Happy belated Thanksgiving to everybody. Hope everyone had their great sufficiency and didn't go to far into a tryptophan overdose. Thanksgiving day did not mean turkey and family here in Tanzania, instead it meant final tests in Swahili. I have this feeling that I got bulldozed by the test. I am not saying that I failed, but merely that I was quasi-defeated. Languages aren't exactly my strong point and that was accentuated on T-day. Oh well, such is life.
Tim became sick Thursday night with what appeared to be a nice heavy-duty case of the flu. The next morning I woke up not feeling the greatest myself. I am not sure if I was actually sick or merely feeling ill in sympathy. So Tim and I got to spend the day in bed while Sara and Steve went to a village with Luka and PH. I was able to catch up on the news and send out a few emails. It felt good to read about global events all day.
Speaking about global events, the events in Mumbai have been a humbling reminder to those of us abroad to keep a low profile, but yet to not live in fear. Before deciding to come to Africa I was seriously considering studying abroad in India, which has made me think about how different I would feel if I was there instead of here.
My mind has been shifted lately from being here to preparing myself for going back home. Even though there is still two weeks left here, that is not much time. I have gone through two week periods six times now. Wow, I have been here twelve weeks...it just kinda sunk in how long I have been here. I have begun to really think about things I want to change in my life or at least try to incorporate into my life when I get home. It is completely a mental game, and my thoughts are more than likely ambitious, but I am thinking none the less. I won't be able to know what is feasible and realistic until I get home, but I know that things must change when I get home. I owe it to myself to change, since I have discovered so much about myself here. I am going to go out on a cliched limb and say that Africa has changed me, through the hospitality of the people that I have met and the solitude that places like Tanzania can give. Through deep times of reflection, I have been able to listen. To listen to the voice that has been trying to speak to me for quite a while now, telling me that these times they are a changin'.
I am preparing myself for re-entry just as I tried to prepare myself for the initial culture shock of coming here... Therefore that means I have no idea what to expect when I get home, except that I will be rather cold getting off the plane.
We head to Zanzibar on Monday for the week. It is going to be a nice vacation, a nice time to really feel like a tourist again... not that we aren't tourists now, but we will definitely feel it in Zanzibar. Yay for snorkeling and spice tours and mass consumerism... I am looking forward to it.
Peace,
Peter
Friday, November 28, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Pack it up, pack it in let me begin
These past two days we have been to two Maasai villages. It has been two long days with us not returning until the stars light the sky like a lite-brite. Both villages were amazing to say the least.
Tuesday's village worship took place under a few trees and everybody (about 200) sat around in a big circle and just listened and laughed and sang and communed together. It was like tearing pages right out of the Bible. Telling stories and sharing God and love with everybody. I felt like I could see Jesus of Nazareth doing something so very similar, enrapturing the masses. Long before the service ever began we were shown the river that was near by. It was a very interesting river because it appeared to be wet sand but upon further inspection it was not hard to see that we were actually standing on top of the water source. If you dug any sort of hole it would quickly fill up with water. It was very fascinating to watch.
After the service we were treated to a show by the Maasai warriors. They sang and had a jumping contest, which is always fascinating to watch. I really enjoy watching the Maasai men break from their seriousness every once and a while to enjoy themselves and also to have a little friendly competition. It really showed which warriors were more experienced than others by the several inches higher they jumped. They appeared to be almost superhuman in the heights that they reached. It was as though they could have followed in the footsteps of Elijah.
The second Maasai village we visited was having a very special fundraiser to put in windows, doors, and a floor for their church. There again was close to 200 in attendance, all packed into a church that wasn't exactly huge. After the service there was an auction that brought out a lot of money. The goats that were there sold for 5 to 6 times as much as I had seen before. The pieces of fabric that typically go for $8-$10 at the most were selling for $35-$40. All of the money going back to the church...Hmm socialistic Christianity? ... That seems almost biblical...
The past two days have been very interesting in terms of growth. I find it hard to grasp what has really happened the past two days, or the past three months. I have become attached to the Maasai people in a weird way. It has been a fascinating three months and I am sure there are really odd aspects of it that I am going to miss, but I have no clue what yet.
Peace,
PHW
Tuesday's village worship took place under a few trees and everybody (about 200) sat around in a big circle and just listened and laughed and sang and communed together. It was like tearing pages right out of the Bible. Telling stories and sharing God and love with everybody. I felt like I could see Jesus of Nazareth doing something so very similar, enrapturing the masses. Long before the service ever began we were shown the river that was near by. It was a very interesting river because it appeared to be wet sand but upon further inspection it was not hard to see that we were actually standing on top of the water source. If you dug any sort of hole it would quickly fill up with water. It was very fascinating to watch.
