It's been a long week filled with visits galore. Sunday we went to a Swahili village up in the mountains. Monday we had our standard Swahili lessons. Tuesday and Wednesday we went to Maasai villages as well...pretty standard if I remember correctly. Things all start to run into each other when we don't really have anytime for a breather. So I apologize for the lack of details. My brain is in overload right now with everything that has happened this week.
After our village visit on Tuesday, Tim, Steve and I headed to the Hindu temple with some Indian friends of ours to celebrate Diwali. To quote Wikipedia, because I am not as eloquent of a writer...and I'm lazy...In Hinduism, Diwali is the homecoming of Lord Ram of Ayodhya, after a 14-year exile in the forest and his victory over the evil demon-king Ravan. In the legend, the people of Ayodhya (the capital of his kingdom) welcomed Ram by lighting rows of lamps. It is the festival of lights. It is the biggest celebration of the year for Hindus, just like Christmas is in the US. Diwali is very family oriented so when we saw people there, they were with their families. We went into the temple and got to see the statues of different gods and things. It was quite the experience. One of the big parts of the celebration, now in modern day time, is fireworks. I have never seen so many firecracker, m-80s, bottle rockets, roman candles, mortars and spark volcanos in my life. The air was filled with the sweet smell of incense and gun powder. It was incredible, and hardly anyone got hurt...unlike at home. The smell of the incense reminded me of home a little bit, because I burn the same type that they do...Ah sweet nostalgia.
We found out this week that a Maasai man was shot to death after a confrontation with men that were burning his land. The burning of land around here is very common. People burn the land to create parameters and areas where they don't want the Maasai to take their cattle. Unfortunately, most of the time the places that are burned actually belong to the Maasai people. So when this Maasai man tried to stop these men from burning his land he was gunned down. In retaliation to the man being murdered, Maasai warriors from that particular village slaughtered five men that were involved in the shooting. The local police and government has become involved with the investigation, which is bad for the Maasai men, since the police force is corrupt around here. Many Maasai men have and will be beaten by the police. Another turn in the story is that they village that killed the 5 men had 400 cattle stolen from them by what authorities are saying are accomplices of gunman. The reason I tell you these things is because we are heading to the village next Friday. This should be a very intense visit, I am curious to see how it pans out.
Yesterday, Tim and I trekked with several pastors, Luka, and PH to go pickup a prophet. A real, honest to goodness prophet. This man sees visions of Jesus and has prophesied with great accuracy. He is a very respected man in Tanzania. After picking up the prophet, we drove to a Maasai village where he had said that if the leader of the village didn't quit dealing in black magic and stop drinking heavily, he would die before the long rains came. Needless to say he died. When he spoke yesterday he sounded like something straight out of the Old Testament. He never made any big announcements, but made logical prophecies about the future of the village and things. He spoke again about not dealing in black magic and that they needed one another to grow and love God. He asked for nothing from the village and took nothing.
I don't really know how I feel about prophets and the idea of black magic. I am conflicted about all of it. You talk to most Tanzanians or those who work for the church and they will tell you that when people are possessed by demon they are truly possessed by a demon. I don't know if I believe this or not. It is really hard for me to believe it, because I was not brought up to believe in such things. I don't know if I really believe in evil in general. I think that there is a lack of good and I think that many things that happen actually come from experience (which I could explain the experience thing to you if you want to know), but to say that someone is evil or that there is evil in the world...I am not sure. It is definitely something that I have been debating for a long time and have had several conversations at length with people about. What is evil? What makes something evil? Do I believe in a devil, an entity that makes us do things against our will...no I don't, and I won't until I can be convinced otherwise. Perhaps it is just one concept that I can't wrap my mind around...
I am going to go think about it some more.
I'll try to write again sooner than I did last time.
Peace,
PHW
Friday, October 31, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Soko la ng'ombe
I thought I would write an entry tomorrow after we visit another village, but then I realized that my experiences today would probably not be as epically cool and details would be skipped out.
Today we went the cattle market. If you can remember way back when, we went to a cattle market about month ago... has been a month already? Wow, I guess it has. That means that it has also been about a month since I had malaria. I know this because the last time we were at the cattle market I felt unbelievably terrible for no reason. Not today though. Today was a special day. PH didn't have to pick up anybody along the way today so the four of us got to ride where there is leg room. For some reason I get the front seat whenever this extremely rare occasion happens. Maybe it's seniority, maybe it's height, maybe it's pity...who knows and who cares. Sitting in the front means direct access to the A/C vents MWAHAHAHA!!!!
When we got to the market we made the rounds with PH. Using our Swahili skills that we have acquired over the past month and a half of lessons. It was terrific to use our skills once again in a public setting. As the day went on I realized that I could understand about half the conversation around me. People bartering, people talking about their families, people talking about their cattle, their villages, their current life situation. It was amazing to hear it all because when we came last time I felt like I was watching a foreign film with no subtitles, now there are subtitles that turn themselves on and off...but there are still subtitles. None of us really bought to much as we walked around. Maybe some fabric, a pair of shoes, and a few knives. It was just great to walk around and meet new people and see some familiar faces. We drank and ate green coconuts. We ran into some limeys (the term originating in the late nineteenth century because of the former enforced consumption of lime juice to prevent scurvy in the British navy) while we were there and talked it up for ten to fifteen minutes. It was quite odd to see other white people around. It made me realize how much we must stick out like sore thumbs. Odd feeling, this realization.
Lunch rolled around...that meant GOAT!!!! YAY!! I love eating goat. We got some liver, ribs, and a leg. My father would absolutely love this meal, because it is meat with a side of meat with meat for dessert. After all the meat was eaten I was given one of the big leg bones along with PH. I had the Maasai man that we ate with crack open the bone so that I could have one of the great Maasai delicacies, that is to say the bone marrow. I impressed the Maasai around us as I sucked the bone dry until it whistled. If you ever wanted a cultural experience, this would be one to do. As the quasi-tasteless slime finds its way into your mouth you begin to think to yourself, this isn't too bad, I could think of a lot worse things it hits you. You are in Africa sucking out bone marrow with some crazy Americans, Tanzanian pastors and Maasai people. What an opportunity.
