Lantern to Laptop by Karen Wiggins

This was something I wrote when we first moved to Bunda Tanzania.

Lantern to Laptop by Karen Wiggins

Having been without electricity for two days, we were able to use the reserve battery on our laptop at the same time using our kerosene lantern to get around the house. As I saw our coffee table, it was so symbolic of the use of so many methods of living for 2000 years that I needed to record all the things that I have been noticing--old methods and new methods working side by side. The picture that I took of our lantern and laptop represented some of the observations that I had been collecting in my mind.

In the States, we use the old methods and tools to decorate our homes or put in museums. Here they use both old and new. No one even thinks it is odd. Just as the people wear the best clothing that they own, they use the best tools that they can afford.

Many refer to Africa as the cradle of civilization. Bunda, Tanzania, our home on the edge of the Serengeti and near the shores of Lake Victoria, is evidence that this is true. Africa is a place that has traditions dating back over 2000 years. We have been lucky enough to see examples of all of these old traditions and new skills being used today in Tanzania at the same time.

Farming

Behind our back fence I was able to watch one man making a large arc with his heavy hoe, his muscles rippled and the hoe come down on the hard earth with a force that I could feel with my feet on the other side of the fence. As I watched for a while, I could feel the rhythm and harmony with the sounds around him. Birds, roosters and goats seemed to harmonize with his steady rhythm.

He would make that full arc seven times in seven seconds and then he would rest for a second. This was repeated again and again. The smell of new earth was heavy in the air as he finished near sundown. He had hoed about one forth of an acre and he smiled with the pride of accomplishment as he came home. Later that night he did some push ups, cooked his own dinner, ate and began to guard our home. He was one with the earth. That night he was planning for another day to systematically plant each seed in the row and not just scattering seeds on stones and paths. We find in the World Book on our laptop that the hoe was used in 3500 B.C.

Some times as we turn a corner we watch a young boy plowing his garden for his family using a yoke and two or four oxen just like the ones talked about in the Bible. In another minute, we see another young man driving his tractor to his land to prepare a crop. We are able to watch all the methods of farming all through the ages using human resources, capital resources and natural resources.

Walking

Driving from Musoma 30 miles home to Bunda we watch hundreds of people walking (with flip flops or bare feet) carrying something to sell or something that they bought in the market. I often see Christ and Paul and the Disciples as they did the same. Washing each other’s feet when we go home reminds us of Christ washing the disciples feet . Our feet were dirty even with shoes and socks on and we had driven the car--not walked. The humbling of the foot washing act is made real for us on a daily basis.

Clothing

The women , old and young, come out of a hut with no electricity and no floor dressed liked models in two pieces of beautiful cloth called Kangas. They looked graceful as if they just walked out on a runway at a fashion show in New York or Paris. The cloth is clean, it appears to have been ironed, and it is wrapped in many ways. One way they wear it is the way we see Mother Mary depicted with Baby Jesus. The cloth seems to just be hanging from the top of her head and falls gently on either side of her shoulders. I cannot help but see Mary whipping that blue cloth from her head and putting Jesus on her back as she was busy cooking or walking just as I see the women doing here.

Communication

I can’t go but a few minutes without seeing a Bible verse being acted out. At the same time today is made evident when I chat with my sons on my computer in real time yet being thousands of miles away. We are just using land lines now and the internet connection is very, very slow; however we are due for wireless broadband next March. At that time we will be able to talk and see them on camera in real time. As I sit and find out about my son’s day, I am listening to drums in the background practicing for the upcoming elections in Tanzania and watching a man from the Masai tribe answering his cell phone. I am learning Kiswahili now, but I doubt I will be able to learn communication by drum. Many villages had cell phones before they ever had land lines to phones. In ten years, the ownership of cell phones went from 2000 to 2,000,000. Technology leaps are huge.

Building material

Building material is another across-the-ages observation that we see here. Sun-dried bricks are the material that we used for the learning center and the church in our compound. This is the cheapest way to go rather than mud and sticks. Man has been using the sun dried brick method since 6000 B.C. No material for building here is imported. All the bricks are hand made. No machines make bricks in this part of Tanzania. The handmade bricks that are being used to build our house are fired. We see the mounds of bricks everywhere that have mud on the outside to seal the bricks inside. There is an arch that allows the wood to be placed inside this mound of bricks. When the fire is lit, an awful smell rises and penetrates your nasal cavity to let you know that the bricks are now becoming stronger and will not dissolve in the rain. Because we are using fired brick for our house, we will not have to cover them with cement to protect them from the weather as we did with the learning center and the church. With the knowledge of the fired bricks being used the same way in 6000 B.C. my mind quickly envisions the old woman looking for her lost coins in her brick home in the fifteenth chapter of Luke. I also see Jesus knocking at the door of a home much like mine will be. Government buildings are made of cement blocks. They, too, are built on the spot. Not in a factory and not imported.

