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.