"Authentic empowerment comes to you with God's kiss of knowledge.”

The second group of wives of Methodist pastors and evangelists just turned “Seminar” into “Holy Spirit”. These women came to Maisha na Maji came from some of the churches I have visited over the last few months. We added drying meat to our seminar at my son’s suggestion. I can’t believe how important that was for these beautiful women. John has been making it for months just because we missed having it. Doing research for the “how to dry meat” for the women with the United Nations website, we did not just give them a hand out, we turned the making of it over to them. Each morning they hung it out and covered it with net. Each night we took it in. It was hard for me to help once then let them take over.

I guess teaching kindergarten taught me that they must have ownership to really learn a new skill.

"Authentic empowerment comes to you with God's kiss of knowledge.” We also had to ask the question, "Do we have to have all this illness? Just how can we block the bacteria?"

The last lesson was looking at the pictures of healthy ways of living and seeing if it would be easy to change it or hard to change it to the healthy way. I love it when they say it would be easy to change all the things they are not doing yet; however, I had to wait to hear from John to tell me it was easy to adapt to the new healthier ways to live in their environment. I was so exhausted that I just had to go in the house to lay down and let John finish that last lesson before dinner.

After dinner the women again came to take the dried meat down but this time, they put five pieces in a bag to take home and finish drying at home. As always, when this group likes what they are learning, they praise God in song. I just love it. Joy just comes up from their toes and they move and sing and they harmonize and they take the beef down. I know they will use this wonderful way to get more protein in their families diet and not eat the whole goat when they kill it. They can't wait to tell others this skill. They sang about the meat lasting six months. They sang thanks to God. They sang Father, Father, Father. To hear their happiness you can see it on U tube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XA_msAWaihY

Asleep at nine p.m. at what I thought was for the night, I was a very tired but a really happy camper. In a haze of sleep I heard the harmony again. Not quiet knowing if John was playing a movie, if it was a dream or if I had died and heard the angels. My mind thought it could hear slaves singing "Wade in the Water" in the southern Churches in the U.S. as they were singing a code to protect their Brothers and Sisters on the Under Ground Railroad.

I heard Dr. M.L .King, Jr. with his speeches of "Equality". I heard the pain of women from many countries that many times do not have that equality but long for it. The song I was hearing in my haze was reminiscent of the call and response of songs like the Black Churches from the 50's. There was even a pinch of Michael Jackson and the Jackson five as sung in talent shows by my students when I was a teacher in Pomona, California in the 1970's. One glimpse was of hearing Spirituals sung by the white choirs in white churches as they tried to get that soulful sound but correcting the English as they sang. In my dazed condition, all these images and sounds were swirling around in my head as if God was folding sugar into egg whites. God let me know that the thing I am watching here in Bunda, Tanzania, and the thing I am listening to is much bigger than the pain I am in or the women saying thank you or the Methodist Church and their problems or the little people in the government that are trying to stop the library. God knows that this world and universe is much more important. He is putting together something BIG. Just get on his bus or jump off. At 11:30 p.m., women wrapped in Kangas hummed and wrapped up plans with their old friends and their new friends. I watched them glide pass my window still humming softly and slipping into their clean rooms to sleep this their last night at Maisha na Maji. This time brought me a peace only God can give.

Rice in Tanzania

From Paddy to Table to Bricks

by Karen Wiggins

Rice is one of the wonderful crops around here in East Africa. As I drive from here to there through the seasons, I love watching all the hard work that happens. Growing rice is one of those things that I love to observe. Building up the earth to about two feet high into mini swimming pools to capture the rain, the women work hard in the fields even before the rains come. All women here wear dresses every day. It is sometimes two dresses. One is underneath and a piece of cloth is wrapped around their waist. Another kanga (dress-like material) is tied around her head. With all these colorful African shapes and flowers shining like Christmas tree ornaments all over the fields, I am amazed with the wonderful ease with which they bend at the waist like a clothes pin and stand so proud and graceful to a perfect posture of a model. This happens again and again in all the steps of growing rice.

Now that the walls of all the pits are made trying to look like a beautiful quilt and succeeding, we just wait for the rain to fill them. Not too much time for the women to wait in the process of making rice. This is just one of those times. When the rains come filling the pits, these same women return to plant the rice. Those I have seen are planting the shoots not seeds. This calls for them to kind of tie the bottom of their skirt and kanga up to their knees. With bare feet, they wade out with their basket on their arm full of shoots. They again bend pushing their arm down to the water planting and up to get more. I am reminded of a little toy I saw as a child that had a bird that would bob up and down with a weight on his tail retrieving toothpicks I think. The speed they have with job is fascinating. These are most always women. Some are old. Some are young, all are fast. They may be paid very little for this task but they all know this means food for the future for everyone.

