Christmas

There are so many things I want to write about my Christmas Day. I’m not sure which parts to describe in detail and which ones to leave out. But I will start by stating the obvious: This was a Christmas like none I’ve ever experienced. It wasn’t a day about gifts…although Jodie and I gave gifts to people…but it was a day of celebration.
Pastor Mbasha invited us to his church for a “Celebration of Jesus” service on Christmas morning. Whenever I visit his church that means I will be the one giving the morning message. I had forgotten that he said those words to me…I really didn’t think I would be sharing the Christmas message at his church on Christmas morning. But on Saturday night I happened to call Pastor Mbasha to ask him a question and he casually reminded me that I was giving the Christmas message at his church on Monday morning. Between seven hours of baking, unexpected visitors popping by and wrapping Christmas presents, I managed to make time to work on my message for Monday throughout the day on Sunday.
Christmas morning started off with me waking up at 5am to thunder and lightning. I decided to get up and review my notes for Christmas service. Then the power went out. So I changed my mind about reviewing my notes and went to take a shower. Jodie got up and we had tea and talked about it being Christmas morning. Then we practiced our Swahili Christmas song we learned so we could sing it in church…we even practiced some dance moves to go with the song…nothing to write about in detail…the dance moves were minimal.
When we arrived at Pastor Mbasha’s house his children were so happy to see us. They love it when we come to church with them because that means they will be driving in a vehicle to church…instead of riding on a bike for an hour to and hour and a half…one way.
It doesn’t matter what time of day we visit Pastor Mbasha’s house, they always serve us food. We had stopped by his house last Saturday morning on our way to Arusha (a city about an hour and a half away) and we were served Africa porridge. I’d never had anything like it in my life…I helped Jodie eat hers.
So on Christmas morning we were served African tea and goat liver. As we sat and ate the children got dressed. They came out in their beautifully matching Christmas outfits. Then Jodie and I went into a bedroom to put on our outfits…Pastor Mbasha had outfits made for us to match the ones his family was wearing…his Christmas gift to us. After we were all dressed Jodie and I passed out the presents we brought for Pastor Mbasha and his family. Everyone took their gift and left to their rooms to open them. One at a time they came out of their rooms to thanks us...so sweet.

Jodie and I had driven both orphanage vehicles this morning because Pastor Mbasha had lots of family visiting from all over Tanzania for Christmas and they wanted to come to church and share in the celebration of Jesus service. So everyone piled into both vehicles.

Church was a very special time. Everyone had come to celebrate and that is what they did. It is hard to describe the church service because it is not like any in America. We are out in the middle of nowhere in a cement and brick church with a dirt floor. There is a wasp nest on the inside roof with wasps flying around the entire time. But no one seems to notice. The focus of the people remains on worshipping and celebrating…I loved it.
Jodie and I sang our Christmas song and everyone joined in to sing so we sang it again…that was fun.

I love presenting the message at Pastor Mbasha’s church. Everyone sits so intently listening…including all of the children. It always amazes me to watch the little ones sitting there watching and listening…no one has to talk to them about goofing around or talking too loud…they just listen.

After church all of the members of Pastor Mbasha’s church climbed into the back of the truck or squeezed into the van and returned with us to his house for the Christmas meal. Pastor Mbasha had promised goat cooked various ways and he did not disappoint.
Jodie and I brought the baked goodies we had made the day before and everyone enjoyed them. It was a very nice meal. There were so many people…between his family and church members the inside of the house, front yard and backyard had people in plenty. After eating Jodie and I went for a walk. It was a beautiful afternoon. We took pictures of Mt. Kilimanjaro and Mt. Meru. There were beautiful flowers in bloom…the view was beautiful everywhere we looked.

When we returned from our walk everyone wanted us to take pictures. We took LOTS of photos…they loved our digital cameras because the image pops up right after taking the photo. During the week we are going to print some of the photos out and bring them some of the pictures as a surprise…they’ll love it.
We will be going back next week for New Year’s Eve celebration…Pastor Mbasha calls it Thanksgiving Day…giving thanks for all the Lord has done in 2006…he informed me that I will be sharing the message that morning at church.

By the time we got home it was dark. I wanted to call my mom and wish her a Merry Christmas but I was so tired. Then I remembered that with the time difference…Tanzania is 11 hours ahead of California…I could get a good night’s sleep and wake up the next morning and wish my mom a Merry Christmas on Christmas Day…so I did.
My Christmas this year was very special. I spent it with a wonderful family and met a whole bunch of new people. I missed being home but I didn’t focus on that part…I am here so I focused on being here and enjoying the day…and I did.