I have come to realize that I will not be really able to grasp all that I have done here while I am here. When my everyday life consists of studying Swahili with Tanzanians as my teachers, visting Maasai villages, riding in dala dala's, looking at the beautiful mountains behind the seminary, the countless flowers, trees and plants...it is hard sometimes to fathom it. I know that when I get home it is going to hit me, and hit me hard. I look forward to though. I look forward to grasping the magnitude of what I am doing here. Even though I may not be making a major impact on Tanzania, I know that Tanzania is making a big impact on me.
Peace,
PHW
Today we went the cattle market. If you can remember way back when, we went to a cattle market about month ago... has been a month already? Wow, I guess it has. That means that it has also been about a month since I had malaria. I know this because the last time we were at the cattle market I felt unbelievably terrible for no reason. Not today though. Today was a special day. PH didn't have to pick up anybody along the way today so the four of us got to ride where there is leg room. For some reason I get the front seat whenever this extremely rare occasion happens. Maybe it's seniority, maybe it's height, maybe it's pity...who knows and who cares. Sitting in the front means direct access to the A/C vents MWAHAHAHA!!!!
When we got to the market we made the rounds with PH. Using our Swahili skills that we have acquired over the past month and a half of lessons. It was terrific to use our skills once again in a public setting. As the day went on I realized that I could understand about half the conversation around me. People bartering, people talking about their families, people talking about their cattle, their villages, their current life situation. It was amazing to hear it all because when we came last time I felt like I was watching a foreign film with no subtitles, now there are subtitles that turn themselves on and off...but there are still subtitles. None of us really bought to much as we walked around. Maybe some fabric, a pair of shoes, and a few knives. It was just great to walk around and meet new people and see some familiar faces. We drank and ate green coconuts. We ran into some limeys (the term originating in the late nineteenth century because of the former enforced consumption of lime juice to prevent scurvy in the British navy) while we were there and talked it up for ten to fifteen minutes. It was quite odd to see other white people around. It made me realize how much we must stick out like sore thumbs. Odd feeling, this realization.
Lunch rolled around...that meant GOAT!!!! YAY!! I love eating goat. We got some liver, ribs, and a leg. My father would absolutely love this meal, because it is meat with a side of meat with meat for dessert. After all the meat was eaten I was given one of the big leg bones along with PH. I had the Maasai man that we ate with crack open the bone so that I could have one of the great Maasai delicacies, that is to say the bone marrow. I impressed the Maasai around us as I sucked the bone dry until it whistled. If you ever wanted a cultural experience, this would be one to do. As the quasi-tasteless slime finds its way into your mouth you begin to think to yourself, this isn't too bad, I could think of a lot worse things it hits you. You are in Africa sucking out bone marrow with some crazy Americans, Tanzanian pastors and Maasai people. What an opportunity.
I have come to realize that I will not be really able to grasp all that I have done here while I am here. When my everyday life consists of studying Swahili with Tanzanians as my teachers, visting Maasai villages, riding in dala dala's, looking at the beautiful mountains behind the seminary, the countless flowers, trees and plants...it is hard sometimes to fathom it. I know that when I get home it is going to hit me, and hit me hard. I look forward to though. I look forward to grasping the magnitude of what I am doing here. Even though I may not be making a major impact on Tanzania, I know that Tanzania is making a big impact on me.
Peace,
PHW
Thursday, October 23, 2008
different names for the same thing
Today we started the ever coveted second book in Swahili. The "advanced" book. I am struggling with Swahili at the moment, and the more advanced levels aren't really helping. The good side of doing the more advanced lessons is that we slow waaaaay down to get it, which is helpful for me. There is just so much vocab to remember and I am far behind. It could be the fact that I am nothing like Tim and don't want to study it for another three hours a day when I have already studied it for five hours through out the day, though if there is anybody that should study... it's me.
The lack of academic structure is not treating me well either. I am a huge procrastinator, which means that I have not done as nearly as much as I should. Sure, I have started my other classes, but I feel that I am fairly far behind in them. I know that this is more than likely a mirage, and that if I were to sit down for a day or an hour and just work as hard as I can at them I would probably be up to where I think that I should be.
On a completely different topic... We are headed to the cattle market once again this weekend. This time around should be better, considering I had a good/miserable time. I loved being there but I felt terrible the whole time, this was the beginning of my bout of malaria. I am really looking forward to this cattle market, because I think that I missed out on quite a bit on the last one.
I wish there was something deep to write about right now, but I can't really think of anything at the moment. I can't think of anything really shallow and pretentious to right about... Hmm... Maybe I should get checked for malaria again...
Peace,
PHW
The lack of academic structure is not treating me well either. I am a huge procrastinator, which means that I have not done as nearly as much as I should. Sure, I have started my other classes, but I feel that I am fairly far behind in them. I know that this is more than likely a mirage, and that if I were to sit down for a day or an hour and just work as hard as I can at them I would probably be up to where I think that I should be.
On a completely different topic... We are headed to the cattle market once again this weekend. This time around should be better, considering I had a good/miserable time. I loved being there but I felt terrible the whole time, this was the beginning of my bout of malaria. I am really looking forward to this cattle market, because I think that I missed out on quite a bit on the last one.
I wish there was something deep to write about right now, but I can't really think of anything at the moment. I can't think of anything really shallow and pretentious to right about... Hmm... Maybe I should get checked for malaria again...
Peace,
PHW
Monday, October 20, 2008
Puking at higher altitudes
I realize that I haven't updated my blog in a little while. I apologize that I am not as studious as the others... Anywho this past weekend was an interesting one to say the least.
Friday night we watched most of the third and final presidential debate. I had downloaded most of it the night before, so we got to see quite a bit of it until my download went poopy. It was quite entertaining to watch the debate with a Dane, an Indian couple that are here to do research through Michigan State (so they understood our American attitudes, living in the US to study and all) and a few Tanzanians around my age. We watched and awe as Obama cooly shot down McCain and McCains "deer in the headlights stares into the camera." We laughed, we yelled and most importantly discussed. It was really interesting to get an international perspective on the presidential race. Needless to say the rest of the world leans to the left.
Saturday I woke up not feeling the best. Little achy, little nauseous. That's when I convinced myself that I needed to go with the group and go climb the mountains behind the seminary. About an hour and a half into the climb, my body decided that it hated me and wanted to expel everything in the stomach. It was the first time that I has ever thrown up in public (as far as I can remember). I felt better after that and then continued on for another 8 hours. We reached the top and then continued for a while going down the other side. We then turned around and went back. I am still sore today but it was worth it. I'm glad I didn't bail out, otherwise I wouldn't have had the opportunity to see how unwinded and unsweaty a Maasai gets when he climbs a mountain. He had about a half liter of water all day....I drank 6 1/2 liters and ran out of water just before our descent.
