by Heather Plett | Feb 19, 2005 | Uncategorized
We drove all day today. We started out in the morning by saying farewells in Shinyanga. One of the men approached me and said the Bishop had sent him to ask for my card. I’m not sure why he wanted my card. I suppose it may have been to make some plea for further support. Or perhaps it was because he wants to encourage Marcel to come and teach at their school.
The drive was a mixed bag today – some smooth tarmac and lots of washboard. We stopped in Mwanza, and I managed to send a few e-mails at an internet café. We also stopped at Victoria Lake for a bit of a break and a snack. While we were at the lake, a group of children came to collect water in their buckets. The water was filthy, and yet some of them filled their buckets and drank from it. It was really disturbing to see. I knew there was trouble with not enough clean water, but it didn’t really sink in until I saw them drinking filth.
We were anticipating sleeping at a school tonight, but Dan surprised us. He made the bus driver stop on the road, and without telling us what he was doing, walked over to the Serengetti Stop Over. When he got back, he announced that the plans had changed and we were spending the night here.
What a great surprise! We all get to sleep in rondebels with traditional thatched roofs. We had a relaxing evening, with drinks at the bar and a delicious supper.
I’m sharing a room with Corrie Lynn tonight. It’s quite remarkable how our relationship has evolved over the last few days.
by Heather Plett | Feb 18, 2005 | Uncategorized
“Life is not a problem to be solved but a mystery to be lived.”
Scott Peck
by Heather Plett | Feb 18, 2005 | Uncategorized
Oh my gosh, what a night I’ve had! I was sure this night I’d have a good solid sleep. It was such a long, tiring day, and I have a comfortable room with a fan to keep me cool. Why wouldn’t I sleep well? Guess I was in for a bit of a surprise!
Shortly after 2:00, I woke up feeling rather ill. It started out as just a slight nausea, but it got increasingly worse. I suspect I got a minor case of food poisoning. I got up to go to the bathroom, not knowing if I would throw up or poop my guts out.
While I was sitting on the toilet, I heard a slight noise. I looked up, and high on the wall in front of me was a gecko, and it its mouth was a cockroach. Well, needless to say, THAT’S a bit of a startling thing to see on your bathroom wall at the best of times, but it’s particularly hard to deal with at 2:00 in the morning when you feel like your insides are ready to turn inside out.
I closed the bathroom door and climbed back into bed. The sudden enormity of having to deal with 2 challenges in the middle of the night became a little too hard to take, so the tears began to flow. That didn’t last long though. Lying there on such a comfortable bed with breeze on my face in Africa nonetheless seemed like such a blessing, I just couldn’t waste my time in tears. On top of that, it struck me that here I’d seen people dealing with incredible struggles, and I was letting a simple think like a gecko with a cockroach in its mouth get me down? Many of those people would give almost anything to sleep in a place like this. A few pests in the bathroom would be the least of their worries.
That helped me see the situation a little differently and after that I was actually quite peaceful. I probably would have been able to sleep if it hadn’t been for the fact that my stomach was feeling increasingly worse. I began to fear that I would end up passed out on the floor, might possibly hit my head on the bathtub or concrete floor and end up with a concussion. No one would find me until morning.
Along with that thought, came the memory of the conversations and thoughts I’d had earlier about how North Americans are so reluctant to admit when they need help. This challenged me to look at myself and wonder why I was so reluctant to turn to anyone for help. Did I have too much pride to become more African and admit it when I was in need?
So, with that thought in mind, I climbed out of bed and made my way downstairs to where I knew Corrie Lynn’s room was. I only know where she and Ed were, and I felt quite comfortable by now that she would help me without wounding my pride.
I knocked on her door, and sure enough, she welcomed me in to sleep in her extra bed. She was pretty groggy, but she was quite willing to help me if I threw up.
Fortunately, I never had to throw up and throughout the night I got increasingly better. Now I’m back in my room, and though there is a bit of residual nausea, I feel pretty good. I did find evidence, however, that what I saw in the bathroom last night was not a dream. The remains of the cockroach are lying in my bathtub. I wish I’d taken a picture of my friend the gecko. That would have been a picture worth showing back home!