After the service we were treated to a show by the Maasai warriors. They sang and had a jumping contest, which is always fascinating to watch. I really enjoy watching the Maasai men break from their seriousness every once and a while to enjoy themselves and also to have a little friendly competition. It really showed which warriors were more experienced than others by the several inches higher they jumped. They appeared to be almost superhuman in the heights that they reached. It was as though they could have followed in the footsteps of Elijah.
The second Maasai village we visited was having a very special fundraiser to put in windows, doors, and a floor for their church. There again was close to 200 in attendance, all packed into a church that wasn't exactly huge. After the service there was an auction that brought out a lot of money. The goats that were there sold for 5 to 6 times as much as I had seen before. The pieces of fabric that typically go for $8-$10 at the most were selling for $35-$40. All of the money going back to the church...Hmm socialistic Christianity? ... That seems almost biblical...
The past two days have been very interesting in terms of growth. I find it hard to grasp what has really happened the past two days, or the past three months. I have become attached to the Maasai people in a weird way. It has been a fascinating three months and I am sure there are really odd aspects of it that I am going to miss, but I have no clue what yet.
Peace,
PHW
Monday, November 24, 2008
I subscribe to the news
I realize that I have neglected posting for a while. Last week was filled with many different things and village visits and such. I feel as though village visits have become part of the routine. It is not that I do not enjoy them, it was the fact that I know how the visits are going to go everytime, as far as the wait for a couple of hours before, the order of the service...even the songs that we are going to sing. I find comfort in these things, this repetition sometimes because it makes the time seem to just slide by, but then there are times when I begin to think that perhaps I need a change of pace if only for a little while.
Sunday we went back to Mabogeri, the village by Kilosa. This is the village that I had previously blogged about with all of the problems. It was a much different visit than before. People weren't hiding nearly as much, and more men were present. They gave us tea and half-cakes galore and gave us a meal after service as well. I was not sure how to accept these gifts of food when they themselves still suffer severely. It was a great lesson in hospitality, since hospitality is most certainly a two way street. The demeanor of the people seemed to be a little more positive, but it could easily be seen that they were still in dire need of help. If you weren't paying attention you could miss the fact that the people were still not able to eat very much and were still very much in need of aid. The Maasai can mask these things so easily through there great hospitality and their positive outlook on life. They are a strong people, and they refuse to weaken even in times of great strife.
After the service a woman became hysterical and at times appeared to be possesed. The evangelists and pastors worked with her for almost an hour trying to rid her of her demon. She suffers/ed from PPD, having attempted to kill her child once. This seemed to be the biggest part of her hysteria, but every once and a while it appeared that there was something inside here resisting as though there was something else living in her. This incident again brought up the issue of demons and evil and black magic into my mind. When I think of these things I am reminded of Carlos Castaneda writing about the alternate realities that lie within our own world that we simply can't see. When I hear about, or in this case see, demon possession I can't help but wonder if there is validity in it. Just because something lies in another reality and that person can see it, doesn't make it any less real for that person. I realize that I am digressing into philosophical nonsense but it is the only way that I can explain it.
On the way home we saw what was more than likely dead body #2.
Something that I should mention that I didn't a few posts ago... When we are at the wedding at the prison Tim went into the bathroom only to turn around and slam the door because a long green snake came out of the toilet pit and started coming toward him... though more than likely not in a threatening manner. Upon further research, Tim is convinced that he say a green mamba which isn't nearly as bad as the black, but still a mamba none the less. We sometimes forget about the fact that we are in Tanzania and that typical things that wouldn't hurt us at home will most definitely kill you here. It's a humbling reminder that we are still in a place where we have to watch our step, and stay alert to the bugs and other creatures that live around us.
Prime example: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oR3oD0WDcVU Steve took this video just outside the place where we eat. It is a cobra and they can kill you.
Peace,
Peter
Sunday we went back to Mabogeri, the village by Kilosa. This is the village that I had previously blogged about with all of the problems. It was a much different visit than before. People weren't hiding nearly as much, and more men were present. They gave us tea and half-cakes galore and gave us a meal after service as well. I was not sure how to accept these gifts of food when they themselves still suffer severely. It was a great lesson in hospitality, since hospitality is most certainly a two way street. The demeanor of the people seemed to be a little more positive, but it could easily be seen that they were still in dire need of help. If you weren't paying attention you could miss the fact that the people were still not able to eat very much and were still very much in need of aid. The Maasai can mask these things so easily through there great hospitality and their positive outlook on life. They are a strong people, and they refuse to weaken even in times of great strife.