Delivery Methods

As we build each building in our compound, which will be used to train the Methodist evangelists of Tanzania, we have a three-day watering period to make sure that the concrete sets well. We found water, and we have a well, but it does not bring the water to each construction site. Women in the neighborhood are paid to carry the water in five gallon buckets on their heads to the newest construction and splash the water on the wet cement. This method of delivery is used the most. We see women and children on the side of the road caring various things in buckets and in baskets and sometimes just bundled up with the cloth balanced on their head. When I see the large beautiful clay pots being carried on their heads, I am reminded of the woman at the well.

If we buy a chair in town and they say they will deliver it, it comes in a hand cart pulled by a young man. To get firewood or charcoal to the market, these are precariously tied on the backs of their bicycles and taken to market in another town. As a bicycle carrying a wide load of sticks was passing a lady bringing water home in a jug on her head with a sleeping baby snuggled on her back, we were passing the bicycle and avoiding the donkey on the other side of the road in our four-wheel-drive. All of this was on the same page in Tanzania in 2005. Many people have their own donkey. They make pouches to hold goods on either side of the donkey. I feel the need to place palm leaves in front of the donkey like Jesus was riding into Jerusalem. Whether I am delirious from the malaria that I keep getting or I really see the likeness to Bible times, this place keeps me close to Jesus

.

Education

The oral language of Jesus time is also connected to today's education. Parables and stories to make a point are used here daily. Tanzania as well as other countries in Africa have a book famine. To watch children trying to learn to read and trying to learn math without a book is like watching Jesus and the disciples trying to teach with only the oral story. It must be working here because Tanzania has a larger percentage of literate adults than Arkansas. We may have the person here who can solve poverty or cure cancer, but if we can’t stop the book famine we will never know. I am trying to open a public library here in Bunda. They don’t even know what a public library is. I will have to have classes to teach the use of a public library. Go to booksforafrica.org to find out how to help books come to Africa. We will have a container come here in January to start our first library ever in Bunda.

In the dark, with the lantern shining on our laptop, Charles and I will be watching Jesus’ time go by while our time is going by in this, our last adventure. We just wanted you to take a peek through our eyes with us. Charles and I are so very happy here. We appreciate your prayers.

Karen(Lusby) and Charles Wiggins

About Charles and Karen Wiggins:

Charles attended Boston University from 1988 to 1992 where he received his Master of Divinity degree in Theology, Philosophy, and Ethics. He also has a Master of Arts in English from California State Polytechnic University and completed his studies for a Ph.D. in British literature from the University of Arkansas. Instead of writing his dissertation, Charles entered seminary in Boston. Charles and

Karen received their undergraduate degrees from McMurry where she was in T.I.P. and Charles was in Ko Sari. Karen taught for 40 years before retiring to be a missionary. Charles has been a minister for 20 years. Their goal is to create a Learning Center complex for the new Methodist Church of Tanzania.

With 40 churches and 4 ministers, Charles is called to teach the lay ministers who are carrying the bulk of the load at the churches. They are buying a bicycle for each of the lay ministers at the rate of one a month. The first seminar was this month. Karen will be giving lessons in sanitation and hygiene with her training from LifeWater of California in January. She will also be active in getting the books to Bunda and starting the first public library there.

Through the United Methodist Church and the One Book Foundation construction groups of 12 to 15 people come to Bunda to build churches and the buildings in the complex, as well as medical/dental teams, well drilling teams, and sanitation and hygiene training. In the complex, the Bunda Methodist Church is completed, the learning center completed, and the house and the fence are going up now with the first dorm room begun today. God is good--all the time.

Karen and Charles are volunteer missionaries under the General Board of Global Ministries and the Arkansas Conference of the United Methodist Church and the foundation that Charles started in Fayetteville.

THE ONE BOOK FOUNDATION

1910 Old Wire Road

Fayetteville, Arkansas 72703

They love e-mail!

