a visit in mwakiwasha village

"karibu mwakiwasha"

Last week we traveled from the big city of Mwanza to the small village of Mwakiwasha… and I left you there.  This week I’d like to welcome you into the village of Mwakiwasha as my guest.

mwakiwasha village

Because my friends at Mwakiwasha knew I was bringing guests from the United States (Kevin and Sara), who had never been to Africa before, they went a bit more formal with our visit.  They had gathered a whole bunch of people from the village, many of them children, to greet us upon our arrival.  Then together we went into their small church building.

children in the pews

We sang a few songs… in Swahili — because the guys at Mwakiwasha know that I haven’t learned Sukuma yet.

a swahili songbook

Then we had one of the best Bible studies of which I’ve been a part in the village.  It was also in Swahili (I won’t start learning Sukuma until next March), and was from 2 Peter 4.

a short sermon

I especially liked the sermon for two reasons:

1. It was short.  Often there’s a Bible reading followed by a really long sermon, followed by someone else summarizing the sermon.  That’s good for oral cultures, but difficult for me.
2. It wasn’t on doctrine — ie. what we have to believe.  Rather it was on loving one another regardless of race or nationality.

i neglected to bring an english bible for our visitors -- so we "shared" my swahili one

While we were meeting together, the food was being prepared.  The pictures below are not of the actual kitchen where our food was cooked that day (as far as I know), but are of a kitchen in Mwakiwasha — and one that is pretty typical for that matter.

cooking is generally done in a special "cooking hut" or outside

You can see in the corner the three stones placed in a triangle and surrounded by soot.  A fire is built inside those stones and pots placed on top of them when cooking.

cooking corner of the kitchen

Now we wash our hands, and are served soap and water in order to do so.  Kind of reminiscent of foot-washing in the New Testament (at least a little).  We’re not being served because we are guests, rather this is typical hand-washing practice.  [Though to be fair, I suppose Sara is being served because she's a guest?  Generally the men would eat together, while the women cook and serve.]

The cokes, however, ARE special for the visitors.  They were served before the meal while we were chatting about the differences between Tanzania and South Korea (where Kevin and Sara live and work).

washing hands after the appetizer of warm coca-cola

We’re served chai (hot tea) — and this tea has a WHOLE lot of sugar in it.  I’m not sure if they always drink it this sweet or if it’s just for guests.  I’m pretty sure it’s always this sweet; and it’s hard for me to drink.  [Imagine that, an Alabama boy who can't handle some sweet tea... I should be made to swim across a catfish pond nude (a very typical south Alabama punishment).]

pouring the chai -- you can also see our meal to the left (sorry for the blur)

The way eating works is you grab some rice with your right hand (only) and apply adequate pressure, fashioning it into a solid chunk.  Then you dip it in the sauce in which the meat is resting.  When you want chicken, you just grab a piece out of the center bowl (all the while praying you’re getting a part of the chicken you might actually want to eat).  OR if you’re not eating well enough, you’ll be told to take more chicken (poor Sara, she doesn’t seem thrilled about eating meat much of anywhere).

it's not so hard, right?

It’s not as easy as it looks.  I’m not above admitting that I’m horrible at this whole making “rice balls” thing.  I’m sure the guys in the village sit around a campfire at night and laugh about how poorly I shape my rice.  I’ve invented lots of theories on how to do so better, ranging from placing the rice in a different part of my hand to applying varying amounts of pressure to getting more oil and sauce on my hands before making my horrid attempts at forming solid lumps of rice.  I’ve asked the Tanzanians for tutorials, and they’ve gladly obliged.  Nothing has helped.

I’ve never in my life been accused of being bad at eating… until now.

kevin's hand is on the right, mine on the left

The meal is over, and we’ve washed our hands again.  Now we sit around and talk.  More often than not, meals in Mwakiwasha involve lots of questions about other cultures.  The biggest revelations in this question-and-answer session were:

1. Americans and Koreans must use “some kind of medicine” to keep from having lots of children.
2. The greatest change in the village of Mwakiwasha in the past 50 years is a more recent one — when they began accepting Christ as Lord earlier this same century, the men stopped beating their wives.  [The Sukuma are known for four things: 1) having lots of cows, 2) having particularly strong black magic, 3) their skills of drumming and dancing, and 4) the beatings their women traditionally have received.]

satisfied

Hope you enjoyed your visit.  Next week I’ll walk you around the village a bit.

mwanza to mwakiwasha

One of my old buddies from college was traveling in East Africa recently, so Christie and I picked he and a friend up in Mwanza to show them around.  On the way to our home in Geita, Kevin and Sarah accompanied me to a village outside of Sengerema town.  This is the first post in a series and is a “photo essay” of our travel from the city of Mwanza to the village of Mwakiwasha.

mwanza: home of paved roads, big buildings, traffic, and even a red light

Mwanza has a population of something like 1,000,000 people.  It’s home to many of the government offices we visit, as well as our post office box, mechanic, various grocers we frequent, and a couple of western restaurants.  I have a love-hate relationship with Mwanza — I despise the traffic and fast pace of life, but I, oh, so enjoy the occasional cheeseburger next to a swimming pool.