After the service a woman became hysterical and at times appeared to be possesed. The evangelists and pastors worked with her for almost an hour trying to rid her of her demon. She suffers/ed from PPD, having attempted to kill her child once. This seemed to be the biggest part of her hysteria, but every once and a while it appeared that there was something inside here resisting as though there was something else living in her. This incident again brought up the issue of demons and evil and black magic into my mind. When I think of these things I am reminded of Carlos Castaneda writing about the alternate realities that lie within our own world that we simply can't see. When I hear about, or in this case see, demon possession I can't help but wonder if there is validity in it. Just because something lies in another reality and that person can see it, doesn't make it any less real for that person. I realize that I am digressing into philosophical nonsense but it is the only way that I can explain it.
On the way home we saw what was more than likely dead body #2.
Something that I should mention that I didn't a few posts ago... When we are at the wedding at the prison Tim went into the bathroom only to turn around and slam the door because a long green snake came out of the toilet pit and started coming toward him... though more than likely not in a threatening manner. Upon further research, Tim is convinced that he say a green mamba which isn't nearly as bad as the black, but still a mamba none the less. We sometimes forget about the fact that we are in Tanzania and that typical things that wouldn't hurt us at home will most definitely kill you here. It's a humbling reminder that we are still in a place where we have to watch our step, and stay alert to the bugs and other creatures that live around us.
Prime example: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oR3oD0WDcVU Steve took this video just outside the place where we eat. It is a cobra and they can kill you.
Peace,
Peter
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Singing with the Maasai
Tuesday took us close to where we went on Friday. The church was packed with standing room only, creating a nice oven to sit in. Tim, Steve, and I had learned our lesson from Sunday and brought rags to wipe the sweat off our brow and fan ourselves with. There were several choirs there, including "Wartburg". The four of us had the honor of singing in front of the congregation. We chose to sing the song "Sanctuary" and actually pulled it off fairly well. I was quite amazed out our little quartet. During offering the Maasai pastors and Maasai evangelists gathered together in Morani ya Yesu (Morani is the age group of Maasai men that are Warriors) and had their own choir. Luka decided that it would be great fun if he brought me up with them to sing. So here was Luka and I standing with a group of Maasai. As we "danced" and sang, I couldn't help but feel connected better to the people that I have come to know and respect over these past few months. It has been quite the experience here.
After the service Tim and I bought a goat at the auction for on of the evangelists. It was a little different auction this time because there were several goats and a cow up for grabs. I know that in the past I have heard people that came here at one point in time or another have bought goats and cattle, but since we have been here anything bigger than a chicken has been a rarity. Most of the people we see are very very poor and are not able to give up any of their animals for the sake of charity. I am not saying that the people at this Maasai village were rich by any means, just that they had goats and cattle to donate.
Wednesday we head out to a Maasai village near a secondary school that PH spoke at a few weeks ago. It is a highly Muslim populated area, so it should be interesting to see how it goes. It's not that there is going to be trouble or anything, but I like to go into the heavy muslim populated areas and see the interaction of the people.
Peace,
PHW
After the service Tim and I bought a goat at the auction for on of the evangelists. It was a little different auction this time because there were several goats and a cow up for grabs. I know that in the past I have heard people that came here at one point in time or another have bought goats and cattle, but since we have been here anything bigger than a chicken has been a rarity. Most of the people we see are very very poor and are not able to give up any of their animals for the sake of charity. I am not saying that the people at this Maasai village were rich by any means, just that they had goats and cattle to donate.
Wednesday we head out to a Maasai village near a secondary school that PH spoke at a few weeks ago. It is a highly Muslim populated area, so it should be interesting to see how it goes. It's not that there is going to be trouble or anything, but I like to go into the heavy muslim populated areas and see the interaction of the people.
Peace,
PHW
Monday, November 17, 2008
Prison
Yet another eventful weekend came and went. While Tim stayed home with malaria on Friday, Sara, Steve and myself went with PH and Luka to a Maasai village. This village seemed a little different than the a lot of the previous ones that we had been to in the past few weeks. There was a sense of real happiness and joy in the faces, instead of the tired, stressed and feared faces that we had started to become more familiar to. The air smelled of nag champa, which reminded me a lot of home because I burn nag champa incense while I study. The whole day was very upbeat. The choirs danced and sang with a great energy.
Saturday was wedding time once again. Only this wedding took place at a prison. One of the guards was getting married, and PH was performing the ceremony. It was an interesting wedding indeed. Not because there were prisoners there (there weren't any) but the fact that the choir had two electric guitars, a bass, and an electric keyboard. It was weird to see these things. I haven't seen an electric guitar in action since I left home. It was interesting to listen to, for they were really good but yet I didn't like it. It wasn't the fact that it wasn't my genre of music or anything, I guess it just lost something for me since we usually listen to choirs that do things with a drum at most. It seemed to lose something for me, which was an odd sensation because I used to play in a praise band throughout high school and part of college.