Today is Dad’s birthday. He would have been 71. It’s amazing how much I feel like Dad’s spirit is with me on this trip. I think about him all the time. I think he’d have been so fascinated with this trip. He would have felt quite at home with the primitive farming methods and I’m sure he would have taken great joy in the people. Dad, I wish you were here in the flesh, but I know you’re here in spirit.
by Heather Plett | Feb 17, 2005 | Uncategorized
It’s hard to describe all the emotions I’ve been through today. It will take a long time to process all we’ve been through today.
We started with breakfast in the restaurant downstairs. I just had fruit and tea since the only bread they had was white (why does EVERYBODY serve white bread around here?). After breakfast, we drove to the AICT (African Inland Church of Tanzania) office and met with the staff, including the Bishop.
On the way to the food distribution site we were visiting today, I rode in the care along with Bishop John K. Nkole. He’s a fascinating man. Though he clearly has passion and compassion for his land and his people, it also seems somewhat evident that he enjoys the status he has achieved. We rode in his comfortable, air conditioned SUV with leather seats and good shock absorbers to cushion us against the rough roads. He talked with wisdom and insight about the problems in his country. He said some of the problems were as a result of a former communist requiem that caused people to get lazy and not have enough pride in their country, their government, or their work.
It just occurred to me, as I sit here and process this day, in the context of the last few days, that whenever asked about the problems in their countries, the leaders I have spoken with never blame the west (ie. richer nations) for unfair trade, etc. They always look for internal problems and internal solutions. It would be so easy to blame us.
The bishop also shared some of his views of the church. Most of them were wise. He said, for example, that he didn’t believe in big evangelistic meetings because there was no follow up. “A fire cannot sustain itself without firewood.” He also said that doctrine was not the most important thing – that the thief on the cross got into heaven even without baptism. Another thing he said was that a man had to be willing to change, or else he would end up alone on an island.
What I found interesting about him was that, despite his open-mindedness on many things, he was quite closed-minded on other things. Rock music, for example, should not be allowed into the church.
Our first destination today was a village in the Kishapu district where a food distribution was taking place. This was the last of 3 distributions, as a result of drought in the last harvest year (by the time this food is consumed, they hope the next harvest will be ready).
I have no words to adequately describe the experience of that visit. The people were all waiting for us to arrive. There were hundreds of them. When I stepped out of the bishop’s vehicle, there were hundreds of eager faces looking at me. A couple of women tentatively reached for my hand. When I smiled back at them and shook their hands, the others took that as a signal to approach. Suddenly there were hands reaching from everywhere. Each hand wanted to touch mine. Each face looked for my smile.
It was completely overwhelming. I know now what the queen must feel like when hundreds of people swarm around her in the hopes that they might get a brief moment to clutch her hand.
The tears welled up in my eyes and my throat felt tight. I wanted to tell the “I am not the messiah. Don’t thank me – I have done so little to help you in your plight.” I wanted to run away and cry with the injustice of it all. How could I be worthy of this? Why would I be worthy of their honour when I get to live in luxury and privilege? I should be shamed by them – not honoured. They should hate me for having so much and not being willing to share more. They shouldn’t be worshipping me like this! I don’t deserve this any more than they deserve the lot that they’ve been given.
The emotions didn’t stop there. We briefly helped them fill some bags with maize, and then it was time for the official speeches. I was nearly moved to tears as I spoke of how we were there to support them, just as we knew they would support us if we were in need. I said I knew what it was like to live on a farm and wait for it to rain so that we could have a good harvest.
I thought that we would stay longer at the distribution site, but they whisked us away to our next stop. We visited a few of the fields which CFGB has provided seeds for. The farmers were in the field waiting for us. The woman showed us how she plowed the field by hand held hoe. She showed no expression on her face as we all took pictures of her. It was hard to know if she was feeling pride or shame.
