The Eads to Tanzania

Bye Beth!

Last night Beth stopped over with a very well organized stack of paperwork-- including typed instructions for us while she is gone. She manages Tumaini, and now since the Howells have left for their furlough, she has been handling more details.

Around noon today we drove her to the Mwanza airport for a week-long vacation in Nairobi. We pray this time will be a well-deserved rest and renewal for her.

"You Are Surprised. You Have Never Eaten This?"

The title of this post was what I was asked today as I visited with Paulo this Sunday afternoon. I replied, "Yes I am surprised, and no, I have never eaten that."

I had not known that after the burial yesterday, there was a dinner for everyone back at the family's house. Pastor Paulo and I talked at church and we decided that we would visit James' family today. 

We arrived and found much of the family sitting in plastic chairs under the tarps outside. There were a number of women that were with James' mother inside the house. Everyone was passing pictures back and forth that had been developed since the funeral. I found it interesting that they had had someone taking pictures at the funeral like a photographer would at a wedding in America, with people posing near the open casket, etc. There was a pretty somber mood, and it seemed that everyone was still taking in all that had happened in the past few days.

As Paulo and I went up to the house to give our condolences to the mother, we passed by the cooking hut, I saw that the ladies were already washing the dishes from the afternoon meal. (Most Tanzanians do not cook inside their sleeping house. There will be a small cooking hut nearby that is their kitchen.) Yet, as we sat back down with James' father outside, a boy brought a small table and a women brought food for us and the father. She brought Ugali (a traditional Sukuma dish made of corn flour which has been mixed into boiling water and cooked to the consistency of play-doh), Samaki (fish served whole with skin on), Tumbo la Mbuzi (stewed goat stomach, liver, and intestines) and something that I had never seen before.

I have already eaten Tumbo la Mbuzi (I don't relish stomach and intestines, but the liver is not so bad). Ugali and Samaki are staples here, and I really like it. But it was this other dish that I was eying. The father with a grin turns to me and reached into the bowl to grab a pinch (Tanzanian most often eat from a common bowl). It was dark and clumpy, and it looked like dirt with a worm in it. He said, "Unashangaa. Hujala hicho?" I reply, "No, I have never eaten it." He said, "Unajua hiki ni chakula gani?" (Do you know what kind of food this is?). I said no. He replied, "Ni damu ya mbuzi."

Goat's blood.

Pastor Paulo explained that it is a traditional dish of the Masai people. They will chill the blood, salt it, and it coagulates. The "worm" that I saw in there was an artery. I have had a rule that if I am offered a food that I have never tried, I will try it at least once. Seeking to be a man of principle, I grabbed off a bit of ugali and grabbed a pinch of the blood. I ate it. The father says, "Chakula kitamu?" (Delicious food?).

I say, "Kitamu" (delicious). Jana thinks I am crazy, but I actually wasn't lying. : )

A Tanzanian Funeral

Yesterday (Saturday), I attended my first funeral in Tanzania.

I met the man four days before he died. It was Pastor Paulo's cousin, James, and we visited him last Sunday afternoon. The man was gaunt, extremely feverish, and his glassy eyes seemed to stare past me. He died on Thursday of what was said to be a reoccurring case of Tuberculosis.

I did not find out until yesterday that he had died. Pastor Paulo called me and said that if I was able to come, I was invited to observe and to learn.

I arrived at the house at 2:00 PM. The place was swarming with guests. Three large, brightly-colored tarps were supported by poles and suspended over the those who had gathered, to shade them from the hot mid-day sun. There was assortment of red, blue, green, and white colored plastic chairs gathered around low tables. Men were sitting playing Karati (a card game) and Drafti (a variation of checkers). The women were sitting in the shade along the house, draped in splotches of fabric brighter and more varied than the color of the chairs. This large group was made up of family, friends and neighbors.

I found Pastor Paulo and sat down with him. He was in charge of taking up the collection for the family. Each person there was expected to give, and each one's name was written down in a book and along with the amount given. I asked Paulo when he had arrived and he said that he and the rest of the family (read, large extended family) had been sleeping at the grieving family's house since Thursday. It was Saturday. The collection that Paulo was in charge of taking was to help the father and mother with the cost of the funeral, including feeding all of the family what was staying with them.

It was nearing 3:00 PM, the time when the mass would begin (It was a Catholic funeral). Someone stood up and talked about the importance of the time, and how it would not be good to be playing games when the priest arrived. They rather quickly put the cards and checker boards away and rearranged the chairs for the service.

Three o'clock came and went, but the priest had not yet arrived. So, someone began the mass with singing in anticipation of the priest's arrival. They sang and sang and sang, and still the priest had not arrived. So, at 4:00, the leader stopped the singing (I think after he had run out of songs), and announced that we would just wait for the priest. At 4:30 PM, the priest arrived, greeted the village chairman and prepared himself for the mass. They brought the casket out from the house and laid it on a low table. His body had been prepared and kept at the mortuary in town, and was brought to the house the morning of the funeral. The priest performed the mass. It was relatively brief because of the hour. The burial would have been hindered by the coming darkness. There was a viewing of the body where each of us guests formed a line to pass by the casket to pay final respects. Then the casket was loaded in the back of the pick-up truck that had brought it from town a drove it to the burial site. We guests made the 2+ mile walk to the cemetery.

When we arrived the ceremony continued, as the casket was laid to rest. The unmarried men who were neighbors of the grieving family were required to dig the grave and fill it back up. The chairman of the village oversaw the whole process to insure that every youth helped with this work. If one was absent or did not help, they would be fined. The graveside service ended with the parents, cousins, brothers and sisters, the chairman and the priest each laying a wreath on the grave. Then the younger children lit candles and placed them in the loose dirt around the grave. A final prayer was given, and we all parted ways.

