Back Home

Back home, doing ok.

My first flight was great, the layover and second flight were aweful thanks to malaria and whining children (not crying children, they just whined the whole damn way).

I'm now resting, recovering, and reminiscing.

thanks for the support!

Its the Final Countdown... II

I woke up around 4:00 a.m. today and feel great. No stomach cramps, no other digestion problems, I'm definitely going to try to fly home today! My plane leave Dar es Salaam at 11:00 p.m. so I have all day to say goodbye and to pack.

Quite frankly I'm amazed I recovered so quickly! Every other malaria victim here at LJS was taken out for at least a few days. I seriously feel almost 100%! Thank the Lord!


Top 10 List of Things I'll Miss From Tanzania

10- African Time: I like the slower pace of life here. You take your time to do things that have to be done. I didn't even really need a watch while I was here. It is a drastic change from
American time, where I schedule about every single minute of my day.

9- Swahili: I really like Swahili and it is something I definitely want to pursue in the future. Its a fun language and useful everywhere in Africa.

8- The Maasai Village visits: The Maasai are so welcoming and friendly. Even though they don't have a lot (materialistically) they don't hesitate to make us feel at home. They always give us chairs to sit in, more food then we could ever eat, and they will walk or ride many kilometers just to give us the luxury of soda. They also don't hesitate to give large offerings to the church. There giving nature and humble spirit is very inspiring.

7- Morogoro: Its so weird going from 'the bush' to Morogoro. Its like a big city but you can still tell your in Africa. There are all sorts of different people, different shops, and new experience to be had every time I go into town.

6- The Animals: I'm going to miss all the animals. I loved going to Mikumi and will definitely come back to Africa to go on another safari. Just about every day while I've been here I've discovered a new and exciting bug on my way to the dining hall. I think I miss most of the bugs here... except the mbu (mosquitoes).

5- The Music: The music is amazing! I mean the native Tanzanian music, not the silly rip offs of crappy American pop (see 'I love the way you do me' for reference). But I will be able to take a small piece of it home with me, I'll be bringing back a Zeze, a sort of Tanzanian guitar.

4- Worship: I hope I don't get too bored with church services back home. The services here are super exciting and you can tell everyone is having a good time praising the Lord. I will miss the dancing, the singing, and the goats in church for the offering.

3-The culture: Despite what some of you think, I really do like Tanzanian culture. It has its downsides (like every culture), but it has many things I want to bring back to America with me. Respect for elders, greetings, closeness within the family, I could go on and on and on.

2-The Land: I love the mountains and the warm breeze, the rain and sunshine, the trees and flowers. Its going to be quite a shock going back to snow...

1-The People: Everyone here at LJS is amazing. I've made some really great friends (both Tanzanian natives and other students) and its going to be really hard to say goodbye. They are so friendly and genuine. I know I'll see some of them in the future.

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High: I feel really good this morning, I just hope it lasts for the next 36 hours as I travel.

Low: I have to leave Tanzania. Its going to be hard.

Well thank you everyone for reading my blog, e-mailing me, writing me letters, and everything else you have done to support me. I'll put a short blog letting yall know that I got home safely. Otherwise, I think this is just about my last blog! Thank you, its been fun.

Guess who's got malaria?!

So, I know I haven't posted in a while. I've been uber busy doing all sorts of stuff and getting ready to go home. Actually, yesterday I was finalizing a very long and detailed post about the past week but a few things got in the way.

Last night PH took me, Kim, Luka, and Rob out to dinner for my going away "party". We went to an Indian restaurant, and if you know me, then you know curry and I don't go well together. I ordered a dish without curry, but when I woke up at midnight with sever stomach cramps I assumed that there was some curry contamination.

The pain was intense. I spent about 3 hours screaming into my pillow and running to the bathroom. On the pain scale of 1-10 I think I was at 8 for a good 5 hours. At tea time the Germain doctor Karina stopped by my room to see how I was doing. She recommended that I take the malaria meds. even though we didn't know what was wrong with me.

At noon we went to the clinic and I got tested. It came back positive with a parasite count of 4, the highest count so far this semester at LJS, I WIN! They gave me a really big injection into my butt to fight the pain, and it worked great! I sung songs the whole way back to LJS.

Most of the day I had a fever around 102 and it finally went down. This afternoon I was able to drink a coke and I even went to dinner!

Hopefully by tomorrow my dirreaha will have completely left and I will be able to fly back home!

Wish me luck!

High: Almost everyone here at LJS has been super supportive! Teresea, Rikka, Upendo, and Padre came with me to the clinic and have done way more for me then I can describe in this blog. I have also enjoyed the company of many of the other students who have stopped by to wish me good health. Thanks especially to Paulette who came and chatted with me for quite a while and was able to take my mind off the pain.

Low: Malarai... it sucks.... it sucks real bad.

p.s. sorry if todays blog rambles on or doesn't make sense, but I'm a bit out of it...

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

The Good
I had a great week of classes last week. I split teachers from Kim and can move at my own pace. PH said that most Wartburg students don't make it past lesson 40. The 40 test wasn't that bad and it looks like I might reach 50 or 55.

The Bad
I didn't make it this far because I am so incredibly smart... I was moving too fast for my own good. I don't know all the vocab I should, and now in the higher lessons they are throwing 12-18 verbs per chapter at me, and just oodles of nouns.

The Ugly
Moving to fast has come back to bite me in the butt. I'm going to have to really work hard to get all the vocab, might even have to spend a full day of just review.


The Good
I am having a great time with EVERYONE at LJS. We are a great group, good dynamics, and we really care about each other. I hang out most with Teresa the Texan and Padre Sandro the Priest.

The Bad
Scott and Lu are gone. I was devastated after they left. Scott was probably my best friend here for quite a while and by they time we really got to know each other, he had to leave.

The Ugly
I already miss Tanzania. I'm not even gone yet! I still have 2 weeks! But it is going to be really hard to leave.

The Good
I went to Dodoma this weekend to visit Audrey and Paul. Kim came with as well. The bus ride there is the best bus ride I have had here in Tanzania. We had seats in the very back. They were large seats with tons of legroom and place to put my humongo bookbag. While at Dodoma we ate good food, watched good movies, had pleasant conversations, and it was all around an amazing trip. I got to interview Paul and Father Tim about Missionary life in Tanzania. You probably have noticed that some of blogs have been focused around the flaws of Tanzanian life, society, and culture. But Father Tim was very inspiration. He has been here 25 years and is still going strong. He renewed my faith for the future of African missionary life, I plan to put some of his stories and comments in future blogs.

The Bad
Teresea had malaria all last week. She was very weak and spent two nights in the hospital. Don't worry, it was not as bad as Scott's case. It wasn't life threatening but still, very serious. The medicine they give you for malaria is called quinine. It is super powerful and makes you loose your hearing and sometimes vision. Exactly 1 hour and 30 minutes after Teresea takes her pill she looses her hearing, almost completely. On a funny/wierd note, when she looses her hearing it is replaced with a buzzing sound. But the sound is one pitch and it was driving her crazy. She is a very musical person and her mind replaced the solid pitch with a short little melody. Unfortunately, the melody was on a loop in her head and is driving her even more crazy. She sung the melody for me and it is pretty annoying, I'll sing it for you some time if you ask me. I'm not sure if it was just the pills talking or if she is truly insane, but she described the melody as "being whistled by little Irish men". How she knew the people whistling in her head where Irish... I don't know. How she knew they were little men... I don't know. But I do know that she is flippin crazy.

The Ugly
Now it is not just Teresea that has malaria. Karinna, the German doctor, got malaria shortly after. Also, this weekend, while I was away at Dodoma, Padre and Upendo got malaria. They caught it early and are doing very well. The will be fully recovered in a few days. Now there is only 4 people here at LJS that have not had malaria. Luckily, I am one of them. But I don't know how long that will last. Padre said when he went into town to pick up his medication, every pharmacy was out! He had to go to this scary one in a slum somewhere to get his quinine. He said there were government cars around morogoro with loudspeakers telling information about how to prevent and treat malaria. It must be an epidemic. And with malaria, the more people that have it, the worse it gets.
Also, just as Teresea was staring her health upswing, her father died. Teresea is 45 and her father was in failing health. She knew that when she came she might not see her father alive again. She got the call Saturday night. She is in pretty high spirits, but definitely grieving. It also does not help that she is too sick to fly and will not be able to make the funeral. Please pray for her, she needs all the support she can get.

Low: Teresea's father dieing. She was in such bad condition already... I hope this doesn't turn here away from mission work entirely.

High: Dodoma was a nice change of pace after some very intense studying.

p.s. I have been trying to take pictures and upload them to my facebook album, but for some reason it is not working. In three hours I managed to get 1 picture up! I guess I'll have to wait till I get back in the states... only 14 days of Tanzanian bliss left!

A Techno African Hoedown

On Thursday I took my Book 1 exam. I didn't miss one question in any of the 10 sections except the section that deals with subjunctive imperative/indicative phrases, where I missed almost all of them. I can't tell you what they are in Swahili... hell, I can't even tell you what that means in English. Lets check Webster's New World Dictionary for an explanation:

subjunctive - adj. LL subjunctivus. gram. designating or of the mood of a verb that is used to express supposition, desire, hypothesis, possibility, etc., rather than to state an actual fact (ex.:the mood of were in "if I were you")

imperative- adj. LL imperativus. gram. designating or of the mood of a verb that expresses a command, strong request, or exhortation.

indicative- adj. Fr indicatif. gram. see also indicatory

aneurysm- n. when an artery in the brain spontaneously bursts. Reason previously unknown by American Medical Association, now known to be caused by subjunctive imperative Swahili phrases.

