You Know It's Cold When...

(Inspired by our recent trip climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro)

You know it’s cold when…

·   You have to really scrape to get little flakes of butter and you must carve your peanut butter in order to put some on your toast

·   You are thankful you bought hiking boots a size too big since you need to wear 2-3 pairs of thick socks every day

·   Your air pillow is deflated by the middle of the night, and it’s not because there is a leak

·   Your -10⁰ C (14⁰ F) sleeping bag is just not cutting it, and you have to put your down jacket and a fleece around your feet

·   You wear your balaclava (face mask) to bed and in combination with your hooded sleeping bag, you resemble a ninja mummy. See picture.

·   You put all your clothes for the next day in your sleeping bag with you to keep them warmer and yet it still feels like you stepped into a refrigerator when you add those layers on in the morning.

·   You don’t have a cold, but your nose runs 24/7, thereby creating a scaly Rudolph nose by the end of the week.

·   You don’t have to move your toothbrush up and down or right and left. You just have to put it in your mouth and let your shivers do the rest.

·   The choice between going to the outside toilet to relieve your bladder or staying in bed and having your bladder keep you awake all night suddenly feels like a life or death decision, and you spend at least 20 minutes deliberating.

·   Your teeth hurt every time you sip normal drinking water, and even the tiniest pills are hard to get down because your mouth seems to go into hypothermic shock when you try to swallow said water that quickly.

·   You change your underwear right when you get to camp because it is the warmest part of the day and exposing that much skin once the sun goes down seems ill-advised.

·   Your muscles are sore, but the thought of Icy-Hot is repulsive. Why would you want anything icy touching your body?

·   Even lukewarm beverages and dishes are steaming, and you can see your breath during normal conversation. Thus, the dining tent soon has the ambiance of a hookah lounge.

Class Trip to the Serengeti

If you have ever been a chaperone on a youth trip, you know that youth trips, even to tourist destinations, are not the same thing as vacation. This weekend was evidence that this truth is universal ;-) That being said, we were delighted to have some time with Form 4 (senior class) students outside the bounds of the school. Here’s a little peak out the Senior trip to the Serengeti:

Day 1

The original time of departure on Saturday was 5:45am. Thankfully we got the message the night before that the bus wasn’t going to be able to get there that early—new departure time: 8am. Like good mzungu (white people) who are still figuring out when time is fluid and when time is strict, we arrived at 8am. The bus however didn’t arrive until 10am, because they had wanted to wait for a full bus of passengers to take to Shinyanga before starting their next job. Time isn’t money here. Money is money.

By 10:30am we were loaded up and on our way with five other teachers and the fifty Form 4 students that could afford the trip— the students were expected to pay the equivalent of $30 US dollars. The bus is not like buses in the U.S. with an aisle. Each aisle has a seat that folds up and down, so that five people can fit across comfortably. We fit six on each row. Everyone had packed lightly, but even still the bus was packed to the max. (Side note: we thought we had packed lightly, and we had for us, but Tanzanians take it to a whole other level, washing clothes to be re-worn again another day).

We were expecting the trip to take about 7 hours (2.5. to Mwanza, 3 to the Serengeti entrance, and maybe another 1.5 into the park). We made it to Mwanza in good time, but since we had left late and the Serengeti park gate closes at 4pm, we were still in a rush. Lunch consisted of a box of cookies per person, a soda, and a water bottle, because that is what Philemon (the Assistant Headmaster) could buy quickly from street vendors while the bus filled up on gas. Then we were on our way again. By God’s grace, we arrived at the gate at 3:58pm. Whew! Praise the Lord! It was only once we entered the gate that we began to realize our time estimation was way off. We were in a bus, not a Land Cruiser, which meant we were practically crawling over the bumpy roads of the Serengeti. Plus the Youth Hostel was in the center of the Serengeti, which by crawling bus was 7 hours away from the entrance.