Maasai Funeral

Last week I attended the funeral of a Maasai pastor that I had met the first time I came to Africa four years ago. On my first visit to Africa I came to teach at Pastor’s School. I also visited the medical clinic and the church where some of the members of our group were doing a VBS program for preschoolers. But I spent most of my days at Pastor’s School. I didn’t get to talk to each pastor personally…most did not speak English…but I did meet them all.
I remember Pastor Paulo because he is Maasai. Some of the Maasai pastors don’t wear the traditional Maasai clothing, but Pastor Paulo did. He was very friendly and I even took a picture of him with some of the other pastors and the Bishop. It has always been one of my favorite photos.

Last week Pastor Paulo died. His funeral was on Friday. Pastor Mbahsa said it would be proper for me to attend the funeral…to represent Pastor Rita…Pastor Paulo loved her very much.
There is so much I want to write so that you could be a part of this experience with me, but I don’t think I can fully express what I saw and felt.
The funeral was held in Pastor Paulo’s village…the middle of nowhere…Maasai land. I drove with Bishop Alfred, Pastor Mbasha, Janet (Pastor Mbasha’s wife) and on the way we picked up a few other pastors that jumped into the back of the truck.
When we arrived many Maasai Pastors surrounded the truck to greet us. They were so sweet. As soon as I stepped out of the truck my foot landed on a small bush full of stickers. I had stickers all over my foot. I was trying to gracefully greet the pastors without showing attention to the stickers that were in my foot.
There were so many people. All of them were African and the majority of them Maasai. Some of them were members of Pastor Paulo’s church but most of them were not. After greeting the pastors, the men walked in one direction and Janet and I went in another one. I realized at that moment this was going to be a different experience for me. Most of the time when I am invited to an African meeting…usually a church type of meeting…I am with other Americans and we are there because one of us is speaking. But today I was not invited by the Maasai to attend this funeral, I was not speaking, and I was not with any other Americans.
Janet walked me over to a tree where some women were sitting. We were away from all of the men and most of the other people. There were five women and a baby with us under the tree. The woman with the baby let me hold him and I played with him while we sat and waited. After a while two vehicles pulled up…one of them was the vehicle transporting Pastor Paulo’s body from the mortuary. After a few more minutes Janet motioned for us to walk towards that direction. As we approached a boma (Maasai house) we heard singing…they had begun the service. At the front of the boma all the men were gathered. At the back of the boma the women were sitting. We stopped where the women were and I sat on a tree branch. All of the women sat staring at me. A teenage Maasai girl sat next to me and brushed my hair with her fingers. A few kids saw her and came over too. I sat there listening to the men singing and looked at my surroundings. I began to imagine Pastor Paulo in Heaven. I have an idea in my head of what heaven will be like, but it is my American version of heaven. Pastor Mbasha always says to me, “Work now…rest in Heaven.” Pastor Paulo had worked hard in a very rough land…now he was resting.
At the end of the service the women stood and made a line to view the body. I got in line with them.
Afterwards everyone walked over to the grave site. Janet and I sat at a distance in the background. I watched as they dug the grave, laid the coffin in the ground, and as hymns were sung, one at a time the men threw dirt on top of the coffin. Then they completely covered the coffin with dirt and laid thorny bushes on top.

All the men walked a small distance away toward a group of trees and the women went in the opposite direction. Janet and I stayed where we were sitting. As the men passed by us, some of them stopped to shake my hand. They didn’t seem upset that I was there.
(Many Maasai have absolutely no contact with white people. We have a young Maasai guard working for us who said when he was growing up and he would see a white person he would run and hide out of fear of them.)

One Maasai man saw Janet and I sitting there and walked over to us. He shook my hand and called out to someone. The next thing I new someone brought water for us to wash our hands and two bowls piled high with wild rice and goat. Janet told the man serving the food that we would share one bowl…it was enough for three or four people. But the man insisted we have our own bowls. As we sat there eating the men began to return from eating. They came over and watched me eat my rice and goat…I had nicknamed my bowl piled high with rice “Mt. Kilimanjaro.” The Massai don’t use utensils so you can imagine how entertaining I looked to them eating my bowl of rice and goat. But they were happy as they watched me eat. More men came over to say hi.
I was full after eating less than half of my food. Janet kept saying to me, “kula dada.” (eat sister) So I tried to eat more. Then Johanna came over…he is a Maasai that works as a weekend guard at our orphanage. I handed him my bowl and begged him to take it. He smiled and nodded as he took it. Janet had stopped eating a long time before me…but no one was watching her eat. Pastor Mbasha came over and said it was time to leave. I stood up and a large number of Maasai came over to shake my hand.