On Friday PH rescued us from classes and we went to a far away village. It was almost 4 hours away and we entered the jungle area of Tanzania, located in the south east. We were in thick jungle, going up and down huge cliffs and mountains, dodging monkeys and pineapple vendors. But soon we hit the plains again and entered the village. During the service the confirmation class was confirmed. After they took their first communion they sang a song and all of their parents and relatives greeted them in a big mob and decorated them with some things very close to those big flowery Hawaiin lais.

Saturday was a fee day so I had time to relax, study, visit the shoppes in town, and a bunch of us went out to eat. But after we came back Kim and I went to go ask PH about the situation mentioned 2 blogs ago. It was pretty awkward to ask him about it, but some people around LJS were quite upset with him and I thought it would be better that we asked him instead of someone else getting angry and accusing him of things. It turns out he as just really swamped with work at the time and any time students at the foreign language school ask him for help he immediately puts a wall up. He was the director of the school for a very long time and retired a number of years ago. But the Tanzanians won't take responsibility for themselves and run their own program, so he is trying to force them to ween off his influence by not taking more responsibility then necessary. He was also unaware of the urgent nature of the situation. All in all, it was just a big misunderstanding and everyone is at ease here @ LJS once again.

Sunday was very interesting... We went to a village that is built around a school. The funding comes from the states and have they have over 200 students! The church was GIANT, it was as big as some of the churches at home. We were warmly greeted, as always, and had our tea and biscuits. After that we entered the church and watched as the choirs performed some preludes. There were two choirs, each with about 50 people. One choir was all school students. They had matching uniforms that were, well... hideous. I would have hated to wear their uniform. It was a sort of canary yellow shirt and these awful swamp muck green pants. And I would describe the shoe as brownish black clunkers. They sort of looked like the shoes I would imagine Frankenstein would wear. The other choir was of Maasai children from the surrounding area, dressed in regular Maasai garb. The church had a generator that supplied power to the Toshiba electric keyboard which was hooked up to massive speakers. It was the wierdest music I have ever heard. The choir would be singing Swahili words to ancient christian hymns with traditional African chords and structure while the keyboard sort of dabbled in western chord progressions and the pre-set drum beats pumped out an um-pa-pa polka rhythm. All this was at a decibel level loud enough to knock small planets out of orbit. I would describe it as a techno African hoedown. It was so wierd.
But the highlight was the dancing. One girl in particular was amazing, she even got to solo in a few songs. At one point the choir knelt down and she was the only one standing and she did this weird thing where she would shake her shoulders really fast and jump and swing her head back and forth... it is hard to describe, but it was amazing. The whole church was clapping and cheering, it was quite the spectacle. After the service I was all excited to practice the Swahili I had learned the week before but all the students wanted to practice English with me! So I talked with many of them for about an hour and we had a great time.

Monday we started classes again and had a pretty normal week. Unfortunately, it is the sisters' last day today as well as Scott and Lu's. The sisters have been here for about a week longer then I have and are almost done with the books. But its time for them to start work at their assigned stations. I'm going to miss them, they were a lot of fun and good study buddies. But I am really going to miss Scott and Lu. They have been really great friends and we have bonded a lot. It is going to be terribly hard to see them go, but we will definitely keep in touch.

Last night we went out to dinner and had burgers and beers and played a little pool. But after we got back I started to feel sick. I went to bed around 10 but had a hard time falling asleep because my stomach was really hurting me. After I finally got to sleep I would wake about every 20 minutes to either clutch my churning stomach or run to the bathroom. On a funnier note, at about 2 in the morning I was on my way to the bathroom when I started to think I was having a hallucination. But my eyes were not deceiving me... at 2 in the morning Baba John (Grandpa John in Swahili), the old senile Dutchman who live a few doors down was in his underwear sweeping the walkway. Baba John is very very old and has a very hard time sleeping and I'm pretty sure he only takes naps. But on a serious note, this morning Padre Sandro, my catholic priest neighbor, came and apologized to me. He said he felt bad because he didn't come and check up on me last night. I asked why he though he had to check up on me and it turns out I was screaming in my sleep. I hope I didn't scare him too bad.

Unfortunately, I'm having such terrible stomach problems that I wasn't able to Join PH, Luka, and Kim on the village visit today. They are also spending the night in the village, which seems like an amazing opportunity but I just couldn't handle it in my current condition. I'm hoping its just food poisoning because I've seen what malaria can do to a person!

Low: Stomach problems. And I know I am really sick because I started to crave country music today... whats that about?

High: I'm going to separate from Kim on Monday and get my own teacher. I really like the language and now I can move at the pace I want to!

Clarifications and Bacon Cheeseburgers

I just wanted to clarify some things about my last blog. First, thanks everyone for the input, good and bad, concerning my last blog. I have gotten more response about my last blog then any of my others. If you haven't given me your opinion yet, please e-mail me and let me know what you think.

Secondly, all those stories are completely true. No slander, no bs, they really happened. I also plan to talk to PH about his reactions, so look for that in the future.

Third, looking back it does have a mien of disappointment, frustration, and anger but it is not to condemn Africa or to bite the hand that feeds me. It is just the way I felt, and I do know there is hope for the future.

Finally, unless you have been here in Tanzania and have seen the poverty and the wealth, the happiness and hopelessness, the healthy and the ill, the black and the white... I don't think you can even fathom the situation- I can't, and I've seen a lot of it already. So sorry for any misinterpretations, just e-mail me with questions and comments.

______________________

The past few days have been pretty good. The Internet and power have been on and off, no biggie.

***Scott Watch: Day 10***

Scott is back to his old self. He is doing well in class, coming into town, playing cards, speaking in his funny accent, etc. He was so grateful to finally have his health that he decided he needed to eat a good western meal. We went to the New Acropol Hotel, which had the highest concentration of white people I have seen in Tanzania besides the airport. It seemed to be a hotel for business people; or could have just been a hotel for people who talk constantly on their cell phone, who carry a briefcase and laptop, and dress in really snazzy clothes. At the hotel was a very western restaurant. For starters he had a big plate of nachos and I had deep fried zucchini. For the main course Scott had a 10" beef pizza which was fantastic. And I had (remember I'm in Morogoro, Tanzania) a bacon cheeseburger. It is definitely among the top 3 meals I have ever had in my life, beaten only by some of my Mom's mac & cheese and my Dad's chicken noodle soup! As it turns out, Scott's stomach wasn't back up to its normal size so he couldn't finish it, and my burger was so big i couldn't help him at all. So we gave the leftovers to Kadege who really REALLY liked it.

Swahili lessons are going well. Kim and I will hopefully finish book 1 today. I really hit the books last night and rocked this mornings lessons! But some aspects of the language are really frustrating:
1- every single verb starts with the letters KU- and needs to be conjugated for every noun/subject.
2- almost every noun and adjective can be turned into a verb... ya, crazy I know.
3- Even though most of the words are primarily vowels, certain vowels don't like to be by each other and change randomly.
4- most native speakers do not speak grammatically correct. This is especially fun when I'm trying to buy stuff in Morogoro.
5- Sometimes small invariables (such as from, in , on, at, etc.) are implied and never mentioned. For instance when I want to say, "I study Swahili in the city of Morogoro at Lutheran Junior Seminary and I really enjoy it", it is sort of said like "I study swahili enjoy Morogoro Lutheran Junior seminary". Whats that about?

Regardless of all that nonsense, I really like the language.

Sorry there isn't much more the today's blog, just not a lot has happened.

Low: Omega, my teacher this week, pronounces his 'L's like 'R's and vice versa in both Swahili and English!

High: Bacon Cheeseburger, with fries, and a nice cold Kilimanjaro Lager! MMM-MMM GOOD! Also, Padre Sandro - the Catholic Priest that smokes like a chimney, drinks like a fish, and swears like a sailor- is a hoot. I'm learning a very large amount of Italian... although most of the words are expletives.

What is with this country?

***Scott Watch - Day Seven***

Well Scott ended up spending 3 days and 2 nights in a hospital. He came back Wednesday night. Looking back at the whole fiasco is both humorous and scary. Humorous because we really bonded as friends despite the rotten circumstance. But it was mainly scary because he was very close to death, for real. I'm not being over dramatic- if he would have stayed at the 2nd hospital or had a parasitic relapse Scott would have died. But he was able to tough it out with the help of European doctors, Chinese pain medications, and an American friend. Here at LJS he is making great progress- he is able to eat real food, drink fluids other then water, and he was able to take a standing shower yesterday. The day before that I moved a chair into the shower for him and stood nearby in case he passed out or tipped over. He thinks he will be back in class Monday and everyone is looking forward to his complete return.

As for me... I don't know what to think of Africa.

I love and hate this country at the same time. Let me explain...

We have started our "cultural orientation" classes lead by Chooma, the school director. At first it seemed like he was going to teach us practical rules of etiquette and society. But it turned out to just be Chooma's ideas of what Tanzanian society should be like, or what he wants us to believe Tanzania is like. For example, one of the biggest topics for discussion was the concept of relationships. Relationships, explained Chooma, are at the heart of every aspect of Tanzanian life. In greetings you do not say 'Hi' or 'Hello' you say 'Habari gani?' or 'What is your news?'. You are supposed to show genuine interest in others and find out how they are doing- as a person, as a friend, as a fellow human being going through the same trials and tribulations as you. While this initially seems a noble and earnest endeavor, the true motive is a selfish one. Chooma explained that you greet everyone you meet because later you might need help from them. He gave this example- Lets say you are traveling through a town and at a gas station you greet a few strangers and see how they are doing, you form a 'relationship' with them. If you blow a tire out or lose your way you can go back to them to ask for help or directions which they most likely willingly give. But if you did not greet them and form a 'relationship', when they see you the second time, in need of help, they will say, "You did not show interest in me until you needed something, there is no reason for me to help you".

