Coming or going?

Clockwise around the table: Andre - translation consultant in training, me - Jita translation advisor, Tom - translation consultant, Neema - Jita translator, Magoma - Jita translator, Magesa - Jita translator

Last week and this week I have been involved in the consultant check of Jita Acts 1-14.  Well, we hope to get all the way through chapter 14!  An exciting side note is that this is the first consultant check being done in our new building.

Today we encountered an interesting problem in Acts 10:33a.  It's one of those half-verses that doesn't have anything particularly theological in it, so it didn't seem likely to have any translation issues.  The context is that Cornelius is talking to Peter and explaining to him about being visited by an angel telling him to summon Peter, and how he had done so.  In the New Living Translation, it says: "So I sent for you at once, and it was good of you to come."  Pretty boring, hey?  Well, maybe you'll notice something interesting in the Jita translation, which I've translated into English here: "So this is the reason I told people to come call you, and you have done well to come."

Read it again, just in case you missed it the first time.  Do you see it?  It's that "I told people to come call you" bit in there.  How can Cornelius, who is at his own home at this point in the story, talk about sending messengers to go on a journey of three days to go fetch Peter, say "to COME call you"?  It doesn't really make sense in English, but in Jita, it sounds just fine.  Because Cornelius is talking to Peter himself, it's "come".  In Jita, if he said "go" in this context, it would mean that it was someone other than Peter who had been called.  Cool, hey?

The consultant and I both thought the translators had simply gotten confused and messed up by writing "come" instead of "go", but when they explained it, it reminded me once again of the value of having mother-tongue translators!  There is no way someone who is not Jita could have possibly translated that verb correctly, but since they are doing it in their own language, it sounds just right.

Holly is coming!

Holly and me in October 2007 - four years ago!

Holly Higgins is coming to Musoma tomorrow!  (Side note: I wanted to put a nice, more recent picture of Holly up here, but somehow it worked out that all I have is a lot of candid shots that, while cute in their own way, Holly would not appreciate me posting for the world to see...  So anyway, here we are four years ago.  This picture was posed on some stairs - Holly is about a foot shorter than I am.)

Holly and I lived together from July 2007 to July 2008, when I went back to the States for six months.  She took care of the house and cats in my absence, then we lived together again from January 2009 to May 2009, at which time it was her turn to go back to North America for a while.  We met up at my wedding that July (she was a bridesmaid) and then in January 2010 Andrew and I visited her in Langley, BC, where she was attending grad school (at Trinity Western University, the same grad school I went to).  She came out to Tanzania for a couple months to do research for her Masters thesis (which she recently successfully defended!), and is now coming here for a four-month stretch.  She has to return back to the States because she's getting married in February!  Then later in 2012 she and her husband will come back to Tanzania together to live here long-term.

You might recall from previous posts that the house in which Andrew and I are currently living is next-door to the house where Holly and I used to live.  Well, guess where Holly's going to be living when she arrives?  That's right - in the same house she and I used to share!  We may not be able to be housemates anymore since I'm now married and she's about to be, but we'll be about as close as it's possible to get without actually living together.  I'm so excited to have a good friend as my next-door neighbor!

The last of the first

This elderly man, pictured at the Ikoma Luke dedication, was one of the very first Ikoma believers.  The Ikoma people all followed their traditional religion, but this man and a few others heard about Jesus and believed.  He became a pastor with the Mennonite church and planted churches in several Ikoma villages.  For years he worked to reach his people with the gospel and to start local churches.

Eventually, all of the other first believers died.  This man is now the only remaining one from that original group.  When he arrived at the Ikoma Luke dedication, he was ushered to the front of the church to sit in an honored position (and a comfortable chair).

One of my (Misha's) jobs during the dedication was to give copies of Ikoma Luke to the important guests sitting at the head table.  When I handed the bright blue copy of Luke to this elderly Ikoma man, I was sad that none of the other first believers had lived to see this moment.  But I was also happy that at least one of that group was there to see Scripture in his mother tongue.  After his years of work to preach the gospel among the Ikoma, I hope he was pleased to see God's Word in the Ikoma language for the first time ever and think that now the churches he planted can read about God in Ikoma, and maybe they can reach even more people!

Shadrack

At 9pm on Thursday evening I received two text messages on my phone.  The first one said, “I’ve been accepted at a teaching college.  Please call me so we can talk.”  The second one said, “I need to depart tomorrow morning because it’s in the Iringa Region.”  They were both from Shadrack.

Shadrack is the young guy who helped me with my Swahili after completing language school.  He became a good friend as we spent two or three days a week practicing conversation and studying vocabulary.

Before we met, Shadrack had completed Form 4 education, which is equivalent to high school in the States.  He has been trying to get accepted into a school and trying to accumulate the necessary funds to make it possible, although he has never been pushy about his needs.  Being impressed with his natural intelligence and work ethic, I’ve really hoped it would happen.  A few months ago, Michelle and I met with Shadrack over brunch and told him that we’d love to do what we could to help him pay for school if he was able to get accepted somewhere. 

These two text messages on Thursday evening started an interesting cascade of events.  We determined that he’d just received the news that day and had started visiting family and friends to figure out how he was going to get the money for travel to Iringa and school fees.  Iringa is in the southern half of Tanzania, and at least a 2-day journey by bus from Musoma.

