a workshop for training church leaders to be reviewers for the Ikizu, Zanaki, and Kabwa translations. My favorite part of the workshop was seeing the translators teaching things that I (and others) have worked hard to teach them!


Kitaboka, an Ikizu translator, teaching the group about "Two Kinds of Translation" - literal word-for-word and meaning-based. She was SO nervous before her lesson slot, but did really well. She had quite the smile of relief afterwards; she was delighted that it went well, and that she was done.


Enjoying a laugh with some of the participants and Patrick, our Dutch translation consultant.


An Ikizu man whom I first met in early 2007. He was one of the people at the very first Ikizu alphabet-development workshop who helped create the writing system for the Ikizu language. I think he was really pleased to see it in use.


Shem, a Zanaki translator (see previous posts about the wedding we were in - he was the groom), teaching. He was the MC for the workshop and did a very good job. Some people are just naturally talented at being up front and in charge!

In the first and last pictures, you can see some typical Tanzanian church decor. Since we barely have room for ourselves at our office, much less 20 additional people, we held the workshop at a nearby church. The swaths of fabric at the front of the church are a very common way to spruce up churches in these parts.

King of the Basket

There is a certain large basket in our living room that is apparently a really amazing place to take a nap, if you're a cat. Betsy is often there, snoozing away. Clive, who is more of a migratory sleeper, going from place to place around the house in a succession of naps, usually ends up there at some point on his rounds.

It doesn't bother him at all if she's already on it. In fact, he enjoys finding her up there and then jumping up and lying down on top of her. Since he's considerably larger than she is, she scoots to the edge of the basket so she can breathe without his bulk squishing her. Often she then gives him a bath (the lazy bum does lick himself sporadically, but Betsy cleans him from nose to tail tip pretty regularly). Meanwhile, he slowly pushes himself closer to her on the basket and takes the whole thing over. Before she knows it, she's gone from having a nice nap in her favorite place to having about 4 inches of space left on the very edge, and has given him a bath in the bargain.

This picture was taken at the beginning of the process. As you can see, he's already looking sleepy and comfortable, ready for his bath and nap.

Uji

Most Tanzanian foods are fine - not my favorite dishes, but not horrid, either. There are a few that I'd put in the "I hope I am never served that again" category, and there are a few I quite like. But one particular dish is on my all-time beloved meals list - uji wa ulezi (millet porridge).

Andrew thinks it looks like poop and tastes gross, and most other wazungu (white people/foreigners) agree with him. But I think it's fabulous and I love making it a few mornings each week. As an added bonus, it's incredibly healthy. The flour is a mixture of ground millet, peanuts, and soy, so it's really high in protein. Locally, it's considered food for elderly people, children, and sick people, since you don't have to chew anything. Also, I think it's popular for students at boarding schools for breakfast, since it's cheap and healthy and easy to make. But, despite all these wonderful things, most non-Tanzanians think it's disgusting.

To make it, you start by heating water, salt, sugar, and milk powder. Then you add uji flour by spoonfuls and whisk away. When it starts to boil, it gets nice and thick. Delicious! Come on over for Saturday morning breakfast one day and I'll make some for you. If you think it's revolting mush, then you can have toast with Andrew.

Life in Tanzania

Life sometimes gets a little slippery in Tanzania. This poor guy was caught on camera by Andre, our Dutch colleague, as he was on a trip to a village. It is very common to see bikes carrying large loads of various items. Charcoal like this is a typical load. Tanzanians use it for little outdoor cooking stoves.

Going to church

Growing up, both Andrew and I went to church multiple times a week. The church building was a second home of sorts, and we spent a lot of time there. On Sunday mornings, never was there a week where we were anywhere else. Well, I remember ONCE when we were on vacation, we didn't actually go to church, but we still sang and Dad gave us a message from the Word, and since he's a pastor, it was pretty close to the real deal, minus lots of people. But the rest of the time, vacation or not, we went.

In college I think I missed a couple times because of having too much homework and a swim meet that took up all day Friday and Saturday. But I still went to the evening chapel service every Sunday night without fail for four years. During my grad school days, I continued in my faithful attendance, because, what on earth would one do on a Sunday morning other than go to church?!

And then I became a missionary...

Before coming to Tanzania, I envisioned myself joining a local congregation and taking part in church every week alongside Tanzanians and enjoying spiritual fellowship with local friends and neighbors. It was a nice picture, but reality met up with me at language school.

Upon arrival in Tanzania, I came to face with the fact that Tanzanian church services are in Swahili, and I didn't know Swahili. That was a pretty good deterrent for a while. Considering a screaming pastor using a bad PA system makes even one's mother tongue pretty unintelligible, sometimes it's still an effective deterrent.

So although my church attendance while in language school was sporadic, I attempted to go every other week or so. But since Sunday was the only day when a ride into town was guaranteed, I admit sometimes I used the lift to go to the Internet cafe and send/receive e-mail... And then I came to Musoma, sure that things would change when I was settled into one place and could speak the language.

The message I heard growing up wasn't that you were supposed to go to church just for the sake of going, but that you are to go serve others, fellowship, and get solid Bible teaching. So what do you do when you can't find a local church that has all of those things? Staying home listening to a sermon from home on a Sunday morning seems like a pretty valid option sometimes.

During my first term here, I finally just made a rule for myself (living by the law, I know): go to church twice a month, no matter what. In every given month there would be something happening on a weekend that prevented attendance, a week when I'd simply be too worn out to go, and two weeks when it worked out to go, and I made myself do it. I visited a lot of different churches (Musoma has over 30 denominations, most with more than one congregation), and habituated two of them a bit more frequently.