Let me paint the picture for you: For those of you who are international travelers, imagine a 12.5 hour flight. Now, take away the leg room and imagine that you are sitting on a wheel, so your feet rest a foot off the floor and your thighs are at a 45 degree incline (this was Linda’s situation). For entertainment, you have Tanzanian music videos and a Tanzanian soap opera on one central TV, but only for the first 5.5 hours because for the next 7 hours it is too bumpy for technology. You get one bathroom break the entire time, which consists of doing your business in the middle of nowhere with a dozen others of your gender around you. There is no privacy in a time crunch. At one point during the trip, your group is attacked by a band of tsetse flies—the really bad ones that can cause Trypanosomiasis, aka sleeping sickness. Thus all the windows are closed, and you get to enjoy your own personal unventilated sauna with fifty teenagers. Getting (smelling) the picture? Good times ;-)

Yet, with all of those challenges, the students behaved beautifully! We didn’t hear any complaining. In fact, one of the students asked Linda if she was tired. She confessed yes and that her body was aching from hours of sitting in one position. The student then encouraged her, “You have to be strong.” We were amazed at the strength of the students and the teachers. During the travels there were some really special moments, such as the students breaking into an impromptu hymn-sing, seeing a band of lions sleeping on the road, and being led down the road for many kilometers by one particular zebra who liked running in the light of the bus. It wasn’t until we stopped the bus and turned off the lights for several minutes that the zebra went on his way.

We arrived at the youth hostel at 11:30pm. Given that it was so late, the students were sent to bed with some bread and butter for dinner. Accommodations included a large room with bunk beds for the boys and one for the girls, with boys’ and girls’ cement outhouses nearby.

Day 2

The next morning everyone was up by 6:30am bathing, cleaning, and preparing meals. The youth hostel provided a place for coal fires and some large pots, but we had brought everything else with us. Since everyone had had very little food in the last day and a half, we made the first meal the main meal. The girls worked very hard preparing the cow meat and fish cooked in a tomato sauce, as well as a giant pot of rice. By noon, everyone had eaten, all the dishes were clean, and we were on our way to tour the Serengeti.

For many of the students, this trip was their first time to see any of these animals. There are no zoos in Tanzania. They were mesmerized! I think we enjoyed watching the students as much as we enjoyed watching the animals. Since most of them did not have cameras, Eric became the class photographer and students will be able to pay to have pictures printed. This opportunity got a little out-of-hand at some points, as we were mobbed by students wanting us to take their picture ;-) We did love their enthusiasm though.

We also stopped by the Serengeti tourism center. The students and teachers were placed into three groups as tour guides led them through the complex, teaching them about the animals and the environment. The center had bones of various kinds of animals, emblems of their footprints in cement, and descriptions of various animals and land conservation efforts. The guides were very knowledgeable, and the students asked them lots of questions. The center even had its own wildlife as dozens of hyraxes and mongooses scampered about. They were obviously very accustomed to visitors.

That evening we had some of the drama that one might expect out of a trip like this—items going missing, issues of appropriate boy/girl relations, trouble settling down after a big day, safety issues, etc. I see all you youth ministers out there nodding your heads in empathy. We got very little sleep that night. However, that night also held one of our most special memories as well. After dinner, Eric got out his guitar, and we led the group in song and devotions. We loved singing with the students, and we pray that throughout the trip they heard grace from us.

Day 3
The next morning we were once again up with the sun, preparing some left over rice and tea for breakfast, and dealing with some remaining drama. By 10am we were packed up and on the road. We found a better road coming back which cut an hour and a half off our trip. Because the road was less known, the driver did have to stop and ask for directions once from a very accommodating “rastaman,” as the students termed him. Our new friend enjoyed the attention as the students with cameras took pictures of his dreadlocks. When we arrived at the Serengeti gate, we ran into a bit of trouble, because apparently they were supposed to charge extra for ex-patriots, even working ones. However, since the entrance gate hadn’t caught it, they let us go this once. Good to know for future reference.

We were so encouraged by what good time we were making that Philemon decided to stop and get a hot meal for everyone for lunch. It took over an hour to get chipsi mayai (fried eggs and potatoes) for everyone on the bus, but it was a nice treat. We ran into our biggest travel problems in Mwanza, where we got stuck in traffic that resembled a parking lot. Thus, the trip back actually took longer than the trip there. Thirteen hours later, at 11pm we finally arrived back at the school. We never ceased to be amazed by the energy of the students. While we looked and felt like something the cat dragged in, the students were as jubilant as ever. They cheered as we drove into the school and were already exchanging stories with their classmates as we headed home. We are thankful for their joy. 