Karen’s e-mail is mamaafrica@mac.com

Charles’ e-mail is revwigg@mac.com

Bricks an Economic Microcosm

Bricks: the Sign of Progress and Prosperity in Bunda, Tanzania,

and an Economic Microcosm.

by Karen Wiggins

We get to see things as if we were flies on the fence which seems to be a violation of the privacy of the people here in the Lake Region of Tanzania, but everything here is out in the open. Many times what I see is just too wonderful to be left alone.  Making bricks is one of those wonders.  My neighbors are wonderful, hard working people.  This last month, we have watched again as last year in the dry season, the making of bricks which is a large family and neighbor's endeavor  to make enough money to get by another year. Now, I must explain that this making bricks is a very exhausting job.  All ages of people work at this day and night.  Even a small 4 year-old boy who swings a huge, heavy,  hoe--as fast and as hard as the legendary John Henry swung his hammer--all the while little Maira is singing his working song--and stopping only to pull his pants back up which inch downward a bit with every swing of his hoe..

I see women, men and children bringing buckets of water from the well to pour on the hard dirt.  It is almost as if they make a brick out of a brick because the dirt here is so hard.  This shows that a family has to have access to water to make bricks.  Here, the people near Lake Victoria or those that have access to a well are the only ones that can make bricks in the dry season.  Stirring the mud with a hoe and their feet makes it the consistency of rice pudding or ugali here.  The mud is wet but not drippy.  It will hold its shape if you roll it in a ball.  When it is of this density, men and women shovel this mixture into the molds made of wood nailed into a square divided into two rectangular, open shapes.  Our group has two molds that make two bricks each.  The mud loses some of the water when they punch the mud in the mold to squeeze and rake it off  at the top with a smooth hand.  If the mud is close by,  some can do this in just 30 seconds.  Soon they just pull the mold up and off, leaving the wet bricks to dry even more in a large flat area of the yard.  People go around that group of bricks with a large machete, cutting off the brick from the earth at just the right time and removing any imperfections--leaving a perfect rectangular prism ready for more drying on its end and later stacked within the kiln.  Both men and women and some children do all of the jobs. There are jobs of carrying the water, making mud, forming the bricks, cutting the bricks, stacking the bricks, throwing the bricks, and catching the bricks. The neighbor workers and family members get paid 1,000 shillings (about a dollar) a day by the owner of the home. No matter what the women are doing, they always wear a dress.  Sometimes the pay is by the day. Sometimes, it is by number of bricks.  Sometimes they are paid by the job. The owner of the house gets paid for the bricks sold.

The workers here are happy about the work because they cannot afford to build bricks at their own homes. Without good roads, and industry, the infrastructure does not bring many jobs. Usually it is just grow what you eat to keep your family alive.

Talking sometimes or whistling or singing, humming, and even telling jokes and laughing, the work gets done at a brisk speed.   We even heard them quietly working at night by the moonlight.  When it is day and the dangerously hot sun or "jua mkali" is high overhead, it is time to sit under a tree and rest.  As I write, some are still throwing mud--sealing the one finished hive of bricks.  They, too, will soon rest as it gets hotter.  As we just sent over three good papayas for the tree sitting time, we find big smiles all around.  That mud thrown on the outside seals the kiln or huge oven made of the bricks to be fired. The bricks are not put into a kiln, they become the kiln.  In some cases this structure is two or three stories high and we like to plan to leave on a safari on the day it is to be burned--it is not a good smell or "nuka" as they say here. 

At one point in the morning, we were watching a young four-year-old boy named Maira.  His little baby sister was crying her eyes out as she was held by a five-year-old girl unsuccessfully calming the little baby.  Maira was trying his hardest to distract the baby by singing and dancing.  Mom was making bricks and was slowing down because of all this crying.  She soon stopped as did Maira's singing.  Mom smiled at the baby and dusted herself off before reaching for her baby and cooing to her.  She took her baby and dusted the child's head off because brick making is a very dusty job.  Now that his sister was happy and not crying, Maira just dug in the mud with a huge hoe and his song changed to his working song accentuated with a tennis "ugh!"  Looking back at his mom who was pulling her kanga tight around her waist taking her young child and sitting on nothing but her heals as they do so easily here, Maira could concentrate on his work.  Talking and smiling to her youngest child Ephinniss then pulled the now very happy child close to her breasts and begin feeding her.  Nursing and cooing so contently now at one point the baby pulled her head away from her mom and looked upside down at the men mixing mud as if to say, "She is all mine now and you cannot use her for anything."  Back to nursing again she went, knowing she had been born in what seemed to her the richest part of the world.  Now fed and happy, the mother loved her once more and sat her down in the dirt as she went back to work.  The baby will stay right there until her mom bends at the waist, flips her baby onto her back, throws a kanga over baby and her back, tucks the kanga under the baby's bottom, and before she could pull it under one shoulder and tie it over the other shoulder, that baby was asleep.  Now work goes on with the little heartbeat going on mom's back as it once did a few months ago on her front.