The rice seems to grow very fast but this is again a waiting period. Still many come to see if all is well and the cattle or other animals are not coming and breaking down the dikes that hold the water in. Much the same as watching this process in Arkansas, but without the tools that make the work easier.

Once the rice is above the water line with a beautiful green glow, the quilt is looking even more beautiful. Workers still have to watch the rice to keep cows who also think it is beautiful and want to eat it at this stage. Birds really are not a problem yet until the rice comes. Waiting until the time for the rice comes is not a long wait now. Birds will eat the rice even before it is ready to harvest. This is when the women make scarecrows to stand in the field. Many fields have live scarecrows standing out in the paddies. These can be young boys or those same women. Within a week, some white birds that have a real appetite for rice can eat one entire field in just a week. All that work thus far would have been for nothing.

Harvest time is really busy. Still having to watch those birds, they cut off the long strands of stems and leaves with the rice on the end. They have a tarp ready for the hard work of hitting the stems on the tarp to release the rice that are still in the husks. This job looks really hard and many times you see men helping with this task. Filling the bags with this, they take it home. Almost every home and store has tarps covered with this rice in the husk drying. When it is dried, you see women with a flat basket throwing them up to let the letting the wind blow away the husks and leaving the rice in their basket. I flash to Jesus time every time I see this. This creates many mountains of husks. We know the rice will be saved in the house, sold at market, and 10% given to the church. But what about the husks.

Some go to feed chickens. Most of it will go to make rice bricks. Just add water, press into a form, let it dry and they have a yellow brick. They stack them is a way where there is space between the bricks and put fire in the middle. They do not cover it with mud like fired mud bricks. They just cook them. They look very nice and are said to be very strong.

With just a brief visit here you may get the impression that my friends are uneducated. Uneducated and brilliance can be in the same person. They may not know how to read or write, but they can still know how to solve problems.

Humbled--Just Humbled

Humbled, Just humbled

by Karen Wiggins or Mama Africa

This last week end was just a joy. Not sure why in five years it has not come to me as a need. I give sanitation and hygiene workshops for churches, health workers and even pregnant women. They were very successful but this week end was just a touch of heaven.

We are here, among other things, to grow the Methodist churches in Tanzania. I invited the wives of the ministers and lay ministers to come here and have a workshop for them, thinking that the information would be helpful for them and in-turn helpful for their village.

While I took the training for this workshop in the U.S. before we sold everything and moved to Tanzania, I laughed. The information I was learning was so simple and so well know I could not imagine how it could help anyone. I have lost count of the seminars I have given, but in each one, I have had mamas tell me that I have saved her children’s lives. Learning how to clean water, make a drink to put back water into the body when it is dehydrated, how disease is transmitted and how to block that transmission are all priceless information in third world countries. I am not laughing now.

This workshop is done in a non-threatening way sitting in a circle. Everyone is looking eye to eye and no one is better than the other. Because it is done with pictures and not print, even those who can’t read learn and think and solve problems. All talk and feel good about participating. I see even the shy ones begin to get confidence as we go.

It is always a happy and rewarding to see the eyes of the men and women who learn these simple things. When I go to a church where I see babies with flies on their face, I say to my son, we have to come here for a seminar. We do not see it in the places we give the seminar.

This seminar was very different. I knew these women were the back bone of our Methodist Churches. To continue Methodism in Tanzania, we must love these women. Having them come here for three nights and days was the best way to do it. Doing it this way is much easier than John and I to going to each village. With three days and three nights for them to get to know each other, turned out to be a very good idea and I did not have to rush. I could give them the whole lesson. I was so happy.

Not all the mamas were able to come but the ones that did learned so much. We served three meals a day. They eat one meal a day. We cleaned their rooms. They are used to cleaning their own house even with some having dirt floors. We gave them time to pray in the chapel or have a free rest time. They work all day long at home. I had no idea how wonderful this was going to be for them. I remember listening to a radio show called Queen for a day when I was little. Women were chosen Queen for a day and they were given wonderful things that they needed. This week end was far better than those gifts and prizes. They were made to feel special. They did not have to work or cook or wash or collect water. They were Queens for three days. I had no Idea where God was going with this, but it was well worth digging into our future car repair envelope to make this happen.