I have many problems with this hypothetical situation. First off, that is not a real relationship. This pretend act of empathy is just selfish subterfuge aimed and getting complimentary compensation. While I have no problem with watching your own ass and making sure you have what you need to live day to day, why bother with the silly guise? The other major problem I have with this hypothetical situation is in the statement "you did not show interest in me until you needed something, there is no reason for me to help you". Really? No reason at all to help another person out. Isn't there a certain Son of God that was here about 2000 years ago who would beg to differ? Christ calls us to be servants to others, it doesn't matter if they are your friend, your enemy, a random guy in the gas station that didn't pay attention to you, it could be anyone. And so what if you don't get compensation or even a thank you.... "Your Father who sees what you do in secret will reward you." Matthew 6:6

Unfortunately, this sad hypothetical situation has many factors that stem from real life here in Tanzania. Here just a few stories:

Audrey's boyfriend, Paul (who invited us to Dodoma a few weekends ago), witnessed a car/truck crash once. At first, it seemed like everyone was helping the victims. Everyone stopped their cars and got out. People came from their homes at the sound of the crash, and shoppers and bystanders came from the streets to surround the accident. But they weren't interested in helping the injured vehicle owners. People started to open up the vehicles looting and pillaging. They stole all the packages from the back of the cargo truck. They siphoned out gasoline, stole the batteries, mirrors, anything that could be sold. Meanwhile the 2 drivers from the crash sat on the side of the road bleeding to death. One man had a gaping head wound and the other was in shock, both serious conditions that would have ended their currently overlooked lives. ...

C.P.P.S. (mentioned in previous blog) is a Catholic water well drilling organization, but they also give food to needy families. They only have the funds and resources to give food to the people who absolutely need it, the ones who literally have nothing. They will give these families paper vouchers so they are able to cash it in at the food bank. One woman has the unlucky job of going around and choosing who gets the paper vouchers and who doesn't. She also goes around to check that the people with the vouchers are as desperate as they say they are. On one routine check up she found a family with a voucher for milk for an infant. Surprisingly at the food bank the mother never came with her infant and occasionally sent a 15 year old boy to collect the milk. As it turns out, the 15 year old boy was the infant who at one time needed the milk. But now he was old enough to collect the milk himself. The family was also in good enough condition that they didn't need a voucher, or any food assistance for that matter. The mother was confronted and told that there are thousands of mothers who have infant children that can not supply healthy breast milk and are in desperate need of assistance. The mother, in her defense, said that the 15 year old just liked the milk. On another voucher check up, a family that at one time had nothing was found to now have a house with brick walls, electricity, and running water! But every week they would dress down, come begging to the food bank, and collect groceries. Their utility bill, that they themselves payed, was probably 10x more then the value of the food they recieved for free. And here is the kicker- all their neighbors, the ones who lived not 50 feet from their house, lived in shacks with little to no roof, no electricity, no vouchers, no furniture, no food, and no water. So everyday while this family gorged themselves on the cache of charity food and clean water under lamp light, they could look out their window and see their neighbors eat dirt. Both families, obviously, had their vouchers torn up. These are also not unusual cases, this is a common occurrence. ...

And its not just the Africans with this mentality, it is anyone who stays here too long. One of the language school students, married with one child and in her late 20s, had a miscarriage. She was bleeding quite terribly and needed desperate medical attention not only to save her reproductive organs, but to save her life. Audry and Kim went to Pastor Hofferman for help. They said, "Pastor Hofferman, one of the language school students had a miscarriage and is bleeding. They need your help." Then Pastor Hofferman said, very nonchalantly, "Doesn't someone else have a car? Right now I'm getting the money ready to pay the workers. It will be about 3 hours." Pastor Hofferman, a man with a western upbringing, a man who knows how desperate the situation is here and has seen the effects of humane negligence, a man who was a BIOLOGY major in undergrad, told them to wait 3 hours. Audrey and Kim walked away stunned, what do you say to something like that? He was probably the person most capable of helping in that situation and THAT was his reply?...

Stories like this kill me. What is it about Africa that does this to people? If you witnessed a car crash, who among you would want choose to steal a car mirror worth $3 over saving someones life which is priceless? When you have the capabilities to be self sufficient and already have more then you need, would you choose to illegally obtain free food or let someone have a meal that would otherwise die? If you had money, education, and more then adequate resources would you let a woman with a partial fetus still in her damaged uterus bleed to death in her bathroom or would you take her to get medical attention? What is infecting the Africans, making them act in such cruel and insensitive ways? I don't know. It is NOT poverty, many of the people who choose the actions are not impoverished. It is NOT lack of knowledge, many of these people are educated enough to adequately assess the situation. It is NOT lack of religion, many of these people are our Christian brothers and sisters. Is it greed? Is it heartlessness? Is it the devil himself?

I came to African to for many reasons. One of the main ones was to find out if I would enjoy being an African missionary. But these problems are too big for me. How could a just and loving God allow us to treat each other like this? When we are given the capability for love, compassion, intellect, and wisdom why do we so often choose the opposite? Why don't we listen to the call of Jesus? Why don't we follow God's will? Why are we so damned selfish and evil?

Sorry if this seems like a beat up on Africa blog. America and many other countries commit many of the same acts. But its what I'm thinking about and its what I'm currently experiencing. Its easy to sit here and point fingers and feel sorry for myself and other people. Its much harder to muster up the courage to try and change the world. Please pray for me and everyone who needs the power to choose good over evil.

As always, my high and low:

High- Scott is back and rapidly returning to normal.

Low- Even though Africa is such a wonderful place, I don't think I have the personal stamina to be an African missionary, which is something I have dreamed about my entire life.

__________________

This was written on Saturday, today is Monday. My mood has definitely improved, no need to worry :).
Yesterday, we went to a Maasai village in the midst of conflict. Now the Maasai are relatively well off (money wise) as compared to most other indigenous Tanzanian tribes, but this is only because of their cattle. Recently, the corrupt Tanzanian police force has been stealing cattle from the Maasai, confiscating it in the name of the government. There are multiple reasons for this. The low ranking police force then sell off the cattle and make quite a bit of money. The higherups then buy the land that Maasai can no longer afford because they have no income. This illegitimately bought land is kept by the rich or given to friends, or friends of friends.
One man's entire herd was stollen just a few days ago. So when we were there, most of the Maasai men were in the bush hidding their cattle incase the police came back. This conflict resulted in much distress in the village women further resulting in demonic posession. I have now seen my 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th posession. One of which happend right next to me. We were kneeling down for communion and the woman next to me started scratching my arm. When i looked over her eyes were rolled back, she was started to scream and hit the people around here. Some of the other women carried her outside and prayed over her. The other 4 women had similar experiences, one of which flopped on top of her baby, hurting its leg.
Today, Swahili lessons are going well and Scott is back in class. I also want to say a seperate thank you to everyone who has been sending me e-mail and reading this blog. Its nice to know that I have you guys backing me up!

Low: REALLY hot last night and I'm still scratching off my mosquito bites in my sleep.

High: Almost done with chapter 30 in my Swahili lessons. I don't think I'll finish all 60, but I'll be pretty close!

Cultural Saturation

***The internet is finally working, after about 2 weeks of nothing. The last post was actually 2 weekends ago, the following if from this last weekend***

On Tuesday we received about 10 new students from all across the globe who have come here to learn Swahili for various reasons. Some will take it back to their country, some are just interested, but most are going to work at a missionary establishment of some sort in Tanzania. There are two Germans, Mr. and Mrs. Dinkle, who just happen to come from Neundettlesau- a Bavarian city I spent a week in May term of my freshman year. So we have had a lot of fun talking about good ol' Deutschland. Also joining us are two south Koreans who I haven't really met yet, more to come later I'm sure. Teresea is a nurse from Texas who is just a blast to talk to and study with. Rikka is Finish midwife who is introverted but very fun. I have also picked up some neighbors on my dormitory block. Padre Sandro from Italy is a priest who is by far the most interesting Catholic I have ever met. He drinks and smokes and refuses to where the priestly get-up. He is an extreme liberal and works in Kenya. The Kenyans love him and I've heard he is doing amazing things for the ecumenical Christian community. There are also two Scottish people here as well, Louise and, ironically, Scott. Scott and I have already become best buds. He is 22 and we hang out all the time, study together, and we have had some very interesting adventures.

After a hard week of studying the teachers decided we need a little enjoyment. So 5 of the teachers/workers took Scott and I to a concert in Morogoro on Friday night. At least they told us it was a concert... it turned out to be much more then that. We left our rooms at about 8:30 and the taxis didn't come until about 9:30, so we had lots of time to talk, practice Swahili, etc. Ironically the place where we were going, the place that we waited over an hour to go to, was a 3 minute drive from LJS. Once we got there we paid (and by we I mean that Scott and I paid, the Tanzanians kind of mooched off us, so it was pretty expensive night, as far as Tanzanian Shillings go anyway), found are seats, and waited for the show to start. We were the only white people there. Generally, whenever I'm in Morogoro I see a few of my melanin-deficient brother mixed in with the crowd. But this was obviously a local dive, and not really a place you would see missionary workers if you know what I mean. I ordered a round of drinks for everyone and the band "Acudo Impact" started play. It was explained to me that the genre of music that "Acudo Impact" plays is called 'hyani wapya msitu wa'zamani' or 'new monkey old forest'. Its is supposed to be modern music with contemporary melodies but with a strong to tie to tradition African music. But I would place it in a genre closer to "heavy downbeat with loud whistles'. Apparently they are one of the top bands in Tanzania so it was pretty fun. But the most entertaining thing was the dancing. When we dance in bars or clubs in the States it is more thrusting and very sexual.