Sunday we went to the youth prison for a very special service. It was confirmation Sunday. Two inmates were among those that were being confirmed. For some reason I feel very attached to the prison visits. Earlier in the week I had communed with pardoned murders, and now I got to see two inmates be confirmed. I don't know if I feel that I am being called to prison ministry, but I do know that I felt a strong connection with the prisons just the same. Perhaps it is the fact that Jesus was executed by the state...
As time goes on here in Africa, I am finding out more and more that I am Lutheran. I had been pondering the idea that all people have the potential to do great wrong and the potential to do great right... Then like a stein of beer it hit me that I was thinking about Martin Luther's idea about being both saint and sinner. I may sound pretentious or even pontificate if I say this but... I think that I have really begun to understand the theology of the cross...probably not, but I am still seeing God in the places that I do not expect. I am beginning to understand that we must transcend far beyond the elementary notions that anyone is different in the eyes of God. We are all loved the same. We are all the children of God, no matter what we do. We are all brothers and sisters, and for me it is through Jesus the Christ that I understand this. That is how I understand this notion, but it doesn't mean that I am more right than my Muslim, Hindu, Bahai, Zoroastrian, Atheistic brothers and sisters. When we realize that we are all human beings and that we are all brothers and sisters. We all come from the same light, the same parent, the same space, the same universe.
Peace,
Peter
Saturday was wedding time once again. Only this wedding took place at a prison. One of the guards was getting married, and PH was performing the ceremony. It was an interesting wedding indeed. Not because there were prisoners there (there weren't any) but the fact that the choir had two electric guitars, a bass, and an electric keyboard. It was weird to see these things. I haven't seen an electric guitar in action since I left home. It was interesting to listen to, for they were really good but yet I didn't like it. It wasn't the fact that it wasn't my genre of music or anything, I guess it just lost something for me since we usually listen to choirs that do things with a drum at most. It seemed to lose something for me, which was an odd sensation because I used to play in a praise band throughout high school and part of college.
Sunday we went to the youth prison for a very special service. It was confirmation Sunday. Two inmates were among those that were being confirmed. For some reason I feel very attached to the prison visits. Earlier in the week I had communed with pardoned murders, and now I got to see two inmates be confirmed. I don't know if I feel that I am being called to prison ministry, but I do know that I felt a strong connection with the prisons just the same. Perhaps it is the fact that Jesus was executed by the state...
As time goes on here in Africa, I am finding out more and more that I am Lutheran. I had been pondering the idea that all people have the potential to do great wrong and the potential to do great right... Then like a stein of beer it hit me that I was thinking about Martin Luther's idea about being both saint and sinner. I may sound pretentious or even pontificate if I say this but... I think that I have really begun to understand the theology of the cross...probably not, but I am still seeing God in the places that I do not expect. I am beginning to understand that we must transcend far beyond the elementary notions that anyone is different in the eyes of God. We are all loved the same. We are all the children of God, no matter what we do. We are all brothers and sisters, and for me it is through Jesus the Christ that I understand this. That is how I understand this notion, but it doesn't mean that I am more right than my Muslim, Hindu, Bahai, Zoroastrian, Atheistic brothers and sisters. When we realize that we are all human beings and that we are all brothers and sisters. We all come from the same light, the same parent, the same space, the same universe.
Peace,
Peter
Thursday, November 13, 2008
One month left
Today marks one month left of my stay in Tanzania. I have started to reflect on what I have accomplished here so far. I have come to realize that I really regret nothing here. In fact, Tanzania has exceeded my expectations in many ways. Over these past few months I have had moments where I thought that my experience here has not been nearly as exciting as study abroad students in the past. How wrong I was to think those things.
No two experiences to a place are the same. Tim and I share a room and go to the same places, but when he gets home and when I get home we are going to have two completely different experiences. There is no doubt in my mind that with one month left, coming to Tanzania has changed my life. It is something that I will always carry with me, no matter where I go and what I do. After all of the things that I buy get broken or lost. After all of the pictures have somehow been erased or have gone missing, I will still have my experience with me.
I had many preconceived notions of what I would see, what I would do, and what I would feel coming here. I spoke with many people that have come here at one point in time and asked them about their time here, and I received a lot of the same answer. This made me think that it was those things that I would have to look forward to. Most of those things I have done, and really did enjoy, but so far what I will take away from this goes so far beyond those things. There is no real way good way to explain how I feel here. There is not really a way to put into words how I have felt when I have seen and experienced the things that I have here. I understand now why all of the study abroad students tend to say the same things. They are the only things that you can put into words. Everything else goes beyond explanation.