Sunday Morning after breakfast, we reviewed, rejoiced, and even marched with joy before we went to the Bunda Church worship.

When I went into the cottages after church, all the beds were made and the cottages were spotless. In each room I could hear each, mama say, “Thanks for my vacation.”

So Many Ways To Die!

So Many Ways To Die!

by Karen Wiggins or Mama Africa

Here we are in one of the poorest places in the world, Bunda Tanzania, Africa. In my seminar, we listed all the reasons the ladies and their family members might need to go to the doctor. This gave us an idea of the health problems of their villages. Writing them on the board, we could refer back to them later when we might come up with a solution to prevent it or to cure it later as we continue our Sanitation and Hygiene class. Looking at all the problems here on the board, I am saddened again as I think of all people here try to overcome to try to have a happy healthy life: Cholera, H.I.V./ Aids, T.B. Infections, Malaria, and other parasites--the lists go on seemingly forever.

I was called out of the class to be informed that our security guard would not be in today. His baby girl was killed when a wall in his house fell on her. I screamed and cried, “That is not on the list.” The list is enough. Just because we have such a long list, we do not get exempted from accidents. Just ask Jenni Silas. Her husband (who in an effort to avoid someone in the road as he rode his bike) fell down and was hit by a bus before he could get up a year ago. She was sitting in our class and she remembered that as well.

Amos’s little girl was not named yet. They do not name the babies right away because, “They may not stay”. His other little girl, Sussi, is just a little older. His two sons were in my English Class two years ago. Now all Amos’ family were very sad. Even with so much death here, we do not stop grieving because we are used to it. Every death hurts.

I told the class I would have to go while they ate lunch. All of the women understood why I had to go. The whole of the neighbors stop and come when a neighbor dies. They sit in the yard on rocks, in the dirt, on a log, under a tree or just anywhere. So as they waited for the fish to be ready with the ugali (corn bread dough), I drove to Amos’ house to sit on one of those rocks near his collapsed home with the other friends.

Just imagine filling a yahtzee cup full of dried beans. Throw those out on a dried plot of dirt. That is how the neighborhood planning is here. The beans are the houses and the little bit of dirt are the yards in-between the houses. The road is not next to the houses so I walk past all the neighbors greeting them yet too sad to stop and talk. I go in what I believe is a neighbor’s house and hug Amos. His whole body just shook as I held him. Going into the bedroom of this house I see the small casket that we bought. Next to it was Amos’s wife. She was unable to talk or cry or look at me. She was in shock and she just shook. Next to her was a small blanket. Someone pulled it back and it was the baby that I did not want to see. Her face was like something from pictures from the earthquake in Haiti. She had to be dug out of bricks even though the bricks were just dried mud, they were heavy enough to kill her.

Looking at the death scene I was just amazed. Amos’s old fallen house had had a room fall in a month ago. It was just an ant hill mountain looking thing of devolved bricks now. We have had so much hard rain here that the water rushing by each house made of sun dried bricks, just started devolving like sand castles when the waves come in from the bottom until the top crashes down.

Then I sat outside, thinking of it all. As I look around, all the women tried to think of funny things to whisper about. Some called my name. “Mama Africa” I greeted them and went back to my thoughts. Paul (our worker that came with me) broke the rules and came to sit with me near the women and away from the men. He was explaining as if I did not know, how people here co-operate with each other. Thinking how wonderful that is with maybe 75 people here just being here for Amos and his wife, my thoughts were interrupted by crowds of people screaming, “Wiizi, Wiizi!” A train of people running, screaming and snaking thorough the houses and through the wake of people. They were following a young man who stole something. Some of the people at Amos’ even got up to chase. I pray that they will not kill the thief.

I had to get back to my seminar, but Amos understood. I gave him our car and driver to go to bury his youngest daughter. Taking the taxi back home, I know too well where I live. I live in Bunda Tanzania in East Africa near Lake Victoria.

Why do they have nothing and have so much hope and so many have so much and seem to have no hope?