Following the example of his whistling uncle, Maira pulled up a heavy, wet brick only up to his waist and he started walking parallel to our fence.  My husband was sitting on the porch watching him with admiration.  He walked 10 yards whistling and carrying that brick that was actually resting on his tummy as he walked holding it with both hands.  He stopped and turned to Charles, holding that brick on his bent knees, he smiled and waved with his other hand.  Turning his head back down the path the whistling began as he walked another 10 yards. It was quite a nice song. He again stopped but kept on whistling, placing his heavy brick again on his bent knees, he reached down to pull his pants up continuing to walk and whistle another 10 yards.  Just as his sister, he believes life is wonderful, and he is blessed to be a part of it.  Being poor is relative.  If he sees himself next to a very rich person I am not sure he would think that they were different in any way. Having a support group and love all around him, he is very content with his life.  When does he start feeling poor? Here it seems to be when he finds out that the primary school has not taught him enough English for him to pass a test in English to allow him to get into Secondary School. I believe that that is where the understanding of the split between rich and poor begins. 

Will there be enough people in Bunda to buy the bricks?  Supply and demand will soon be known after the bricks are completed.  Many homes are in the process of being built of bricks.  It seems that more and more people are building in Bunda.  These neighbors who built the bricks are counting on even more building going on here in the very poor part of a very poor country in Africa.  These families are showing a tremendous amount of faith.  Judging by the homes that are up six bricks high, they should have no trouble selling the bricks;  however we have brick hives all over town.  Unlike the moneyed countries with large banks and mortgage loans, our people do a job to get money and they buy bricks and cement and rocks. They just began building their home.  When the money runs out, they quit  building.  They do this year after year until the house is completed. Then they just move in. No Banks--No Loans--No Debts!  We have many homes that have just begun.  I have to say, they may be on to something.

Back to making bricks:  When all the bricks are dry, the special people that know how to stack them come. One person throws the brick to another person on the top of the beginning tower. Top person quickly places it in just the right place and reaches up to grab the next brick that is in the air.  I know they must hurt all over at night after a day of playing a game of brick tossing and catching. The bricks are stacked like a tower making sure air or smoke can get in between each brick to another. The bricks become the kiln.  On the very bottom layer of bricks two compartments are left empty for the placement of wood to burn when the whole tower of bricks is ready and sealed with mud on the outside. Straw is on top so in case it rains the bricks will not turn back into mud.  Dirt is thrown two stories high onto the straw when it is time to burn the bricks.  Seeing a man get a shovelful of dirt and heave it up that high was amazing.  We see some of these towers when something went wrong and they just left the tower alone and grass started growing on top.   Friends have told us that sometimes no one buys bricks because the owner was arrogant.  No one wants to buy bricks from someone that is arrogant.  I know other countries mix straw in the mud in their bricks.  Well, they say here adding straw in the brick makes them break with the heat.  I do not know.  I think this is the oldest way to make bricks;  however, it only came to Bunda 20 years ago.  Knowing that bricks were made this way in the time of Jesus, I just must say:  "Brilliant, Just Brilliant!"  We see so many trades that are done just as just as the people in the Bible.  Even the dhows in Lake Victoria are built just like the one Jesus was in.

Building with these bricks is another story.  They cement over the inside and outside of the bricks to make the house stronger. 

Right now trucks with big sisal logs and other tree logs are being delivered to burn the bricks. Wood is so hard to get.  This is one of the reasons for us to sell solar cookers and the Bio-sand Filters.  Both cut down on the use of charcoal.  No one is allowed to cut down trees, yet the people still find trees in a barren places to make and sell charcoal.  How else can the people cook?  We do have some lumber yards for making furniture and doors and windows.  Wood is so scarce that it is just really expensive. Enough Mninga wood to make a door is 150,000 Tsh and Mtunda is 90,000 Tsh.  This place where I live now was a heavy forest in the '50s.  Now it only has shrubs. 