Sunday we went to another Maasai village, only this one was a little different. Since PH needed to talk to the elders of the community (which I am sure the others have already described) we got to take a tour of the village, thanks to our friend and teacher Moreto. We went inside the houses, the kitchen, played with a Maasai spear, got to see how they make their sweet shiny jewelry. On a more serious note, this village seemed to have a different dynamic than the others. There was a wide range of people. There were those who were much better off than others. Widows suffered the most because the leader that taken care of them after their husbands died, died a few months ago himself. These widows had become very thin and looked extremely malnourished. It seemed odd to me that this happens in a community that is so close knit as what it appeared to be. This makes me really question the dynamic that is in these Maasai villages. It is an extremely patriarchal society, but everyone needs to depend on one another to survive. I guess this runs a little deeper than once thought. If a woman's spouse dies and no one steps up and takes care of that widow by providing food and other essentials for her, then that widow wilts and dies. I don't know how I feel about this. Taking a step back and looking at the societal structure it is obvious that the patriarchal society is very flawed. In instances like this, where poverty is so heavy, is it better to let a few die for the betterment of the community, or does everybody chip in and live at much harsher state than they are already in?
The choice would appear to be obvious where everybody chips in and helps one another, but by doing so they are weakening the state of an already fragile society, causing more sickness and malnutrition on a much larger scale and therefore potentially perpetuating the downfall of their community.
This just reinforces that I have so much to learn yet about the culture of the Maasai people. It is not as basic as it appears on the surface, but things like this seldom are. I am quickly learning how blind I am to things like these when I got villages and that I need to open my eyes more.
Peace,
PHW
Friday night we watched most of the third and final presidential debate. I had downloaded most of it the night before, so we got to see quite a bit of it until my download went poopy. It was quite entertaining to watch the debate with a Dane, an Indian couple that are here to do research through Michigan State (so they understood our American attitudes, living in the US to study and all) and a few Tanzanians around my age. We watched and awe as Obama cooly shot down McCain and McCains "deer in the headlights stares into the camera." We laughed, we yelled and most importantly discussed. It was really interesting to get an international perspective on the presidential race. Needless to say the rest of the world leans to the left.
Saturday I woke up not feeling the best. Little achy, little nauseous. That's when I convinced myself that I needed to go with the group and go climb the mountains behind the seminary. About an hour and a half into the climb, my body decided that it hated me and wanted to expel everything in the stomach. It was the first time that I has ever thrown up in public (as far as I can remember). I felt better after that and then continued on for another 8 hours. We reached the top and then continued for a while going down the other side. We then turned around and went back. I am still sore today but it was worth it. I'm glad I didn't bail out, otherwise I wouldn't have had the opportunity to see how unwinded and unsweaty a Maasai gets when he climbs a mountain. He had about a half liter of water all day....I drank 6 1/2 liters and ran out of water just before our descent.
Sunday we went to another Maasai village, only this one was a little different. Since PH needed to talk to the elders of the community (which I am sure the others have already described) we got to take a tour of the village, thanks to our friend and teacher Moreto. We went inside the houses, the kitchen, played with a Maasai spear, got to see how they make their sweet shiny jewelry. On a more serious note, this village seemed to have a different dynamic than the others. There was a wide range of people. There were those who were much better off than others. Widows suffered the most because the leader that taken care of them after their husbands died, died a few months ago himself. These widows had become very thin and looked extremely malnourished. It seemed odd to me that this happens in a community that is so close knit as what it appeared to be. This makes me really question the dynamic that is in these Maasai villages. It is an extremely patriarchal society, but everyone needs to depend on one another to survive. I guess this runs a little deeper than once thought. If a woman's spouse dies and no one steps up and takes care of that widow by providing food and other essentials for her, then that widow wilts and dies. I don't know how I feel about this. Taking a step back and looking at the societal structure it is obvious that the patriarchal society is very flawed. In instances like this, where poverty is so heavy, is it better to let a few die for the betterment of the community, or does everybody chip in and live at much harsher state than they are already in?
The choice would appear to be obvious where everybody chips in and helps one another, but by doing so they are weakening the state of an already fragile society, causing more sickness and malnutrition on a much larger scale and therefore potentially perpetuating the downfall of their community.
This just reinforces that I have so much to learn yet about the culture of the Maasai people. It is not as basic as it appears on the surface, but things like this seldom are. I am quickly learning how blind I am to things like these when I got villages and that I need to open my eyes more.
Peace,
PHW
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
I bless the rains down in Africa...
You knew that one was coming eventually.
It started to rain tonight. As I am typing this it is still raining and has been for the past hour and a half. Could this possibly be the rains that Tanzania has so desperately been praying for? I can only hope so. It is a full moon outside tonight, though you cannot tell that the moon even exists because it is so dark here. The darkness covers everything around leaves to the imagination everything. I wonder if I will be able to notice a difference in the landscape tomorrow when I wake up? I can only imagine that I will. With the short spurts of rain that we have had in the past the ground seems to suck it up faster than any SHAMWOW!! cloth ever could.
Yesterday we went to a Maasai village to worship. It was the first time that anybody had worshipped in their new church that Luka built. It was an interesting ride as we packed the four Wartburgers, PH, Luka and three other Tanzanian pastors into the Patrol, which is supposed to seat 7 including the driver but really only seats 6 comfortably. The crowding was nothing new for any of us, as we are used to hauling over maximum capacity on a regular basis. When we got there the Maasai choir gathered around and sang all day long as we waited for the service to start. The choir wasn't necessarily the best sounding choir that we have heard (not that they were bad by any means whatsoever) but they were definitely the most energetic choir that we have seen to date. Apparently they have learned every song by listening to a cassette tape or by composing the songs themselves. There was some form of a dance or another to every song. During offering they even had this way sweet single file line of synchronized dancing and singing. I was able to capture some video, so when I get back to the states I can remember what it was like....Yay for me and modern technology.