During my second term, Andrew and I have lived by grace and not the law and just go when it makes sense to go, and stay home/do something else when that makes more sense, and it ends up being about the same percentage. We have come up with a list of things that one must consider when thinking about going to a church:
-Length of service. There is a big difference between a two-hour service and a four-hour service.
-Attention. In some churches they don't pay much attention to white visitors, and in some they make a big (i.e. annoying) deal out of it.
-Sound system. No sound system is best, and one at low volume is second best. However, most churches ascribe to "the louder, the better".
-Music. We like churches which have congregational singing. Some have only the choir sing, not everyone.
-Use of the Bible. Using the Bible at all is a good thing, using it correctly/in context is a great bonus.
-Temperature of the building. Some places tend to trap heat, some have a nice breeze.
-Dance teams. It can be fun to visit a church with a good choir/dance team that really gets going while singing.
-Parking. Is there a place for our truck? Do kids at the church tend to draw with dirt all over it while it's parked there?
-Seating plan. Some churches have all the women and kids on one side and all the men on the other (guess which side fills up more...). I didn't care when I was single, but now it's an issue, since we like to sit together.
-Number of offerings. One is enough.

And the final one, which is often considered the most important...
-Type of seating. Wooden bench with uneven legs or a plastic chair? A two-hour service on a bench feels like it's about the same length as a four-hour service with a plastic chair!

"I am like Simeon"

In Uganda, there was a seminar to train Bible study leaders using the newly-published books of Mark and Acts in Bwisi, the local language.

One man told an interesting story after the seminar. He said, “This is the 50th year that I have been attending church, but I have never, ever read any Bible verse in my language. I am like the old man Simeon in the Bible whom the Holy Spirit promised he would not die without seeing Messiah. God has given me a time of grace in this world so that I can hear the Word of God in my own language, the language which I understand. No one can understand the plans of God; people used to say that no one would manage to write the Bible in Bwisi because it is an un-writable language… but here it is!”

Mothers and Daughters

"Then he said to her, 'Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.' " - Luke 8:48 (NIV)

So, did Jesus have a daughter? Of course not! Was she a little girl and he was affectionately calling her daughter? Of course not! This woman had had a problem of bleeding for 18 years; she was at least Jesus' age, and most likely older than he was.

The Jita translators took one look at 'daughter' and got really confused. They KNEW she wasn't a little girl, but just couldn't understand why he called her that. It's totally fine in their culture to call women who aren't your mother "mama", but you'd never call a woman your own age "daughter"! But, apparently in Jesus' culture, it was okay.

So, Luke 8:48 in Jita now has Jesus calling her "mother", a respectful and kind way to talk to her that makes a lot more sense to them.

Mango Crepes

Sometimes it's difficult to find a way to celebrate special events here in Musoma. Our options are limited! Another tricky thing is figuring out how to meet cravings for foods that aren't available here. This morning, I think we were pretty successful at both in one go.

For seven years Andrew has faithfully been paying off his student loans from Oregon State. It's a good thing he loved the school and did really well in his classes, or else he might've started to get a bit bitter about sending money to the U.S. Department of Education every single month for years and years! This morning was the final payment, and it seemed like a great moment for a little celebration.

On a different note, both of us have been missing peaches lately. There's just something so sweety, juicy, and altogether wonderful about peach pie, peach cobbler, fresh peaches with a little sugar on them, and everything peach. I've been wanting to try using mangoes like I'd normally use peaches and see how it went. This morning I gave it a go...

And the result was fabulous! I whipped up some crepes using the exact same recipe my parents used when making birthday breakfasts in past years (back when they ate 'evil' foods like milk and eggs...), and they were perfect. Then I sliced two mangoes and cut them into small pieces. With a little water, cinnamon, nutmeg, sugar, salt, and cornstarch added to them and boiled for a while, voila! We had perfect "peach" crepe filling right here in Musoma.

Since I grew up associating crepes with birthday breakfast celebrations and Andrew only remembers having had crepes once in his life, they were quite celebratory and we enjoyed making this morning special to mark the end of payments to the US Dept of Education and we got a fruity treat at the same time. Hurray for a Saturday morning!

Hymn Sing

Beginning in January 2007, I have spent just about every single Sunday evening (unless I'm not in Musoma!) on this back porch singing hymns. The porch belongs to Dusty and Kim Hill, and they have two great kids, Tessa and Jack. Since there is no English church around here to attend, we enjoy having some worship time in our mother tongue every week. The Hills have a stack of hymnals and everyone who comes gets to choose one or two they want to sing. I've learned a lot of new hymns since coming to Musoma!

Hymn sing attendance changes a bit as missionaries come and go, but there is always a little group gathered here on Sunday evenings. The Hills were in the States for a year and it still continued every week - their housesitter was in charge of being home every week and hosting it in their absence! It wasn't part of the housesitting job, of course, but he wanted to do it.

Andrew likes to sing, so we drive the 10 minutes out each week and really enjoy the fellowship. I'm the one in the group who isn't all that skilled at staying in tune, but fortunately they still let me come and take part. Each week we're encouraged to carry on in the strength of another week, bolstered by songs such as "Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah", "Come Thou Fount", "How Firm a Foundation", and "There is Power in the Blood".

Wedding: Part III

Originally, I had thought that Wedding: Part III would be about the rehearsal scheduled for Thursday the 14th. However, Shem (the groom)'s uncle died Wednesday late afternoon and so he and Sara had to pack up and head out to his family's home village for the funeral, and the rehearsal was cancelled. On one hand, we were grateful to not have to go to it, but on the other hand, it made things a bit more spontaneous and less polished on the day of the wedding!