After listening to them quietly work all night and one hive being lit to begin the burning process and the other neighbor still making bricks, we awake to see them working very fast as if they have some sort of time limit to make.  As we ask, this morning, it seems to be the thought that it will rain today.  One large rain would kill all the weeks worth of work that has taken place.  Without a cloud in the sky and no sign of rain (we do not get the weather channel here), all the people seem to think that it will rain today.  Juliana seems to agree and she wants them to hurry.  She has land with a small shack on it where she is living now and plans to buy some of these bricks so she can have a house one day.  All is woven together in this community with its own economy.  This is just a snap shot of the economy of the world really. I wish we could all understand.  Bunda is a economic microcosm. 

Weather was not the reason for the quick speed that occurred this morning.  It seems that they mixed so much mud last night that they must hurry and make bricks before the morning sun dries out that mud.  If it does dry before they mold it, they will have to do all the mud making over that they did last night.

When the our young women U.S. visitors were here, they would eat their dinner really fast and run over to help make bricks and play with the children.  What a joy. The American director of "Tears of the Sun", said that "If you get the red dirt of Africa on your feet, you will have Africa in your heart forever."  I say, "If you look at the possibility shown in the eye of an African child, your heart must find a way to help educate them."

One must  have money to make bricks. You must have:  Water source, Money to pay workers, Money to buy wood to burn, Land to make bricks, Money to put nourishment back into the now stripped soil so you can have a garden when the rains come again. However, some make sun dried bricks (no firing) and build homes with that.  They will wash away in a few years. 

As I write, that four-year-old boy just started singing one of his songs.  It is now a call and response song.  You have to laugh.  That precious little boy sings something and all the adults respond.  If he keeps that up, we will have to put him through college. Oh, Dear!  Me! Charles already walked over to give him some candy.   That little boy has no idea how rich he really is.

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.  Let him step to the music he hears, however measured or far away."  Henry David Thoreau

God's Animals

We were blessed with a trip to see animals on July 1, 2009, in the Serengeti National Park.  For eleven years, in southern California in the 1970's and '80's, I took my class to the L.A. zoo.  I knew just what to do.  I would tell the kids to hurry when we entered the zoo and follow the signs to Africa.  If we did not rush, we would not make it to the African animals.  We did the best fast-walk-without-running to the last and best exhibit of animals...AFRICA!

Now that I live in Tanzania, I love the African animals because it seems as if everything is the same as they have been from the beginning of time.  When the environment is the same and the animals are free and doing the same things as they have done for thousands of years, one feels as if one is experiencing something wonderful on this planet.

It was unusual this trip in the Serengeti in that the animals were all so close to the roads.  A group of giraffes came up to the car and then crossed in front of the car.  They were my favorite in the zoo. Now I just don't have favorites.  It is the whole that is my favorite.

At one point my view was just spellbound. No need for binoculars. It was right in front of my eyes.  It was as if all the animals got the memo to meet at this one old tree and act naturally.  In the huge old tree, cleaning himself like a little house cat, was a leopard.  Around the base of the tree were families of elephants of all different ages eating grass and scratching their backs on that old tree.  Baby elephants were gently patting their moms with their trunks as if to ask if it were time to nurse now.  Old female elephants were helping direct the babies.  All of this was right next to us, just a few meters away.  In the near background, behind the tree, were zebras showing their blur of stripes for interest all across the close horizon.  Just had to soak this up, and feel I experienced the whole of the marvels here. 

The drama occurred at the hippo pool at noon.  When we arrived we saw a herd of

zebras mulling around. Some were lined up.  Some were eating the sparse grass.  Some were just skittishing around.  Some were just resting their heads on the backs of others.  I said to myself how unique it is that their fingerprint is all over their body.

A select group of twenty zebras were standing at the edge of a small  hippo pool.  One caller zebra was watching the hippos that were around the corner of the "L" shaped pond sound asleep.  He would call out very loudly somewhat like a mad horse.  At that time the chosen twenty zebra's ran splashing in and as they drank, they kept running in place to stir up the water.  This sounded like our old generator. I kept looking around for what was making that noise.  The drinking continued for almost three minutes until the caller zebra sounded again at which time all twenty turned around and ran up the slow slanting beach for safety.  Not long out of the water, the caller sounded again and all the choice zebras went back in.  This happened many times until a few just stopped believing that worry-wart of a caller and kept drinking. 

