Celebrate Good Times. Come on.

September 27...

Yesterday was St. Michael's first ever graduation ceremony! The school staff, invited guests and a host of parents were on site to lend their congratulations to the Form Four students. And for those of you who are blissfully unaware of the British schooling system circa 1963, that's grade 12 by Canadian measures.

Let me just say that this graduation ceremony for 70 students made my York University graduation of 800 look like a walk in the park! It officially started at 11.00 (an hour late) and wasn't over until the last person was fed at 4.30 in the afternoon! Wow. It was a merathon of songs, dances, dramas, official introductions and speeches. And I was very glad to have a translator beside me.

All in all, it was a beautiful ceremony and I am glad I was able to be a part of it. Slowly but surely education is going to revolutionize Tanzania.

Parachute or Potato Sack

September 21...

Before I begin let make a disclaimer: Both long term and short term missions/development projects are valid, do good things and help people.

And now that you pretty well know what this post is about, let me explain. The group from the UK that was here last week gave me lots to think about. They were on a short-term trip in Tanzania (a couple of weeks) and I, by contrast, will be here for three months (It should also be noted that the length of time a development project lasts is completely relative and so for some my three month trip could easily be classified as a short-term project). So I'd like to just compare my trip to the two week trip.

It was very interesting for me to watch how the people from the UK acted in this country knowing that they were only here for a few weeks and were in a sense parachuted into the life of Tanzania. I can't exactly put my finger on it, but something in me felt slightly uncomfortable with some of the things that happened. Don't get me wrong, the group was incredibly kind and generous and worked hard to be gracious to their hosts at all times and very much accomplished that goal. I just felt a bit strange, knowing that what they said and did would have long lasting impacts on this community, but that they would not be here to witness those affects. And I really must admit that I missed moving around and interacting with Tanzanian communities outside of the Wingfields' presence. I think that's because though Andrew and Miriam are foreigners in a foreign land and always will be, they are so much more integrated into the life and culture of Tanzania than anyone who has been here two weeks (or three months).




When I am with the Wingfields and interacting with people in Iringa or Kilolo there is a different feeling transmitted; something that can only come from living here long-term. It's a respect for the people and places you see and know that can only develop over months and years. And to be honest I'm really just coasting on that sense of commitment developed by the Wingfields. Again, I've only been here two weeks and barely speak the language. I've developed no great report with people but I suppose it's the knowledge that I will be here for a season and will try and develop those relationships and intimate knowledge of the culture and people of Tanzania that makes me feel different; maybe even good?

But don't worry, I certainly won't get full of myself. I have daily experiences that humble me: particularly when I try local survival techniques like using a potato sack filled with straw acting as insulation to keep my shower water warm over night: it didn't work. I had the worst shower of my life that morning. So clearly I have a lot to learn. But I'm glad I'll be here a while to learn it.

Plenty of time to perfect the use of a potato sack and not a parachute.

The Interesting thing about Generosity

September 20...

This past week, St. Michael's had some guests from the UK. They were visiting various projects initiated by the Anglican Church in Tanzania and stopped in at the school for a few days. I had to admit, that it was pretty nice to have some English speakers around to chat with and it was great for my confidence to be around people who knew even less Swahili than me!

When they arrived they had lots of questions about life in Tanzania and even though I've only been here two weeks, I found myself giving a whole ream of answers. And while they had come pretty well prepared for their stay here, they still needed a few things and much to my surprise I found myself offering everything I could. I say surprise not because I was never taught to be kind to strangers or generous to those in need, but rather I was surprised at how immediately friendly I was and willing to help them. You see, I categorize myself as an introvert (though that may come as a shock to some) and if I'm really honest, I would call myself an introvert who masquerades as an extrovert.

Don't get me wrong, I love being with people and telling stories and jokes to get a laugh but being extroverted in a group takes a lot out of me which then forces me to retreat to find time to recharge away from people. And I think that's the real demarcation of introvert vs. extrovert. I've found that extroverts recharge by being with people. For them, down time is spent in the company of a lot of friends and being pretty active. Introverts on the other hand, re-energize on their own or with a few very close friends. And that is me.