My brain clicked in yesterday as I sat listening to the choir sing. I had studied African-American churches and even been to a couple services, but it finally dawned on me the reason that Maasai singing sounded so familiar. The gospel choirs in the big African-American churches back home are taking their cues from the very music that I now listen to several times a week. I realize this is a "Duh" moment for some people, and it really was for me when I thought of it yesterday, but as I sat there I suddenly tied closer to home than ever before. Being here I am not learning about Tanzanian culture, I am learning about American culture. I have to question and understand my own culture before I can even begin to try and understand Tanzanian. This further solidifies the fact that when I come home and people ask me "What is the culture like in Tanzania?" I will have to honestly answer, "I have no idea."
Perhaps I have said this before in an earlier post (and if I have I apologize, though not really because it's my blog and I can repeat whatever I feel like...so there...HA) but in order to understand culture one has to under why people do things, one has to understand motivations, the meanings to rituals and just everyday life. Sure when I get home I will be able to tell you some differences between the way Tanzania does things compared to home on a superficial level, but there is just no way that I can understand the depths and complexities of any culture in three months, nor three years. I realize that when people ask "What is the culture like there?" they are truly asking "What are the differences that you noticed between here and there?" but being the person that I am I put weight to words like culture. Culture is a philosophy, it is the way of life for a particular society.
So much can be said about the way that people respect one another here just by taking a look at the language of Swahili. The word for stranger is the same word for guest (mgeni). There is no distinguishing between like and love in Swahili, because it is the same verb (Kupenda). There are so many examples like this in the language that give tiny glimpses inside the culture. This is just the language. You could spend decades just researching and hypothesizing about the culture through the language alone, but then you would be neglecting a major factor. The people. What are the people like? Are they really friendly because they are really truly happy, or are they happy because if they didn't try to be happy all of the time they would be so incredibly depressed. It is amazing how many people mistake powelessness for indifference.
I am reminded of Luke 12 where Jesus talks about not worrying because worrying does nothing for you, ever. From what I have observed, though I make absolutely no conclusions, people take this to heart here. Many have realized that if they worry about their current condition they will do nothing but worry, and worry equals inactivity. Inactivity equals certain death. Tanzania is a country, definitely not unlike the US, where people have to work hard to make ends meet from one day to another. The difference here is that it is out in the open that people are starving and are living in poor conditions, where it as back home it is disguised by putting people in certain parts of town or confining them to alleyways and bridges.
What one will notice here in Tanzania is the fact that religion is held so highly. Both Christianity and Islam are held onto closely and their traditions, rituals, and disciplines are kept as best as they can be. I am reminded of Karl Marx when he said that religion is the opiate for the masses. I think what Marx hits on can be taken in many different ways. The first way that most people see the quote as Marx is saying that religion is just a drug that people buy into and is nothing but fueling an addiction. Perhaps that was what Marx is saying, but I would like to give ol' Karl's beard a little more credit. I think what Marx hits at her is that religion is an opiate, a narcotic, it is morphine for people in pain. People hold onto God to get them by their hard times, to numb the sharp pains of being poor, hungry and powerless. From what I see here, if people are using God as their way to remedy their agony, then thank you sweet sweet opium. Religion is something that is needed here and everywhere, for without it the masses would surely double over from dolor.
Peace,
PHW
It started to rain tonight. As I am typing this it is still raining and has been for the past hour and a half. Could this possibly be the rains that Tanzania has so desperately been praying for? I can only hope so. It is a full moon outside tonight, though you cannot tell that the moon even exists because it is so dark here. The darkness covers everything around leaves to the imagination everything. I wonder if I will be able to notice a difference in the landscape tomorrow when I wake up? I can only imagine that I will. With the short spurts of rain that we have had in the past the ground seems to suck it up faster than any SHAMWOW!! cloth ever could.
Yesterday we went to a Maasai village to worship. It was the first time that anybody had worshipped in their new church that Luka built. It was an interesting ride as we packed the four Wartburgers, PH, Luka and three other Tanzanian pastors into the Patrol, which is supposed to seat 7 including the driver but really only seats 6 comfortably. The crowding was nothing new for any of us, as we are used to hauling over maximum capacity on a regular basis. When we got there the Maasai choir gathered around and sang all day long as we waited for the service to start. The choir wasn't necessarily the best sounding choir that we have heard (not that they were bad by any means whatsoever) but they were definitely the most energetic choir that we have seen to date. Apparently they have learned every song by listening to a cassette tape or by composing the songs themselves. There was some form of a dance or another to every song. During offering they even had this way sweet single file line of synchronized dancing and singing. I was able to capture some video, so when I get back to the states I can remember what it was like....Yay for me and modern technology.
My brain clicked in yesterday as I sat listening to the choir sing. I had studied African-American churches and even been to a couple services, but it finally dawned on me the reason that Maasai singing sounded so familiar. The gospel choirs in the big African-American churches back home are taking their cues from the very music that I now listen to several times a week. I realize this is a "Duh" moment for some people, and it really was for me when I thought of it yesterday, but as I sat there I suddenly tied closer to home than ever before. Being here I am not learning about Tanzanian culture, I am learning about American culture. I have to question and understand my own culture before I can even begin to try and understand Tanzanian. This further solidifies the fact that when I come home and people ask me "What is the culture like in Tanzania?" I will have to honestly answer, "I have no idea."
Perhaps I have said this before in an earlier post (and if I have I apologize, though not really because it's my blog and I can repeat whatever I feel like...so there...HA) but in order to understand culture one has to under why people do things, one has to understand motivations, the meanings to rituals and just everyday life. Sure when I get home I will be able to tell you some differences between the way Tanzania does things compared to home on a superficial level, but there is just no way that I can understand the depths and complexities of any culture in three months, nor three years. I realize that when people ask "What is the culture like there?" they are truly asking "What are the differences that you noticed between here and there?" but being the person that I am I put weight to words like culture. Culture is a philosophy, it is the way of life for a particular society.
So much can be said about the way that people respect one another here just by taking a look at the language of Swahili. The word for stranger is the same word for guest (mgeni). There is no distinguishing between like and love in Swahili, because it is the same verb (Kupenda). There are so many examples like this in the language that give tiny glimpses inside the culture. This is just the language. You could spend decades just researching and hypothesizing about the culture through the language alone, but then you would be neglecting a major factor. The people. What are the people like? Are they really friendly because they are really truly happy, or are they happy because if they didn't try to be happy all of the time they would be so incredibly depressed. It is amazing how many people mistake powelessness for indifference.