I have seen things here that no other Wartburg student has seen, just as every other person that comes here for study abroad has seen things that I will not get a chance to see. It is in the personal and silent connections that we have while we are here that we will remember. That we will grow in and recall as time goes on. It is in the silent places that we find ourselves asking the questions and maturing our minds.
Peace,
PHW
No two experiences to a place are the same. Tim and I share a room and go to the same places, but when he gets home and when I get home we are going to have two completely different experiences. There is no doubt in my mind that with one month left, coming to Tanzania has changed my life. It is something that I will always carry with me, no matter where I go and what I do. After all of the things that I buy get broken or lost. After all of the pictures have somehow been erased or have gone missing, I will still have my experience with me.
I had many preconceived notions of what I would see, what I would do, and what I would feel coming here. I spoke with many people that have come here at one point in time and asked them about their time here, and I received a lot of the same answer. This made me think that it was those things that I would have to look forward to. Most of those things I have done, and really did enjoy, but so far what I will take away from this goes so far beyond those things. There is no real way good way to explain how I feel here. There is not really a way to put into words how I have felt when I have seen and experienced the things that I have here. I understand now why all of the study abroad students tend to say the same things. They are the only things that you can put into words. Everything else goes beyond explanation.
I have seen things here that no other Wartburg student has seen, just as every other person that comes here for study abroad has seen things that I will not get a chance to see. It is in the personal and silent connections that we have while we are here that we will remember. That we will grow in and recall as time goes on. It is in the silent places that we find ourselves asking the questions and maturing our minds.
Peace,
PHW
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Bible study
Yesterday, Sara and I went with PH to a prison nearby to meet with the local evangelists. We sat with the evangelists (some know our names, which is an odd feeling) and listened as they discussed the issues that they are going through in their congregations. Why did we meet in the prison you ask? Simple, it was a central location to meet. After the discussion we took a look at the scriptures that would be used for this week. During this Bible study some of the prisoners and community members came in. It was a time where they could ask question about the scripture to a minister. This is a rare opportunity.
After the Bible study we had a short communion service. I stood next to two men that had killed an Indian Muslim and cut up his body for "medicine". It really made me thing about what communion really means. Perhaps is was the fact that I was reading about Marxist ideas in Christianity shortly before we started the Bible study, but I could really see that in communion everyone is equal in the eyes of God. No one is to be denied the forgiving grace of God. No one. God loves everyone equally. That is the point. I think that is the point of Christianity. Love.
No matter what happens. No matter what we do wrong, or right. We are all loved by God. We are all forgiven.
I have been thinking a lot about sin, forgiveness, and love lately. Especially love. As I was coming back from the orphanage that I visited today, I thought about the love of a child. The purity, and unquestioning trust and love of a child is something that is lost as we get older. I think everyone longs at one point or another to regain that level of trust and that openness of love. Love is what Jesus asks from all of us, whether or not you believe in the salvation aspect of Christianity. It is through love that we can defeat the "Rome" of greedy behavior. It is through love that we see that it is ever so important to forgive those who have wronged us. To feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and help those in need. It is through love that we can find peace. It is through love that the kingdom of God is found.
On a side note, Tim has malaria. Pole sana, Tim. That brings the malaria count to 50% for Wartburgers in TZ.
Peace,
PHW
After the Bible study we had a short communion service. I stood next to two men that had killed an Indian Muslim and cut up his body for "medicine". It really made me thing about what communion really means. Perhaps is was the fact that I was reading about Marxist ideas in Christianity shortly before we started the Bible study, but I could really see that in communion everyone is equal in the eyes of God. No one is to be denied the forgiving grace of God. No one. God loves everyone equally. That is the point. I think that is the point of Christianity. Love.
No matter what happens. No matter what we do wrong, or right. We are all loved by God. We are all forgiven.
I have been thinking a lot about sin, forgiveness, and love lately. Especially love. As I was coming back from the orphanage that I visited today, I thought about the love of a child. The purity, and unquestioning trust and love of a child is something that is lost as we get older. I think everyone longs at one point or another to regain that level of trust and that openness of love. Love is what Jesus asks from all of us, whether or not you believe in the salvation aspect of Christianity. It is through love that we can defeat the "Rome" of greedy behavior. It is through love that we see that it is ever so important to forgive those who have wronged us. To feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and help those in need. It is through love that we can find peace. It is through love that the kingdom of God is found.
On a side note, Tim has malaria. Pole sana, Tim. That brings the malaria count to 50% for Wartburgers in TZ.
Peace,
PHW
Sunday, November 9, 2008
A week like no other
This past week has been quite like no other. I have had some pretty high highs and bizarrely low lows. As I elaborated in the previous post I saw a village fall victim to cruel and unusual punishment. I watched the eyes of those hungry and tired look me in the eyes with fear. I watched a nation elect someone who stands for change and hope or the United States of America, from the other side of the world. Where ever I go I can hear the somewhere in the alleyways a faint voice accentuating the word "Obama". Obamerica.
