Twice is Nice

Rukia, the Ikizu translator, recently returned from a trip to a village. As soon as she came back, I sat down with her and asked all about her trip. I am not able to go out with the translators on their village trips very often, but I love hearing about them when they come back to the office. (If you're thinking carefully, you'll figure out that the above picture is from a previous trip when I was able to go with her.) She gave me all the basic information of her journey first, then at the end she got a little smile and leaned forward to tell me the following story (which I've changed into 3rd person so it can be an independent unit for reproduction elsewhere).

When Rukia, the Ikizu Bible translator, went to a village to read a chapter of her draft of Genesis aloud to get feedback from community members, several people gathered to listen. They were quite surprised to learn that Scripture was being translated into the Ikizu language, but even more surprised to learn that their language could be written.

Rukia began reading and everyone listened very carefully. They were nodding and smiling, following along with the story. She continued reading all the way through the end of the chapter. But as soon as she finished, they suddenly asked her to go back and read the final paragraph again. Rukia immediately thought, “Oh no, what did I mess up in my translation?”

After hearing the final paragraph once more, one man in the group leaned back and said, “Thank you, Rukia, for repeating that part of the story. It was just such good Ikizu and so sweet to our ears to hear our language being read that we all wanted to hear it again! We’ve never heard Ikizu being read aloud before!”

"Then everyone will understand everything!"

Part of my (Misha's) job is sending the translators out to villages periodically to have them do community testing with drafts of the translation. Last week Pastor Magoma, one of the Jita translators with whom I work, spent some time out in the Jita language area, and when he returned to the office this morning, I eagerly listened to him telling me about his trip. One story in particular caught my attention, and I thought you might like to read it:

One day Pastor Magoma traveled to a Jita village he had never been to before. He had with him several chapters of Acts translated into the Jita language and hoped to read the chapters aloud to the people of the village in order to receive some feedback from them about which parts of his draft needed improvement. A group of people, a mixture of believers and non-believers, gathered around to listen to him read.

Contrary to what he expected, the non-believers eagerly listened to the chapters and gave their full approval right away. They said, “You are preserving our language! You are now a respected person in our village for your work in writing down our language for future generations.” They did not seem to mind that the language preservation work was taking place by translating the Christian Scriptures; they thoroughly enjoyed listening to Pastor Magoma read chapters from Acts and were eager for more.

The Christians, however, responded with many questions. They asked questions such as, “How can you translate the Bible – do you know Greek and Hebrew?” and “Is this a paraphrase or a real translation?” and “Is this the work of a particular denomination?” and “Why did you choose that word in Jita for this theological key term?” The elders among them also wanted to know why some words were in modern Jita or even in Swahili, and not in the Jita of their ancestors. Pastor Magoma patiently answered all their questions and in the end, they broke into smiles, pleased with how he had responded.

Reassured that Pastor Magoma was doing good work, they asked, “Do you remember how Jita people used to sing hymns in their own language? We used to sing hymns translated into Jita in church. Do you think that you would have time to write down those songs in addition to your work translating the Bible? Then we can have a church service in which we sing hymns in Jita and read the Bible in Jita and everyone will understand everything!”

Indoor Sunbathing

Every afternoon from about 4:00 to 6:00, we get full sunshine coming in one of our windows. Guess who knows exactly where the sun is? As the sun slowly moves across the floor, Clive and Betsy slowly scoot along with it, moving about four feet along to make sure they get their full solar-charge for the day. You'd think wearing a fur coat in Musoma would keep one warm enough, but apparently not, because these cats are sprawled in the sunshine soaking up their rays every chance they get!

There's more than bilharzia in the water...

We're not quite sure WHAT is in the water in Musoma, but it seems that something more potent than even bilharzia (nasty little thing that causes disease) in the water around Musoma! The last five months have had a few events occurring that seem like more than just coincidence... It all began in April with a frenzy of activity. The Hill family, missionaries in Musoma, gave birth to a little boy, Cooper. Not too long afterwards, Rachel, another Musoma missionary, got engaged! Her fiance is from Egypt, and here's a great shot of them in his backyard. Well, maybe just in his country...

A week or two later, another Musoma missionary family, the Nicholls, gave birth to a little boy, Elliot. After a brief reprieve from activity, in July things in the water came into play again (although that would mean it had lingered in her system for a while, since she was in Canada at the time). Holly, a Musoma missionary, got engaged! His name is Jeff, and he'll be joining her in Musoma next year. Here's a picture of them just after he popped the question.

In September things have really gotten a bit crazy! First a Musoma missionary family, the Kamphuis', gave birth to a little boy, Aron. A couple weeks later, another Musoma missionary family, the Turners, gave birth to a (you guessed it!) little boy, Ezrah. Shortly after Ezrah's birth, there was another engagement, this time with Ellen and Johnny, both of them Musoma missionaries. This picture shows the happy couple (quite a few months before their engagement, however):

There is one more missionary family in the Musoma area expecting a baby, the Archers. If they have a boy, he's sure going to have a lot of little buddies his age to play boy games with, and if it's a girl, she'll have her pick of the crop. Also, there are still several single missionaries in Musoma, too, and you never know, maybe their turn for engagement is coming up soon... I think if they keep drinking the water (after filtering it!) or breathing the air, it just might happen!

What to do?

On Sunday Andrew and I went to church with a Tanzanian friend and his mom and siblings. Our friend's name is Shadrack and he's a young guy, maybe 20 years old. When Andrew finished language school and needed some more conversational practice, a local pastor connected him with Shadrack, who proved to be a good Swahili practicing partner. He knows English fairly well and is a smart, pleasant fellow and a very committed believer. After church (which lasted about three and a half hours), the pastor invited us and Shadrack's family over to his house for lunch. We visited and ate a meal, and about three hours later we apologized that we needed to leave and excused ourselves - visits here can get very long! Although it had been a nice visit and the food had been good, we were getting a little tired and ready to leave.