But in Africa everyone just dances with everyone and its a lot of good, generally clean, fun. And it wasn't just teenagers and twenty year olds, it was EVERYONE! I think there was a kid I talked to who was about 15 and there were also old ladies dancing with some of their old lady friends. And you don't have partners, you just dance with whomever is around you. Guys with guys, girls with girls, old ladies with prostitutes, whoever.

Scott and I also tried our hands at dancing. At first we were nervous, but we decided we couldn't be that bad at dancing. We talked ourselves into it and mustered up courage to go onto the dance floor. We were tall, white, and bigger then most of people there and as we walked onto the dance floor we felt like quite the pair of studs. But we soon learned that Africans are WAY better at dancing. I swear every Tanzanian comes out of the womb knowing how to dance and look good doing it. I danced the tradition white guy dance- here is how you do it, so pay attention closely:
1)pump your fist in a vertical motion alternating with the beats
2)never EVER move your feet, pretend they are encased in cement. Although, occasionally it is acceptable to bend your knees slightly
3) constantly look around to see if anyone is watching you dance but never make eye contact. Your head should swivel so much that you resemble some sort of deranged prairie dog looking for predators in the savanna.

For an example of the white guy dance you can go to any bar where there is a music and white people, it is the most common of all dances among Caucasians. I'm sure I looked ridiculous but next to Scott I felt like Fred Astaire. Scott has what doctors call rhythm impairment- its the worst case I have ever seen. Every one of Scott's limbs move at different times and NEVER did they EVER move in rhythm with the music. The song could have lasted for 5 hours and not once would have hit a single beat. Needless to say we didn't dance very long, but we had a great time observing and taking in the culture.

We originally thought the dance party/live music/beef kabob extravaganza would last until 12:00 or 1:00 in the morning- so Scott and I just enjoyed the music and atmosphere expecting to go home shortly. But 12:00 turned into 1:00, 1:00 turned into 2:00, 2:00 turned into 3:00, etc. We finally begged and pleaded with the teachers to let us go home. So Absalom, reluctantly, brought us back to LJS. I got to bed by 4:30. As we left, the band, who had been playing for nearly 7 hours, was still going strong. The African's were also dancing their butts off with no signs of stopping. I found out the next morning that the teacher didn't leave until 6 a.m. On the car ride home Scott was having a hard time breathing, we all just thought he was a really tired. Little did we know it was a warning sign of much worse things to come...

Saturday I went with PH and some American well drillers (who are currently staying at LJS) to the Maasai cattle market. This time I knew a lot more Swahili so I was able to chat, barter, and buy like a prow. I also brought my camera along (check the facebook page). Kim had left Thursday to go to Zanzibar with Audrey and Paul to the International African Music festival. I would have gone, but with my severe shellfish allergy Zanzibar is not the place for me. While I was jealous at first, I'm positive they did not experience anything as culturally saturated (or as fun) as me. So she wasn't at the cattle market this time. It turn out that Maasai men are a lot more prone to talk when there is not a female around. I, once again, had goat, but this time it was DELICIOUS. This is probably the 4th or 5th time I have had goat and it is really starting to grow on me. I especially enjoyed the liver. A big chunk of goat liver dabbed in salt... mmmm, nothing better.

Sunday I went with PH, the Bishop of Lutheran Church of Tanzania, and about 8 other wachungaji (pastors) in a very small truck to a mountain village that was 3 hours away. The first service we went was short but very exciting. We had a procession through the whole town with all the villagers, the ministers, and the Bishop in his regalia. He had a giant ebony staff, he was wearing many different colored robes, and had a huge popeish hat on. At that service there were two choirs, one of which had many people and a small diesel generator that powered their electric guitars and keyboard. It was great music and dancing. The second service we went to was a small church but with more people and it took an average amount of time. I sat next to a 13 year old boy named Barracka who spoke fluent English and translated the service for me. He introduced me to his friends and we had a lot of fun. On the way home I luckily did not have to sit in the cramped Wachungaji truck. Instead, Luka was driving a huge truck that we used to transport about 30 members from a nearby village. This included one secondary school girl, probably age 15 who made me promise to come back and marry her after she was done with school. We got back to LJS around midnight where I found Scott in a pretty terrible condition.

Scott had been feeling ill for most of the afternoon and they took him to the hospital. His malaria test came back negative and his urinalysis showed a tract infection. He took some pills and came back to LJS. Shortly after he threw up the pills. When I came into his room to see how his day was his eyes were bloodshot, his skin was clammy and pale, and Teresa was holding a bucket for him. I stayed with him for about an hour and went to bed after he seemed to be in a stable condition. I woke up multiple times to him throwing up and moaning in pain. We (Riikka the Finish student and I) took him to the 24hour clinic for his follow up appointment at 6:00. By that time he was having major stomach troubles going both ways if you know what I mean. The doctors concluded he was too sick for their capabilities and we transported him to Morogoro's big, central, government-run hospital. We registered him and got a doctors appointment shortly after. He was moaning and writhing in pain and the doctors sent him to Ward 9, the semi-serious ward. He was in a wheelchair being pushed by a nurse, I followed by his side, and Riikka was going to the pharmacy to get medication. Once we got to Ward 9 I almost lost it. Scott sat in his chair barely conscious and the nurse had gone to the nurses station to find a non-existent empty bed. The very first bed, the bed Scott was directly pointed at, had a corpse in it. It wasn't really the first thing we wanted to see coming to a foreign hospital with an unknown serious illness. After reassessing Scott's condition letting us stare at the corpse for a good 5 minutes, he was bumped up to Grade 1, ICU. The nurses really didn't do anything and for the 7 hours we were there and the doctor visited him once. All they did was give him cover up drugs so he would be fine for 2 hours then explode from both ends. And poor Scott was so weak and dehydrated he needed help standing up and cleaning himself... and guess who got to help with that... OH, and they don't use toiled paper... just your hands and a bucket of water. Needless to say our friendship reached a new level.

Karina, the German doctor who is also a student at the language school, came to assess the facilities and immediately decided he had to be moved. She contacted a minister from her missionary program who came at once to help us transport Scott to a competent medical facility just north of Morogoro. It was a lovely privately owned hospital that, with little prodding, performed all the necessary tests and procedures to help Scott recover. His 3rd malaria test proved positive with count of 3. Apparently the degree of malaria is measured in a parasite count. Scott had a very low number of just 3, natives can have counts in the 200s! But for wazungu (white people) just one will take you out. After the source of the illness was discovered his spirits improved dramatically and the correct medication started to turn his condition around. He was soon stable and I was dead tired. I had gotten only about 5 hours of sleep in the past two day and now I was running Scott around Morogoro. I'm very happy Riikka and Karina were with Scott because I was of little to no use by the end of the day. Karina volunteered to stay with Scott so Riikka and I could come back to LJS, shower, eat, and load up supplies to bring to them. It took about 3 hours for us to get everything we needed because Chooma (the school directory) and the kitchen matron were hellbent on preparing a special rice uji (porridge) for Scott to eat that apparently is the best thing for a sick person to eat. To me it just looked like watery rice, but it took 4 people 2.5 hours to make it so it must have been pretty damn magical! We got back to the hospital at about 10 and found Scott in a much improved condition. He was no longer throwing up and only having a little trouble with the backdoor. Karina stayed with him the whole night (unfortunatley he was only allowed one overnight guest) and the next day, today, after Swahili lessons, we brought Scott some supplies and Karina came home with us. Scott is able to spend the night by himself. He is almost fully functioning and we are looking forward to his return tomorrow.

Back at LJS, Audrey and Kim had returned from the international music festival on Zanzibar Island looking tan and happy. Audrey was very thoughtful and bought some CDs that I am able to rip to my computer. Swahili is going great and I am thankfully in a very health condition although, I am pretty tired.

Low: Listening to Scott scream and roll around in pain. I felt totally useless, there was nothing I or anyone could really do for him except hold his hand and puke bucket and wait for the medicine to kick in. He was in very critical condition for a while and gave us all a freight.

High: Scott is finally better and I can't wait to have him return. Please, everyone, pray for him and everyone else here at LJS.

I Love the Way You Do Me...

This last week has been quite intense. Our Swahili lessons are starting to get challenging. Before it was a nice slow pace that allowed me time to absorb the language, take in the sites, live with no worries... hakunamatata. But now we are going at a breakneck pace- learning 15-30 vocab words per lesson (2 lessons a day), tenses are flying at us faster then killer bees on a honeycomb snatching baboon, and to top it off the power and internet are out. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but my candle is burned out, my flashlight bulb burnt out, and night time comes too fast- leaving me very little time to study.

When we aren't studying or in class some of our favorite pastimes are playing volleyball, chess, discussing politics/culture, and, my personal favorite, napping. Last week we played some volleyball with most of the teachers, Anna the German kindergarten teacher, a few secondary school students, and Sister Judith. Just so you know, nuns aren't the most athletic people in the world. So if your looking for a competitive high endurance game you do not want a nun on your team. While it was fun, Sister Judith's main contribution was praying a prayer of thanksgiving for the ball not hitting her in the face.