I will post pictures tomorrow - we didn't have our camera with us, so I need to get some pictures from others to put here.

Saturday morning Shem brought Andrew's suit and my skirt and top to our house, since because of the funeral he hadn't had a chance to deliver them before then. Fortunately, they fit! Since we had no time to make any adjustments, this was a very good thing. Well, Andrew's suit trousers are rather wide in the thigh, but this was to be expected, since that's just how Tanzanian men wear their clothes. Also, the jacket isn't at all fitted - it's cut straight down from the shoulders to the hips. Maybe the tailor was allowing for him to grow a big paunch out front someday.

My outfit was surprisingly great - I'm guessing I'll wear it again when I have to get dressed up around here sometime. It was quite comfortable (albeit a bit warm inside) and I'm very pleased at how it turned out.

Since we were in the wedding party, we made sure we showed up right on time at 9:30. Well, true to Tanzanian stye, we were the very first ones there. People started trickling in and the pastor showed up, and then at 11:30 the wedding began. Even though I've lived here for years and know things get going later than the proclaimed starting time, I still haven't quite adjusted. Church, school, work - these are areas of life when people are right on time. Social gatherings, weddings, funerals - these start later than announced.

Anyway, apparently it is supposed to be the "besty" - the term used for best man/matron of honor - who puts the veil on the bride, but I wasn't quite sure how the comb was supposed to work in the bride's hair, which was piled enormously high on her head in an elaborate work of fake-hair-art. Rukia, one of the Ikizu translators who was there attending the wedding, saved the day. Right before the wedding, the bride, me, and the woman who was holding the bride's train out of the dirt (she's Futakamba's wife), and Rukia trotted out to "hide" behind some of the cars. Speaking in rapid Ikizu the entire time, which the bride understood and which is Futakamba's wife's mother tongue, Rukia put on the veil, asked my opinion, gave me fake flowers to put in the bride's hair, and told me what to do later in the wedding if the veil got messed up. Fortunately, the bride was speaking Swahili (she understands Ikizu, but doesn't speak it) and I was able to understand enough Ikizu to follow along a bit. I think Rukia just forgets that I don't speak Ikizu, and she thinks I ought to learn, so Ikizu it was. Anyway, language issues aside, I was grateful for her help.

Since we missed the rehearsal, we had to wing it going down the aisle. Instead of going in one at a time as we'd discussed, the bride and I walked in together. Shem and Andrew came halfway down the aisle from the front of the church, and she and I came from the back and covered the other half. He lifted her veil (which I smoothed into place), and we all walked to the front together.

Now, when I say walking, I don't mean actually walking! Weddings are all about walking super, incredibly, excessively slowly. You put out one foot, kind of tap it, shift your weight back and forth, and then take a step. And mind you, that step should only be about as half as long as your foot.

Andrew and I sat facing each other in green plastic chairs covered with white cloths during most of the wedding. The bride was next to me and the groom was next to him. It was hard to not talk to him during it! There were two choirs, one behind me and one behind him, and they each sang several times at the beginning. There was a sermon for about 30 minutes, vows (we stood for that part), an oath they read, and signing of the certificate. No kiss. The only time they touched was to put on each others' rings, and then they only touched the ring finger itself. Considering that this couple already has four children and have been together for 18 years, that seemed a little funny to me, but hey, who needs PDA at a wedding, anyway?

After it was pretty much all done, everyone in the audience paraded forward to shake all of our hands, which was the first of many shakings of the day. There was an offering taken, and since I was sitting behind the basket, I could see who actually put money in and who just faked holding money and pretended to drop it in the basket, which was kind of interesting. A little advice: if you need to fake giving money at some point, lower your hand all the way to the bottom of the basket before opening your fingers, because then it's harder for others to tell if you are really giving or not.

We then recessed (very slowly), led by the same group of dancing girls who danced in front of us when we entered (I forgot to mention that detail). Everyone shook all of our hands as they left the church for shaking #2.

Although the reception was being held just a minute's drive from the church, we drove really slowly through town in a parade of five vehicles, honking all the way and going incredibly slowly. Since we live on a busy road, we sometimes see these processions go by in front of our house, and most don't have five vehicles! I guess Shem thought it was pretty fun to have missionary friends, since we all have vehicles and could make a parade for his wedding.

Upon arriving at the reception, the sound system they'd brought over from the church wasn't set up yet, so we just hung out in the car for about 20 minutes, which was incredibly hot. Once they were ready, we paraded in (slowly) with the girls dancing ahead of us again. The first item on the agenda was cutting the cake. Shem and Sara fed each other a piece, and then Andrew and I fed each other, and then Sara fed me one and Shem fed Andrew one. I think Andrew thought that was a little weird to be fed cake by a guy, but hey, it's tradition! Then one of the cakes was given to the bride's family (we paraded it over) and one to the groom's family (also paraded), and the remaining one (about 9"x9" in size) was cut into tiny bits and the guests were given some on toothpicks.

Next came "cheers". Somehow that English word ended up in Swahili, and what it means is that everyone at the reception comes forward and clinks soda bottles with the wedding party. Meanwhile, we're all dying of thirst! We got thirsty about the time the wedding began, and now it's about three hours later. It was absolute torture to hold this glass full of soda and clink it with everyone's bottle and not be allowed to drink any! All I could think about was ingesting fluids.

Finally, we went to the head table and sat down. All four of us downed an entire bottle of soda each within minutes, so I guess they were pretty thirsty, too. In the course of two hours, we all drank a lot of water and soda - 3 bottles each!