This was repeated so many times that it made me want to stay right there watching this all day.  This excitement was happening in the middle of the Serengeti not far from the Visitors Center.  I so wanted to see if some of the other zebras got a chance to play this game.  I so wanted to see if the sleepy hippos got tired of all the water churning and just ate one.  But we live in Bunda and all our money goes to our running our mission.  We can have a safari once every four years. We only take a day for the safari. We drive twenty minutes to the Ndabaka Gate on the west side of the Serengeti, look at the animals, and drive back out before six o'clock at night. This time we took our son Keith from the U.S. and our son John who works here with our mission. 

What a joy it was to observe all these things together in just one day.   Many of the animals were right on the road.  We saw the end of the wildebeest migration, thousands of zebras, five families of wart hogs. six herds of elephants, thirty giraffes, many Tompson Gazelles, Topi, Impalas and much, much more. I especially liked the old elephants with all their wrinkles showing the many experiences they have had.  Do you think God showed me that with an understanding that I can might better accept the aging of my own skin? 

How blessed we have been to experience this holy place. How sad we will be if we ever lose it because of not taking care of our planet. 

Hakuna Matatizo!  Hakuna Vita!  Hakuna Haraka!

(no worries, no war, and no hurry)

God's Animals

We were blessed with a trip to see animals on July 1, 2009, in the Serengeti National Park.  For eleven years, in southern California in the 1970's and '80's, I took my class to the L.A. zoo.  I knew just what to do.  I would tell the kids to hurry when we entered the zoo and follow the signs to Africa.  If we did not rush, we would not make it to the African animals.  We did the best fast-walk-without-running to the last and best exhibit of animals...AFRICA!

Now that I live in Tanzania, I love the African animals because it seems as if everything is the same as they have been from the beginning of time.  When the environment is the same and the animals are free and doing the same things as they have done for thousands of years, one feels as if one is experiencing something wonderful on this planet.

It was unusual this trip in the Serengeti in that the animals were all so close to the roads.  A group of giraffes came up to the car and then crossed in front of the car.  They were my favorite in the zoo. Now I just don't have favorites.  It is the whole that is my favorite.

At one point my view was just spellbound. No need for binoculars. It was right in front of my eyes.  It was as if all the animals got the memo to meet at this one old tree and act naturally.  In the huge old tree, cleaning himself like a little house cat, was a leopard.

Around the base of the tree were families of elephants of all different ages eating grass and scratching their backs on that old tree.  Baby elephants were gently patting their moms with their trunks as if to ask if it were time to nurse now.  Old female elephants were helping direct the babies.  All of this was right next to us, just a few meters away.  In the near background, behind the tree, were zebras showing their blur of stripes for interest all across the close horizon.  Just had to soak this up, and feel I experienced the whole of the marvels here. 

The drama occurred at the hippo pool at noon.  When we arrived we saw a herd of

zebras mulling around. Some were lined up.  Some were eating the sparse grass.  Some were just skittishing around.  Some were just resting their heads on the backs of others.  I said to myself how unique it is that their fingerprint is all over their body.

A select group of twenty zebras were standing at the edge of a small  hippo pool.  One caller zebra was watching the hippos that were around the corner of the "L" shaped pond sound asleep.  He would call out very loudly somewhat like a mad horse.  At that time the chosen twenty zebra's ran splashing in and as they drank, they kept running in place to stir up the water.  This sounded like our old generator. I kept looking around for what was making that noise.  The drinking continued for almost three minutes until the caller zebra sounded again at which time all twenty turned around and ran up the slow slanting beach for safety.  Not long out of the water, the caller sounded again and all the choice zebras went back in.  This happened many times until a few just stopped believing that worry-wart of a caller and kept drinking. 

This was repeated so many times that it made me want to stay right there watching this all day.  This excitement was happening in the middle of the Serengeti not far from the Visitors Center.  I so wanted to see if some of the other zebras got a chance to play this game.  I so wanted to see if the sleepy hippos got tired of all the water churning and just ate one.  But we live in Bunda and all our money goes to our running our mission.  We can have a safari once every four years. We only take a day for the safari. We drive twenty minutes to the Ndabaka Gate on the west side of the Serengeti, look at the animals, and drive back out before six o'clock at night. This time we took our son Keith from the U.S. and our son John who works here with our mission. 