I am reminded of Luke 12 where Jesus talks about not worrying because worrying does nothing for you, ever. From what I have observed, though I make absolutely no conclusions, people take this to heart here. Many have realized that if they worry about their current condition they will do nothing but worry, and worry equals inactivity. Inactivity equals certain death. Tanzania is a country, definitely not unlike the US, where people have to work hard to make ends meet from one day to another. The difference here is that it is out in the open that people are starving and are living in poor conditions, where it as back home it is disguised by putting people in certain parts of town or confining them to alleyways and bridges.
What one will notice here in Tanzania is the fact that religion is held so highly. Both Christianity and Islam are held onto closely and their traditions, rituals, and disciplines are kept as best as they can be. I am reminded of Karl Marx when he said that religion is the opiate for the masses. I think what Marx hits on can be taken in many different ways. The first way that most people see the quote as Marx is saying that religion is just a drug that people buy into and is nothing but fueling an addiction. Perhaps that was what Marx is saying, but I would like to give ol' Karl's beard a little more credit. I think what Marx hits at her is that religion is an opiate, a narcotic, it is morphine for people in pain. People hold onto God to get them by their hard times, to numb the sharp pains of being poor, hungry and powerless. From what I see here, if people are using God as their way to remedy their agony, then thank you sweet sweet opium. Religion is something that is needed here and everywhere, for without it the masses would surely double over from dolor.
Peace,
PHW
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Wedding Day
Today was Luka's wedding. The anticipation for this event has been building for week for the four of us here. The day started with a nice and tight dala dala ride to the church with members of both Luka's and his bride to be's family. All the way to the church the women sang songs and cheered and shouted. It was quite the ride, not your typical crowded dala dala. When we arrived to the church (which May term should be happy to know that it is the same church that they painted) we found out that there wasn't just one wedding going to take place, but two. The church was packed as the choirs sang and people danced.
When it came time to perform the weddings there were two pastors to do the work. PH lead Luka's ceremony and another pastor took the lead of the other couple. It was interesting to see as the two took turns saying the same thing to each couple. I tried to imagine something like that happening back home, and I couldn't even wrap my mind around it. Back home a wedding is a special day where everyone focuses on the one couple, but at the two (technically 3) weddings that we have been to so far, there have been baptisms and with this wedding, two ceremonies.
Another thing that I thought about today as we were getting ready this morning was the fact that the power was out. If it were back home, no power would mean no wedding. At the wedding today there was no electricity needed. We had the sun to light us and fire to cook the food. There is something to be said about the lack of dependence on things like electricity. Unlike at home, where sometimes the day is more about the candles, the food and the reception, today was focused on the wedding and the ceremony.
The sense of community today was something that I dream about back home. Since Luka's family is predominately Muslim, 1/4th of the attendance today was Muslim. There was no conflict and everybody was happy. I again am amazed by the great Christian-Muslim relations here. I am sure that I will run into conflict in the future, but for now things have been just simply amazing.
I could go into the food that we ate after the wedding and how tasty it was, but I won't make you jealous. Let's just say it was way tasty.
Peace,
Peter
When it came time to perform the weddings there were two pastors to do the work. PH lead Luka's ceremony and another pastor took the lead of the other couple. It was interesting to see as the two took turns saying the same thing to each couple. I tried to imagine something like that happening back home, and I couldn't even wrap my mind around it. Back home a wedding is a special day where everyone focuses on the one couple, but at the two (technically 3) weddings that we have been to so far, there have been baptisms and with this wedding, two ceremonies.
Another thing that I thought about today as we were getting ready this morning was the fact that the power was out. If it were back home, no power would mean no wedding. At the wedding today there was no electricity needed. We had the sun to light us and fire to cook the food. There is something to be said about the lack of dependence on things like electricity. Unlike at home, where sometimes the day is more about the candles, the food and the reception, today was focused on the wedding and the ceremony.
The sense of community today was something that I dream about back home. Since Luka's family is predominately Muslim, 1/4th of the attendance today was Muslim. There was no conflict and everybody was happy. I again am amazed by the great Christian-Muslim relations here. I am sure that I will run into conflict in the future, but for now things have been just simply amazing.
I could go into the food that we ate after the wedding and how tasty it was, but I won't make you jealous. Let's just say it was way tasty.
Peace,
Peter
Thursday, October 9, 2008
What the Lion King forgot to mention...
We went to Mikumi National Park this week. All I can say is...well I can't really say anything because I am at a loss for words. It has been my dream since I was 5 to see the things that I got to see this weekend. I got to see giraffes, elephants, water buffalo, warthogs, hippos, crocs, jackals, all kinds of birds...and lions. 6 or 7 of lions. The second day on safari we saw two lions stalk a warthog. They were slow, magnificent, majestic.
The real story happened the first day though. Toward the end of our first day on safari we ran across three lions sleeping under a tree. We found a good position, at about 30 feet away and watched as they slept. The male lion would occasionally look up and stare at us. Since it has been my dream to see such beautiful creatures, I climbed out of the window and onto the roof of our vehicle to get a closer look. The lions didn't seem fazed. We sat there staring him and he stared at us. It was about at this time that Mchungaji Hafermann asked if we wanted to get closer. Are you kidding me? Of course! So we pulled around to the other side of the tree which was by an airstrip that the park has. He drove within 10 feet of the Simba, I am not exaggerating. I climbed out the window for a better look, keeping keen eye on the Simba to make sure that I could jump back in the vehicle if he decided he didn't want us there. That's when it happened...the most spectacular scene I have ever witnessed in my life. I want you to keep in mind that I have seem some pretty spectacular things. As a child I once saw a tiger in the zoo vomit. It was green and it was radiant.
No, this sight that I am talking about far surpasses mere tiger vomit. The male lion stood up with all of his beauty and licked the back of the female lion. This apparently was lion foreplay because shortly after he mounted. That's right, I come to Africa and God blesses me with two lions fornicating 10 feet in front of me. This is by no means a lie. I have pictures of the the 6 second lion action, and video footage of the dismount. It may have been the shortest romp I have ever seen, but it was worth taking out a loan to get here. No jokes here. I mean come on...how many people come back home and say "hey we saw some lions, and giraffes and blah blah blah..." I will be coming home saying "I watched two lions do it from ten feet away. How was your past three months...bet you didn't see anything as epic or as randy as that...BOOYA!" Nothing really tops that..."Oh I got married" "yeah but did you see two lions do it up close...didn't think so." This is the ultimate trump card.