There was a gift parade (and hand shaking), some songs from the choirs, a couple short speeches, including one in which a man said, "The best advice I have to give you is the typical marriage advice. You all know that, right?" There was a murmur of consent in the room and several people said the same phrase. Then he said it, "The man should love the woman, and the woman should obey him." Apparently this is the standard marriage line of relationship advice in Christian culture in Tanzania. It made me think of how many couples in the west take the word "obey" out of wedding vows, and here it's just how life is. Oh, that reminds me of something the pastor said during the sermon - that if the wife wants to be a good wife, she needs to take care of her husband. His examples for taking care of him were things like putting the toothpaste on his toothbrush in the morning and getting up early to make him breakfast before he leaves, or else he'll be justified in going over to the neighbor's house to see if a woman there will take care of him instead. The point was the wives need to be good wives, which is fine with me, but I cringed when he made it sound like if you don't help him brush his teeth, it's not his fault if he goes looking for some other woman. When we first came here after getting married, I was given some advice by Tanzanian women here about how I need to take care of my husband. I guess they were concerned that I might not take such good care of Andrew. For example, it bothered one woman that I make Andrew shower all by himself without helping him. I tried to assure her that he was okay with being left alone to clean up all on his own. Another wanted to make sure that I cleaned the house every day so he wouldn't go look for a harder-working woman who was a better house cleaner. I can't say I clean it every day, and I don't think it bothers him, but explaining this to her was a little tricky.

Anyway, there was music and the guests danced whenever they were supposed to come forward for something, and a couple good emcees, including Eliud (see previous posts about his son Zadok). Give Eliud a mic and an audience and he's in his element! The food was surprisingly nice (roasted potatoes, roasted beef chunks, fried bananas, and samosas), and the whole party moved right along on a nice schedule. We shook heaps of hands - some people up to six times during the course of the party! I enjoyed seeing some of the translators having fun and being more free than I usually see them at the office. The two Ikizu translators loved the whole event and were in very high spirits, which was great. Talk about quiet and businesslike at work, that's those two, but yesterday they were like different people! Rukia and Kitaboka were laughing and dancing all day. Shem's Zanaki co-translator, Futakamba, was working in the back the whole time lugging around soda crates and putting out food and cleaning up. I teased Shem that he'd just been waiting for a day when he could be the king at the front of the room and make Futakamba his servant for the day. He thought that was hilarious and agreed with me. But joking aside, I was really impressed that Futakamba let his wife and children sit in their nice clothes and enjoy the party while he worked hard.

So, at about 5:20 the party ended and everyone left. We shook some more hands and drove off, totally sweaty and exhausted, but pleased with how the day went. It was actually pretty fun at the reception! Andrew was happy that we hadn't been called on to give any speeches, and I was happy that we not on survived the day, but even enjoyed it.

Wedding: Part II

Today was the send-off for Shem and Sara's wedding, and we didn't really know what to expect. It turns out that send-offs involve lots of waiting, dancing, and money.

To be more specific, here's what we did today:
10:00 - headed out to the village with several passengers, changing some of them along the way as some got off and others got on. Futakamba, Shem's fellow Zanaki translator, and his wife stayed in the truck with us the whole time. It was nice to have some folks we know along for the trip. It was also handy for Andrew during the day to have Futakamba around, since he speaks English fairly well. He was dressed in a gray suit and sunglasses, which cracked us up, because with his freshly-shaved head and pot-belly, he looked like a dictator.

11:15 - we arrived in Kiabakari village and went to Sara (bride)'s parents' house. Her dad is 99 and her mom 85, and both are still quite agile. Her dad danced at one point and her mom was lugging buckets of water around. He has three wives, each of which has 10 kids, so Sara has lots and lots of siblings, many of which were in attendance.

10:16 - immediately upon arrival, Andrew was whisked away to go sit with Shem, Futakamba, and some other men around the corner of one of the houses on the compound. I was whisked away to go sit with Sara, Shem's sister, and Futakamba's wife inside another house.

1:35 - we're still sitting in those exact places. By this point, we've chatted about politics (there is a presidential election at the end of the month, so it's a hot topic), greeted a lot of guests, and watched people cook (Andrew) and watched people dance (Misha). In order to check in with each other, we've texted back and forth, but we haven't been together at all, since the bride and groom aren't supposed to see each other, and we're supposed to stay with them. Considering that they have been "married" for 18 years, this is a little odd to me, but tradition prevails. My highlight of this waiting time was watching the old folks dancing. There was a generator and DJ there with some loud music, but at one point he played some old folks music and those grannies and grandpas got out there and starting going for it!

1:45 - a HUGE downpour starts right as lunch arrives. We women huddle in the dark and eat. The men have already eaten and they go sit in our truck, the driest place around. I guess they end up talking about how condensation forms and Andrew explains the science of it to them. I have a nice conversation with Futakamba's wife and get to know her a bit.

3:30 - the party starts! We parade out in our finery and a ceremony of giving money begins. We have no idea what is happening and just follow along as best as we can. Shem is very insistent that we don't give any money of our own and gives us money of his to put in the basket. This is very impressive, considering it's basically a big fundraising party! People come up in groups - young men, older women, etc. and try and make a big show of giving money, dancing all the while. Sara kneels to receive the gifts given by the older women (see picture).

5:00 - the part is just getting going and apparently will keep going for hours, but Shem tells us it's time for us to leave. We scurry out and drive home with Futakamba and his wife. Shem leaves, too, but Sara stays for the party.

6:30 - Soon after we arrive home, Shem shows up at our house with a bunch of bananas as a thank-you gift for us. Once again, we're rather shocked at his generosity. I love bananas, so this is a great gift.