After a few calls back and forth, we agreed that we’d take Shadrack to the bus station on Friday morning.  So, less than eight hours after first hearing from him, we pulled up in front of his house at 4:40am.  He met us outside and explained that he hadn’t slept at all.  He’d spent the entire night saying goodbye to friends and packing his single, carryon-sized suitcase.  We went into the house, where his family had gathered (mother, aunt, sister, brother, and pastor’s son).  We chatted for a couple minutes and then prayed together in Tanzanian style, one person starting and then everyone praying out loud together.  I could sense some hesitation as the prayers started winding down, and then the sobbing began (a very uncommon thing in Tanzania, except at funerals).  It all of a sudden struck me how difficult this was, despite the positive opportunity.  Shadrack was leaving his widowed mother, 14-year-old brother, and other family members for a long time.  Since Iringa is so far away, he knew that he might not see any of them again for two years.  And they don’t even know where their necessities will come from!  Will Mom be able to get enough food for the family while I’m gone?  Will Shadrack be comfortable in the school’s housing and be able to get the necessary school supplies?  What if something happens?

We all (7 of us!) piled into our car and headed to the bus station where we saw him say his final goodbyes and board the first of several buses with his little suitcase for the beginning of his journey.

It all happened so fast, I don’t think anyone had adequate time to process.  Thursday morning was just another dull day for Shadrack.  Friday morning he was on a bus and off for school many kilometers away from home.  And his classes start on Monday morning. 

We pray that all goes well for Shadrack in his studies.

Clive, Feb. 26, 2007 - Oct. 5, 2011

Clive, age 5 weeks and 2 days (the day I brought him home)

Kittens on the jungle gym!  (a chair with the cushions removed)



Betsy and Clive, who always acted like her little kitten and would snuggle up to her



Clive got a toy in a care package from the States and went wild over it!

Clive and some twine that fascinated him for many weeks

Clive and Betsy - he always managed to make her into a pillow and take up the entire cushion

The cutest lazy bum in all of Tanzania and his obliging sister

Clive, looking rather cocky on top of the closet on the day I moved into a new house and he was checking out his new digs

Little cats checking out the big outdoors

Clive and his prize, which he brought inside shortly after this picture was taken and put on  my bed...

Clive in a tree, looking very handsome

The last good picture I have of Clive.  If you look closely, you can see his mouth is a bit open as he sleeps, which is because he was having a hard time breathing his last months.

October 5, 2011 marks the last day of Clive's little life.  He was only 4 and a half, but he had been sick (and getting sicker) since January, and after nine months of struggling, we let him go today.  (A vet assisted.)

Clive was a incredibly social, friendly cat, and one of the only cats I've known who didn't mind little kids (too much).  He would let toddlers "pet" him and wouldn't run away from kids who came to our house to visit.  He loved attention and affection.

His love for people was only exceeded by his love for food.  Nothing in our house was safe if Clive was inside!  Raw onions left on a plate after eating pasta salad, frozen papaya thawing on the counter before being blended into a smoothie, leftover rice at the bottom of the pot soaking in the sink - you name it, Clive ate it.  And loved it.  He was cheerful about eating his own food (dried fish), too, but he had quite the palate for human food!  Any sort of meat was his absolute favorite, followed by bread.  For his final meal, I gave him a piece of bread.  He took a while to get it down because he struggled to breathe while eating and had a sneezing attack in the middle of it, but he ate the entire piece.

Clive also quite enjoyed his rights as an American - freedom of speech.  If he had an opinion, he liked to share it.  If he needed something, he had no qualms about telling us.  If he wanted in, wanted out, wanted more food, wanted our food, wanted to join the conversation, wanted us to pet him, he just went right ahead and let us know.  It was terribly annoying, but it was also handy at times to have a cat who tried to communicate with us.

Clive and his twin sister, Betsy, were the best of buddies.  He was a total pest who took her food, laid down on top of her if she was in a spot he wanted, and connived her into giving him a nose-to-toes bath quite regularly. She fell for it all and adored him as her big brother. They usually slept curled up together and it could be hard to tell whose paws and tail were whose as they got tangled up in sleep.  I loved it when they'd curl up together on my lap, although such times usually ended with Clive slowly edging Betsy off the lap and she'd finish her nap next to us on the couch while he got the entire spot.

Clive was a good-natured cat who came when called, would let himself be transfered from one sleeping position to another without getting indignant and stomping away like most cats do, caught mice and geckos to keep our house free from critters (although his sister Betsy's ability exceeded his), and lived for the evenings when we watched movies and he got to sleep on my or Andrew's lap for hours.  His favorite spot in the world was on his mama's lap (mine).  As we drove him to go meet the vet this afternoon, he got a final 30 minutes snuggled up on my lap, leaning his head against me.

Good-bye, Clivey-boo.  We love you.  We'll miss you.

Good-bye, Rachel

The missionary women of Musoma!  (And no, we did not intentionally coordinate our outfits for the picture.)

This morning all the missionary women of Musoma gathered for a farewell brunch for Rachel Workentine, a translation advisor here at the Mara Cluster.  She's been in Musoma since 2008, but she and I become good friends back in 2004.  We were assigned to be roommates our very first semester of grad school, and we liked each other so much that we just kept on living together for the next two years!  (Side note: we have the same personality, according to Myers-Briggs, and as anyone who has ever been around us much can testify, it shows.)  We lived in three different places during those two years, but we always shared a bedroom and usually we had all of our classes together each semester, too, so we saw a LOT of each other during that time.  At the time we had no inkling that we'd end up together later in Africa - I know it looks like we planned things this way, but it really did just kind of happen!  It's been so wonderful to get to have a close friend here in Musoma, someone who has known me for longer than just a year or two, someone who has met my family and has some shared history with me.  I'm really going to miss Rachel.



Rachel and me this morning at brunch



Shannon (our other housemate in grad school), Rachel, and me in Banff in 2005