Developing a Heart for Development

October 25...

The past few days I have been working with Andrew the village of Usolanga which is about a two hour drive away from Iringa. One of Emmanuel International's projects here in Tanzania is the creation of sustainable, clean drinking water sources. And in a country like Tanzania that basically has two seasons, dry and wet, that means utilizing the torrential down-pours of the rainy season in the middle of the hot and dry time through water storage tanks.

EI has constructed a bunch of these rain-water tanks that basically catch the water off the rooftops and stores it in huge tanks to be used during the dry season. The tanks are remarkably simple in design, but that's why they work. To build these huge cisterns EI has to organize the labour, construction materials, time-lines and funding and it is no small task. To build an identical tank in Canada it would take a couple of weeks. Here in Tanzania, it takes at least a month and that's if everything goes according to plan. Like most developing countries, Tanzania has a chronic shortage of skilled labour and finding suitable building materials can prove to be difficult and costly. Despite the challenges, EI Tanzania has been getting the job done.



So for the past two days, Andrew and I were working with one of the water projects currently under construction at a medical clinic run by the Anglican Church. It was awesome to see the work being done there and nice to pitch in and help where I could; shovelling, tying down sun-shades and cold-welding. I should mention though how incredibly hot Usolanga is. Unlike Iringa and Kilolo, this village is down thousands of feet from the highlands and as a result endures the full brunt of the sun's rays. The thermometer in our EI accommodation house said it was 38 degrees Celsius at 2pm and it only got hotter. Because of the heat, work begins at 6 in the morning and ends at 2 in the afternoon just as the sun reaches it's thermal zenith! So, as is the custom, we ended work and went inside for an attempted nap.



Despite the heat, it was a great experience. I really enjoyed seeing the project come along and was happy I could help in my small way. And I slept incredibly well that night. And the meals we had were fantastic, not because they were gourmet, but because I was famished! Have you ever noticed that when you put in a really hard day's work you feel really satisfied after eating and sleep really well? I think it's something that I've missed out on back home.





And if I'm honest with myself, I can admit that I actually thought fondly of the winter back home and for a moment wished there was snow outside. Wow. That's a scary thought.

Adventures in the Highlands

October 17...

I got the chance to visit a remote village last week. It was great fun even getting there. The roads, well they really weren't roads. More like, “Oh hey, those crater looking things seem to be in a line. Do you think they could have been roads once?” I'm just glad we were in a capable 4X4 truck that could handle the terrain.

We were picking up some students for the Bible School that's also located on the St. Michael's grounds. It took a few hours to get there and when we finally did, our passengers were not ready for us yet. So we helped some locals bring sand up from the river to make cement and my friend Ken (the driver and an Australian ex-pat working at St. Michael's) played with the local kids.

All the kids loved Ken. He's pretty much everyone's grandpa here.

It was a fun trip and I was happy to have had the chance to go.

Next stop Kilimanjaro!

October 15...

Well maybe not Kilimanjaro. I did however, climb the hill that sits opposite of St. Michael's last weekend with my good friend Hugh. It took about an hour to get up there and a little more than half of that to get back down.

We walked up through people's sambas (fields) and it felt a bit like walking through someone's backyard. But they didn't care and it saved a lot of time!

The view was amazing and my photos do not do it justice. My legs were sore the next day, but it was well worth it.

No pain no gain I guess.

I Want To Tell You A Funny Story

October 13...

Well it's funny to me at least. Before coming to Tanzania, I have to be honest and say that when I prayed to God for stuff, I generally had a pretty vague belief that whatever I was asking for would happen. I'm not entirely sure why this is (and sometimes still is) the case. Maybe I didn't want to get my hopes up you know. I didn't want to ask God for something very specific and then not get it, or get something else: sort of a disappointed Christmas morning scenario where you really wanted a remote control car and got multi-coloured underwear instead.

Or maybe, I felt like I couldn't possibly know the mind of God and so whatever I wanted was probably not what He wanted for me and so over time, I just stopped asking specifically for stuff. Sure I would still ask, but it would all be pretty general; and there's nothing wrong with that either.

But to be completely honest, I just stopped thinking that God would answer prayer on the spot and with exactly what I needed (and wanted). That is changing though. And believe it or not, it started with a boiled egg.

Let me explain:

Before coming here I didn't eat boiled eggs. A recent chat with my mom has revealed that we apparently had the option to eat such food as kids, but never did. When I say we, I'm referring to my brothers and I (and if you're reading this now brothers, please don't ostracise me for developing an enjoyment for boiled eggs). Anyway, I had the chance to eat them here and they're really not bad and are an awesome source of protein, which is great for village life.