Getting back to generosity. I was amazed how quickly I was offering my help to these newcomers to St. Michael's. When I thought about it later, I think my reaction would have been different had the Wingfields not treated me so well upon my arrive to Tanzania. They modelled exceptional generosity and kindness when I came to this country and I think that left an impression on me. Because I experienced such kindness, I knew how important it was and so, in turn, I offered it to others.

Maybe this like the Christian walk in general: when we interact with Christians who really strive to show Christ's love in all circumstances we can't help but be influenced and have our behaviour affected. Likewise, we should realize the impact we have on others whether they're Christians or not, and understand that when we live like Christ did we're helping others live like Him too. And what happens then can be summed up in the words of a certain bumper sticker I know: Love Wins.

Church at 5000 Feet

September 14...

Today the Wingfields and I visited a small village church just outside Kilolo where St. Michael's is located. The local evangelist invited Miriam and Andrew to this special Thanksgiving service because they played a crucial part in the medical treatment of his young son. His boy was born with a club foot and for a number of reasons there was no corrective work done at birth. Recently though, Andrew and Miriam (and a host of other individuals and organizations) helped get the boy corrective surgery by an Italian doctor who was in Tanzania. So today, the church service was in celebration for the boy's successful surgery and to thank those who had contributed to the process.

It was a beautiful occasion. The drive to the church was long, but breathtaking. We literally were going to church in the mountains. Our road was far from smooth and took us around sharp bends and up steep inclines. But the views were incredible. It reminded me of walking along the tops of really high snow banks when I was a kid – if you were careful you could just walk along the top while precariously looking down to the ground and continue to make your way across the the narrow peaks. This felt quite similar. The road was carved out of the widest part of the hills allowing us to look down on the rest of the hills which seemed to go on forever. In all we were up 5000 feet.



The church itself, I learned, was fairly typical for a village church. A small mud-brick construction with a relatively low roof (yippee for me!). Though the building was modest, the music was heavenly. The small choir of six or seven children was amazing. They were in constant harmony and sang with a power I've only heard from large choirs. The service was conducted entirely in Swahili but Andrew was kind enough to translate for me. He and I were also able to share some music with the church as we sang a classic Matt Redman song together with the guitar. I was also invited to introduce myself to the church and conveyed my greetings from my home church in Canada. I explained that I was a teacher and working with Emmanuel International and considered it my honour to be invited to their service.




I really wish I could describe the music better for you. Every person in the small building was singing with such passion and sincerity – and with such beautiful harmonies. And even though I didn't know all the words to the songs, I found myself singing along. Again it was a privilege to be there and be a part of their worship.

Afterwards, we were invited to the family's home for a generous lunch. It is worth noting that the hospitality in this country is phenomenal. People value their guests so much and put a lot of time and effort into ensuring that they are looked after. The meal was delicious and gave me my first taste of Fanta – which tastes exactly like orange pop to me.

All in all it was a good day. Playing the guitar reminded me of how much I miss leading worship at Wesley Chapel but it was definitely a blessing to share some music with this church in the mountains.

Moving In

September 13...

Some time has passed since the last update. I've found that since I have such limited internet access my posts will most likely be a compilation of events from my time here in Tanzania. It'll be a hodge-podge of happenings. Come to think of it, that would be a good title for a blog.

Since I last posted I have successfully moved into my accommodations at St. Michael's Secondary School. It took the better part of day, with all the packing in Iringa where I was staying, then the hour long drive to Kilolo and St. Michael's, and then unpacking and setting up. All in all, I was very tired when it was all over! Andrew was incredibly helpful in the moving process – he is one amazing packer. Seriously, if there were car-packing Olympics I think he'd be a serious contender. And I know good packing technique when I see it. Having lived with parents who enjoyed spontaneous furniture rearranging and were always helping others move house and home (wink to Michael Penney) I have seen packing a car at its best; and its worst. Andrew would definitely make my short list of movers. It really was incredible how much we packed in and on top of, that Land Cruiser.








When we arrived we began unpacking and setting things up. The Wingfields were gracious enough to offer me some unused furniture so that I now have a seating area, a bookshelf, a writing desk, a wardrobe and anything else I could need; including a solar shower. More on that in a bit.