Methodists in Tanzania

Lamadi or Ramadi 25 April 2010

Looking so much like the country of of my childhood in West Texas as we pass the Serengeti driving from Bunda to our church in Lamadi, I am filled with joy as I watch grazing Zebra and Wildebeest. This joy reminds me of the joy of watching the brief moment that the Dogwood’s bloom and sparkle under the shade of larger trees. This is something we used to see as we drove to Elkins and Winslow from Fayetteville, Arkansas, when my husband was just starting his ministry. I always feel that when I get to see some of God’s wonders, he has just given me a zawati (gift). I always feel blessed to be able to see it and recognize it as a gift. This was just one of those wonderful close times with my Lord.

Heading for Lamadi

Some tribes use r for l. Other tribes use l for r. Therefore Lamadi has a sign saying Lamadi on one end of the town and Ramadi on the other side. Passing the large cabbages sold on the road under a tree, we turn left onto a path between shops winding around down town Lamadi to a school that is being used for the Lamadi Methodist Church. They are trying to raise money to build a church of their own like so many Methodist churches.

Having Church with our Lamadi friends

Arriving about 10:00 only a few were there and we begin our greetings which is a must in East Africa. “Welcome, How are you? How is your family? How is your town?” Looking around for the little girl I met last year, not finding her I wondered how she might look now. This church is made up of many orphaned children and widows. Many are rejected by many in the town. When Minister Daniel came yesterday to our house we gave him a soccer ball and a pump for it. He has had youth joining the church and they want to have a soccer team. I explained to them about a church that tried that and let the kids practice without adult supervision and how they fought over the ball and left the church. He promised to always keep the watch over the team. It looked as if he really had that interest. I told them I wanted to see a game sometime. That made all the youth very happy.

Looking around

I get a wonderful sense of the presence of the Holy Spirit when I walk into the churches even it they are held in schools. With six windows on each side of the room, each window had one kanga (A piece of cloth with a saying on it). All four corners were tied to the security bar at the edge of the window. The middle was tied so it had two big triangles to look like a butterfly. This is often the decorations in our churches. As I walk in I am hit with the usual smells of Tanzania. I could detect musty fire smell, urine, Skunk from the choo, and citrus. Citrus? I wondered. That is new. Mamas put receiving blankets on the babies as diapers. We had five babies, twenty young children, fifteen young adults and twenty adults. Later, I saw the little boy with the orange. Ah ha! Citrus

The songs

The songs were wonderful. They had no drums or keyboard. Just the clapping of the hands that sounded like a wonderful percussion band. How do they do it? I looked over

and saw one young man clapping on his Bible making a base drum sound. One boy was clapping double time. One was clapping every fourth beat. It was just beautiful. I was amazed as I always am with the Holy Spirit that made them all so happy. This is one of the poorest areas of the country and Tanzania is one of the poorest countries in Africa. Halliluya! Praise the Lord! Amen! In every song you could hear the word Tumaini! (Hope) Why do they have nothing and have so much hope and so many have so much and seem to have no hope? Make a joyful noise unto the Lord! Indeed they did.

A group of 6 that attends Bible Study each week

Mchumgaji Daniel introduced the group of youth that come each week to study the Bible. They stood very proud and tall as he honored them. Five boys and one girl were very pleased that he had them stand. We are glad to give Bibles for this purpose when the ministers ask for them. Minister Daniel’s, wife is also a lay Minister. I am sure she helps with the Bible Study.

Nursing Mothers in Church.

One lady walked in with a beautiful print dress with big flowers of bright pink and lime green. Walking beside her was a baby girl also in a long dress of that same Oprah green color. This child was not more than seven months old, yet she was walking. I think they learn to walk early here to keep from having to sit in the dirt. I have children just that young run out to wave at me as I drive by. They see their older brothers and sisters do it and the babies just sit up early and walk early.

In Church you will see the mamas nurse their babies when ever they need it as this beautiful woman did today. They do it with no shame and with all the love a mother can have. This culture does not look upon the breast as a sex object. It is for a baby’s nourishment only. When the mothers die of Malaria or AIDS, it is the loss of this nourishment that that puts the child in risk. It is the first two years of a baby’s life without a mother that is difficult. That is why we help with the Musoma Children’s home. They keep the orphans for two years and send them back to the extended family. The babies are cared for in a way that the families can not do for that two years.

Reflecting past the Zebras and Wildebeest going back home

Stopping to buy three Cabbage at the place where you can get the biggest Cabbages around, I was able to reflect on the Sprit filled day in Lamadi. God is so good.