7:00 - we crash and I write a blog post. :-)

All in all, it was a good day. It was long, but never unpleasant. I feel like I got to know the wives of the translators with whom I work, which I enjoyed. It was a good cultural experience!

Dishwasher

Sometimes when the water has been off for a day or two, our dirty dishes really pile up. But then when the water returns, it's time to scrub! We have two dish drainers and both get filled regularly, but since this one is against the wall, it can become a work of dish balancing art at times. There are days when we really wish we could just load them up in a real dishwasher, but most of the time we're just grateful when the water is running and not too dirty. Also, we're always very grateful when Rose, our 2x/week househelp, comes and creates clean dish art like this! This picture was taken one evening when we returned home from work one evening. She'd been cleaning at our house that day and maybe she was shocked by how many dirty dishes we had stacked up, but we were certainly a bit surprised to find how many clean ones were awaiting our return!

How does your cat sleep?

Well, I don't know how your cat likes to sleep, but one of ours prefers snoozing on his back. This is Clive, who is a bit of a unique character. I think he missed out on the feline instinct that tells him that sleeping with your whole tummy exposed might not be safe. Also, while some cats might rest on their back on a hot day, most don't enjoy being petted on their bellies. Not Mr. Clive! Don't these pictures make you want to reach out and rub those furry spots? Well, he'd love it if you did. He'd flop his legs even more and close his eyes in delight, with nary a thought of seizing the moment to kick or bite you even crossing his wee brain. He's a cutie and really good with kids and strangers, which redeem his other lesser qualities (being noisy, climbing screens, and stealing food top the list). We love him most of the time. Bless his manipulative heart, he loves us all the time.

Wedding: part 1

Well, this looks to be a three-part series, so keep checking here for Wedding: part 2 and Wedding: part 3! I expect to write part 2 sometime next week and part 3 the week after that.

So, here's the scoop: it's pretty common in Tanzania to have a local-style traditional "wedding" but not to fill out the legal government marriage license or have the official church wedding. This is due to money issues - church weddings cost a lot. Anyway, Shem, one of the Zanaki translators with whom I work announced to me a few weeks ago that he's getting married October 16. I just stared at him, not sure what to think! I mean, he's been "married" for eighteen years now, and has four kids!

Then, as if I weren't already processing some cultural info and figuring out what to say, he then asks me if Andrew and I would do them the honor of being their best man/matron of honor in the wedding! So, long story short, we ended up agreeing to be their witnesses/attendants. The way it works here is that the couple getting married asks a married couple (usually an older couple who have been married for a while) to stand up with them, and this couple then has responsibility to mentor and help the newlyweds. However, since this is more of a "blessing the marriage" kind of wedding, they are tossing tradition a bit to the wind and asked us, who have been married for all of one year.

Yesterday (Saturday the 2nd) was the rehearsal. We showed up right at 10:00 as requested. Well, the pastor forgot about it, so didn't come till 11:00. Then he proceeded to give them a pre-marital counseling-type sermon for an hour and a half! He said that usually pre-marital meetings require several days, but since they've already been together for 18 years, they got the short version. I have to say, it was a little funny to be sitting there with them on this wooden bench with a pastor preaching about marriage for 90 minutes! Now, I know this is usual in Tanzania, but experiencing it is different than hearing about it. I just never imagined I'd be sitting in on someone's pre-marital pastoral teaching time.

Then it was time for lunch with the pastor, and I was pleasantly surprised that Shem paid for our lunches, too. It was nice to go out with a Tanzanian and not be asked for money, and, in fact, have them spend money on you. We'll give them a nice wedding gift and they won't be badly off financially for having paid for things for us, but in the meantime it's encouraging to be treated like they would treat Tanzanians.

After lunch we returned to the church for the rehearsal. There will be another rehearsal two days before the wedding at which the choir is present, so we can practice with them, but in the meantime it was just the four of us and the pastor. He took us through the entire wedding service, having them say their vows and everything! I know in the States the pastor skips that part so that they aren't actually married at their rehearsal, but apparently such worries aren't such a big deal here. I definitely needed some practice for the processional, though - you have to take special little steps walking around the church for the procesional. It's put out one foot, tap it, rock back, then step forward, repeat with the next foot. If you think wedding marches you've seen are slow, wait till you see a Tanzanian one when it takes a full two or three minutes to get down the aisle!

After the rehearsal, we went shopping. At first we weren't totally sure what we were shopping for, but figured it out as we went. Andrew got measured for a suit, which a tailor in town is making. Then we went fabric shopping, and the bride and I picked out satin material for our dresses. We'll have two each - one for next Sunday, when we're going to her home village for a party with her family, and another for the wedding itself. I was surprised that they simply asked me what color I wanted! I mean, I expected the bride to have an idea in mind of what she wanted at her own wedding. So, I chose a light green (the choices were limited) for the pre-wedding party outfit, and then the groom and Andrew get shirts to match. Then I went with a cornflower blue for the wedding day. Shem and Andrew will have purple shirts that day, and I think blue and purple will look okay together. If I'd known that I was picking two different fabrics, I'd have reversed them and worn the green for the wedding and the blue for the party, but that's okay. Next we went to the seamstress for her to measure us for our outfits. Once again, Shem paid for everything, much to our surprise. It wasn't cheap, either!

So, at 5:30 we stumbled home exhausted. We couldn't even stay awake for our usual evening routine and crashed at 9:00 sharp under our mosquito net and slept for a long time. Being in a wedding party in Tanzania is a lot more work than being one in the States, we're discovering!

We'll keep you posted and show some pictures once we get our outfits!