This week, before our volleyball game, Kadege, Omega, Kim, and I wandered around the compound for a while. We went to the school shops which sell quite the potpourri of items- fruits, pencils, candybars, grammar books, tampons, you name it. We bought some sodas and got to talking about Maasai culture with Kadege. The path to manhood for a Maasai boy is very interesting. The most interesting (and what I believe to be the most terrifying) stage for a Maasai boy is circumcision. It is NOT like American circumcisions. It is a big celebration where everyone gathers together to eat, drink, and be merry. At least the onlookers are merry, I'm not sure how the boys feel. The age of the boys who get circumcised at these celebrations is usually between 8 and 15 years old! There is no anesthetic and they are not allowed to cry, wince, or show any sign of emotion or they risk dishonoring their family. Can you believe that?! After they get nipped, they spend the next three days drinking medicated soup so as to avoid infection. Their relatives also give them the gift of cattle and goats which are more precious than money to cattle based Maasai society. Overall, it was very enlightening conversation and one I will not soon forget.

We finished the evening with a game of volleyball, ate dinner, did a little studying, and then went to bed. The next few days were pretty normal, just Swahili lessons and studying. But this weekend has been a blast! Audrey invited Kim and I to Dodoma where she and her boy friend, Paul, live and work. Dodoma is the capital of Tanzania and is, ideally, a 3 hour bus ride from Morogoro. But as we were waiting at the bus station a storm hit. It was raining pretty bad and after the first hour we hit a traffic jam. A vehicle had slid into the ditch and hit a power poll, knocking it into traffic leaving power lines strewn across the street. As we sat there a large group of people gathered around the fallen power poll. They obviously wanted to lift the lines off the street but were afraid to touch the wires. One man mustered up the courage and touched the line. There was a bright flash of light and he exploded into a million pieces. Just kidding, the line was dead and soon the traffic was moving again. Besides the traffic jam the bus ride was pretty miserable. The window leaked and my entire right side was wet for most of the trip. There was a television on the bus, but what they were playing was awful. The first hour and a half was a terrible movie called "Runaway Boys" which was about two boys who ran away from home and then worked in a city. Thats about it... the dialogue was awful, the scenery was terrible, the actors were ugly, and the plot was nill. During the traffic jam the radio was playing the great Tanzanian R&B hit "I Love the Way You Do Me". Here are some of the lyrics:
I love the way you do me, do me, do me,
I love the way you do me, do me, do me,
(drum solo)
(bass solo)
I love the way you do me, do me, do me,
do me, do me, dooooooooooo me.
Enchanting isn't it? I'm sure that ingenious band will win at least 5 grammies.

The next hour featured music videos by the worst jazz band I have ever heard. Well at least they said they were a jazz band, but it was more of a dirty-mariachi-grunge ensemble. Then, the piéce de résistance, there was an encore showing of "Runaway Boys"! YAY! Overall, we left for our three hour bus ride at 5:00 and made it to our place in Dodoma by 11:00 p.m.

Despite the sour start to our weekend adventure, Dodoma was amazing. We stayed at C.P.P.S. which is Latin for something... I don't remember what that something is, but they are part of the precious blood ministries, which is a world wide catholic missionary organization. C.P.P.S. is a very large compound with many different buildings. Their main function is building windmills to pump water for wells they dig for villages around Tanzania. To date they have built almost 700 windmill pumping stations. There is also a primary school, seminary, and home for a few nuns.

Paul has lived in Tanzania for the past 10 years and is an amazing person. He has never really stayed in any place too long. He travels the world learning language after language, earning basically nothing, and just living day to day. While I don't find his lifestyle particularly appealing, he is a dynamite person to talk to. He has had many interesting experiences and yet is an incredibly humble person. Paul is also a very gifted artist and photographer. He also opened up my eyes to another aspect of Tanzania I never really thought about.
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Tanzania is, as I hope you know, a "third world" country. It is a dog eat dog world, survival of the fittest, pick your cliché. And when missions and organizations try to hand power or control over to the Tanzanians it quickly goes down hill and dissolves. Before talking with Paul, I was angry when I would see white foreign mission leaders ordering around black native workers, as if they knew what was better for them. But truth be told... the Tanzanians have a very hard time organizing themselves. The head honcho at C.P.P.S. is a priest named Father Tim and when he is gone, like this weekend, Paul is in charge. But if Paul were to leave, even for one day, things would quickly get stolen, broken, sold, etc. Most Tanzanians have no sense of future, they do what they can to live for today. Sure that may mean ruining an entire drilling operation by stealing metal drill bits, undoubtedly ruining the future for thousand of thirsty people, but the thief would have food on their plate tonight. And although there are other options to theft, there is nothing easier or more efficient. Even more distressing, it isn't just a Tanzanian thing, its not even just an African thing, its a poverty thing. How do you fight something like poverty? You can't throw money at it, education doesn't always break the cycle, its hard to find long term service providers, like Paul or PH, who sacrifice their cushy Western life style and come to Africa to work... what can you do against such impossible odds? I tossed and turned all night while thinking about this. It has given me a pretty dismal outlook for the future of missionary and foreign aid ministries. Even in a wonderful place like C.P.P.S. I found myself depressed and saddened by this terrible dilemma- the best thing for Tanzania is for Tanzanians to govern themselves, use their own labor and resources, accompanied by foreign aid, and get themselves out of poverty - but because of poverty they are trapped in a very strong never ending cycle of theft and corruption, unable to build a foundation for their own success. ... ....
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C.P.P.S. had three chefs for us there and the food was amazing. Saturday afternoon we went to town and bought cheese (real cheese) from an Indian store. We used to make pizzas which we cooked in the huge stone, wood-burning pizza oven they had. Our rooms at C.P.P.S. were huge and we each had our own washroom with a heated shower. There was also a phone they let me use to call the states, it was really great to hear my family's voices. Overall, it was a stellar weekend where I could just kick back and relax.

On Saturday afternoon I had talked with some of the nuns from C.P.P.S. so Sunday morning I went to a Swahili Catholic Mass at the Church of the Precious Blood. It was surprisingly like American Catholic masses. Saints everywhere, an old priest uttering incantations, holy water, blada blada blada. There was even a small organ. The only think different was that everyone was speaking Swahili and some of the music was accompanied by a drum and rattle.

Our bus back to Morogoro was scheduled to leave at 2:30 Sunday. But when we arrived we saw two buses from the bus company we bought our tickets from on the side of the road, empty. After a brief inquiry it turned out someone had died (I'm not sure if it was on the bus, or just an important person to the bus company) and they weren't running today. Luckily they transferred us to another bus company and we headed out on time. Of course, it rained, so I was once again got wet. But at least there was no television. I got a lot of reading done and by the time I was back in Morogoro I had my mind back into study mode. Wish me luck, I have a full week of Swahili lessons ahead of me.

***Morogoro was out of power and internet again, sorry about the late posting, but not that sorry... you aren't cut off from western civilization. Another Post will be coming shortly***

Ask and You Shall Recieve...

Well for the past 7 days we have had a power outage. It hasn't been too bad- two of the days I spent at Mikumi National Park and the powerless days here at LJS gave me time to study. Although, candle light makes it pretty hard to run through note cards. Another storm hit last night, but luckily we are spending the weekend in Dodoma (city north of Morogoro) so we have power and internet.

On the 30th we went to a village called Usingwe. On the way there PH took a wrong turn down a cow path and we drove aimlessly through the African bush for a good 45 minutes before we decided to turn around. At one point there was a small albeit obvious stump covered in elephant thorns (vicious 2 inch long spikes aptly named for their resemblance to elephant tusks). But being the courageous adventurers we were, we decided to brave the challenge that lay before us and proceeded to run it over at a speed upward of 40 Km/hr. As you may have guessed, it popped our tire and we hobbled our way out of the bush to a nearby village. We folded up the seats and got out the equipment for changing a tire, but as luck would have it, half the pieces, including essential parts of the jack, were missing, YAY! Fortunately, a local who used to work in a garage made due with the tools we had and changed our tire. It took about an hour to get the tire changed so we spent a lot of time talking with the children who had gathered around the car. Actually, Omgea and I spent a lot of time talking to the children, Kim spent a lot of time under a tree trying to not puke. Kim got the same flu that I had the day before. I was able to spend my sick time in bed with a bottles of water and my computer. Unfortunately, Kim had to spend her sick day lost in the African bush, in 90+ degree heat, mobbed by children. It wasn't a pretty site.

Once we were ready to go, we offered to give a ride to a maasai woman and her child who were also headed to Usingwe. The mob of children around the car interpreted this as an offer to give all of them a ride as well. They graciously accepted our imaginary offer and all of them lunged for the open car door at the EXACT SAME TIME. Keep in mind there were already 4 people in the back seat, including myself, and now we were instantly adding 12 children. I imagine from the outside it looked like one of those Japanese train cars where the police officers cram passengers into the cabin so tightly that they look like sardines. But from inside, it was like a scene from Dawn of the Dead when the zombie horde tries to attack. The children were biting, scratching, clawing, ANYTHING so they could get in the car. PH got out and was picking up children and throwing them aside, I was frantically trying to get the door closed, the Maasai women was shielding her child who, of course, was crying, Kim was in the front seat about to toss her cookies, and Omega just sat there laughing hysterically. We finally got moving and made it to Usingwe.

We of course sat down immediately and had tea and bread. Kim was too sick to eat so one of the local men went out into the woods in search of a natural remedy. He came back about 15 minutes later with some tree bark. It was roughly the color of Kim's sickly pallored face except it had dots of green, yellow, and orange mold. They soaked it in water, which turned an opaque grey, and Kim drank the cloudy concoction. At first she was about to charf, but the she felt better. The color returned to her face and she was nearly her healthy self again. That is until about halfway through the service, when she darted for the church door and ran to a nearby bush. As she vomited she had an audience, all the village children ran to the window to stare and point. The children were so loud and distracting we just decided to halt the service and watch Kim for a little bit. After she finished and wandered into the bush, the congregation continued on with the service.