So the other day, I was here in Kilolo and feeling really hungry. It was my last day in the village before leaving for the weekend and going to town (Iringa). I didn't really have a lot of food left, and nothing that would feed the need for protein. I decided to go and collect my daily bread (not the little pieces of paper with Bible verses but the actual stuff you eat) from my neighbours and on the way I casually just said something to God which I guess constituted as prayer; though it was more of a passing thought directed at Him. I said, “God it would be really great if You could get me something to eat”. And I was specifically referring to something with protein in it. And just kept walking. Actually, I pretty well forgot that I said that until He answered (which is a habit I'm trying to break). So I got to my neighbours, collected the bread and had about a three sentence conversation with the kind people who provide me with bread. I was just about to walk out of their home, hands full of carbohydrates, when I was called back. “You like eggs?” I was asked. “Sure.” I replied. And then out of the air came flying a hard boiled egg which I caught but nearly missed.

As I walked out of the house and back to my own I couldn't help but laugh a little. As if God had answered my dumb little prayer and with a hard boiled egg no less. I was really grateful and enjoyed the egg immensely.

And stuff like that keeps happening.

Today, as I made my way to the bus station I said another quick, no-thought prayer. I was late leaving and needed get to the bus station quick but knew I could only go as fast as my legs would take me. I prayed something like, “God, it would be great if I could get to the bus station really quick.” Seriously that was it. Nothing deep or profound. There was no scripture quoting. Just a quick little thought, again directed in His general direction.

And then it happened again. He answered.

A few minutes later and classy looking red pick-up drove by and slowed down. The window rolled down and the young driver asked me, in English, “Are you going down?” By which he meant are you going down to the town centre (where the bus station is). I said yes and few minutes later I was at the bus station right on time courtesy of a very kind Tanzanian. And for my parents' sake, the truck had official plates, so it wasn't just a random truck, but some government official or something: very safe.

You know, if stuff like this keeps happening I may have to start praying a little more earnestly.

But here's the thing: I don't want to become spoiled and greedy. I realize that God wants to (and does) provide for us. But I don't want to get caught in the trap that has me praying strategic prayers with laser guided accuracy. I just don't think it works like that. I want to develop an expectant attitude that is patient by nature and trusts that whatever God's provision (or lack of) is and whenever it comes (if it comes) is what is best for me.

But I have to be careful I think. Because in trying to do that I could slip back into the thinking that God doesn't really answer our prayers in the immediate with exactly what we need. And then I just stop asking God for anything and instead try and work it out on my own. And that leads to two things: a) disappointment, which is usually followed by b) pain.

So I'm going to keep making those small prayers for my daily needs. And I think I'll even ask Him about the bigger things too and trust that He knows what He's doing.

I mean who would have thought of a boiled egg. But it worked.

Scottish Jigs...You Can Dance If You Want To

October 12...

Last weekend, I went to a church retreat here in Iringa. Well just outside Iringa actually, at a beautiful camp ground. It was part of Iringa Christian Fellowship, which is an English speaking church here in town made up mostly of ex-pats who meet semi-regularly.

Some highlights include:

1. Caleigh Dancing
2. Amazing food
3. The best shower I've had in Africa
4. Great fun with new friends






We camped out in tents, and based on my village lifestyle, it wasn't all that different from what I'm used to. There were learning sessions, music and great times just to hangout. All in all it was a great weekend.

And if I didn't know it already, the Caliegh dance proved once and for I that while I may have two left feet, those feet love to move across the dance floor!

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie...Literally

October 2...

Just a couple of pictures of the Wingfields' guard dog sleeping. His name is Dog. Seriously. And yes he actually sleeps like this. A lot.

Enjoy

Do you have the time?

October 1...
(I apologize for the length of this post. I've had a lot of time to think this week)

One of the first things I noticed here in Tanzania, was that time moved differently in this part of the world. Of course, there was the obvious clock adjustment as I flew across several time zones and then dipped below the equator. Seven hours difference from Tanzania to Toronto. I was surprised how quickly I adjusted to the difference. It could be because I was awake for most of my two day journey across an ocean and nearly two continents. So when I finally arrived in Iringa (my home for two weeks) I quickly slipped into a steady sleeping pattern: in bed by 10.30 asleep at 11.00 and up and 8 or 9 (usually 9) in the morning.

In Iringa, life moved a little slower than Toronto (especially the internet, but I am very glad to have it at all) but for the most part things happened as usual. Breakfast would be somewhere between the infant giggling in the family room at 8am and well before noon. That's generally when lunch was had. And dinner found a comfortable slot around 5.30 or 6 at night. Pretty standard schedule. There was stuff in between but that was all pretty normal too.

Life in the town of Iringa is much different than life in the village of Kilolo. The most obvious difference being the size and location of the village. It's small. Really small. And it's an hour away from Iringa and a good bit of time from anything else. As such, there are some amenities that are not found in village life: namely electricity. And that my friends has a more powerful influence on daily life than I had ever considered. Without electricity for lights, or tv, or computers or anything I've completely adjusted my daily life. Seriously it's major.