Ikizu and Zanaki Translators

This is Willy Futakamaba, a Zanaki translator. Before becoming a Bible translator, he was a pastor in the Anglican church. He's married and has four children of his own and has also raised his sister's two children after she and her husband died. He has studied at the university level in Kenya and South Africa, so he's quite well educated and has traveled outside Tanzania a bit. He's got a great sense of humor and I love it when he laughs so hard he cries and can't talk.

This is Shem Koren, the other Zanaki translator. He's an assistant pastor in the Mennonite church, and was raised on the local Mennonite Bible College campus. Both his parents worked for the college, and he grew up playing with missionary kids, so he's very comfortable around foreigners. Shem is a total extrovert and loves to talk and be with people. Before becoming a translator he was a missionary-church planter working with an unreached people group here in Tanzania. He can sympathize with me having to learn to appreciate strange foods and different living conditions. He's married with four children, and his mother and grandmother also live with him as his dependents. He's looking for a new house nearby his for them, though - he says he can't handle that many women telling him what to do at home!

This is Kitaboka Marara. She's the youngest translator with whom I work at age 26, and she's married and has a little baby girl (see previous blog posts!). Last year she graduated from the local Mennonite Bible College. She's only working part-time because of her baby, but she's a quick worker and gets a lot done in her 5.5 hours each morning. In Tanzanian culture, men have much more authority than women, and older people much more than younger people, so sometimes it's difficult for her to be a young female and still be respected and authoritative. She seems to have found a good balance between being culturally polite and yet standing up for her ideas when necessary. As a side note, I met Kitaboka very soon after coming to Musoma in early 2007. I immediately told a single male Tanzanian I knew that he needed to figure out a way to meet her, because she is young, single, smart, pretty, and godly! Well, what do you know, but that man is now her husband. :-)

This is Rukia Manyori. She's Kitaboka's aunt. Like Kitaboka, she's very tall - both are about 5'10". I think it's great that I work with two very tall women! Rukia is a widow with two teenagers, and she's very comfortable being up front and in charge. She's organized and in control and I can count on her to make things happen. She was born into a Muslim family and married a Muslim man (as his second wife). When he and the first wife both died and she was left alone, still in her twenties and with two toddlers, she quit going to the mosque because she was sick of not being able to understand what they were saying in Arabic. Some women from the local Seventh Day Adventist church started visiting her to comfort and help her. After about ten years of being fairly unreligious, she remembered how kind those Christian women were and which church they were from, so she started going there and became a believer soon after. She loves her language, Ikizu, and is determined that the people of her tribe be able to understand Jesus in their own language.

Money

What do you take on trips? I take money. Lots of different kinds of money, I mean. For our average trip, we use three to five kinds of currency. It's a bit tricky to keep them separate at time, and to remember how much each is worth! This picture is of what we needed for our trips to Uganda.

1. 10,000 Tanzania shillings, worth about $7.00 USD.
2. 10,000 Uganda shillings, worth about $5.00 USD.
3. 1,000 Kenya shillings, worth about $12.50 USD.
4. 10 US dollars, worth about $10.00 USD. ;-)

When crossing borders in East Africa, only US dollars, Euros, or Great Britain pounds are accepted in payment for visas. So, even though our trip definitely did not involve travel through the United States, we needed US dollars to buy our visas in Uganda, and mine in Kenya. Crazy! They say visa is everywhere you want to be, but my personal experience says otherwise - my take on that would be, "US dollars are needed everywhere you want to be."

Pikipiki, bodaboda, motorcycle, whatever it's called!

In Tanzania, it's called a pikipiki. In Uganda, it's called a bodaboda. In the US, I'm pretty sure it's called a motorcycle. But whatever the name, I like to call it terrifying! The only reason I'm smiling in this picture is because we're at the end of the trip and I'm still alive.

Much to my surprise, when I was in Uganda, we had to rely on bodabodas for transportation some of the time. I've been in Tanzania for four years and haven't been on a pikipiki yet, but I went to Uganda for one week and found myself on one FIVE times in just one week!

Here are a few hints for what helped me:
-Reciting the Apostle's Creed is a good distraction from the reality at hand.
-Convincing myself that my driver is an excellent, superb, well-practiced driver at least made me feel better, whether it was true or not.
-Hanging onto the bar on the back gives a sense of security.
-Wearing capris is easier than wearing a skirt (although 4/5 of my trips were in skirts).
-Skinny drivers leave you more room on the seat.
-Dirt roads are better than paved ones, because the thought of falling is less horrifying.
-Slower is generally better than faster, except it makes the trip longer.
-If you look at the scenery and remind yourself that you can appreciate it better on a bodaboda than when in a car, it greatly improves the experience.
-Wearing sunglasses so you don't get bugs in your eyes is highly recommended.
-Remind yourself that at least it'll make a good blog post!

Home Alone

I've had about three weeks on my own here in Musoma while Andrew has been in Uganda, and I have to say, certain patterns emerge. I definitely live differently when he's at home than I do when it's just me here!

For starters, my eating habits are a bit tweaked these days. Sugar bananas, okra, and millet porridge have been appearing fairly frequently on my menu lately. Andrew prefers "regular" (i.e. the kind that gets imported to America) bananas instead of the little sweet ones, and okra and millet porridge do not factor on his list of foods he'd ever eat if on his own. I, on the other hand, have no problem with returning home after a day at the office to eat a nice pot (yes, straight out of the pot) of porridge made out of ground millet, soy, and peanut flour. Mm-mm good. A tortilla filled with stir-fried okra and zucchini and a little banana for dessert is also mm-mm good! Toss in a couple fresh tomatoes for an appetized to eat while waiting for the porridge to cook and call it a feast! (Raw tomatoes also appear on Andrew's list of less-appreciated foods, and rank very, very high on mine.)