On the 1st, we went to a village called Nngaiti. Within the first hour of travel we popped a tire... again. But this time it happened in a town, right next to a garage. After we changed the tire (I'm getting pretty good at changing tires f.y.i.), we continued on our way to Nngaiti, which is conveniently located in the middle of a vast assemblage of fields, mud holes, and savanna. We offroaded through the bush for almost 2 hour whereupon we luckily stumbled into Nngaiti. The "village" consists of a church, a half-assembled brick house, and a shack labeled "shoppe" which sells warm soda. That is it. I have no idea how we found it, Moreto and Kidege have no idea how we found, even PH seemed pleasantly surprised. Everything was going according to plan until the second half of the service. The sun hid behind some clouds and a turbulent wind rose out of the south unleashing a tempestuous torrent of rain. Everyone crammed to one side of the church fearing the already structurally unsound southern wall might collapse. It didn't and we got thought the service alright, although we were much more wet then when we started. Ironically, one of the biggest prayer concerns was rain for the parched fields. All I can say is -"Ask and you shall receive".

The recent rain made the drive home through the fields fun because all the dirt turned into mud. It took us about 3 hours to finally get home. We had left that morning at 8:30... we got back by 10:30 p.m.

' On Monday the second we quit Swahili lessons after lunch, loaded up the truck, and made our way to Mikumi National Park. Before we were even in the front gate we saw warthogs, impala, giraffe, and a large herd of elephant spanning as far as the eye could see. We checked in, enjoyed a chilled glass of passion fruit juice, and made our way to our rooms. The accommodations were AMAZING. I had my own cabana with a toilet room, shower room, guest bedroom, and master bedroom. Each hut had its own patio overlooking the savanna which always had animals frolicking by. The lodge had two bars, a pool, and the restaurant overlooked a watering hole frequented by animals. But we didn't spend much daytime there because we were out driving in the savanna. I won't say much about the animals, the pictures speak for themselves, I hope to post some of them to facebook shortly. But near the end of the first day we had a very close encounter with a lion. Heading back toward the lodge, we drove down a road we had just went the opposite way on not 5 minutes before. And there lying in the middle of the road was a big male lion. He was just sitting there, enjoying the sun, taking a nap. We got so close, our bumper could have hit him. Eventually he turned over to see what exactly was going on behind him and slowly made his way off the road to the shade of nearby tree. At one point I could have stuck my hand out the window and touched him. It was great. That night we enjoyed a very western three course meal in the restaurant and went to bed so we could wake up by 5:00 to drink some coffee and head back out into the park. We saw just about every animal, the only thing we didn't see was the rare and elusive leopard. It was by far my favorite thing about the trip so far, rivaled only by the worship services with the African people.

Today, we are back studying Swahili. Its going slowly but surely.

Low: I apparently scratch my mosquito bites in my sleep. My feet and legs are covered in scabs and are bleeding constantly. No amount of bandages or anti-itching cream will stop me.

High: Mikumi park, everything about it was magical. I was really sad when it was time to go.

On My Soap Box

***Continuation of last posting: Maddening Malady - see below***

If you know me, you know I love NPR. One of my favorite radio shows is Intelligence squared, which is an oxford style debate series that chooses a topic and has scholars and experts professionally debate (as compared to the unprofessional shows, such as Bill O'Reily or Rush Limbaugh, that mainly feature yelling and name calling). One debate I hadn't listened to yet was titled "Is aid to Africa doing more harm then good?" This seemed extremely applicable so I started to listen. Before I listened to the debate I thought the answer was obvious- NO, of course not, aid to Africa is a very good thing, we need to do all we can to help impoverished people, right? But I soon changed my mind.

The main debater who thought that aid to Africa was doing more harm then good was George Ayittey. George Ayittey is a native African, President of the Free Africa foundation, and one of the greatest African scholars on earth. I think he was recently voted among the top ten intellectuals of 2008 by TIME magazine. This took me by surprise- why was one of the biggest advocates for social justice saying that the aid to Africa is doing more harm then good? I soon found out.

Here are some facts that I either knew ahead of time, learned from the debate, or found out (and verified) after brief research:

Africa receives about $25 billion/year in aid from all sources combined.

Even though that seems like a large number, the estimated cost for money lost in Africa due to corruption, theft, destruction, war, etc. is $148 billion!

80% of American aid to Africa is spent IN AMERICA. 90% of Chinese aid to Africa is spent in China and only Chinese resources and workers are used.

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So often we believe that the money we donate from abroad goes to the people who need it. I'm as guilty as the next guy, I was living in the fantasy that my money automatically helps lift people out of poverty. But it doesn't. And some organizations don't actually fix the real problem. For example...One activity Wartburg is doing again this year is Feed My Starving Children. This organization brings in massive amounts of rice, vegetables, vitamin powder, etc. and volunteers raise money for the ingredients and come in shifts to package individual meals. Last year we had thousands of volunteers and packages something like 100,000 meals. While this is a great program and is desperately needed for some parts of Africa, it is essentially (in my opinion) just putting a band aid on the problem. It is a temporary fix that only gets the starving people from one pre-packaged meal to the next.

Only 16 of the 54 African countries are democratic. So if you donate through an African government program, or a charity that gives the money to a government program, there is no promise that the dictator or aristocracy won't absorb the money and use it to fuel violence or their own sinful greed. Also, many American charities only donate about 50% of the funds they receive. The rest goes toward 'administrative' and 'managerial' fees. Does that make you as sick as it makes me?!

Overall our aid to Africa system is a bust and needs to be revised. It feels good to just throw money in the offering plate and continue one with our lives. But make sure you know where your money is going. The three most important areas to donate to are, in the professional's opinions, - health, education, and infrastructure.

Health - this is more then mosquito nets and condoms. With 1 in 5 African's infected AIDS/HIV the need for anti-retrovirals is overwhelming. This also includes things like modern machines and technology for doctors to use.

Education- People can't help themselves if they don't have an education. As a Lutheran, my religion has a strong heritage of promoting education. Martin Luther believed that everyone should be able to read and write, so at the very least they could study the Bible. Every major study done by reputable organizations shows that when literacy rates go up, every other positive aspect of life improves with it.

Infrastructure- As mentioned early, only 16 of 54 African countries are democratic. Every civics class teaches us that our most important right as American citizens is our right to choose our leaders in a democratic fashion. If people can't vote, they can't do much else. We need to seek out peaceful diplomatic solutions to establish democracy.

Overall, this is a lot of big talk on my part. But I just became so enraged when I realized how far down in the crapper our charitable organizations are. Just one more thought:

I believe the number one killer in the world is not famine, hunger, aids, heart disease, or cancer. I think it is ignorance. We abuse our bodies, our souls, each other, and the earth when we disregard the truth and choose to sit in ignorance inside Plato's cave. People who were born white and in America often choose ignorance daily by believing everyone is given the same opportunities as them. Some even act under this false belief by not helping those in need while defending their greed by explaining that hardworking people can pull themselves up by their own bootstraps. Christians- Jesus calls us to be servants to our neighbor. Give thanks for what you have by giving to those who have not.

Okay... I'm getting off my soap box... wow, I've been up here a while...

On a personal note -
Low: Even though my stomach is settled, I'm still physically weak from not eating and I am pretty tired.

High: Had another Swahili test today, did pretty well.

Have a great day! The first step toward change is knowledge and advocacy. Take this information with you and pass it on to friends, family, that strange guy in the coffee shoppe that smells like fish... whoever, just do it.

A Maddening Malady

For the past two days I have been pretty sick. I'm not sure what I had but it wasn't pretty. I know it wasn't malaria or cholera because (a) I was tested and it came back negative and (b) I'm feeling fine now! I actually just had my first meal in two days. I'm glad I was able to keep it down because I was getting a little loopy from lack of sustenance. My lips hurt pretty bad though, they are all chapped and bleeding because I couldn't even keep down water. Actually, I couldn't even keep down chewable pepto, it was awful. But I don't know if it was worse for me or Kim... apparently Kim (who hopes to be a DOCTOR some day) almost throws up whenever you talk about puking. I think she might have died if she actually saw me throw up.

It all started yesterday at breakfast; I had just sat down with piece of bread with jam and two hard boiled eggs when I started feeling a little weird. I thought nothing of it and went through the laborious process of de-shelling my hard boiled eggs. For some reason the eggs here have super sticky shells and that strange little white skin between the shell and the egg is really thick. Needless to say I was really looking forward to savoring the fruits of my labor, even though they were, in fact, eggs. I took one bite and had to run out of the dinning hall. I didn't even make it to my room before I puked.

*power outage... 24 hours later*

Well there was another power outage so I was unable to journal. It is now Thursday. But back to being sick... After getting sick after breakfast I felt a little better so I decided I was ok to go to Swahili class. Turns out that was a mistake, about 15 minutes into class I needed to find a bucket, and quick. I said to my teacher, Omega, "I am going to be sick, where is the bathroom?". I don't think he understood what I was saying and somehow in my ailing disposition I remembered, "Najisikia mgonjwa" (I feel sick in Swahili). He then understood me and asked one of the teachers something in Swahili. "I AM GOING TO BE SICK, WHERE IS THE BATHROOM?" I insisted, but Omega was still unaware of the urgency of the situation. He continued asking the other teacher something, I think they were determining which bathroom I should go to. Kim, not wanting to see me throw up, yelled, "AUDRY, WHERE IS THE BATHROOM?" Audry is one of the Canadian students in the cabana right next to us. I got up and walked in the direction Audry pointed. At seeing me move, Omega then realized that I meant I was going to be sick RIGHT NOW! He then proceeded to lead me to the bathroom, which was a very, very, long distance away in a sort of an office area. I somehow made it to the bathroom before I threw up. Looking back it was quite comical, but at the time it was very miserable situation. After giving my vomit sacrifice to the porcelain goddess I took a quick malaria test and went back to my room to lie down.

