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.