What God Is Teaching Me: How To Live Simply

This post is a tough one for me to write, because I’m still not very good at this lesson—at all. However, this topic has been rolling around in my head since we moved to Mwadui, so I figured it was time to put a few of my thoughts down in print. It’s a struggle for every missionary: “How ‘Western’ do I live?” There are large variations in the answers, and there is no “right” answer.

·   Some are naturally adaptable and live exactly as the people in their community. I admire these folks, and there are significant advantages to this lifestyle as it allows them to better see through the eyes of the people and understand the needs. However, these people are rare, and there are unique challenges to this lifestyle. For example, what do you do when your health or the health of your children is in jeopardy? How do you maintain financial support without modern conveniences?  How do you successfully adapt to the culture shock, which is extreme in general, but even more extreme when giving up all familiar experiences and technologies that keep you in touch with family and friends in other parts of the world? If you plan to return to a Western environment, how do you readjust?

·   Some recognize how difficult living in extreme circumstances can be, and they try to make their home a refreshing haven for themselves and their families. This allows them the emotional health to continually reengage in a draining ministry. For example, a family we came to know and love in Nigeria bought a standing pool for their children. They lived in a city where bombs went off regularly, and sometimes their children had to stay home from school for days due to various real threats. The pool gave their children a sense of normalcy and fun in the midst of trying circumstances. Even in less extreme circumstances, some missionaries recognize that certain Western conveniences and hobbies help stabilize their emotional health and make them better people and servants.

·   Some buy Western conveniences so that their time is more efficient and they can give more time to their ministries.

·   Some buy Western conveniences to be shared and used by the local community who would not otherwise have access to such things.

·   Some utilize Western conveniences because they know their children will someday live in/receive education from Western countries, and they want to familiarize their children with this other world.

·   Some use their resources to become a retreat center for those who are live more simply. 

·   And for many, their decisions are a mixture of these principles.

I have found that each situation, culture, and missionary is unique, so to place judgment on others without having walked in their shoes is both hurtful and unjust. However, on a personal level, this topic has been both challenging and convicting for me. “How ‘Western’ will I live?”  

I recently read a book called “Missions and Money,” talking about the complexities of wealth among missionaries. I’m not recommending the book, because it is intensely law-oriented and put me into depressive tailspin of “I’m a terrible missionary, and I should just give up on being here, because I might be doing more harm than good.” Thankfully, a good infusion of gospel brought me out of that, and though I don’t agree with everything in the book, there were many passages that provided food for thought. This passage gave a label to some of my tendencies:

“The word that perhaps best sums up the plethora of secular values which influence all North Americans – including missionaries – from infancy throughout life is consumerism, the way of life established upon the principle that the great goal of human life and activity is more things, better things, and new things; in short, that life does consist in the abundance of possessions.”[1]

Consumerism. Our entire economy in the U.S. is built around it. If everyone in our country was content with what they had, I fear that our economy would crash. Can you imagine a Christmas where everyone decided the gifts were not necessary to celebrate our Savior’s birth? I did not realize until I moved here how much a part of my psyche this is.

I understand that sometimes buying something new can be better than something used. We have been in a three-month battle with our used refrigerator that sometimes refuses to cool. And sometimes, we all buy things for the same reasons as mentioned above—to be used so that we have more time for ministry, to be used in our work and ministry, to be loaned to others, to give us a space to emotionally, spiritually, and physically recharge, to create a retreat and safe space for other people… Yet in Tanzania, I am learning the value of living simply. And though I don’t always succeed, the quest to live more simply is one worthy of undertaking.

In the Bible, Jesus gives just warning to the rich that we can put our trust in things instead of God. Physical wealth can lead to spiritual poverty. In 1 Timothy, we are warned that the love of money (and not just money but the things which it can buy) is the root of all kinds of evil. And yet, in the Bible we also see some examples of the “righteous rich.” In the story of Abraham, God told Abraham that he was blessed to be a blessing for others. The primary meaning of blessing in this context is spiritual blessing, but at the same time Abraham was by no means poor. His resources could be used to help others. The resources in and of themselves were not evil.[2] So how do we keep greed at bay and use our blessings to be a blessing to others? It’s not easy, especially for those of us who have grown up in a materialistic culture. For me, one helpful tool has been when I buy something to ask myself, “What need am I trying to meet in buying this?” “Can I meet that need with something simpler or with something I already have?” “What impact will this purchase have on others in my life and on my ministry?”