Andrew also set up my SODIS table. SODIS is a method by which I purify my drinking water. The process is dead-easy and 99% effective. First you fill a clear water bottle (about 1 litre) with water and shake vigorously about 20 times. Then you fill the bottle to the very top leaving no room for air bubbles. Then you let it sit in direct sunlight for one day (or six hours on a very sunny day) or two if the conditions are cloudy. After that you can use the water to drink. I should mention that the water I have access to by outdoor tap comes from a spring, and is then filtered (by me) and then goes through SODIS. So when it's all said and done, it's very clean. It has made me think more deeply about the ready access to fresh, clean drinking water we have in Canada. I think when I get back I will be even more concious about how I use (or misuse) water.

The there's the shower. It's a solar unit that Andrew is letting me use. It's really not high-tech. It's basically a heavy-duty plastic bag painted black on one side that you let sit in the sun all day until it's warm. Then you hang it up and let gravity do it's job. It's all right, but I'm really going to have to experiment with it to get it just right. Adding hot water from the kettle works – but I think showering is going to become more of an art for me. Everything is! Even getting breakfast now takes at least ½ an hour. Though I did really enjoy the porridge I made myself with oats. Really life without electricity is a challenge, but I'm sure I will come to appreciate it. Well at least I hope I do. My first night without electric lighting I went to bed at 9 o'clock! That's the first time I've done that since I was eight! And I was awoken the next morning by the rooster that lives 5 feet from my bedroom window at 6.00 in the morning. The sun hadn't even woken up yet. And yet there I was. Earplugs in and doing nothing against the auditory onslaught of bird that has serious issues. I was tempted to tape it's beak shut but I'm sure PETA wouldn't like that very much.

The people at St. Michael's are lovely. They are very friendly and always willing to help. Most of them however, want to speak English making the task of practising my Swahili rather difficult. And I had Ugalli for the first time. It's basically the main bit of the meal and it looks like mashed potatoes but has greater structural integrity. And believe me, mashed potatoes does have some structural integrity. I know from experience since I was dutifully dubbed “the potato man” by my Nana Read. Anyway, with Ugalli, you just scoop the the rest of the meal up with the Ugalli and put it in your mouth; sans knife and fork. Just be careful you don't have cut on your finger like I did. Who knew beans could irritate a cut so badly.




I met with the school administration. I know that I will teach grade 10 Geography which they call Form II after the British system: Form I = grade 9, Form II = grade 10, Form II = grade 11 and Form IV = grade 12. They also have Form V and VI which I think are mandatory if you want to go to University. Anyway, I'll be teaching Geography and helping the Form IV and V's with essay writing which should be fun. I'm happy to teach Geography but am scrabbling a bit to get resources to prepare for my first lesson on Thursday or Friday. Tuesday and Wednesday of this week I will sit in on some classes and see how teachers at St. Michael's teach and how students learn (both being incredibly complex things that really can't be fully understood in two days). When I met some students on Friday in the classroom they all stood up at attention and were incredibly well mannered. This is something that will take some serious adjustment on my part. Hopefully we can come to a compromise in formality and they will call me Mulimu-Jason; which means teacher-Jason. I can dig that.

That's pretty much all that happened this week. Tomorrow I'm going to a village church with Andrew and Miriam and we're going to sing a song for them. I hope it goes well! I also have been using a prepaid cellphone and having to learn how to text people. That is not going well. At least, it's taking me forever! And I simultaneously love and hate automatic word creation on the phone. I wish I had studied under the masters of texting (i.e. Everyone between 15-25 I know) before I left. But all is well. I will learn along with a whole whack of other things!

Good things come in little packages

September 9...

I used to hate earplugs. Those stupid little spongy things were uncomfortable, weird looking and really didn't work for me. In fact, when I did put them in to dampen the ambient sound I found myself more irritated by the sound of my own heartbeat thumping in my head. Effectively, I resigned myself never to use earplugs.

Then I came to Africa.

Ok well maybe Africa has nothing to do with it. But since being here I have found a new love for those great little do-dads the fit snugly in my ear and block out all sound (except for the heartbeat, that's still there.) The Wingfields have a beautiful home. But it's guarded by the loudest dogs I have ever heard. And they're not just loud. They make the most unholy noise I've ever heard. It's like combining the evil sound made by those creatures in the movie the Village with the howls of an elk in heat. Throw in a little blender noise, and you've got an idea of what this sounds like. It's awful and it could keep you up all night. Added to that, the Wingfields have a beautiful little 1 year old: Ben. He's so sweet, but he's got pipes that would make Pavarotti and Celine jealous. Therefore, I am extremely grateful for a mother's wise words that gave the universal advice: “just in case you need them”.