I stared in a bizarre amazement as we drove past a man that had more than likely fallen victim to a ton of iron and steel lying partially on the road, dead. That very same day I watched a newly born calf stand up for the first time. I felt the great hospitality of a village that seemed genuinely excited to see us. Within that one day I had seen the spectrum of life. The beginning and the end.
This weekend I got to peer briefly into the minds of our teachers when it comes to relationships and girls. I became very aware that there are universals among men and their understanding of women. That we have absolutely no clue why they do the things they do.
So many things have happened. I know that my fellow American students can articulate their ideas and their experiences really well, but for some reason I cannot recently. I have begun to internalize things and don't really want to talk about them. Not just bad things that bother me, but also good things, things that I just want to keep to myself for a while. I am finding that I am doing this more and more...keeping things to myself. I am not sure how I feel about it and I am afraid that when I get home I may upset people for not talking too much about all of the things that I have experienced, but then again I may talk too much...who knows.
I have 5 more weeks here. I still have a lot of growing to do. A lot of things that need to be figured out. Things that need to be thought through. I hope it is enough time.
Last but not least, I want to say Happy Birthday to my parents. Sorry I haven't emailed...for some reason whenever I get on to email you the internet is either out, I can't log into my mail or some other bizarre thing happens...So HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM AND DAD! LOVE YOU!!!
Peace,
Peter
I stared in a bizarre amazement as we drove past a man that had more than likely fallen victim to a ton of iron and steel lying partially on the road, dead. That very same day I watched a newly born calf stand up for the first time. I felt the great hospitality of a village that seemed genuinely excited to see us. Within that one day I had seen the spectrum of life. The beginning and the end.
This weekend I got to peer briefly into the minds of our teachers when it comes to relationships and girls. I became very aware that there are universals among men and their understanding of women. That we have absolutely no clue why they do the things they do.
So many things have happened. I know that my fellow American students can articulate their ideas and their experiences really well, but for some reason I cannot recently. I have begun to internalize things and don't really want to talk about them. Not just bad things that bother me, but also good things, things that I just want to keep to myself for a while. I am finding that I am doing this more and more...keeping things to myself. I am not sure how I feel about it and I am afraid that when I get home I may upset people for not talking too much about all of the things that I have experienced, but then again I may talk too much...who knows.
I have 5 more weeks here. I still have a lot of growing to do. A lot of things that need to be figured out. Things that need to be thought through. I hope it is enough time.
Last but not least, I want to say Happy Birthday to my parents. Sorry I haven't emailed...for some reason whenever I get on to email you the internet is either out, I can't log into my mail or some other bizarre thing happens...So HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM AND DAD! LOVE YOU!!!
Peace,
Peter
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Eye for an eye the world goes blind
Today we trekked out to dangerous territory. We went to the village where all of the conflict is, the place where a Maasai man was shot to death and then the warriors killed five people. The place where the police brutality has taken place. The place that has been absolutely devastated by theft and where the people hide in fear.
After breakfast this morning we headed into Morogoro to buy as much food as we could for the village. The people are not able to go out for fear of being hurt or killed. After we filled up the SUV with food we embarked on our journey. As we got closer to the village it was eerie as the Maasai that typically line the streets and can be seen everywhere were no where to be found. As we turned on to a secondary road the stares of the people couldn't go on with out notice. The deeper we got, the longer the stares became. The expressions on the non-Maasai peoples face could told a story of negative emotions toward the Maasai, toward us, toward the whole situation. It felt as though we were driving to a forbidden place as we got closer to the village because the lack of Maasai. I never really realized how many people we typically saw at any given time on our way into the villages. There were no Maasai to be found, and the people that we did see on these secluded roads did not have the usual welcoming smile and wave, but instead a stare that penetrate into the soul.
When we arrived in the village, there was no one to be found, we were expecting people to be taking refuge in the school or the church, but no one was around except for three men that were waiting for us at the church. We unloaded the food and sat and talked with the men. As time went one a few more men showed up, but the women and children were no where to be found. It was too dangerous for them to live their regular lives in the village. As we talked with the men they told us that those that still remained in the area were living in the bush, in hiding. They hide from the corrupt and brutal police, the people that come to retaliate, the people that come to steal.
We were taken to the school where they had hidden all that they could before thieves came and ravished the village. Peering into the windows of the school it appeared that everyone left as fast as they could. Benches were flipped, school papers were everywhere, and the sheer chaos in the room reeked of fear and urgency. I couldn't help but think of the images that I had seen of WW2 where people left in such chaos.
