What happened when we asked Jerry and his Tanzanian friends if we could take pictures of them while they played soccer.  Needless to say, they went nuts.

A Walk Around Makoko

A view from the balcony of the school. If you look closely, you can see Lake Victoria in the background.

As per request, a picture of our "home".

After numerous requests by Caitlin’s dad to send pictures of our area, we finally set off on a picture taking expedition this afternoon. Little did we know, this walk would provide such a rich snapshot of Musoma and our experiences here.

As soon as we exited the gate of the language school, we ran into Father Art Willy engaged in his routine afternoon walk. The man is a Maryknoll legend. Rumor has it, he not only received language training from Nyerere (the first president of Tanzania- if you haven’t heard of him, look him up) but also spent the last two weeks of Nyerere’s life at his bedside in Great Britain and returned to Tanzania after Nyerere’s passing on a private jet with Nyerere’s family.

Next we walked to the Ephata Retreat center to take some pictures of Lake Victoria, as specifically requested by Caitlin’s dad. While sitting on the shore practicing the Swahili conversation that David has to recite tomorrow in class, we watched first one daring teenage boy swim out into the Bilharzia infested (look that up too) lake to dive off a rock followed by about 20 more naked and unashamed teenage boys. Bilharzia be damned they appeared to be having the time of their lives jumping in the waves. It sure made us wish we were oblivious to the skin-penetrating parasite that lives in the mud on the shores of the lake.

After realizing that we were being a little bit voyeuristic (clearly not intentionally), we decided to continue on our walk, shikamoo-ing every person who may or may not have been older than us and shouting “watoto” (children) at the nearly 20 small children that we walked past who screamed “wazungu” (white people) at us.  (Our other favorite thing to do when kids yell “wazungu” is to yell back “Wapi?” (where?) and look all around us. They usually don’t get it.) Our next stop was one of the places on our regular walking route that I have come to dislike the most, the corner where many men from the neighborhood hang out waiting for unsuspecting wazungus like us to walk by so they can start long and involved conversations with us in Swahili while watching us sweat.

Today’s contestant was fishermen who smelled like he had been drinking and who was very insistent on carrying on a conversation directed mostly at Caitlin alone. For about 10 minutes, which felt like ten hours, this fisherman talked to her in broken English and Swahili about learning Swahili, about America, Obama (the usual), her preschool job in Mwanza and about how poor people in Tanzania are.  At least Caitlin was pretty sure that is what he was talking about. She was pretty proud of herself for getting a few appropriate Swahili phrases in, but the one she probably said the most was the one he was not going to listen to” Sasa, tunarudi shuleni” (Now we are going to return to school). The man just kept on talking and we thought we were never going to get away, but then when he turned to grab something (God only knows what), we saw a familiar face, our teacher Joakim who we immediately ran to. Joakim must have known that the man had every intention of talking to us for the next couple of hours so he immediately told the man that we were going to his house and began walking us there. On our very short walk to his home, Joakim explained to us that he knew that man was very bright and had studied in Dar Es Salaam but in his words, had been “corrupted by alcohol.”

We were very greatful to Joakim for saving us and taking us to his home. There we met his wife, sister in law and two young children. As he knew that we had to be returning to school for dinner, after a very short visit with his family, Joakim walked with us a bit to show us an alternative route back to the school so that we wouldn’t have to walk past our new friend the fisherman again. While Joakim was walking with us, we walked up to a man lying on his side by the path. Immediately Caitlin’s heart jumped into her throat as she thought the man might be dead, but Jaokim quickly assuaged her fears by turning the man over, and then smacking him several times on the legs until he moaned and waved him away. Then as if it were just a normal thing Joakim looked at us and said “Drinking is a very bad problem with the fisherman. Maybe he didn’t eat today. I will come back and bring him water so he doesn’t die.” It was a very sad scene to witness, but it was very refreshing to hear Joakim without hesitation take responsibility for his fellow man.

After leaving Joakim we walked into a large field where about 10 boys were playing soccer. The boys immediately stopped what they were doing and started shouting, as you can probably guess by now, “WAZUNGU!!!” We responded with our usual and kept on walking but then amidst the random shouting in Swahili we heard one of the boys yell “Dawdi” the name everyone calls David in Tanzania. A boy ran from the crowd towards us and David immediately recognized him as Jerry the kid who had slid under the language school fence the other day to come play tennis with him.  David talked to Jerry for a second and then all of the boys ran over to talk with us too. We talked with the boys for a few minutes and juggled the ball with them a bit until we decided that it truly was time to “rudi shuleni” if we were going to make it back on time. The boys who all seemed very entertained to see a girl juggle a soccer ball told us to come again and we really hope to do so.