Methodists in Tanzania

Lamadi or Ramadi 25 April 2010

Looking so much like the country of of my childhood in West Texas as we pass the Serengeti driving from Bunda to our church in Lamadi, I am filled with joy as I watch grazing Zebra and Wildebeest. This joy reminds me of the joy of watching the brief moment that the Dogwood’s bloom and sparkle under the shade of larger trees. This is something we used to see as we drove to Elkins and Winslow from Fayetteville, Arkansas, when my husband was just starting his ministry. I always feel that when I get to see some of God’s wonders, he has just given me a zawati (gift). I always feel blessed to be able to see it and recognize it as a gift. This was just one of those wonderful close times with my Lord.

Heading for Lamadi

Some tribes use r for l. Other tribes use l for r. Therefore Lamadi has a sign saying Lamadi on one end of the town and Ramadi on the other side. Passing the large cabbages sold on the road under a tree, we turn left onto a path between shops winding around down town Lamadi to a school that is being used for the Lamadi Methodist Church. They are trying to raise money to build a church of their own like so many Methodist churches.

Having Church with our Lamadi friends

Arriving about 10:00 only a few were there and we begin our greetings which is a must in East Africa. “Welcome, How are you? How is your family? How is your town?” Looking around for the little girl I met last year, not finding her I wondered how she might look now. This church is made up of many orphaned children and widows. Many are rejected by many in the town. When Minister Daniel came yesterday to our house we gave him a soccer ball and a pump for it. He has had youth joining the church and they want to have a soccer team. I explained to them about a church that tried that and let the kids practice without adult supervision and how they fought over the ball and left the church. He promised to always keep the watch over the team. It looked as if he really had that interest. I told them I wanted to see a game sometime. That made all the youth very happy.

Looking around

I get a wonderful sense of the presence of the Holy Spirit when I walk into the churches even it they are held in schools. With six windows on each side of the room, each window had one kanga (A piece of cloth with a saying on it). All four corners were tied to the security bar at the edge of the window. The middle was tied so it had two big triangles to look like a butterfly. This is often the decorations in our churches. As I walk in I am hit with the usual smells of Tanzania. I could detect musty fire smell, urine, Skunk from the choo, and citrus. Citrus? I wondered. That is new. Mamas put receiving blankets on the babies as diapers. We had five babies, twenty young children, fifteen young adults and twenty adults. Later, I saw the little boy with the orange. Ah ha! Citrus

The songs

The songs were wonderful. They had no drums or keyboard. Just the clapping of the hands that sounded like a wonderful percussion band. How do they do it? I looked over

and saw one young man clapping on his Bible making a base drum sound. One boy was clapping double time. One was clapping every fourth beat. It was just beautiful. I was amazed as I always am with the Holy Spirit that made them all so happy. This is one of the poorest areas of the country and Tanzania is one of the poorest countries in Africa. Halliluya! Praise the Lord! Amen! In every song you could hear the word Tumaini! (Hope) Why do they have nothing and have so much hope and so many have so much and seem to have no hope? Make a joyful noise unto the Lord! Indeed they did.

A group of 6 that attends Bible Study each week

Mchumgaji Daniel introduced the group of youth that come each week to study the Bible. They stood very proud and tall as he honored them. Five boys and one girl were very pleased that he had them stand. We are glad to give Bibles for this purpose when the ministers ask for them. Minister Daniel’s, wife is also a lay Minister. I am sure she helps with the Bible Study.

Nursing Mothers in Church.

One lady walked in with a beautiful print dress with big flowers of bright pink and lime green. Walking beside her was a baby girl also in a long dress of that same Oprah green color. This child was not more than seven months old, yet she was walking. I think they learn to walk early here to keep from having to sit in the dirt. I have children just that young run out to wave at me as I drive by. They see their older brothers and sisters do it and the babies just sit up early and walk early.

In Church you will see the mamas nurse their babies when ever they need it as this beautiful woman did today. They do it with no shame and with all the love a mother can have. This culture does not look upon the breast as a sex object. It is for a baby’s nourishment only. When the mothers die of Malaria or AIDS, it is the loss of this nourishment that that puts the child in risk. It is the first two years of a baby’s life without a mother that is difficult. That is why we help with the Musoma Children’s home. They keep the orphans for two years and send them back to the extended family. The babies are cared for in a way that the families can not do for that two years.

Reflecting past the Zebras and Wildebeest going back home

Stopping to buy three Cabbage at the place where you can get the biggest Cabbages around, I was able to reflect on the Sprit filled day in Lamadi. God is so good.