After the school we walked to where the village had their well. While we were standing looking at their watering system a large truck came barreling through. The truck, and the men in it, had come to grab whatever they could. Apparently they have been there several times before to just take things, but the Maasai will not stop them. The Maasai are a strong people, but they are also gentle, and smart. They are not going to create more conflict for themselves by trying to stop these robbers. It blew my mind how the truck just came driving up in the middle of the day as if it were this persons job to come to this village everyday and just take things.
When we got back to the church, we noticed that women and children had come out of the woodwork, but were very cautious with at coming anywhere near us. They didn't know at first why we were there, but as they started to realize that we were there to worship with them they started to come in droves. The odd thing about it was the fact that they Maasai women, who are typically more than hospitable, avoided looking at us and shaking out hands. I am not saying that all of them did, but many of them refused to acknowledge our presence, which I feel is completely understandable.
The service was abnormally short because PH was told that the women wanted to go back to where they had come from as soon as possible. It was something out of the Bible...the whole thing really. As Tim has more than likely mentioned in his Blog, they made the bread unleavened because they needed to leave in a hurry.
I am still trying to sort out my thoughts about the whole situation. I think the magnitude of it is still not realized in my mind. A Maasai man was killed, and in a crime of passion the warriors killed five men. (that was something that we learned today. The news reports had said that the warriors retaliated and spoke in language of premeditation. After speaking with some of the villagers, which some of them may very well have been the warriors in question, we found out that the warriors had watched their friend fall to gunfire and they reacted immediately) One of the commissioners had said that the village is nothing but violent no good people and that their village should be destroyed and their land turned into a national park. I in no way support killing, but what is done is done. Maasai are dead, non-Maasai are dead why does an entire village of women and children have to suffer? This seems oddly like foreign policy in the US....
My brain is taxed, and my nerves are close to being shot.
Peace,
PHW
After breakfast this morning we headed into Morogoro to buy as much food as we could for the village. The people are not able to go out for fear of being hurt or killed. After we filled up the SUV with food we embarked on our journey. As we got closer to the village it was eerie as the Maasai that typically line the streets and can be seen everywhere were no where to be found. As we turned on to a secondary road the stares of the people couldn't go on with out notice. The deeper we got, the longer the stares became. The expressions on the non-Maasai peoples face could told a story of negative emotions toward the Maasai, toward us, toward the whole situation. It felt as though we were driving to a forbidden place as we got closer to the village because the lack of Maasai. I never really realized how many people we typically saw at any given time on our way into the villages. There were no Maasai to be found, and the people that we did see on these secluded roads did not have the usual welcoming smile and wave, but instead a stare that penetrate into the soul.
When we arrived in the village, there was no one to be found, we were expecting people to be taking refuge in the school or the church, but no one was around except for three men that were waiting for us at the church. We unloaded the food and sat and talked with the men. As time went one a few more men showed up, but the women and children were no where to be found. It was too dangerous for them to live their regular lives in the village. As we talked with the men they told us that those that still remained in the area were living in the bush, in hiding. They hide from the corrupt and brutal police, the people that come to retaliate, the people that come to steal.
We were taken to the school where they had hidden all that they could before thieves came and ravished the village. Peering into the windows of the school it appeared that everyone left as fast as they could. Benches were flipped, school papers were everywhere, and the sheer chaos in the room reeked of fear and urgency. I couldn't help but think of the images that I had seen of WW2 where people left in such chaos.
After the school we walked to where the village had their well. While we were standing looking at their watering system a large truck came barreling through. The truck, and the men in it, had come to grab whatever they could. Apparently they have been there several times before to just take things, but the Maasai will not stop them. The Maasai are a strong people, but they are also gentle, and smart. They are not going to create more conflict for themselves by trying to stop these robbers. It blew my mind how the truck just came driving up in the middle of the day as if it were this persons job to come to this village everyday and just take things.
When we got back to the church, we noticed that women and children had come out of the woodwork, but were very cautious with at coming anywhere near us. They didn't know at first why we were there, but as they started to realize that we were there to worship with them they started to come in droves. The odd thing about it was the fact that they Maasai women, who are typically more than hospitable, avoided looking at us and shaking out hands. I am not saying that all of them did, but many of them refused to acknowledge our presence, which I feel is completely understandable.
The service was abnormally short because PH was told that the women wanted to go back to where they had come from as soon as possible. It was something out of the Bible...the whole thing really. As Tim has more than likely mentioned in his Blog, they made the bread unleavened because they needed to leave in a hurry.