The rest of our walk was pretty uneventful. We saw some cows. Caitlin got called out by an old lady for not Shikamoo-ing her and we made it back just in time for dinner.

Lisa's Pride

Here's a pic of us at "Lisa's Pride". LP happens twice a month at Liz
Mach and Sister Marion's house near us. Kids who are HIV positive come
for an afternoon to play and get some nutritional food. They also get
reimbursed for antiretrovirals they have bought. It was called Lisa's
Pride after Sister Marion (from Long Island)'s niece died during an
operation and instead of people giving flowers and gifts at the
funeral it was asked they give money so Sister Marion could do
something good. The group is really effective at being a support to
the kids and caregivers as they struggle through this devastating
disease.

We really appreciated the special time we got to spend with these
kids. It filled us with hope and joy to see HIV positive kids playing
jump rope and running around like normal children (especially after
hearing about the stigma they receive here in Tanzania).

The Next Three Months

After successfully getting our resident visas stamped in our Passports last Friday, David, Chris, Katie, Mabel and I crowded into our Regional Coordinator Joanne’s truck and long time mission Liz Mach’s Rav 4 for the three hour drive north to Musoma for language school. David and I rode with Joanne who has been a lay missioner in Tanzania for over 25 years and for the first hour and half while driving through green fields dotted with mud huts with thatched roofs, we discussed the changes she has seen in Tanzania during her time here. She discussed what life was like in Tanzania while it was a socialist country, how the country has changed since the introduction of capitalism and how things are politically changing as people in Tanzania are starting to become more educated and are “finding their voice politically”. It was a very interesting conversation to say the least.

Halfway through the trip we stopped at a restaurant called the Seregeti Stopover, where we ate lunch and then traded cars. In Liz’s car the conversation was much lighter, most likely due to the fact that for the first 15 minutes of our drive together we got to pass through a small bit of the Serengeti where we all "oooohhhed and ahhhhed" over zebras, wildebeasts and baboons. Our mini safari was cut short though by a torrential downpour that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. There we were squeeling about Zebras (35 year experienced missioner included) when all of the sudden it felt like we were driving though a car wash. It was a very scary 5 minutes of driving, but then as quickly as it rolled in, the rain stopped and we had a peaceful uneventful drive the rest of the way to Musoma.

Since then we’ve spent the last week in classrooms repeating things like“This bug is a mosquito (Huyu mdudu ni mbu) and “This bug is not a mosquito” (Huyu mdudu si mbu).  I know it probably sounds boring, but classes are great and we get through a lot of material quickly since the classroom ratios are 3 students per teacher. This ends up being a blessing and a curse as you get all the attention that you might ever want or need in the classroom but you also can’t avoid having to constantly participate. We both cannot believe how much we have learned in a week.

For the next three months we will be living in the dorms in the language school with other students from around the world. It has been very fun experience so far, playing tennis in afternoon with one dead tennis ball and racquets older than we are, watching movies, playing games and drinking beer in the common room and reading A LOT. Meeting the other students has been enjoyable as well. One of our favorite people so far aside from our other MKLM people is a nun named Sister Susan from Chad who loves watching soap operas. David especially likes practicing his French with her. (As if practicing Swahili all day isn’t enough for him)

Language school has actually been quite pleasant so far. The 5 hours of lessons per day can at times be grueling, but we know that they are important. Please pray that we continue to grow in our Swahili language skill as this will make the biggest difference in how well we will eventually be able to connect with the people of Tanzania.

First Week in Mwanza

The teary goodbye at SeaTac.

It’s been one week since Caitlin and I stepped, literally, off of the plane and onto the soil of Mwanza Tanzania.  Like Peter we weren’t sure exactly what we were getting into, but trusting in those who had followed the call before us, we went.  Although harder tests of faith are sure to come, this week has been a week of challenges but also many rewards as we begin following Yesu Kristo in Tanzania.

Storks, bumps and fettucini.