Pastor Mbasha said it was good that I attended the funeral. I came and respected their culture and their land. I didn’t invade their private lives like a tourist with a camera. I came to honor a good man and did not get in the way but followed their customs of a woman and a guest. They appreciated that. For many of those men I was their first face to face contact with a white person.
It is hard to describe what was going on inside of me that day. But this experience did something in me. I am a little different because of my day with the Maasai. (I have visited Maasai villages before but this day was different.) I was allowed to be part of a private service to honor Pastor Paulo…I was there and they welcomed me.

Only in Africa

I was thinking about the things that only happen in Africa and how in America it is safe to say they would not happen. I thought it would be fun to write about a few of them.

• The other day one of our workers said he was going to be late for work because he had to deliver a goat to friend.
• I woke up in the middle of the night to find a mosquito trapped inside my mosquito net with me and my arms covered with mosquito bites.
• We had electricity two days in a row this week…YEAH!
• The other day our Swahili teacher gave us sentences to practice for everyday conversation. Here are a few: Many people were killed by the lion. We were given a goat by the elders. This road is impassable. The food was not cooked well. How many tea bags are there?
• We place our trash outside and when the pile is large enough we have a huge bonfire. Everyone does this. There are bonfires burning all over the city…I just saw a HUGE one on the property of the court house.
• We road in public transportation and paid double the price because we are white.
• When we visit someone’s house for a meal there are never napkins involved. Someone brings a pitcher of water and a plastic bowl and they pour water on our hands before and after the meal.
• Bananas are a regular gift given to us from friends.
• Every morning Pastor Mbasha brings us fresh milk straight from his brother’s cow so we can enjoy our African tea.
• One of Pastor Mbasha’s sheep gave birth to a lamb and I named it “Happy Mark.” So now he has a goat named “God is Light” and a lamb named “Happy Mark.” By the way these are not names I made up but names a friend wants to give his own children one day.
• When I hear a scuttling noise in the middle of the night it’s usually a lizard…they are HUGE…the question is: is it in the room or outside my window…I usually just keep my eyes closed and hope it is outside.
• When my bicycle had a flat tire one of our workers went and got a machete to remove the tire so we could repair it.
• There is a hedgehog that lives on our property…we took pictures with him. We’ve decided to call him Spike.

Pastor Mbasha holding Spike

• I am rarely called by my name…most people call me Dada, Mama, or Ridia.
• I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone call Jodie by her name…too hard to pronounce…so she is usually called Judy or Nesi. Pastor Mbasha calls her Doctor.

Good Eating

Last Sunday I spoke at the church of a friend. After the service we were invited to the Pastor’s house for a meal. I knew that after leaving his house we would be going to Pastor Mbasha’s house for a visit. In my mind I kept thinking that I didn’t want to eat too much food because I knew we would be having food at Pastor Mbasha’s too.
At the pastor’s house they served us African tea…I love African tea. After they served the tea they opened up the dishes that were sitting on the table. There was chicken and chapati. I took one piece of chicken and one chapati. I thought, “This is great. I will have plenty of room for eating at Pastor Mbasha’s house later on.” Right after I finished drinking my tea someone got up and filled my cup up again. When I was just about finished with my chicken and chapati a woman came in with some stew…she gave Jodie and me bowls to serve ourselves. We looked at each other and smiled, Then Jodie served small amounts of stew in each of our bowls. One woman noticed the amount she was serving and insisted that we help ourselves to more. To help us out she got up and opened the chapati container and put another chapati on my plate. As we sat there eating our stew and chipati a man walked in with a tray of sodas. I was asked which soda I wanted and I pointed to the second cup tea I was still drinking. Since I didn’t give the answer of which soda I wanted I was asked again. I whispered to Jodie, “I’m already full.” Then I smiled and said, “I’ll take a Fanta Pineapple.”
Before we left I was handed a bottle of water to drink…because apparently after two cups of tea and a Fanta Pineapple, I must have looked thirsty.

Please don’t think I was not thankful for the wonderful meal. It was great and everyone was so sweet and thoughtful. I am always so appreciative for the kindness shown to us when we are invited to someone’s house for a meal. After we ate the Pastor thanked us for coming. Then I was given an opportunity to say something. I thanked everyone for their kindness and hospitality. They treated us with such respect and honor. I am always so humbled by the honor shown to us.