What a joy it was to observe all these things together in just one day.   Many of the animals were right on the road.  We saw the end of the wildebeest migration, thousands of zebras, five families of wart hogs. six herds of elephants, thirty giraffes, many Tompson Gazelles, Topi, Impalas and much, much more. I especially liked the old elephants with all their wrinkles showing the many experiences they have had.  Do you think God showed me that with an understanding that I can might better accept the aging of my own skin? 

How blessed we have been to experience this holy place. How sad we will be if we ever lose it because of not taking care of our planet. 

Hakuna Matatizo!  Hakuna Vita!  Hakuna Haraka!

(no worries, no war, and no hurry)

The Joy of Giving

We have about 20 papaya trees.  Wow!  They produce like rabbits.  When we climb up and harvest them, they fill our kitchen floor stacked up 4 deep.  One thing I have enjoyed doing is teaching the joy of giving.  Many of the people all over the world that have so much money today that they are enjoying the new feeling of helping people.  I love reading about it on twitter and face book.  No one knows that feeling until they truly help someone. It is really an emotion that has been hiding in our "Me" culture.  

That is why I have started showing the very poor people here how to enjoy that emotion.  They too have been denied that feeling because they have not had enough to help others.  When we have a papaya harvest come in, I let my workers take all the papayas and just give them away to the neighbors.  They all ask how much they should pay.  We loved paying the McDonald's bill for the person behind us in the drive through back when we lived in the States.  Acts of Kindness are so contagious. 

Some here already knew about that joy.  All want you to come in their home and offer you food and drink.  Once Charles went to a man's hut way out in the nowhere. The old man served him a very hot coke proudly having had his son run a long way to a duka to buy that hot coke.  This old man was so proud of having Charles in his home that as Charles was leaving, this old mzee  gave Charles his only piece of furniture in his hut.  This gift was a three legged stool.  Charles had to take it.  The Joy of Giving is huge.

As you can see on the faces of our workers and even the children who just cut  up their papayas and ate them right on the bricks they were making. 

I just love what this does.  

What a joy for me.  What a joy for the neighbors.  What a joy for our family that works here.

Karen

Mama's Get away in May 2009

Happy Mother's day!  

As I wait for my bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich on my last get-a-way day, I  watch the fifteen different birds that I will have to look up in my bird book when I get home.  Across my empty table, behind the palm tree, I see a finger of a pink Lake Victoria.  The sun is not quite down yet, but it is quickly on its way because we are on the equator and when it is time, the sun just drops off.  Within those few seconds, if a cloud is in the sky anywhere, everything turns pink and purple.  Looking across the pink ripple water the hill full of houses takes on that color too.  Framing the hill are swirling, fluffy purple clouds ever so proud of their placement.

Receiving my B.L.T (actually tasting like a B.L.T.) I looked above those clouds and saw the moon with a halo.  Seven eagles flew over eying my french-fries.  Luckily they did not dive down to grab food off of my plate this time as they did one morning steeling my roll as if it were some sort of rodent.  I keep watching them with suspicion though. My Mama Africa stern teacher look seems to keep them at bay.

My scene in front of me looks ever so much like movies have shown me the Riviera must look like.  I can convince myself at the moment that I am there and not in Mwanza, the second largest city in Tanzania where 650,000 people live.  With all the everyday decisions of running a mission and all the sad let-downs of people deceiving us, we need a get away every so often.  This has been a nice one for me.

I have had a massage, some exercise in a nice clean pool, good meals, reading time, T.V. time, browsing on broad-band computer time, praying time, planning time, and no one to answer to.

But when I awake in the morning to pack and go home, my Riviera will go back to being just what it is -- illegal box homes built on the hill filled with very poor people with no plumbing and no clean water, trying to make it in this Tanzanian world of poverty--many with AIDs, many without food or work.

I hope my imaginary trip (to the Riviera) will help me to be strong enough to be a better missionary.  I hope we can get clean water to those beautiful people. Hope we can get the Word to them.  Hope we can get education to them.

"God not only knows where He is taking you, but He also knows how to get you there."  Roy Lessin

very HOT today, but miracle of miracles we have both umeme (that's swahili for power) and internet (that's swahili for internet).