In the night we had buffalo scrape up against out little house that we stayed in at night. As we slept there was quite the commotion outside within 300 feet of where were were. A family of elephants came by to drink when some lions decided they wanted to join in on the fun. The family of elephants fought the lions and won, making them disappear into the bush. Their roars could be heard throughout the night. Epic Awesome. This may have been the happiest two days of my life.
Peace,
PHW
The real story happened the first day though. Toward the end of our first day on safari we ran across three lions sleeping under a tree. We found a good position, at about 30 feet away and watched as they slept. The male lion would occasionally look up and stare at us. Since it has been my dream to see such beautiful creatures, I climbed out of the window and onto the roof of our vehicle to get a closer look. The lions didn't seem fazed. We sat there staring him and he stared at us. It was about at this time that Mchungaji Hafermann asked if we wanted to get closer. Are you kidding me? Of course! So we pulled around to the other side of the tree which was by an airstrip that the park has. He drove within 10 feet of the Simba, I am not exaggerating. I climbed out the window for a better look, keeping keen eye on the Simba to make sure that I could jump back in the vehicle if he decided he didn't want us there. That's when it happened...the most spectacular scene I have ever witnessed in my life. I want you to keep in mind that I have seem some pretty spectacular things. As a child I once saw a tiger in the zoo vomit. It was green and it was radiant.
No, this sight that I am talking about far surpasses mere tiger vomit. The male lion stood up with all of his beauty and licked the back of the female lion. This apparently was lion foreplay because shortly after he mounted. That's right, I come to Africa and God blesses me with two lions fornicating 10 feet in front of me. This is by no means a lie. I have pictures of the the 6 second lion action, and video footage of the dismount. It may have been the shortest romp I have ever seen, but it was worth taking out a loan to get here. No jokes here. I mean come on...how many people come back home and say "hey we saw some lions, and giraffes and blah blah blah..." I will be coming home saying "I watched two lions do it from ten feet away. How was your past three months...bet you didn't see anything as epic or as randy as that...BOOYA!" Nothing really tops that..."Oh I got married" "yeah but did you see two lions do it up close...didn't think so." This is the ultimate trump card.
In the night we had buffalo scrape up against out little house that we stayed in at night. As we slept there was quite the commotion outside within 300 feet of where were were. A family of elephants came by to drink when some lions decided they wanted to join in on the fun. The family of elephants fought the lions and won, making them disappear into the bush. Their roars could be heard throughout the night. Epic Awesome. This may have been the happiest two days of my life.
Peace,
PHW
Monday, October 6, 2008
MacGyver would be proud
So I am sure that everybody else has updated their blogs and you have read them all several times, so I won't go into great detail about what we saw. I will just say that Mac would have been proud this weekend. When we got to the village for service, we were delighted to see that the place we were going to worship was full...only of bovine and not humans. So since we had some time to kill (I mean come on, have we ever started "on time"...the answer is no and we never will) we went for a nice walk to check out how the cows were watered. It was quite the set up when we got there. There were two water troughs and water was pumped from a a nearby underground river. It was by far the most high-tech set up I have seen yet. So for we watched hundreds of heads of cattle come and rehydrate. It was fun and entertaining.
We ate goat for lunch. Now this is where I will stand on my little soap box in praise of the Swiss army knife. I don't know how they thought to put those particular things in the handy dandy tool, but whoever put the toothpick in there needs a free ticket to heaven. I never thought it would come in handy, but it certainly has and it has saved me hours of me trying to get meat out with my tongue. Also, the bottle opener/screwdriver brilliant and has saved many young Maasai teeth trying to open soda bottles. MacGyver would be so proud.
The service went well. There were some children that started to cry and run away at the sight of us because we were white. They thought we were blood suckers, and rightfully so. This made me start to think about being a minority in Africa. To be honest I don't feel like a minority here at all. I was told before coming that I would get to understand what it is like to be a minority for a while...whatever that means. I mean yes, I am a minority here as far as the census between black and white skin colors, but I don't feel like a minority. I feel like an outsider, and that is because I am. When I walk down the streets of Morogoro people aren't looking at me like they have never seen a white person before, they look at me because they know I am American. Whether that is good or bad it depends on the person, but I don't feel out of place because of my skin color. I don't even think about it most of the time to be real honest.
Tim has not been feeling well the past couple of days. He has had some pretty sharp abdominal pain. We speculate that it is kidney stones because Tim has been consuming considerable amounts of meat lately at the villages and when we go to different places where all we have for a meal is meat. This is why I am almost a carnivore Tim. Carnivores win one way or another, unfortunately for Tim it could possibly be with little crystals trying to pass in his body.
Seriously though keep Tim and all of us here in your thoughts. We are finding out that the numbers of people contracting malaria and typhoid in the Morogoro area are rising rapidly. Speaking from first hand experience, malaria isn't any fun and if gone untreated can be fatal.
On that happy thought I will leave you.
Peace,
Peter
We ate goat for lunch. Now this is where I will stand on my little soap box in praise of the Swiss army knife. I don't know how they thought to put those particular things in the handy dandy tool, but whoever put the toothpick in there needs a free ticket to heaven. I never thought it would come in handy, but it certainly has and it has saved me hours of me trying to get meat out with my tongue. Also, the bottle opener/screwdriver brilliant and has saved many young Maasai teeth trying to open soda bottles. MacGyver would be so proud.
The service went well. There were some children that started to cry and run away at the sight of us because we were white. They thought we were blood suckers, and rightfully so. This made me start to think about being a minority in Africa. To be honest I don't feel like a minority here at all. I was told before coming that I would get to understand what it is like to be a minority for a while...whatever that means. I mean yes, I am a minority here as far as the census between black and white skin colors, but I don't feel like a minority. I feel like an outsider, and that is because I am. When I walk down the streets of Morogoro people aren't looking at me like they have never seen a white person before, they look at me because they know I am American. Whether that is good or bad it depends on the person, but I don't feel out of place because of my skin color. I don't even think about it most of the time to be real honest.