These days I wake up at 5.30 or 6 (that's in the morning!) when the Rooster calls; right outside my window. I don't actually roll out of bed until 7.00 but by then I'm wade awake. And the only reason I am not in a catatonic state during the day is because I go to bed at...wait for it...9.30! The last time I went to bed at 9.30 The Fresh Prince of Bel Air was still making new episodes and the class of Bayside was just about to move to bigger and better things (along with more terribly written plot lines) in college.

I teach half days, so once I'm done for the day that's it. Done. Lesson planning doesn't take that long; an hour if I really waste time. Not sure if that's because I'm planning terrible lessons or it's just more straight forward teaching basic English rather than history or geography. Either way, I have a lot of time on my hands. I fill some of it with watching season one and two of the Office on my iPod (which I power with a solar charger I brought) and occasionally movies on the same device. But mostly, I read and think. In that order. And usually the one leads to the other.

I've had so much time to read and think that I've now just realized how rushed I am back home. Seriously, back in Toronto I can stuff a day full with anything but thoughts. The only opportunity I have to think was usually on the subway and that's only if I forgot my music. Dead space needed to be filled and so I filled it with everything I could. Not all of it was bad necessarily, and it'll surely be a challenge to make space for thought when I come home, to make time to think and reflect on life.

And another thing about thinking is that I find I talk to God a lot more. Not that I sit and pray ceaselessly (though that would be good I'm sure) but rather, it's just a simple dialogue between Him and me. I guess I could just be making it up and then I'd be talking to myself in which case I could give a friend of mine at WC a serious run for their money. But actually, I think it's me talking to God. And guess what: He talks back! I know, I know, of course He talks back but this time I'm actually listening. I think it has to do with the filling of the day with junk. Less junk = more clarity. I think I trust more easily now that it's God speaking to me, without the competition for air space I have back home.

Either way I like it. And I would recommend you try it.

Personal Space on Hiatus

September 28...

Today I made the trip from the town of Iringa to the village of Kilolo by bus; the People's Chariot. I will make this trek every week after I finish teaching to get to the Wingfield's home in Iringa. Getting there and back is always an adventure but it's particularly interesting when I ride the bus.

If it hadn't already happened, it is safe to say that I have now lost all my North American sense of personal space when travelling in vehicles. If anything, my daily commute to York University on the TTC at rush hour has prepared me well for this trip; but even at it's most crowded the bus in Toronto could not compare to the buses here. By the time the bus was in full motion every seat was filled (some with more than one person) and the isle was completely full. I was lucky that I had a seat and that luck can really be attributed to the fact that I arrived an hour before scheduled departure. I learned that lesson the hard way last Sunday when I arrived fifteen minutes early to the find both the inside and roof of the bus completely full (and when I say full, I really, truly mean it). This week I had the foresight to arrive an hour early and miraculously found a friend at the bus terminal gearing up for the same trip. He kindly helped me find the right bus and we got a seat together.

That's another thing I have to get used to here in Africa: time. Things just happen different here. When something is supposed to happen at 4 that really means it's starting at 5. And though the trip from Iringa to Kilolo really only takes 45 minutes to an hour by car, the bus trip, all stops and waiting included took me 4 hours. And that's making pretty good time. People just have a different pace here. It should also be noted that the roads in most of rural Tanzania would attract an extreme off-roading crowd were they back home; so that makes travel time much different too. But I'm adjusting and really, the trip was pretty good.

It was a bit strange to see the things people bought on board though. I mean in Toronto, I've seen people bring on small pets occasionally and only during the designated hours. So seeing a cat or even a small dog would be no surprise. A fully grown chicken though?! That made me take a second look. At first I thought it was dead. Its handler had its feet bound and it really seemed quite lifeless. Upon further reflection however, I realized that it's eyes were blinking and would occasionally ruffle its feathers. I was surprised at how calm it was. I really thought that any animal (let alone myself) would get fidgety on such a trip. But this bird, in a plastic bag mind you with its head sticking out the top, was completely content, though I'm sure PETA would have had a fit. Very strange indeed; at least for me.

As I had the isle seat (for leg room of course) I was ready to have people move past me as they found their seats; but that wasn't even the half of it. As I said, the seats and isle were completely full so when people had to get off or move it was like watching playdough be squeezed through a press. Again, any sense of personal space I had was quickly eroded making the typical transit rider expressions like, “there's no more room back here” null and void. That was pretty well cemented as people were all but sitting in my lap as passengers tried to move by. As for leg room: forget about it. In trying to describe our predicament I was reminded of a witty phrase used by a one Tobias Funke when travelling in the back seat on a Bluth family road-trip. Aptly put Dr. Funke.

Despite my apparent negativity, I really want to emphasize that it was a good trip. Space (or lack there of) is something I've quickly gotten used to here, so having mamas (older Tanzanian ladies) practically sitting on me isn't really an issue any more. And I was very thankful to God for proving a travelling companion who could help get me get on the right bus and safely to Kilolo. All in all it was an eventful trip.

Did I mention the ticket agent would climb on the roof rack while the bus was in full motion and crawled over top of the seats to move from the front to the back of the bus. I wish you could have been there.