I spent the first half of my sick day on one side of my bed, pressed against the wall in the fetal position, listening to my ipod. Then my ipod ran out of battery. I was so angry that my ipod, my only source of comfort on this God forsaken continent, gave out on me. I felt like Jonah, cursing God for destroying my happy little vine, wishing I could die.

But after I threw up a few more times I started to feel significantly better. My mood improved dramatically, I was no longer cursing God or Africa, and I was able to release myself from the fetal position. I summoned the energy to walk across my 10' room to plug in my ipod and I got some reading done. At noon Audry came back with my malaria results, thank God they were negative! By that time my ipod was fully charged and I listened to some NPR shows I downloaded.

I Bless The Rains Down In Africa...

The rainy season is upon us!

Yesterday there was a short rain while we visited a village called Parakuyo Mgudeni (I'll talk more about Parakuyo later). I thought it was just a fluke, but it rained all morning today. The natives assure me it was no fluke and it will probably rain every day until I leave! And let me tell you... when it rains, IT RAINS! Huge giant mutant water wads that come crashing down physically killing the giant mutant bugs. I found 10 dead millipedes today, death by liquid impact. And the water already broke my Blue Cross Blue Shield Umbrella! But that's OK, the rain is also a blessing because it really cools the earth down. It is like my perfect summer temperature. Meanwhile everyone else is shivering in their long sleeves and sweaters. Sister Meredith was actually so cold she moved from her study cabana to the inside classrooms. It is roughly 75/80 degrees. If this is too cold for them now, I would hate to see them in June during their winter. It probably gets down to 65 degrees... geeze, I hope they don't get hypothermia. (yes I'm being snarky)

But yesterday we visited the village Parakuyo Mgudeni. It started off like any other village visit. Arrival - gawking children - SIT DOWN - tea and fried dough - waiting around - start service. But during one of the choir performance a women had an evil spirit posses her! She started screaming and hitting the people around her. She then flopped on the floor and started writhing in pain. It took 6 people to pin her down and carry her out of the church. After that the service resumed, but from my seat by the window I was able to see the exorcism. She went on screaming, hitting, and writhing for a good 15 minutes. The people around her tried to control her and started to pray over her. And then... it was gone. Mid-flail she just stopped, got up, looked around confused, and asked what was going on. She honestly didn't know what had happened. They explained to her that she had been possessed and brought her back into the church. After that she was fine- she sang in the choir, had communion, and bought some soap at the auction. Now I was very skeptical of things like possessions before I came but this looked REALLY REALLY GENUINE! All I can say is that the mind is a very powerful thing and the spirit is a very powerful force. The image of her crying, screaming, and hitting her children and friends around her will stay with me for the rest of my life.

After the service the auction went great. I bought a gift for my friend Michelle (you'll have to wait 3 months to find out what it is Michelle... sorry). The meal was really good. We, once again, had to eat with our hands. I'm getting pretty good at it, and I only dropped about half my meal this time. The first time I ate with my hands, in Choza, I barely got any food into my mouth.

Well that's about all that has happened the past few days. I had a great Swahili lesson this afternoon and I'm looking forward to tomorrow!

Low: After the morning rain it heats up and the humidity increases. By about 4:00 I die a slow, painful, moist death. Ironically, all the African's take off their sweaters and enjoy the weather.

High: Even though I have passed the "honeymoon" phase of my trip (where absolutely EVERYTHING seems magical and wonderful with unicorns and rainbows and kitten kisses and lollipops... etc) and I sort of fell into the depressive reality phase, I'm still doing pretty well. I'm able to focus on Swahili and keep a pretty positive attitude. But I honestly couldn't do it without all your support. Thank you so much for the e-mails, blog comments, facebook chats, letters, everything! Keep em coming! Love ya!

Climbing the Figurative Mountain

Quitting the mountain hike was the best decision I made this trip. Omega and I wandered the streets and chatted about our two cultures. Our topics included weather, appropriate etiquette, and worldview based on culture. But after all, above culture, age, and political views, we were two guys so the conversation turned rather quickly to women. :) Omega found the concept of pick-up lines extremely hilarious. His favorite cheesy pick up lines were "I'm going to have to call the police on you, because you just stole my heart" and "if I had a dime for every time I saw someone as beautiful as you, I would have ten cents". Then we stopped at a little restaurant and had a soda.

By the way... I don't know if you know this, but I'm white. I mean I always knew that, but it never really hit me until today. I felt like I was walking through the streets of Morogoro ringing a bell and wearing a sandwich board that said "HEY LOOK AT ME!". It was very unsettling, I don't think I could have handled the streets of Morogoro by myself. Thank God Omega was with me. We had a great conversation and I think I have the strongest connection to him then anyone else here in Tanzania.

That is ironic since I came here expecting to build great friendships with PH and Kim. Kim is extremely competitive and, quite frankly, I do not enjoy her company. She is highly critical of everything I say and is constantly comparing our experience to John's experiences. Now I don't know John (Kim's boyfriend) but I'm sure he's a great guy. I have heard wonderful things about him from Kim, PH, Audry, and other Wartburg Students. He came to Tanzania last year and had a great time. But Kim is ALWAYS saying stuff like, "Well John did this, I want to do that", "John bought something like that, I want to buy that too", or an example from today, "John climbed the mountain, but I love to hike and I'm sure I'll be faster then him". She just needs to experience the beauty that is Tanzania for herself. Its not right to constantly compare yourself to other people, our differences are what makes us special! Kim also has the amazing habit of putting her ever growing foot into her even larger mouth, and she is the first to admit that for some reason. I'm not saying she is offensive to the native people here, she is very culturally sensitive. But she is highly critical of me and the other Americans here. She often will say something rude or offensive to me, then feel bad for saying it, and then instead of apologizing will go through point by point of why what she said wasn't rude. She need to learn to quit while she's ahead. ... I just realized I have spent a lot of time talking about my disappointments with Kim. I guess I just needed to vent. But overall we get along fine, we make a great Swahili team, and we both enjoy scholarly discussion about topics we both enjoy.

As for PH, well he is an extraordinary man. He is very kind and friendly and extremely knowledgeable. He is unlike any person I have ever met before. But he is very busy and I don't foresee any sort of non-professor-student friendship coming out of this. But that fine, it just happens to leave me high and dry without an American confidant.

But back to the story, Omega and I had a great time. I really enjoyed our conversations. I don't think I've ever talked to an American I didn't know very well the way Omega and I talked. Its nice to find someone who is genuinely interested in your opinion and when I ask him questions he is genuine in his answers as well. So often in American our conversations consist of one person speaking and the next person just waiting to speak next.

Once we decided we were going to head back, we walked to the taxi station. Then, we changed our minds and decided a dala-dala would be more fun and culturally interesting. These dala-dalas (also mentioned in my 3rd blog entry) were just crammed with people. After my row filled up the dala-dala guy started loading cargo into the isle, then people sat on it, then people sat on other people. Overall, in a large van built to comfortably hold 10 people,there was about 20. Next to me was a one armed man who knew a little English and asked me about Barack Obama. And across from me/ontop of me was a mother and her little girl. I was able to ask the little girl how she was doing and what her name was, but she was too shy. But after Omega bought her a lollipop she started to open up and talk. Unfortunately, I couldn't understand her... she had a lollipop in her mouth.

After we got back, I showered, read, studied Swahili, and spent some alone time. It was great because normally you are just surrounded by people here. I am very happy Omega and I turned around on the mountain. The girls who went on the full hike came back cranky, sore, and sunburnt. Later that night, we watched the Lion King. It was really fun watching it with Africans because they could tell us if any of the words meant anything (i.e. simba = lion, rafiki= friend, etc.). Overall, it was a very good day.

Climbing the Literal Mountain

Thursday I had another great day of Swahili lessons. We had our fist test this afternoon and I think I did pretty well. I'm really starting to love the language. One great thing about Swahili is that even if you don't understand it you can still read it. This is because consonant pronunciation almost never changes and vowels absolutely never do. This comes in especially handy when we are visiting villages, like I did on Friday.

The village was called Choza and the people were very nice. It wasn't very big, people wise, but it was huge land wise. It took us about 20 minutes to hike from the Church area to the nearest home area. We were able to go inside a house, for the first time. Maasai live very humbly. There houses are quite small, but there is plenty of room. The walls are made of mud bricks, or manure, and are reinforced with wooden branches. In the house we visited, there was a kitchen, a sitting room, and the bedroom. The kitchen had many pots and pans, a water basin, and a fire pit. The sitting room had, I think, a few chairs. It was hard to see because there were no windows except for a very small (probably 2"x2") window in the bedroom looking out over the cow pasture. I don't know what the bed was made out of, but on top there was a wooden mat of some sort, and it was very comfortable. Once we got out of the house we all sat on mats outside for a while, while PH talked to the elders. As we sat there, a flock of chickens went by and one unlucky chick walked within reaching distance of Luka. Luka grabbed it and was about to hand it to Kim when the mother hen saw what was going on and freaked out! She spread out her wings, puffed up her feathers, and charged Luka. And poor Luka, who was sitting in a very awkward position, could only roll over in defense. He let go of the chick (and by let go I mean he threw it 10 feet) and the hen backed away. It was one of the funniest things I have ever seen, and quite surprising. I would have never expected a chicken to be so hostile.