Like I said, I’m a work in progress. There have been many times that Eric and I have purposely bought the simpler item or not bought something because we decided that the alternative, while nice, was not necessary. And yet, we also recognize that we still have a lot of things that our Tanzanian friends don’t. We pray that through the financial blessings we have received, we can be a blessing to others.

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[1] Jonathan J. Bonk, Missions and Money, (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books), 34-35.

[2] Thanks to this blog http://reports.heartcrymissionary.com/coordinator-blogs/the-righteous-rich-can-wealth-be-used-to-glorify-god-part-2/ for the insight about Abraham

What God is Teaching Me: How To Let People In

One of the first pieces of advice we received from staff at Global Lutheran Outreach was “try not to be as independent as you are used to.” That advice has been repeated many times since then.

It’s true that independence is greatly valued in the United States. Our infrastructure illustrates this value.  I recently came across this quote from the book In Pursuit of Loneliness as I was reading Jonathan Bonk’s Missions and Money:

“We seek a private house, a private means of transportation, a private garden, a private laundry, self-service stores, and do-it-yourself skills of every kind. An enormous technology seems to have set itself the task of making it unnecessary for one human being ever to ask anything of another in the course of going about his daily business. Even with the family, Americans are unique in their feeling that each member should have a separate room, and even a separate telephone, television, and car, when economically possible. We seek more and more privacy, and feel more and more alienated and lonely when we get it. What accidental contacts we do have, furthermore, seem more intrusive, not only because they are unsought but because they are unconnected with a family pattern of interdependence” Slater, In Pursuit of Loneliness, 7.

I’ve always been an extrovert who enjoys getting to know people, but lately I have realized that this quote bears some truth in my life. I am accustomed to a lot of privacy and doing things for myself. Thus you can imagine what it was like when we first moved here and we had to ask for help with everything-- transportation, meals, medical care, washing clothes, shopping, and language. Moving to a new culture in some sense requires becoming a child again. Suddenly you are not the independent adult you thought you were. You are the dependent little kid who has to ask someone how to do… well, everything. As we learn and begin to figure out how to do these things for ourselves, it is tempting to say, “No thank you. I don’t need your help,” but we’ve realized that when we do, we deny ourselves the opportunity to build a relationship.

Hiring someone to help with time-intensive chores has also proven to be a significant shift in our lives and perspective. Over time, Omary has become like a member of our family, and yet having someone consistently in the house was and continues to be an adjustment. When someone is in your house for many hours a day and shares every meal with you, a great deal of vulnerability is required. It’s hard.

When Omary first started working for us, every time I would leave the house, I would lock the door to our bedroom. Somehow having someone in our private room seemed too personal. However, one day I asked him to wash all the windows. When I returned, I realized I had forgotten to lock the bedroom door, and there he was washing the windows. The boundary had been crossed. I don’t regret it. Omary has proven himself trustworthy on many, many occasions. However, letting a person who is very different from me into my life and personal spaces feels risky. What will he think of me? Of my various habits? Of the messy parts of my life?  I want to only show the good sides of myself to Tanzanians, but by letting someone into my home, I have removed the possibility of hiding my darker moods. Omary, more than any other Tanzanian, has seen both Eric and me at our best and at our worst. He can tell when I am angry or sad, when I am obsessing about something I shouldn’t be obsessing about, when I am sloppy, when my perfectionism takes over, when I am being a control-freak… He sees it. And he takes it in stride.

In the U.S., we also seemed to have more control over our social sphere. If I wanted to visit with someone, generally we would set up a get-together in a restaurant, coffee shop, or sometimes my home. If someone was invited into my home, it was generally at a prearranged time. I also generally knew how long the visit would last and could graciously excuse myself if I needed to continue on with my other activities of the day.  People didn’t tend to just stop in, and no one, outside of our immediate family, had daily access to our house, our own private sanctuary.