My down-time habits have also had a few changes. For instance, I don't read an average of two books a week when Andrew is at home. This stack is not the exact pile I read during this time, since a few of the books aren't here right now and couldn't feature in the picture, but these are all ones I've read in the past couple months.

On top of the stack is the Bible, New Living Translation. I like a variety of translations, but this one has a nice level of natural English discourse and clarity in translation. Second is "Frankenstein", which was a reread I enjoyed during my time in the Ugandan village last week. Just a reminder, folks, Frankenstein is the name of the creator of the monster, not the monster himself. Third is "The Friendship Gap", about making friends cross-culturally. Fourth is "Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith", because Anne Lamott always makes me laugh and want to write a book myself. Fifth is "Mennonite in a Little Black Dress", by my favorite Hope College professor, Rhoda Janzen. Funny, well-written, and one I'll read again. Sixth is "The Help", a must-read for anyone who has househelp! Seventh is "The First Five Years of Marriage", which has the answers to (almost all of) my questions. Finally, this month's edition of National Geographic, my favorite magazine, which my friends here faithfully pass on to me every month after they read it. So if you wonder what I read out here in Musoma, there's a recent sampling! I recommend all of them. :-)

Finally, another change is my daily hours. Even our night guard commented the other day that it seems I go to bed a bit later and get up a bit later when it's just me and Andrew is away... Yeah. Confirmation on that one! Let's just say sometimes I'm a little late for work when Andrew is gone.

Time spent on Skype also goes up with his abscense. Hey, one has to talk to one's parents sometime or other, so why not when home alone?

I'm ready to stop being a widow though. 24 more hours until Andrew gets back to Musoma!

Accidental Evangelism

While I (Michelle) was in Uganda, the Zanaki translators went to several villages to read some chapters aloud and get feedback on them. In one village, they had a different response than usual.

Shem, one of the translators, sat down and started reading a chapter from Luke (I actually don't know which one; it was either 10 or 11). After the first passage he looked up and was surprised to see everyone in the group frowning. He thought, "There must be something wrong with the Zanaki words we've used!"

Worridly, he continued reading. After another section he glanced at his audience again and saw them looking down at the ground and grimacing! Unable to wait, he asked them, "What do you think of this translation? Please, all feedback is helpful, even if it is negative. How is our word choice, our dialect in this?"

“It’s fine, going on reading,” they said, not offering much insight into their facial expressions. He continued with the chapter, and they still had grimaces, to his consternation.

He started asking them questions to see which things in the translation weren’t clear, and they contributed their thoughts and were helpful. However, about half of them said, “Oh, we’re not Christians, we don’t understand religion well, so maybe you don’t want our answers.”

Shem hastily encouraged them to participate, since answers from people who don’t know the Bible are often the most helpful. He assured them that this was not a test of knowledge, but him looking for help with the language. They stayed and listened to the chapters and gave their feedback about the translation.

At the end, he asked again why it was that they looked so serious when he was reading. This time, they answered him. Both the Christians and the non-Christians told him, “Those words of Jesus were convicting us! They burned our hearts as we listened; we know that just like the people in the parables, we need to repent from our sins. How could we smile when we are thinking about our sins and how we are not right with God?”

Calvary Chapel Entebbe

This morning Andrew and I visited Calvary Chapel Entebbe. Our home church is Calvary Chapel Olympia (WA), I used to attend and we're supported by Calvary Chapel Langley (BC), Andrew used to attend Crossroads, a Calvary Chapel in Vancouver, WA, and once while on vacation with my parents, we visited a Calvary Chapel in Stone Mountain, GA. But this was our first time at a Calvary in Africa! I was quite curious how it'd be different than the others, although since it was also my first visit to a Ugandan church, it's maybe a little tricky to know exactly what things are different just because they are Ugandan.

The whole service was totally bilingual in English and Luganda. The songs were a mixture, often with one verse of the English songs translated into Luganda, and sometimes a whole song was Luganda or English. Everything spoken at the front of the church, from announcements to prayers to the sermon, was translated from English into Luganda. Most of the audience laughed more at jokes after they were translated, which indicated to me that even if some of the Ugandans didn't know Luganda and needed the English, most of them did. The usual pastor is American, but he was away today, so the Ugandan assistant pastor preached.

Overall, the church felt WAY more western/American than any church I've ever attended in Tanzanian. For example, the kids were out having Sunday School during the sermon part of the service. In Tanzania, they are in with the adults, and if there is Sunday School, it's during adult Sunday School time, not during the main sermon. Also, there were guitars, a drum set, and a keyboard played by someone who actually knew how to play a keyboard. However, I appreciated that there were also two Ugandan drums. But I've sure never seen a guitar or a "normal" drum set before in a Tanzanian church. I'm not sure if they are due to the American influence in the church or if that's more common in Uganda, but it was new for me in Africa, at least. It was kind of a comfortable mix of western and East African, in that the music sounded Ugandan, but they were songs I knew in English, just sang with Ugandan English pronunciation, and some fun Luganda songs mixed in. There were words projected onto the wall, a computer running things in the back, and little paper bulletins. Again, maybe other Ugandan churches have these things, but for me they were a nice reminder of some positive aspects of western churches. It's really handy to have words up on the front wall during worship!

A great little variation from other Calvarys was the Bibles they offered for people to borrow during the service. They were New Living Translation!!! Take that, you King James Version Calvarys of North America, Uganda is showing you up. The pastor taught from the New International Version, but distributed to all the congregants who needed one for the was the NLT, my personal favorite English translation. :-) Way to go, Calvary Chapel Entebbe!