We arrived early on Friday morning and undertook our biggest challenge so far- staying up another 12 hours after flying 32 hours in order to adjust to the Tanzanian time zone.  Most likely the lack of sleep exacerbated the bumpy roads, ugly storks and foreignness of the land we are now calling home. Needless to say, although we were excited, our first day was a bit overwhelming.

However, the next day, New Years Eve, we began to settle in and get adjusted.  We had a subtle, but fun New Years Eve celebration drinking wine and sharing stories with others of our new Maryknoller family of lay missioners, priests, brothers and sisters (one of whom has been here since the days of the British in the 1950’s). The community was very warm and welcoming as they shared about how for 3 years they have been waiting and praying for MKLM to send them new lay missioners. It was very clear that they were all excited to have some fresh blood in the region.

At midnight the neighborhood children began marching/running around the neighborhood chanting “Happy New Year” or something in Swahili and banging pots, pans and plastic jugs. Many kids stood at the gate of our house and yelled “Happy New Year!” to us in English and then in regular Tanzanian child fashion, followed the greeting with, “Give me my money!” In all, we surprised ourselves by being able to stay awake for the dawning of 2012 in our new hometown.

The next few days were a blur of visits to all of the mission sites, talk of modems and cell phones and resident visas and a couple of visits to some not so Tanzanian restaurants. We spent a lot of time in the car, driving through the craziness that is the streets of Mwanza. The major roads are paved but swarmed with people walking and pushing carts of fruits and vegetables , people riding motorcycles and bicycles, and cars that prefer the creative driving method and dalla dalla buses that are constantly pulling over and then pulling back into the road at random. Just riding in the car is an adventure and I haven’t even talked about the side roads yet.

Downtown Mwanza looking rather subdued.

The roads around the house in which we stayed in Mwanza are dirt and seem to change from day to day depending on the rain. They are marked with potholes, deep ruts and grand canyons on the worst days. Driving over them is a full body workout at times as it takes all of your core muscles to keep your body from bouncing like a rag doll against the windows or the people sitting beside you.

Huruma School

Although the car rides were taxing they were well worth it when we arrived at our mission sites. David’s school, Huruma, is up a long and VERY bumpy road in the hills. The surrounding area is actually one of the most beautiful places in Mwanza. The land is red and scattered with large boulders and cement house with tin roofs. It looks almost like how I would imagine the surface of the moon would look  (except with lush vegetation and farm plots scattered everywhere). Huruma School is in a new three room building. There are two traditional classrooms with desks and chairs and then one multi-purpose room that serves as both a wood shop and physical therapy room.  We were given a tour of the school by Andrew, the mwalimu mku (head teacher) and talked about the students schedules.  He also showed us the very large canyon that the surface drainage has made in their driveway which will be a big obstacle for the dala dala (public transportation) to bring the students who can’t walk to school.  Shida Kubwa! (Big problem!).

The Grand Canyon in the driveway at Huruma School.

Caitlin’s school, or chekechea as they call preschool in Tanzania is on the opposite end of town at St. Francis of Assisi Parish in Butimba. Like Huruma it is also in a very beautiful area. The two classrooms are nestled into a shady green sanctuary on the property of the church. Although it is only a about a mile outside of the heart of the city it feels very quiet and peaceful once you are in the gates of the parish.

Caitlin was happy to meet her Mwalimu Mku, Grace who showed her around her two classrooms. The rooms were pretty bare at first glance, but upon closer examination of the shelves that bordered the room, there were several sets of math, science, and literacy manipulatives that piqued Caitlin’s interest. Caitlin was also very happy to find out that although the teacher’s are Montessori trained, they are very open to her ideas. As one of the other Maryknoll Lay Missioners explained, “In Tanzania, ‘Montessori’ really only means that the teachers don’t hit the kids and make them memorize everything”. These are clearly two notions that Caitlin can really get behind.

Overall the week was marked by the extreme hospitality of George and Michelle Otte and Joanne Miya, our fellow team members who have already been living here.  George, a resourceful foodie, managed to find the ingredients for such things as omelets, pasta primavera, coffee cake and, the best, shrimp fettuccini (with a little help from the parmesan cheese which Katie Reid brought from the states).  Mind you this is no small feet in a town where vegetables and meats are bought in open-air stalls in the middle of a field. 

George and Michelle's house.

Now we are at language school (more on that next post) and trying our best to not butcher the language.  We miss and love you all and hope you enjoyed hearing about our first week.  Please continue to keep us in your prayers and of course send any emails or facebook messages with news from home!!