Tim has not been feeling well the past couple of days. He has had some pretty sharp abdominal pain. We speculate that it is kidney stones because Tim has been consuming considerable amounts of meat lately at the villages and when we go to different places where all we have for a meal is meat. This is why I am almost a carnivore Tim. Carnivores win one way or another, unfortunately for Tim it could possibly be with little crystals trying to pass in his body.
Seriously though keep Tim and all of us here in your thoughts. We are finding out that the numbers of people contracting malaria and typhoid in the Morogoro area are rising rapidly. Speaking from first hand experience, malaria isn't any fun and if gone untreated can be fatal.
On that happy thought I will leave you.
Peace,
Peter
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Sharing Thoughts
I know I typically write my point of view on things and have my own opinions, but today Tim hit the mark on how I feel right now. So out of lack of creativity and looking bad in comparison I am recommending that you read his blog today to see how I feel. If you don't want to go to the hassle of clicking and waiting for his page to load I will post the same post he did today.
This is from Tim's blog, it's a bit epic but worth it in my opinion...there you go you have my opinion on the matter:
People are basically the same. This is the gentle realization to which I have come today. Now, I have certainly heard this said before and I know that my saying this is not any great leap in cultural understanding. Hell, in tenth grade advanced english we read the play Our Town in which the conclusion, if I remember correctly, is that life everywhere, throughout time and space, is essentially the same. I feel somewhat foolish for coming so late to this new understanding but I suppose everything happens in its own time. This thought is the culmination of what was, for some reason, a relatively difficult week. This difficulty, I am sure, is due to the frustrating feeling that we are experiencing a lot of time on the campus and very little in the villages and cities of Tanzanians. We are basically in a community of education similar to that in which we would be at home. Life began to really become normal this week. The first few weeks were so full of these great revelations of cultural and religious difference, especially in everyday ritual and practices of hospitality, and attitude toward people and the land. Then for a few days I experienced a dip in feeling as realizing these things made me long for home and what I once considered the inferior attitudes of the western world. This week I met myself somewhere in the middle. The great high of culture shock and then the great low of missing home has now ended up in what I believe is closer to reality. Life is normal here as it would be at home. We all do many of the same things that we would do at home and no one here has become an entirely new person. Earlier this week, this was very frustrating. Then I realized that we are all still ourselves (certainly growing but basically ourselves) because life here is not entirely other. There are still incredibly nice people and those who seem especially upset all the time. Greed may look different (like the sales-child that attempted to swindle me at the cattle market) but is still around, as is great charity and selflessness. There is hunger here and at home. There is emptiness and love and a longing for technology and newness. Kids spend the evenings at da club. I still read a lot, The Office is still funny and Steve’s still a slammin’ hottie. The differences, while still present and sometimes obvious, are more often subtle and somewhat superficial. At the bottom of everything people are people. There are many other things that I could mention but you understand, I am certain. I think this is a constructive point to come to as the month of very intensive language learning is coming to a close. I am now past this and can focus on those subtle things that do make us different. Always with the understanding that the differences are normally just differences in manifestations of the same things. We are humans at our core who simply express the essences of our humanity in different ways. It is these expressions, especially as demonstrated in the life of faith, ritual and community that I can now begin to focus upon so that we can learn from each other in our mutual expressions of our humanity and our common convergence with the being of God, the ground of all being.
Peace,
PHW
This is from Tim's blog, it's a bit epic but worth it in my opinion...there you go you have my opinion on the matter:
People are basically the same. This is the gentle realization to which I have come today. Now, I have certainly heard this said before and I know that my saying this is not any great leap in cultural understanding. Hell, in tenth grade advanced english we read the play Our Town in which the conclusion, if I remember correctly, is that life everywhere, throughout time and space, is essentially the same. I feel somewhat foolish for coming so late to this new understanding but I suppose everything happens in its own time. This thought is the culmination of what was, for some reason, a relatively difficult week. This difficulty, I am sure, is due to the frustrating feeling that we are experiencing a lot of time on the campus and very little in the villages and cities of Tanzanians. We are basically in a community of education similar to that in which we would be at home. Life began to really become normal this week. The first few weeks were so full of these great revelations of cultural and religious difference, especially in everyday ritual and practices of hospitality, and attitude toward people and the land. Then for a few days I experienced a dip in feeling as realizing these things made me long for home and what I once considered the inferior attitudes of the western world. This week I met myself somewhere in the middle. The great high of culture shock and then the great low of missing home has now ended up in what I believe is closer to reality. Life is normal here as it would be at home. We all do many of the same things that we would do at home and no one here has become an entirely new person. Earlier this week, this was very frustrating. Then I realized that we are all still ourselves (certainly growing but basically ourselves) because life here is not entirely other. There are still incredibly nice people and those who seem especially upset all the time. Greed may look different (like the sales-child that attempted to swindle me at the cattle market) but is still around, as is great charity and selflessness. There is hunger here and at home. There is emptiness and love and a longing for technology and newness. Kids spend the evenings at da club. I still read a lot, The Office is still funny and Steve’s still a slammin’ hottie. The differences, while still present and sometimes obvious, are more often subtle and somewhat superficial. At the bottom of everything people are people. There are many other things that I could mention but you understand, I am certain. I think this is a constructive point to come to as the month of very intensive language learning is coming to a close. I am now past this and can focus on those subtle things that do make us different. Always with the understanding that the differences are normally just differences in manifestations of the same things. We are humans at our core who simply express the essences of our humanity in different ways. It is these expressions, especially as demonstrated in the life of faith, ritual and community that I can now begin to focus upon so that we can learn from each other in our mutual expressions of our humanity and our common convergence with the being of God, the ground of all being.
Peace,
PHW
Friday, October 3, 2008
When the internet crashes, I feel oddly ok
Yesterday afternoon the internet went out. It didn't come back up until around lunchtime today. At first we all panicked and thought the world was coming to an end, but as the hours went on I felt oddly good. I realize this post is not necessarily about Africa and is not about the culture of the people here, but it is an experience none the less.
In a way it has been an "ah-ha" moment. I was enlightened by my conscience that I have become prisoner to the internet. I am not saying that I should liberate myself completely from it and not send out letters and things and post blogs, but I need to seriously cut back. Part of a study abroad experience is to learn something about yourself, and I have learned that I become dependent on communication. What is going down? When is it going down? Who's going? Where? I need to just stop. I know full well why I have attached myself to this little white keyboard. I have been afraid to stop and face reality.
