Bad shopping experience

Two days ago I was feeling energetic and so decided to brave going shopping with Zarya.  It's hard to carry a baby and groceries at the same time, so usually I do my shopping while she's napping on Saturday mornings.  But it was mid-week and we needed diesel and some things at a store (not the big market, but an actual store), so off we went.

I pulled up to get diesel, and was met by not just one, and not even two, but three attendants.  I guess they were bored.  One of them promptly began filling our tank.  Another leaned into my open window, hanging onto the glass, and getting right in my face (personal space! personal space!) to peer back at Zarya over my shoulder.  The third one ran around to the other side of the car, where I had left the back door unlocked after putting Zarya in her carseat at home.  She actually opened the door and started to try to grab Zarya out of her carseat.  Zarya, seeing a total stranger suddenly appearing and trying to grab her, began crying.  I finally got the attendant to close the door, although she still plastered herself to the glass window and continued to scare Zarya, who therefore continued to cry.

The lady inches away from my face began berating me for being an awful mother. "Why do you put her so far away from you in the car?  You should be holding her!" (Yes, because holding your child while driving a stick shift on bumpy dirt roads with crazy motorcycle drivers swerving all over is very responsible.)

"Well, if you can't hold her, at least put her in the passenger seat next to you!" (Yes, of course Zarya would stay there, sitting nicely in her seat, never trying to crawl out the window, grab the gearshift, or anything like that.) "She's crying because she's hungry, you need to nurse her!"

(Please don't try to grab my breast to make your point, ma'am, and no, she's crying because she's scared.)  "If she's crying and she's not hungry, give her hard candy to suck on!"  (Excuse me, but I don't think it's wise to give a seven-month-old hard candy.)

At which point our tank was finally full and I drove away to park and enter the store.

Inside, a store worker tried to take Zarya from me when she saw me enter and grab a shopping basket.  I explained that Zarya might cry because she didn't know her.  She cheerfully accepted this and carried my basket instead and helpfully lugged it around the store for me, adding items I pointed out.  At the checkout stand, the woman at the cash register was friendly, cooing over how sweet Zarya was and how healthy she looked.  "Your baby is so fat!" she exclaimed.

However, there was also a man standing there, leaning against the checkout stand.  He was a customer, I think, although he didn't have any items with him.  He smelled like alcohol and repeatedly tried to grab Zarya from me, ignoring my protests against this.  Since he was holding his phone, of course Zarya was kind of fascinated by this (she loves electronics).  Again ignoring my attempts to tell him to not give it to her, he offered it to her and she wanted to grab it.  So then he was trying to take her from me again and she didn't want him to take her, but she wanted his phone, which he was trying to give her, so it was all rather messy and obnoxious.

The friendly store worker carried my stuff out to our car for me and was very kind, telling me to have a lovely day and congratulating me again on such a pretty baby.  Maybe she'd noticed how irritated and frazzled I was and was trying to make up for the frustration caused by others, I don't know.  But whatever the case was, she was very sweet.

Since that store didn't have everything we needed, I then went on to another store to try to get the rest of what was on my list.  The workers there were all great, and they had a few more things I needed, but not all. So then Zarya and I tromped onwards to the third and final store with that sort of stuff in town, where we succeeded at finally finding baking soda (Musoma is apparently almost entirely sold out of baking soda and have been for weeks), but failed at getting popcorn (Musoma is officially, completely sold out of the nice kind of popcorn).  I had no complaints about the workers there, so it all ended okay.

I think I'll continue doing my shopping on Saturday mornings without a baby in tow.

Graduation party

Zarya, age seven months, with Shadrack's pastor's wife

Zarya with the graduate himself

Making a new friend, a two-year-old named Grace

Shadrack feeding Andrew cake

We recently helped put on a graduation party for a friend of ours, Shadrack.  Shadrack helped Andrew with Swahili waaaay back in the day in 2010.  In 2011 he left Musoma to attend teacher's training college on the other side of Tanzania, and wasn't able to visit home a single time for two years.  He's close to his family and they really missed him (and vice versa).  Shadrack's dad died of cancer several years ago, leaving his wife and five kids with no source of income.  Shadrack is the oldest boy and a really smart fellow, so he's hoping he'll be able to support his mom and siblings.

But back to the present and the pictures above.  Two days after Shadrack's return to Musoma, we and his mom put on a party to welcome him back.  Several people from their church came and it was a fun afternoon with some good food.  I had made a cake and they decided that we should not only enjoy it American style (everyone eating a piece), but also Tanzanian style... the special guest feeding everyone small bites with a toothpick.

Andrew, who was very willing to participate despite being slightly less than keen on another man feeding him cake, is pictured with his piece.  This was the second time in his life he's been fed cake by a man - the first was when he was best man at a Tanzanian friend's wedding and he and the groom exchanged pieces (as did the bride and I, as matron of honor).  Tanzanians love ceremony and formality, so we posed for pictures with every bite and make a big to-do about it as Shadrack fed cake to almost everyone in the room.

Overall, it was great to see Shadrack again, and we enjoyed seeing Zarya being friendly with new people (she'd met a couple of them before, but none of the ones pictured).  I was very glad I'd brought the cake, because, in addition to being pretty tasty, it provided some great entertainment.

The history of rainbows

This story was told to me by Pastor Futakamba, one of the Zanaki translators.  I've translated it for you here, just in case you prefer the English to the Swahili.

When it came time to test some recently-drafted chapters of Genesis among the Zanaki people in order to see how well they understood them, my co-translator and I sought out a group of non-Christians.  The story of Noah and the flood is just too familiar to people who attend church.  We knew that even if there was something confusing in the Zanaki translation, people would still give us the right answers to our comprehension questions, since they'd know the story from hearing it read in church in Swahili.

When a small group had formed, I started reading Genesis 8 aloud to them.  In another village we had read the first few chapters about Noah and the flood, but hadn't had quite enough time to finish the story, so with this group we were testing the chapters about the flood receding and God's covenant with Noah.  They were a good audience; they were quiet while we were reading and paid great attention so that when we asked our questions, they were prepared to answer.

After we read the verses in Genesis 9 about God putting the rainbow in the clouds as a sign of his covenant to never flood the earth again, one man spoke up before we had a chance to ask any questions.  He said, "Now I know why there are rainbows!  I've often seen them in the sky and never knew the true history behind them before hearing this read today."

We were glad that the people in this group received the Scriptures well and acknowledged them to be true, not just a traditional story about a different god.  We hope that someday they will be able to read the New Testament in Zanaki when it is finished and believe in Jesus when they learn about him.