After visiting a few fields, we went to a school where they were preparing lunch for us. We dropped in on a few classes and said hello to the children. The classrooms were stark and bare – most of the children sat on the floor with no desks and only a small notebook to do their lessons in. There were no teaching tools in the rooms.
They took us to our seats in the shade of a big tree and they performed for us. It was marvellous. They had 3 different choirs who’d all prepared songs for us. All of the words to the songs were written especially for our visit. They sang of their gratitude for our visit and support. They also sang of their need for clean water and greater food security.
Lunch was served in one of the classrooms. We were told to eat “halfly” as there was another lunch waiting for us in another village. We ate rice and goat meat and chicken. The jolly bishop encouraged us to eat more. “Food is hospitality,” he said.
Soon, we were back on the road again. We thought we were going to the place where our next meal would be served, but instead they took us to another school. This time it was a secondary school, with both boys and girls for a change. After we signed the guest book (it seems EVERYBODY’S got guest books!), we were taken to an open-air auditorium where the students performed for us – standing in a circle all around the edges of the auditorium. First they sang their national anthem, then a few students performed a poem for us. It was a poem about the dream they have for their school. They dream about more buildings to house more classrooms, a library, and even a computer room.
Ever since those students performed their poem, I’ve been trying to process how I feel about it. For awhile I felt good because they showed initiative and hope for the future. But there was a niggling feeling that that wasn’t really how I felt about it. After talking with Brenda about it, it occurred to me that part of me was frustrated that these children were being socialized to believe that perhaps if you appeal to the rich white Canadians, they will deign to be your benefactors and your problems will be solved. How is that helping the children by making them believe that?
Since then, I’ve had other thoughts about it. If I look at it from a cultural perspective, it makes more sense. Because they have a stronger sense of community, and belief that relationships are the highest priority, they believe that brothers and sisters should support each other. Therefore, because they are not as intent on being independent and don’t have the same issues with pride, they see nothing wrong with asking their “brothers ans sisters” for help. Instead of looking at is as their inferior appeal for our charity, we should look at it as an honour that they recognize us as an extension of their community and that they feel comfortable asking for help.
After the school visit, we travelled to another town where yet another welcoming party had gathered to greet us. This community will be receiving the food distribution tomorrow. Once again, we were swarmed. We were lead to a row of chairs under a tree. The people circled around us (Tim said it felt like a giant hug), and again we had speeches and music. Their music is so refreshing. It is so clearly part of their culture. It flows out of them as a natural, organic extension of who they are.
From my place at the head table (beside the bishop), I took a lot of pictures. I am so taken with their beautiful faces. They all seemed to glow with such expectation and gratitude.
It was difficult to file through the crowd, because they moved in so close to us and wanted to shake our hands.
Another lunch was served at another school. We ate fairly quickly this time as we had to be on the road. Most of the food was typical (rice, goat, chicken) but this was the first time we had sorghum ugali. It had a rough texture – like there was sand in it. Once again, we were served luke-warm pop (I think that was the third or fourth bottle today).
The ride back to Shinyanga was long and rough. I gave up my seat in the Bishop’s car (for Micheline) and rode in the bus. After such a long day, I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep because of the rough roads.
When we got back to Shinyanga, we were hosted for supper at the home of Hannukah, a local missionary who works in HIV/AIDS programming. She put out an amazing spread of food. Her home was large and very comfortable. She has adopted a little Swahili girl named Christina. She is gorgeous! Seeing her made me miss my own children.
Finally, after a very long day, I’m back in my comfortably equipped hotel room, ready to sleep.
by Heather Plett | Feb 16, 2005 | Uncategorized
Today, we spent all day driving. We left the hotel at 6:00 in the morning. We stopped a couple of times to pee and take pictures of baboons. We drove along Lake Victoria, but never had a chance to stop. We arrived in Mwanza at lunch time. Max (our driver) called his brother-in-law and he came to meet us and show us to a restaurant for lunch. Lunch was probably the best food I’ve had since getting her. It was chicken with tamarind sauce. The name was something like “Muku ___ kapaka”. It was a light curry sauce with chicken and veggies.