Saying Goodbyes

Today we are saying goodbyes to the Howells. They are headed back to the States for ten weeks and will be returning the first week in June. Rob is finishing his final class for his Doctorate of Ministry. He will also be doing research for his final project and teaching a Introduction to Missions class for Detroit Baptist Theological Seminary. 

We will be staying back here and continuing our work of language learning. Our work and routine will carry on much the same as it has (we pray), but in many ways this time may reveal how much their presence as neighbors, mentors, and friends has meant to us over these past six months. Right now, Grace and Silas associate their new home here with Kelsey, Kristin, Kaylee, and Robby. They will learn now what living in Tanzania is like without other white-skinned friends next door. Jana and I have experienced varying degrees of 'culture shock' over these past months, and Rob and Kara have always been there to encourage us and steer us in the right direction. Because there is so much about life here that we are learning, the Howell's presence has been a constant comfort to us all. We thank God for the Howell family and are praying that this furlough will be an encouragement to them, and that others will be as blessed by them as we have.

Habari Zetu za Siku Hizi

"Our News of These Days," is the title's translation. One of the most common greetings in Swahili is "Habari yako?" or quite literally in English, "Your news?" I thought that in bullet-point fashion, I would give you some of the things that have been going on here in our house.

• I have been visiting in Sweya (the village that we live in) off and on this week, in between town trips. Mostly, because of the shorter duration of the time out (2-3 hours a time), I am focusing more on conversation, wherever it leads rather than making more formal culture interviews. It is hard to measure how these times out effect my fluency level from week to week, but it is easy to see the progress by looking from month to month.
• The kids are starting to feel better. Both Grace and Silas have been kind of out of it with some kind of virus. No, no exotic disease or anything, just a fever, cough, etc. But we have notice in just the six months that we have been here, we have gotten more sick with colds and flus than we did when we were in the States. There are different strains here, and the only way to get immunity to them is to catch them. So, the kids have been building up their immunity. : )
• I went to the Tumaini yesterday to visit. It is has been almost two weeks since I have had visited, and it was good to see the kids and the workers and catch up a little bit with them. Lenard (the man who is operating the farm) has been busy, and he is seeing a good harvest of onions and cucumbers.
• I am reading Prince Caspian to Grace at bedtime most every night. We finished The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe a couple of weeks ago. Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy have become regular topics of conversation between her and me.

Six Months Ago Today

I just realized as I was sitting down to post that six months ago today, we left the States to come here. Needless to say, they have been some pretty life-changing months . . .

We thank God for the last six months and all that he has accomplished in us.

A Week of Town Trips

Sorry for infrequency of the posts. Power and internet outages have prevented me from posting every day. We have changed our internet service now. Not sure how it will all work out yet, but I was able to get online today. : )

Going into town here is not something I relish. Because going to town inevitably means delays, time not spent in the village visiting or in the office studying, it is easy for me to look with a bit of disdain when the events of the week necessitate that I go in more than once a week. Well, this week, there was no avoiding the needs to go in, and there was no avoiding the lessons that I was (and am) learning. God has used my four (!) town trips this week to show me the importance of bearing the fruit of the Spirit . . . 

• Because there is always a reason to become frustrated (joy), 
• Because there is always a line to wait in (patience), 
• Because there is always someone who is trying to cut ahead of you in line (kindness), 
• Because there is always someone that is not able to get you what you need when you need it (gentleness),
• Because there are always tasks that you do not want to do but you must (faithfulness), 
• Because there are always situations that could easily get the best of you (self-control),
• Because there is always a temptation to get what you want in a way that you shouldn't (goodness), 
• Because there is always someone that is trying to take advantage of you (love).

Thank the Lord that he makes every situation a means to know more of our need for him to change us and more of his infinite sufficiency to meet that need. 

My First Swahili Sermon

Yesterday, I preached my first sermon in Swahili. My text was Rom 13:11-14. My main thought I was trying to drive home was, "Because our salvation is very close, we must live properly now." Or, "Kwa sababu wokovu wetu uko karibu sana, tunapaswa kuishi kwa adabu sasa." I preached for about 20 minutes, reading much of what I prepared. I preached to Rob, the Sweya Bible Institute students, and Jana (who came to listen). Rob posted about it on his blog. He gives his review here.

I thank the Lord for the grace to cross this milestone, and I am challenged and determined to press on hard after improving in my preaching in Swahili. Thanks for your prayers.

Internship Begins

Rob Howell, my ministry partner, and I met together with Pastor Paulo today to discuss initiating a semi-formal internship for me under Paulo's oversight in the Sweya church. The conversation was a fruitful one, and I am looking forward to the learning opportunities that this internship will provide. Rob did a post on it on his blog, and you can read it here.

Also, as a fruit of the conversation, my preaching opportunity has changed. Instead of preaching on Sunday morning, I have been invited to preach with the Bible Institute students on Saturday. This is the perfect environment for me to start preaching because it is a learning environment, so while the institute students are practicing their preaching, I can be practicing my Swahili. So if you would pray for the event on Saturday.

Power Outages and Preaching

We have been offline since yesterday morning. I found a way to connect online in town today. It seems that very often our internet service is knocked out by power outages. Not everyone, and every time. So I don't know how long it will be before we are back online again.

Saturday, I mentioned to Pastor Paulo about my desire to have an opportunity to preach this month. He invited me to preach this coming Sunday. That means that in seven days, I will be attempting my first sermon in Swahili. Pray for me. This is a big event, and I will need the Lord's help during my time of preparation this week.