I am still trying to sort out my thoughts about the whole situation. I think the magnitude of it is still not realized in my mind. A Maasai man was killed, and in a crime of passion the warriors killed five men. (that was something that we learned today. The news reports had said that the warriors retaliated and spoke in language of premeditation. After speaking with some of the villagers, which some of them may very well have been the warriors in question, we found out that the warriors had watched their friend fall to gunfire and they reacted immediately) One of the commissioners had said that the village is nothing but violent no good people and that their village should be destroyed and their land turned into a national park. I in no way support killing, but what is done is done. Maasai are dead, non-Maasai are dead why does an entire village of women and children have to suffer? This seems oddly like foreign policy in the US....
My brain is taxed, and my nerves are close to being shot.
Peace,
PHW
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Quiet Weekend
It has been an interesting weekend so far. Since nothing really ended up happening on Friday, it has been a three day weekend here. It is oddly different because of the lack of things to do. I am not sure what to do with myself with this much time off. I don't think since we came here in September have we had more than one day off, because of Maasai village trips, Swahili lessons and other random things along the way. Yesterday I kind of lounged around and took long naps. Sort of felt like a lion, sleeping most of the day. In a way I feel that I wasted a day away in Africa by sleeping through most of it, but on the other hand, I was so tired from the previous week that it felt good to just sleep and nap.
Though today is just starting, I think that I am going to try and load my day with studying and personal reflection. I have kind of fallen behind on my personal reflection and I can feel the tensions in myself build. It is a weird sensation, almost overwhelming. I am finding that I NEED personal reflection time. If I don't spend time to empty my head, my thoughts stay there all day and just build and become a sopping mess of worry and anxiety...maybe I need to be on drugs...hmmm....nah.
Swahili is becoming very difficult for me. I am all of a sudden forgetting simple words, and grammar structure and I don't know why. It is as though the more I try to squeeze in, the more stuff falls out and then eventually it all falls out. It is becoming frustrating because there are times when I can't say the same thing two days in a row. It is as though my brain is rapidly losing memory. If this keeps up, by the time I leave here I won't even be able to say hello.
Unfortunately, I feel as though things are becoming routine here. Unless there is something out of the ordinary with a village or with our schedule during the week, villages start to run together. Worship services seem to go by without me even noticing anymore. I am finding myself sitting for four to five hour periods of time in a worship service and forgetting that I am even sitting there. I remember beginning the service, taking communion, and then leaving... I am not sure if this is a good thing or an incredibly terrible thing that is happening. I feel as though I am just living. Like this is my life right now, and I live it one day at a time, just like at home. Africa has become my new home. I am not shocked by too much anymore, when I see things that I used to find absolutely fascinating in the beginning, I now see them as everyday life.
Becoming more conditioned to Africa makes me wonder what is going to happen when I get home? What kind of re-entry culture shock am I going to experience. Will I feel at home right away, or will it take me a while to get back into the swing of things? There are times here where I miss home quite a bit, will there be times when I feel the same way about Tanzania? It is hard to say what is going to happen when I get back home. I am curious to see what happens.
Peace,
PHW
Though today is just starting, I think that I am going to try and load my day with studying and personal reflection. I have kind of fallen behind on my personal reflection and I can feel the tensions in myself build. It is a weird sensation, almost overwhelming. I am finding that I NEED personal reflection time. If I don't spend time to empty my head, my thoughts stay there all day and just build and become a sopping mess of worry and anxiety...maybe I need to be on drugs...hmmm....nah.
Swahili is becoming very difficult for me. I am all of a sudden forgetting simple words, and grammar structure and I don't know why. It is as though the more I try to squeeze in, the more stuff falls out and then eventually it all falls out. It is becoming frustrating because there are times when I can't say the same thing two days in a row. It is as though my brain is rapidly losing memory. If this keeps up, by the time I leave here I won't even be able to say hello.
Unfortunately, I feel as though things are becoming routine here. Unless there is something out of the ordinary with a village or with our schedule during the week, villages start to run together. Worship services seem to go by without me even noticing anymore. I am finding myself sitting for four to five hour periods of time in a worship service and forgetting that I am even sitting there. I remember beginning the service, taking communion, and then leaving... I am not sure if this is a good thing or an incredibly terrible thing that is happening. I feel as though I am just living. Like this is my life right now, and I live it one day at a time, just like at home. Africa has become my new home. I am not shocked by too much anymore, when I see things that I used to find absolutely fascinating in the beginning, I now see them as everyday life.
Becoming more conditioned to Africa makes me wonder what is going to happen when I get home? What kind of re-entry culture shock am I going to experience. Will I feel at home right away, or will it take me a while to get back into the swing of things? There are times here where I miss home quite a bit, will there be times when I feel the same way about Tanzania? It is hard to say what is going to happen when I get back home. I am curious to see what happens.
Peace,
PHW
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