Outside of sleep, my day in Iringa was filled with selecting stored furniture that will find a new home in my room at St. Michael's. A seven foot bed was decided upon for this tall Canadian. Apparently, I'm really tall in Africa too. Go figure.

Miriam and I also visited the home of some nuns in Iringa who make a variety of food for sale that beats the market prices and tastes delicious. I bought some Pear jam and tomato sauce and have every intention of going back tomorrow to buy some pasta. As I said, it's all home made Italian food (by Italians no less) and costs less than the market. For example, my jam and two bottles of tomato sauce cost 3000 Tanzanian shillings. That's about 3 bucks Canadian!

My day also had me studying Swahili again with my patient teacher Betty. It's coming along, but now I remember why I stopped taking French in grade nine. Learning a language is hard! Let's just say I can start a conversation in Swahili all right, but after I've asked how your morning, afternoon and evening was I'm at a loss. More study is needed I'm afraid. Thankfully, the students I'll be teaching speak English. I really only need Swahili for the market. Let's hope I figure out how to say, “can I have my change?” which I think is “changi”.

Then I ended the day with bible study at a local couples house in Iringa. Second Chronicles. King Jehoshaphat. Very interesting guy. Great name. I'm going to try and do like him and just trust God to solve my problems both in Tanzania and Canada. It sure beats trying to fix them myself.

Catching Up

September 7...

I need to make up for lost time. A lot of things have happened over the last few days so I'll do my best to recall most of what's happened. Since the last entry, I've met Miriam and Ben; the family of Andrew Wingfield. They are both fantastic. Miriam is probably the most positive person I know and she is a joy to be around. Her constant warmth and hospitality has made adjusting to Tanzanian life far easier and both she and Andrew have been amazingly helpful and kind. I could not ask for a better support system in Tanzania.

Getting familiar with Iringa has been my task these last couple of days before I go for my first visit to Kilolo and St. Michael's. On my first full day here (Saturday) Miriam took me to the market in Iringa and showed me around the down town. The market was a wonderful display of fresh produce and was a buzz of activity. The food is all piled on tables where the vendors sit on top surrounded by their goods and deal with customers. There is always room to barter and Miriam is as experienced as any Tanzanian in the ways of negotiation. She is also quite capable of conversing in Swahili and does so with ease; something I greatly admire.

Later, Andrew and Ben (now just over a year old) met up with Miriam and I at a great little cafe that is operated by the Anglican Diocese. It's designed to give employment opportunities to Iringa's disabled and so serves excellent food while selling unique handicrafts in the attached shop. The cafe itself is on the second floor allowing customers to sit and watch over the edge of the wall down below as workers create their goods. It was really very fascinating as the men and women worked various looms and sat sewing.

Then that night the Wingfields and I travelled down out of Iringa to a nearby dairy farm where every Saturday, and English speaking family hosts a little get together where volleyball is the main attraction and friends can catch up on all the latest news. I tried my hand at volleyball and was able to hold my own against a few very skilled players (an accomplishment I attribute entirely to my above average height). After the game we returned home and relaxed by watching an episode of Quantum Leap. I'd forgotten about that show, but was quickly reminded of its classic appeal. Time travel plus classic moral message equals one great half hour (albeit a bit cheesy). Then Andrew and I went to the bus terminal to pick up my luggage that arrived that evening by bus.

When we first arrived and scouted out the situation it wasn't apparent that the even had my luggage. The bus had parked about three feet away from another bus and there was no electric lights to speak of; certainly not enough to shine on the undercarriage of the bus where the cargo was stored. Imagine then five or six people crammed between the buses all looking for their luggage in the dark night and speaking a language which I barely understand. Thankfully, Andrew's Swahili is impeccable and with the help of a cell phone casting its blue light we were able to get my luggage. As soon as we got back to the house I rummaged through my bags and put on my warmest sweatshirt – it gets pretty cold here at night!