We gave Shadrack and his mom and little brother a ride home, and when we got to their house they, of course, wanted us to come in and visit. What could we say? Although Andrew was leaving for a week-long trip to Nairobi early the next morning and wasn't exactly ready for his trip just yet, we couldn't turn down their hospitality, so we went in to visit with them, although we didn't quite feel like it.

Shadrack's father died about three years ago (he had cancer). He was a carpenter, and from the looks of their house and the furniture in it, he was a good carpenter and made a decent living. To try to make ends meet after he died, Shadrack's family started a brick-making business. They built a kiln in their front year and make homemade bricks for people to use for building houses. It was not wildly profitable work, but they could get some money from their labor. However, we were recently the recipients of quite a bit of out-of-season rain here in Musoma. The wet season was very dry this year, and now it seems that the dry season is rather wet. The heavy rains destroyed all of their freshly-made bricks, ruined the big pile of sand they had stored up to make more bricks, and caved in their kiln! Shadrack and his mom were in despair. They showed us the damage and shrugged, saying, "We don't know what we'll do now. The rainy season isn't too far away now, and we're afraid it might rain again soon, even though it's supposed to be the dry season and doesn't usually rain this time of year."

Suddenly our concerns about being a bit tired and needing to get ready to go on a trip seemed very petty. We sat with the family, told them we were sorry for all their problems, and told them we'd pray for them. What does one say to a widow and her children who used to have a hard-working husband who gave them a nice life and are now destitute? We wanted to help, but what they need is employment, and we can't give that. Shadrack politely and indirectly inquired if we'll be hiring anyone at our office in the near future, but we're not. Shadrack is very smart and wants to go to college, but in order to get accepted at a public college in Tanzania, some bribes are required, which they can't afford (and don't want) to pay. He can get accepted at a private college, but can't afford the tuition. And even if he does manage to get a scholarship and go to college, that still means he leaves his mom alone with his younger brothers and sisters and no income. We had no answers for them, and other than a few encouraging words, we had nothing to offer. Our afternoon ended on a very sad note.

Taboo! (not the game)

Yesterday I (Misha) was working with the three Jita translators, Magesa, Magoma, and Neema (two men, one woman). We were checking their draft of Acts 9 to prepare it for testing in villages and for being checked by a translation consultant. Whenever we check chapters together, the first step I always have them do is to read their draft aloud. 95% of the time, the two listening to the one reading notice little details that need to be fixed. They usually comment on things like misspellings, awkward phrasings that need to be fixed, and where it would help to have a connector word inserted or deleted.

However, a first came up yesterday, and it took me a while to figure out what the problem was. Magesa had just finished reading the first part of the chapter when Magoma said (in Swahili), "We can't have that word for 'friends' in there!" Then he changed languages and kept on talking to his fellow translators in Jita, so I was not able to follow the conversation. All three translators became very animated and had a vigorous discussion in Jita. I kept hearing the Jita word for "friends" (which could also be translated as "fellows", "mates", or "relatives"), so I knew they were still talking about that, but since I didn't understand anything else, I was really quite curious as to what the problem was!

Eventually the translators' conversation wound down and they changed back into Swahili to explain things to me. Neema said, "The word we'd used for 'friends' in verse 7 (which in the NIV is translated as 'men', if you're checking your Bible!) is not okay for a female to say. It is very taboo!" Only men can say that word. Men say 'abhamura', but women say 'abharume'. Men can't say the women's word, and women can't say the men's word."

I asked, "But Acts is written by a man, Luke, so it would be okay for him to have written that word. So would it be okay for a woman to read that word, just repeating a man's words?"

Magesa said quite firmly, "No, a woman could not stand up in front of a church and read that. She could say it if she was with good friends her own age, but not in front of others. It is taboo!"

"Well, if it is taboo for women to say the man's word, could a man possibly say the women's word?" I asked.

They all laughed a bit and shook their heads. Apparently is is even more taboo for men to say women's words than it is for women to say men's words. "Well, what do you all propose we write instead," I challenged them.

Magoma suggested, "How about the general word for 'people'?" That seemed fine to me to me and the other two, so we made the change in their draft. So now in the Jita translation of Acts, chapter 9 verse 7 says, "the people who were with Paul", and we have not broken any cultural taboos.

No more flashlights!

The battery and inverter/charger


The switch that flips us from regular power (Tanesco, the electric company in Tanzania) to battery (marked "solar", because the electrician's assistant who wrote the labels thought the battery charged from solar panels, I think)

Earlier this year, Tanzania began to run out of electricity. We started going through a lot of candles and batteries in an effort to see every evening and morning (Andrew gets up before the sun). It was liveable, but pretty obnoxious. We felt like moles living in burrows underground, since it was so dark so often!

But then our church decided to bless us with a backup power system, and on our way through Nairobi in July, we picked out a nice battery and inverter/charger. It took a local electrician three full days to get it all set up and installed, but now that it's done - wow! No more burrow-like life! All we have to do is flip a few switches (being very careful to flip them in the correct order), and voila! Lights! There is a little hum in the background, but other than that, there's no way to know if the lights table come from normal electricity or from the battery. We've now had it for over a month and still get a bit excited when we can use it and just flip on the overhead lights instead of doing something like try to hold a flashlight in one hand and rinse dishes with the other (or some other awkward arrangement - have YOU ever tried to pin a flashlight between your upper arm and body so you can zip your pants after going to the bathroom?!).

Thanks, Calvary Chapel!