It is understandable that someone turns to find out what is going on at home while they are here for their first month. There is nothing really to do. You don't have a whole lot of money to splurge on things (or you don't want to splurge) so that cuts out reasons to pay for a bus to go to town and then pay for a bus to come back. Riding the bus here is not really that enjoyable of an experience. We can't go out to anywhere at night, so that keeps us on the seminary. We are in class most of the day and then after class we study, and if we don't do that we walk around. Sometimes you just don't want to walk around, or it is to hot to walk around for very long. We are drawn like flies to a dirty dirty choo (Swahili...look it up) when it comes to the internet. It is our gateway of escape from this place, if only for an instant. Not that we want to leave, but we want to shut off our brains for a while and just go back to what we do at home. For the four of us that is surf the net.
Because of all this surfing I think that I, at times, forget one of the main reasons why I am here. To find out who Peter Hathaway Watters, Esq. is. I can completely avoid facing that question when I go online. This is a problem that needs to be remedied. Starting today I am going to start pulling back on my internet time, not that anyone will really notice. I will still post blogs and I will be checking my mail everyday, but I am not going to be online for that long, unless I have a good reason to. I need to find myself here, and I started to yesterday as the internet went down. Even though I have had longer periods of not being online while I was here, I had to take a step back yesterday and really take a look at my priorities. The internet should not be nearly as high as I have put it, though it appears that everybody else here would seem to argue with me.
Anywho...I'm out.
Peace,
Peter
In a way it has been an "ah-ha" moment. I was enlightened by my conscience that I have become prisoner to the internet. I am not saying that I should liberate myself completely from it and not send out letters and things and post blogs, but I need to seriously cut back. Part of a study abroad experience is to learn something about yourself, and I have learned that I become dependent on communication. What is going down? When is it going down? Who's going? Where? I need to just stop. I know full well why I have attached myself to this little white keyboard. I have been afraid to stop and face reality.
It is understandable that someone turns to find out what is going on at home while they are here for their first month. There is nothing really to do. You don't have a whole lot of money to splurge on things (or you don't want to splurge) so that cuts out reasons to pay for a bus to go to town and then pay for a bus to come back. Riding the bus here is not really that enjoyable of an experience. We can't go out to anywhere at night, so that keeps us on the seminary. We are in class most of the day and then after class we study, and if we don't do that we walk around. Sometimes you just don't want to walk around, or it is to hot to walk around for very long. We are drawn like flies to a dirty dirty choo (Swahili...look it up) when it comes to the internet. It is our gateway of escape from this place, if only for an instant. Not that we want to leave, but we want to shut off our brains for a while and just go back to what we do at home. For the four of us that is surf the net.
Because of all this surfing I think that I, at times, forget one of the main reasons why I am here. To find out who Peter Hathaway Watters, Esq. is. I can completely avoid facing that question when I go online. This is a problem that needs to be remedied. Starting today I am going to start pulling back on my internet time, not that anyone will really notice. I will still post blogs and I will be checking my mail everyday, but I am not going to be online for that long, unless I have a good reason to. I need to find myself here, and I started to yesterday as the internet went down. Even though I have had longer periods of not being online while I was here, I had to take a step back yesterday and really take a look at my priorities. The internet should not be nearly as high as I have put it, though it appears that everybody else here would seem to argue with me.
Anywho...I'm out.
Peace,
Peter
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
The Chinese know their herbs
I thought that I would give everybody an update on my health. I am starting to feel better today. I started taking some form of an ancient Chinese herbal supplement (the name escapes me) for my malaria on Monday night. It is apparently one of the best things to take around this area for the particular strain of malara that I have. I wasn't sure if it was working at first because I felt no change in my condition on Tuesday, but this morning I started to feel better. As the day has progressed I have not felt all that bad. I mean of course there were sometimes today that were worse than others, but it has been an overall improvement. Hopefully my condition will just get better as the days go on.
It is the the end of Ramadan here, so in celebration we had the afternoon off. We will also get tomorrow afternoon off as well. Since I am really in no shape to wander around to far, this is offering to be a perfect time to do some nice reflecting. Lately I have been reflecting about cheese, and how much I miss it. Gouda, Swiss, cheddar, colby-jack, mozzarella, feta, and brie oh how you will all be ingested when I get back. I don't know if it is the malaria or if I am pregnant, but I have been having odd cravings for things. Pickles, brats, sauerkraut (I must be hanging with the Germans to much), hamburgers, shake and bake, small irish children... you know all of the oddly tasty items that we take for granted.
After I had contemplated the important things in life, I started to think about the more trivial things like who I am becoming and who do I really want to be and that nonsense. It has been interesting to see how I have changed already within the three weeks that I have been here. I know that it will be a really intense 11 weeks ahead, with much self-exploration and reflection, but I am starting to wonder how different I will look at the end of this. Not only psychologically either, physically too. I have been losing weight, growing my beard out, and am letting my hair get long. Maybe when I get home I will be able to come out with major hit records, tour the world, and then leave my career to convert to Islam and change my name Yusuf. Who knows. We can only pray for the hit records.
Peace,
PHW
It is the the end of Ramadan here, so in celebration we had the afternoon off. We will also get tomorrow afternoon off as well. Since I am really in no shape to wander around to far, this is offering to be a perfect time to do some nice reflecting. Lately I have been reflecting about cheese, and how much I miss it. Gouda, Swiss, cheddar, colby-jack, mozzarella, feta, and brie oh how you will all be ingested when I get back. I don't know if it is the malaria or if I am pregnant, but I have been having odd cravings for things. Pickles, brats, sauerkraut (I must be hanging with the Germans to much), hamburgers, shake and bake, small irish children... you know all of the oddly tasty items that we take for granted.
After I had contemplated the important things in life, I started to think about the more trivial things like who I am becoming and who do I really want to be and that nonsense. It has been interesting to see how I have changed already within the three weeks that I have been here. I know that it will be a really intense 11 weeks ahead, with much self-exploration and reflection, but I am starting to wonder how different I will look at the end of this. Not only psychologically either, physically too. I have been losing weight, growing my beard out, and am letting my hair get long. Maybe when I get home I will be able to come out with major hit records, tour the world, and then leave my career to convert to Islam and change my name Yusuf. Who knows. We can only pray for the hit records.
Peace,
PHW
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