After lunch we stopped at a supermarket. I bought a few teas and some raw Tanzanian sugar.
About an hour and a half outside Mwanza, the road got really rough. Max was still driving fairly quickly, because he wanted to get to our destination before dark, so we bounced around a lot.
When we got to our hotel in Shinyanga, it turned out our reservation was missing and they had no rooms available (we’d been bumped by some doctors). They were going to set up some mattresses in the conference room, but then our local contact showed up and said he’d found rooms somewhere else.
We ended up at the Mwoleka Hotel. By African standards, it’s quite nice. It even has a TV in the room and a bathtub!
I had a bath before going to bed. It was a real treat to have access to a bathtub!
by Heather Plett | Feb 16, 2005 | Uncategorized
This morning we had our breakfast under the tree again. After breakfast, we had our “parting ceremony” under the tree. Dan and Tim, as our leader and pastor, were presented with special “leadership” gifts. The rest of us also received gifts. All of the gifts were items of Maasai beadwork. I received a necklace and bracelet. It was quite moving to be treated with such honour. We also presented them with gifts. I presented Lydia (one of the women serving us, Solomon’s wife) with a bar of soap from Canada.
As parting words, Bernard (local MCC worker) reminded us of the passage Pastor Stephen had read the night before (Psalm 133) about how unity is like precious oil poured out on the head. He said he’d often wondered why the passage spoke of oil rather than water, but one day he realized it was because oil lasted much longer than water. He’d placed some oil and water on the acacia tree under which we stood, and said that in a few weeks, he would ask Pastor Stephen which was still there.
Before we left, we learned that the goats and cows at the farm were part of the tithes that people gave the church. It seemed that Liam, the young boy who hung around quite a lot and was especially interested in my indigo watch, was the goat herder. I took a picture of him with his goats.
At the breakfast table, I spoke with David Muturi, the principal of the Najile Boys High School (which hosted us the first night). He told me about the boys school schedule each day and talked about how much they needed a library.
We left the farm at around 8:30. We drove most of the day today, stopping only a few times. Our first stop was Narok where we bought gas. I bought a necklace, bracelet and beaded staff.
We saw a lot of animals again as we drove – giraffes, zebras, gazelles, vultures, and others.
The terrain changed a lot while we drove. The region where we stayed was a little hilly with scrub trees all over. We drove into a flatter region with wide open spaces and then over an escarpment to an area that’s quite green and lush with sugar and tea plantations.
For lunch we stopped at Kisii. I had chicken and chipati (fried flat bread) and mango juice (yummy). After lunch, we strolled around the market. I bought some fabric and coffee. It was a little too crowded in the market with too many people crowding around us and wanting us to buy from them. It’s hard to say no when you know they may go to bed hungry tonight.
We got to our hotel in Migori at around 5:00. We have private rooms tonight. Mine is fairly large, with a double bed, chairs, and tables. It’s still primitive, though, even though it’s probably the nicest building in town. It’s probably the equivalent of the crappiest hostel we stayed at in Europe.
When we got here, we placed our orders for supper, and then went for a walk in the market. I didn’t buy anything this time. I ended up stopping for a cold drink with Ed, Peter, Tim, and the security guard we’d met at the hotel. The security guard was on his way to his second job at a nearby shop.
Tonight we had supper at the hotel. I had fish and a cold apple cider. After supper, because we wanted somewhere to gather and debrief, I invited everyone to my room. We had quite a serious talk about how we should respond when people as us to give. People also wanted to know why they were discouraged from bringing gifts for the people we met. It wasn’t an easy talk because there are no easy answers. It breaks your heart when you know that just a few dollars could help these people. But at the same time, it just doesn’t seem right to be bringing them too much when we don’t really know what they need. It bothers me so much that there is an expectation that we are the givers and they are the takers. I think it would do so much more good if we all chose to change our lifestyles rather than dump trinkets on them.