And yet, with a change in culture, we too must adapt. I wish I could say that I’m comfortable with friends just stopping in to say hello, but it still remains difficult for me to lose that sense of control, to shift gears from what I was doing to the relationship at hand. Tanzanians are known for their sense of hospitality. As a cultural norm, guests are considered a blessing—no matter whether they were expected or not. My parents got to see it first hand as twice during their visit, we stopped by a friend’s house to introduce them-- with no prior warning-- and our Tanzanian friends welcomed them warmly, with juice or soda and even a snack. Tanzanians also have the custom of accompanying the guest part of the way toward their home, as a sign of wanting to spend as much time with them as possible. We try, but I think many Tanzanians have realized that we are not as skilled at hospitality as they are. Yet they treat us with grace, knowing that we are learning and growing in this area. We continue to learn from the people who have let us into their homes and lives.

What God is Teaching Me: How To Go With The Flow and Love In The Moment

Very often here the days don’t go as planned. Today was case-in-point.

My plans for today included:

o   hymnal translation

o   errands around Mwadui

o   take our night guard, Peter, to pick up his wife and new baby at Kolandoto Hospital

o   get the car to the shop to have our wheel repaired after it was punctured yesterday

o   make some calls regarding an entrepreneurship seminar for villages around Maganzo

o   prepare for the class I am teaching on Friday

o   go to choir

My plans changed when:

Omary was sick, so we went to the doctor and waited 2.5 hours.

Eric called me to let me know he had misunderstood the time for picking up Peter, and we discussed a new timeline for the day.

The pharmacist was at tea, so we had to come back for the medicine.

I had to make an unexpected stop by the school, because at the hospital, the accountant asked me to drop off the bill for some other students.

I returned home with two kids because their parents, staff members at the school, wanted me to drop the kids off at home (very near ours).

The phone calls were impossible because Airtel, our phone network, was down.

When I took Peter to pick up his wife and baby, I discovered that they don’t live in Mwadui, but rather in a nearby village. Instead of the careful, tarmac-driving I was expecting to do with our spare tire, I ended up driving cross-country. I am not talking about “the roads were so bad, that it felt like no road.” I’m talking about literally driving over grass and avoiding rocks. Those who know me well know that I was not blessed with a natural propensity towards driving. This excursion was WAY out of my comfort zone.

About the time that I felt like I should let Eric know what was going on (if Airtel was working again), I discovered that I had accidentally left my phone at home. I had no way to communicate with my partner in life.

After making a pit-stop to pick up a friend of Peter’s family, we finally made it to Peter’s house. Knowing that I needed to get back, Peter decided to take a “short cut” to Mwadui’s back gate. I, however, was completely unaware of this plan. Peter speaks no English, and somehow the information got lost in the language barrier.

After more off-roading and minimal-roading, we arrived at the back gate. Even after we found the guy with the keys, we discovered that one of the locks was broken. The gate could not be opened.

We started driving the road around Mwadui, which was a treacherous, mud-covered mess. We got stuck, twice. The first time we managed to get out with just a little maneuvering, but the second time we were really and truly stuck. Naturally, it was the last big mud puddle before the front gate.

I found out that Peter had the number to Gasper, the school’s driver, so we asked him to come out and help. Twenty-five minutes later the car was out, but not without added damage. Something had been knocked loose and was dragging on the ground. Gasper fixed it enough to be able to drive it to the shop.

I would like to say that I was gracious and loving throughout this whole ordeal, but by the end of it, I struggled to keep back the frustrated tears. It was all I could do not to take my frustration out on those around me, and accept Peter’s thanks for my help.

I did get the final thing on my list accomplished, but only because Eric was able to borrow the school’s truck to drive me to choir. Our vehicle was still with Gasper at the shop. Some good news out of all this was that our tire repair and whatever other repair they made only cost us $6. Sometimes Tanzanian prices are a beautiful thing.

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This is an extreme example, but the changing of plans is a common occurrence here in Tanzania. Changing of plans is also common in the U.S. I think the difference is that Tanzanians expect it and handle it beautifully. I do not. According the Myers-Briggs personality test, I am a J, which means that I like to have order and structure in life. I can handle a lot if I know what to expect, if I am “emotionally prepared” for it. However, there are times when you can’t prepare in advance. I continue to pray that as I acculturate, my “P side” (flexibility) will flourish, and I will be able to be more like my Tanzanian friends. I want to be emotionally present and loving at times when things simply don’t go as planned.