The service was nice but the church was PACKED! The building was a large hut with a thatched palm frond roof. The bench we (Joel, Jesse, JoAnna, Kim, and myself) had to sit on was the single most uncomfortable bench I have ever sat on in my life! It was very small and hard. I had to sort of straddle Kim while a Masai boy sort of straddled me, and an elder had his legs smashed up against mine... it was awkward to say the least. We were very relieved when the service ended and we had a chance to walk around during the service auction. The after service supper consisted of rice, beans, and goat.

After the meal I went and played with the village children. Joel, JoAnna, and Jesse were too full to come and play. And Kim... well Kim doesn't like children. Whenever a child comes near she looks at them as if she is staring at an alien. She turns very cold and sort of ignores the child. Its very sad, and quite frankly a shame because most of these children already have a fear of white people and I don't think acting like she does is going to help anything. I just don't understand how someone doesn't like children. But I played with the children and had a great time! Bubbles are just an insane amount of fun. And the stickers were a hit. At first they weren't sure what the stickers were. But once they figured it out, they snatched the sheets away from me and sprinted off into the distance. By the time I finally caught one of the little girls who had taken a whole sheet, half of them were gone. Each child had, roughly, 20 stickers on them. They had stickers everywhere. On their forehead, cheeks, hands, clothes, shoes, trees, chickens... whatever.

On the way home we stopped and picked up a few mangoes and papayas for a snack later that night while we watched movies and played checkers.

This morning, we decided we were all going to go and climb the mountain behind LJS. PH drove us into town and by 9:00 we were on our way. Now I enjoy exercise, I play racquetball a few times I week, I love tennis, weightlifting is okay, blah blah blah... but if you've met me you know I'm not built for long distances. I have a body structure reminiscent of a 2008 Honda Element. Needless to say, the four hour trek up the mountain was going to be a challenge. Of course the second we got in the car Kim started complaining that we were going to slow her down. She does this a lot, and it is really starting to get on my nerves. And whenever she messes up, or slows me down, (like in Swahili lessons... cough cough) she makes some lame excuse. But back to the story... So the second we got out of the car Kim just takes off at a break neck speed. Joel, JoAnna, Jesse, Omega, Kidege, and myself look at each other like, "whoa what is she doing?". So Kidege catches up and walks (and by walks I mean sprints) with her. Meanwhile, the rest of us stay behind and have a very lovely hike. But the challenge of the mountain proved to be too great for me. After about an hour and a half I had to call it quits. I felt bad for turning around, but I didn't want to slow the girls down, they were going just a little to fast for me (at this point Kim and poor Kidege were way ahead, we couldn't even see them). Omega said he was fine with leaving so we walked back down the mountain. The walk back down was, as expected, much easier. At first we thought we were going to just wait for the bus to show up but we decided to walk into Morogoro instead.

Sometimes I feel like somebody's watching me

It turns out my link to my pictures doesn't work for everyone. So if you do not have facebook, and the link doesn't work for you, and you would like to see some of the pictures... e-mail me @ : joshuastibb@yahoo.com., or you can respond to this posting in the comments section, or you can harass my brother until he forwards you the pictures from facebook. Have fun Derek!

Low: Super hot today and a few stomach troubles.

Hight: took my first Swahili test today and I think I did pretty well. Also, I bought some Maasai knife paintings and the ebony wood carver comes today! WOO HOO!

Preaching till the cows come home...

For the past few days we have been able to visit different villages around Tanzania. On Sunday we visted a village called Luvaya. Monday we had Swahili lessons. Tuesday we visited Kivuga and we just came back from Misela.

These vists are such amazing experience for many reasons and that fact that very few outsiders are able to experience it makes my time here that much more special.

When we enter a village they greet us like Kings. The Maasai and other Tanzanians have a degree of hospitality that is completely lost in the west. We aren't a burden, they are genuinely happy to see us. Not because we bring money and gifts, that doesn't matter to them, but because we come as friends interested to see their wonderful homes and families and to worship together.

Luvaya is located just north of Dar. It is one of PH's 124 congregations... did you hear that?! 124! He tries to stop by each at least 2 times a year... you do the math. We took the main road 3/4 to dar then turned onto a secondary (dirt) road north to save time. As we rolled through the bush people had many reactions to us. Those that knew PH greeted us with warm smiles and waved. Some gawked at the site of a truck, in the bush, filled with white people. Some hid their faces. And yet some children ran away screaming, we were the first white people some of them had ever seen. Moreto, one of the Maasai teachers who came with us, told us that the first time he saw a white man he was 12. A car rolled by and he thought ghosts were inside. He went and hid under a rock, literally.

When we left we were in a rush, PH thought we were going to be late. But when we rolled into town.... there wasn't a soul in sight. We got out and soon a crowd of people came to greet us. They immediately insisted that we sit down. It was very important that we sit down. Above all else we were to come inside and sit in the tiny little Kitis (chairs)... I'm not sure why they have this obsession with making us sit down. What do they think we've been doing in the car for the past hour and a half? exercising?

We were each givin a HUGE glass of tea. It was made from milk that was purified in a gord with charcoal. It had a rich smokey flavor and they added ginseng to give it a kick. Along with the tea they always serve small pieces of fried dough. They are like doughnuts without the sugar and are DELICIOUS!

Soon after (and by soon I mean 2 hours) we started the church service. Instead of church bells, the choirs sing to summon the villagers to service. It is amazing music that is sung with such soul and vibrancy. I know there is no written music, and the harmonies are not set either. But Tanzanians just know how to harmonize! Once everyone had arrived we entered the church. They gave us, the guests, the best seats in the house and 2 of the 4 hymnals. The literacy rate is about 25% so they couldn't have used them, but I still felt like they were doing way too much for us. As PH and Luka (his assistant and trained evangelist) went through the service, which was in Swahili, they would whisper the page number so we could follow along and attempt to sing the hymns. It didn't help much, they speak way faster then our teachers do in lessons. But I was able to catch the occasional word or two.

Offering was very exciting. In the states we very placidly pass plates around, sing a short hymn, and in a matter of seconds, its over. But in Tanzania, the choir gets up and dances. The people bring their offering up to the altar. And I am always surprised as to what goes up to the offering bin. Many people chip in a few coins, maybe some bills, but money is hard to come by sometimes. So the people offer what they have. Bars of soap, gourds, melons, clothing etc. And it was really exciting to see CHICKENS... IN THE OFFERING PLATE! If I brought a live chicken (or frozen chicken for that matter) to Grace Lutheran Church back home in Ripon Wisconsin for offering I'm sure a few member of the congregation would have a heart attack.

After the service, all of the non-monetary items are auctioned off and the money is given to the church. In Luvaya, Kim bought a chicken for 3 dollars and donated it back to the church so a family could it eat. She also bought a few kitenges (skirts).

Each village worship/visit follows roughly the same schedule. So to save time I'll give you the schedule and just give the highlights of the trips.
Arrival- SIT DOWN
Tea time
Wait two hours
Service starts
..... 3 or 4 hours later
service ends
Offering Auction
Meal
Play with the children
Goodbyes
Departure


From the time we get there to the time we leave 5-8 hours have gone by. While the service was finishing up today, the Maasai shepherds were coming home from herding, along with all the cattle.

Luvaya (Sunday): It was my first visit, I was able to practice swahili. Food was delicious. Moreto and Kidege (maasai teachers) came with us and were able to lead us through the service

Kivuga (Tuesday): all maasai congregation. AMAZING choirs with the most interesting dances (will expand more in future blogs). Knew a little bit more swahili. I was able to tell them my name, where I came from, and the fact that Holland is a small country.

Misela (Wednesday): Misela is located in the middle of nowhere, Tanzania. We offroaded, literally, for about and hour before we stumbled across the village. While there, I was given much more respect then the girls. They always shook my hand first (if they even shook the girls hands), I was greeted with Shickamo (a very formal and respectful greating by the children usually only given to elders), and during the service I got to sit right next to a very prominent Masaai elder. He personally invited me to sit by him. The girls had to sit on the other side of the... well... church area? (There was no church, we were outdoors). I was also able to receive communion with the men and elders. The women had to wait till the third time around. After the tea and before the service we formed a circle with our chairs and tried to communicate with each other. PH was off with the elders catching up on recent events and touring the village. Luka did some translating, but we were mainly on our own. It was great. I got to know one guy about my age pretty well, his name was Paulo. I also was basically the only one the men would talk to. The village women were preparing meals and getting the children ready.
At the offering auction I bought a goat and donated it to the village. His name was Alfredo. Alfredo was supper jumpy and very strong. I was able to get few steady pictures of him.

Also, bubbles and stickers are a big hit with the kids. We have a lot of fun anyways, because we are generally the only white people they have had close contact with. But the bubbles are just an insane amount of fun.

Overall it has been an exciting few days. I'll expand more on my thought and feelings in my next post. But its pretty late here and I need to go to bed. But lastly... highs and lows.

Low: The bugs. Bugs here are either super small, annoying, and travel in the thousands (aka mosquito and ants) or they are disgusting, should-be-classified-as-poodles, beasts of burden (aka giant millipede, 8 inch snail, huge praying mantis with horns and smalls blades for arms).

High: I truly felt the presence of God in worship and in each of the villagers. I may not have understood what they were saying... but I defiantly knew what they were saying.


also: I think I was able to post some pictures to my facebook page. Here is the link:

http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/album.php?aid=2025994&id=123702240&ref=mf

It takes me about 45 to add 5 photos, so be patient :) and if the link doesn't work, you should be able to navigate through the face book website. I have an open profile