Then today we all went to English speaking church which happens on the first and third Sunday of each month. It was nice to be able to worship in English, but Miriam assures me that they will take me to a Swahili church soon which should help with my language absorption. Later we all went for a walk around the block with little Ben in the stroller (which appears to me to be more of an off-road model than anything I've seen in Canada). We also stopped in to visit with some friends of Andrew and Miriam – Hope and Mama (something). Apparently, when a mother has a child in Tanzania they gain a new name: Mama whatever. So to many people in town Miriam is now Mama-Benjamin. The visit was really nice but it was a reminder of how little Swahili I know. I sat quietly for the most part, smiling at everyone and having either Andrew or Miriam translate everything that was being said. I hope to one day be able to converse at a basic level with Swahili speakers but I know it will take practice. So far I know that “Asanta Sana” means thank you very much. Karibo is a welcome greeting (which has various responses). And there are plenty of other phrases I'm going to have to pick up. In the meantime, I'll continue to smile a lot and hopefully I won't offend anyone too much.

The Realities of Travelling

From September 4...

“It's all part of the experience!” That pretty well sums up my travel to Tanzania. First the plane in Canada was delayed three hours, then when I arrived in Amsterdam I only had 15 minutes to catch my connecting flight to Africa and now my luggage has not arrived and because of the realities here, it won't for another two days.

The flight on KLM was actually pretty good. I mean, I will never completely fit comfortabily in economy class, but overall, I was impressed. I felt like they just kept feeding me! And the food was quite good too. But how I wished I could have stayed longer in Amsterdam! Really there is a deep part of me that wants to explore Europe with my best friend Paul. There's just something about walking around history that gets my blood pumping and I know Paul feels the same. So I believe a European trip is in order – and soon!

I slept a bit on the plane but doing anything comfortable on the plane is a challenge when your knees are under constant barrage from the seat in front. Do people really not realize the havoc they wreak when they recline their seats at breakneck speeds? Suffice to say, the combination of a substantial time change (seven hours I believe) and being crammed on a plane for an unholy number of hours equals a tried and weary traveler.

On the bright side, Andrew (one half of my host team) was able to pick me up immediately from the airport and I didn't have to pay the $100 USD airport tax in full like some other passengers. I got away with paying $50. Once the airport drama was over, Andrew was quick to whisk me away to a Guest House which is where I'm writing from now under a rather fanciful blue mosquito net. More good news, the adapter Chris lent me works perfectly allowing me to charge my laptop and iPod. Both of which have assumed new levels of importance since the loss of my other baggage. And in relation to the iPod (graciously donated by Ryan Szabo) I started watching Long Way Round and am finding the parallels to my own adventure to be quite profound. I'll keep watching and hopefully keep getting encouraged.

So now it's time to sleep. Tomorrow is my first morning in Africa. I can't really believe I'm here. It hasn't sunk in yet; even with the rat that crawled across the kitchen counter where my water's stored.

Soon though. I think it'll set in soon.

Last Minute Luxuries

Tonight is my last night in Canada for three months. I am excited, nervous, anxious, joyful, terrified and surprisingly calm. There are a lot of things that I am going to miss: electricity, running water, showers, familiar food and all of those comforts. But most of all I will miss my family and friends. They are my support right now. They will be missed most dearly. I know that I will make new friends in Tanzania and that those relationships are part of my reason for leaving – I still just worry. But as I think through my worries, I find myself realizing that they're really not based on much; just fear. I know I will make friends. I know that God has provided me a strong support system in Tanzania. I know all these things and so I need to trust.

As I was preparing to fund raise for this trip I had worries. But God revealed to me that I just needed to trust. Not to trust that He will do what I want Him to and even if I think that what I'm doing is what He wants – things don't always go my way. Be He told me in my Spirit to just trust – not to trust that the money would come through and not that my trip to Tanzania would absolutely happen – but to just trust that He would do good things with my life because He loves me and wants to use me. And so today I trust and tomorrow I leave. And my leaving makes me think back to what I read in Donald Miller's book Through Painted Deserts. His words were those that first made me want to seek this adventure and reassured me that everything would be alright. He wrote, “...and you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed.”

And with that, I go.