My favorite part was seeing the dove painted on the wall. After all, what's a Calvary Chapel without a giant dove swooping down, looking like it's divebombing the pastor? This one was a bit more moderate in size than some other Calvary's doves, but it was holding it's own up there.

So, today we got church in English (and Luganda). The last time I heard a sermon in English was, well, hmmm... one week ago when I listened to a MP3 of Calvary Chapel Olympia, which I think was a sermon from like three years ago, but hey, the Word of the Lord is the same yesterday, today, and forever, right?

Miscommunication: Frustration or Opportunity?

Tuesday was the day I started to come down with malaria symptoms. Through the morning my energy level took a dive, my head and tummy started to hurt, my muscles started to ache, and I lost my appetite for food (a rare thing for me). I tried to lay low during the Basic Bible Teaching workshop which was being held at the Lubwisi/Kwamba translation office, but when lunchtime came I felt obligated to tag along for the trip into town. It was our second day eating at the little restaurant there that served typical Western Ugandan food. There was one thing that sounded OK to eat. I wanted rice with a little bit of sauce over the top. That was all. After ordering, what I got was a huge portion of goat meat, a large portion of posho (a semi-solid, white, maize porridge), and a tiny bit of rice. I was annoyed. It was not the first time that my meal at a restaurant had been messed up, and it seemed they weren't even trying to listen to what I wanted. I also didn't feel we should have to pay for something we didn't want (the cost difference would have been about $1). I'm pretty sure I let my disgust show a little bit.

In contrast to my grumpy attitude, Timothy (the local Literacy/Scripture Use coordinator I had been working with) was sitting next to me and seemed to be taking it all in stride. He laughed, but didn't make a big deal about it with the servers. Then, all of a sudden, he disappeared outside. He later returned with a young motorcycle driver. He grabbed the food I wasn't going to eat and put it in front of the guy at the table next to ours. Then, some of the others in our group also started added the extra they weren't able to finish. Before long the guy realized he wouldn't be able to finish it all. He ran out and grabbed a friend to join him, and together they scarfed down a good meal.

This simple experience was a wake up call for me. There were a few ways I could have responded to the "non-ideal" situation. My choice was the wrong one. Timothy's was a great one!

Andrew

Water

On Wednesday morning, they started working on our road, and cut off our water. The road is blocked; we have to go around a detour to get in and out of our house. Since we're in the part of the road that is blocked, we dodge around the "Road Closed" sign to get in and out. I hope they might actually be doing some serious work on the road, like making proper drainage ditches and paving it, but I'm trying to keep my hopes down, since they most likely won't be spending that much money on it. As a side note, when they were working on the road last week they didn't close the road, but had people drive under the arm of the big Cat machine that had a scoop at the end. I had a moment of panic - seriously, there was a huge yellow bulldozer thing on one side of the road, and it was scooping a giant ditch on the other side, and everyone was just waiting for a moment and then whizzing underneath while it was still working away! But I survived and the truck didn't get smashed or anything.

When we got home to discover that our water had been cut off on Wednesday evening, we made do with eating some leftovers and figured it would be back on the next day. Well, Thursday morning arrived with no water. Skipping showering for one day isn't that big of a deal; we just went to work kind of smelly and greasy. This is Africa, nobody notices too much if you're past due for showering, since you get kind of sweaty every day, anyway.

Thursday was supposed to be laundry day, but that obviously didn't happen. It was also the day for the vet to come give the cats their rabies shots. (Yes, vets make house calls in Tanzania for everything from shots to surgery.) Betsy, the sweety, tiny little girl cat, went wild and bit me pretty hard. I couldn't wash off the blood and clean my wound at home, though, because of the water issue. So, back to the office I went (going the long way around, which was getting kind of annoying by then), and washed my puncture there.

That night our water came back for about an hour, enough time for me to dart into the bathroom and shower, fill the water filter bucket, and make pizza for dinner. It went out again before I had time to do any dishes. The next day, Friday, was totally without water all day. We were starting to run low on our bucket of drinking water, hadn't flushed the toilet in over 24 hours, and Andrew hadn't showered for several days. We had some leftover pizza for dinner, at least, but we used our last two forks and last two plates for eating it. Pretty much every dish we had was stacked on the counter, waiting for water. We realized that Andrew needed some of his clothes for his Uganda trip, and so took a few pairs of trousers and shirts over to our friends the Nicholls' house, where they saved the day by doing a load for us in their washing machine.

Saturday morning I went running, as usual. This time, however, I packed along my shampoo and towel, and our friends the Hills' saved the day by letting me shower at their house. I think I smelled badly enough that they didn't need any convincing of the importance of some water! Back at home, Andrew used most of our final 1/2 bucket of water to clean up a bit. We were down to 1/4 of a 5 gallon bucket as our only water in the house.

Saturday afternoon was missionary fellowship, so we went there (held at our friends the Turners' house) and drank lots of water and used their facilities, which flushed wonderfully well. Upon arriving home we checked the water first thing, but no luck. However, about halfway through watching a movie that night, we heard the ping ping ping of water coming out of the bathroom faucet and landing in the metal soup pot we'd put under the tap! Hallelujah! We both leapt into action, unsure of how long the water was going to stay on this time. We flushed the toilet about three times, Andrew showered and filled the drinking water filter, and I washed dishes like a madwoman.

This morning we checked the water first thing - still on! Not sure if they'll turn it off again tomorrow to continue with road work or not, but at least we've had one beautiful watery day here.