As we drove to Pastor Mbasha’s house we chatted about the thoughtfulness everyone showed to us. We pulled up and Pastor Mbasha was waiting for us…he is always so excited to see us. He had placed his sitting furniture outside in the yard…he knows I love sitting outside in the yard. We sat down and immediately we were served African tea. Within a few minutes after our tea his son brought us some corn on the cob. A few weeks earlier we had briefly stopped by his house and they had some corn on the cob left-over from lunch. We were so excited because we hadn’t eaten corn on the cob since we’d been in Africa. Today they had roasted some for us and it was right off the fire when he brought it to us. I looked at Jodie and we smiled as we began to eat. As I was finishing my corn Pastor Mbasha got up and returned with another plate filled with corn on the cob…he said he knew we liked it so much so he wanted us to have lots to eat. As we were continuing with our corn, Janet, Pastor Mbasha’s wife brought out some mango. Jodie was trying to finish the corn but Janet wanted her to have some mango too. I laughed and grabbed a piece of mango before anyone said anything to me.
Pastor Mbasha got up and walked away while we were eating…I was finishing up my second corn when he returned with sodas…this time I had a Coke. I decided to sip my Coke slowly so I could enjoy my one soda during the whole visit. Halfway through my soda Janet brought out a bowl full of meat…in some homes we’ve visited everyone shares food from the same bowl. The meat was cooked well with tasty spices. At this point to say that I was full would be an understatement…huge understatement. Jodie stopped eating and Janet asked her why she wasn’t eating any meat. She said she was very full (nimesheba sana). Janet suggested that Jodie stand up and jump up and down so she would be able to enjoy more meat...and Jodie did…we laughed so hard. Jodie sat down and began to enjoy the meat.
I am so thankful to be living in Africa. I haven’t lost a whole lot of weight though…hmm…I wonder why.

Thanksgiving in Africa

I have spent all of my Thanksgivings with my family. We usually spent Thanksgiving at home but on occasion we went camping. I've never been away from my family on Thanksgiving...until this year. I didn't know what I was going to feel or how it would be for me. But I am living in a country that doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving...most Africans don't even know what Thanksgiving is...explaining it to them is not as easy as you'd think.
So I woke up Thanksgiving morning to a day that was just like any other work day. I did what I would normally do and continued with my day...business as usual. But throughout the day Jodie and I kept reminding each other of the significance of the day...that was nice. We'd talk about what everyone back home would be eating and what our favorite dishes are. We talked about fun Thanksgiving memories and things we are thankful for. It was nice.

For dinner we cooked beef stew and chapati. As we were finishing up cooking dinner the electricity went out. I thought about how the power going out makes this more an African Thanksgiving than ever...the power is usually out 3-5 days a week...sometimes more. So we ate our meal with the flashlights on.
Before we began eating the three of us each said what we were thankful for. We agreed that God has been good and we were thankful for His goodness these past months. We prayed and ate quietly. It was nice.

After dinner we called family in the U.S. to find out about the yummy dishes in preparation for the day (Africa is 11 hours ahead). I talked to my mom and she told me about the family members that were coming to her house for dinner. I was happy there was going to be a full house.
My mom said my brother Al would be taking pictures of the food and emailing them to me. :)
My Thanksgiving was different from the others but it was a good day. I am so thankful for so much.

Chapati

There is a popular food here in Tanzania called chapati. It is made just like tortillas. The ingredients are almost the same. Jodie and I have been practicing and we've learned how to make it.

Last week Jodie and I geared up to make some chapati. After we had the dough all mixed and ready to roll we thought it would be fun to do something different besides making the chapati round. So...with our favorite African in mind...Pastor Mbasha...we decided to cut out some shapes that he would enjoy. The first shape was easy to choose...Pastor Mbasha is a man of love. He only knows how to love. When someone treats him wrong, his response is love...every single time...he loves to love. Almost everyday I tell him (in Swahili) that he is one big heart with arms.
So...our first chapati shape was a heart.
After the heart came out so nice we decided to try something else. Jodie shouted out, "Mapacha!" Mapacha is the Swahili word for twin...Pastor Mbasha says we are twins. We share the same birthday, including the year...we are the exact same age. So I made a boy and a girl mapacha chapati...I made sure the boy had muscles just like Pastor Mbasha. :)
It took a couple of tries to get the mapacha chapati right...Pastor Mbasha's head broke off and then my foot didn't survive the frying pan part of the cooking. After a few tries my mapacha chapati came out great. I took a picture of my mapacha chapati with my cell phone and attached the picture as my wallpaper on my phone. :)

After we finished with the mapacha chapati we wanted to make one more design...but we couldn't come up with any ideas. Then it hit me: God is Light (my last blog entry was all about God is Light). He came out great. Our night guard came to the door to ask us a question and I showed him God is Light and he said, "mbuzi." That is the Swahili word for goat...it really looked like a goat.

While we were making the chapati I sent Pastor Mbasha a text page to let him know we were making special chapati just for him. The next morning he asked about his special chapati. We brought it out to him one at a time...the heart first. He loved it. Then the mapacha chapati was second...he kissed it. God is Light was brought out last...He laughed so hard and then he tore the head off and ate it. His reactions were just what we knew they would be...priceless. :)