leaving mwanza

Every trip to or from Mwanza requires a 30-minute ferry ride across a portion of Lake Victoria.  That 30 minutes, however, does NOT include time spent waiting in line for the ferry’s arrival.  On this day, both ferries are running (you can see the second in the background) so the wait is short (30 minutes).

ferry across lake victoria (or a finger of it)

The only town of any size between Mwanza and Geita is Sengerema, which is also where we turn off to get to Mwakiwasha village.

kevin in sengerema town

Sengerema’s not a bad place to stop for a meal.  This is mishikaki and chips, a pretty easy dish to come by.  It’s just grilled beef and fat french fries, and if you can get past how chewy the meat and gristle is, it’s one of the best and most affordable meals available.  A plate with a soda costs about $2.00, depending on where you get it.

mishikaki and chips in sengerema town

After a quick lunch, we’re off the paved road and towards Mwakiwasha.

on the road — loaded bicycles a common sight

A village center is a place to which all the surrounding people can come to buy and sell goods.  There’s a small market and usually a school of some sort.  Geita was once a village center, but is now a booming small town.

entering a village center

primary school in a village center

on the road again

Bicycles are the primary means of moving goods in most small towns and even more so when you get into the more rural areas.

yes, even in remote villages they consume beer and coke

Because of the deterioration, you can see in this picture the way in which a mud home is built.

framing of wood with mud slung into place both inside and out

African traditional religion is prevalent throughout Tanzania, especially as you travel deeper into the bush.  Some witch doctors specialize in natural herbal treatments, while others focus more on black magic, witchcraft, and ancestor “manipulation.”  The Sukuma people are famous for their powerful magic.

a witch doctor's compound

The further we get into the bush, the more spread out the huts become, with planting fields scattered in between.

huts across the countryside

And 3 1/2 hours after leaving Mwanza, we’ve arrived at Mwakiwasha.  From Geita, this trip is only about 1 hour and 15 minutes — though we also wouldn’t have stopped for a meal coming that direction.

mwakiwasha village

Next post in the series: a visit in mwakiwasha village

missionary predicament: hospitality and rest

How important is rest?  Do missionaries and development workers deserve time off?  Who decides when we get to relax?  Is it okay to lie in certain situations… if it’s expected?

[This post is one installment of a somewhat (okay, extremely) irregular feature called Missionary Predicaments.  Occasionally I attempt to explain some recent (or ongoing) dilemma having to do with being a missionary and development worker in Tanzania.  And then I ask what you think the proper Christian missionary response would be.  Then I do whatever you said.  Well… maybe not.  But I do welcome all advice — especially if you’re over 50 years old and have grey hair.]

Situation

You and your wife have worked eight days straight and really need a break.  You want to sit in your house and watch a few episodes of West Wing without making dinner for anyone, chatting with neighbors, or answering questions about job opportunities within your “organization.”  Just as you sit down with homemade tortilla chips and glasses of sent-from-America Crystal Light, there’s a knock at the gate and a loud “hodi,” followed by a continuous and steady string of “hodi”s.*  It’s an acquaintance of yours, a local pastor from a church down the road, and you’re sure he’s come just to sit and chat for a bit (an hourish) on the front porch — which requires that your wife make chai, and neither of you watch West Wing until later or, more likely, another day.  What do you do?

Background and Culture

• Visitors are extremely important in Tanzanian culture.  It is always an honor to have a guest.
• Therefore, it is important to be a good and hospitable host.  A female in the house should at least make tea, and probably provide a snack of some sort, as the men sit and talk together.
• When something is an inconvenience to a Tanzanian, he is expected to lie.  It is extremely rude to tell someone, “no.”  But it’s perfectly acceptable to say, “I have a lot of work to do today,” even if it is untrue — even if the person with whom you’re speaking knows it to be untrue.  Someone asks to borrow your expensive camera or, better yet, asks if they can have it.  If you tell them “no,” you’ve insulted them.  They walk away with a hurt (or broken) relationship, mumbling about how you could have at least spared them the indignity by answering, “Maybe another day,” or “Well, my wife really needs to use it tonight.”

Factors to Consider

• It’s unlikely you and your family will ever have more than 3 or 4 uninterrupted hours in your house.  And it’s nearly impossible to predict (or guess) when those times will be.  People show up at all hours of the day.
• The pastor has already seen you through the windows of your house (as you’ve only lived there a relatively short time and don’t have curtains yet — water and electricity took precedence).  So pretending you’re not home is not an option — not that you would have done that anyway.  Just saying….
• This is starting to become a trend:  planning a time to relax and having it interrupted.
• It’s not that talking with this pastor is extremely difficult or belaboring (it’s getting much easier for you to talk for an uninterrupted hour in Swahili, though your brain is a little tired afterward).  It’s more that you’ve been looking forward to this break — and believe it will actually help you, your ministry to others, and your marriage if you enjoy a little downtime.
• It’s not just an inconvenience to you, though.  Your wife also is expected to serve tea and maybe snacks.  Keep in mind, there are no bags of chips or cookies in your pantry.  And if there are, they either came from the states or were very expensive — and probably wouldn’t taste good to your pastor friend anyway.  That means whipping up some chapatis or thawing out some of your homemade bread to serve with jam and butter.
• Back in the states, you might have just explained to your friend that you and the wife really need some time together, and had planned for that time to be now.  You’ve been busy and need a break.  And your friend would have understood.  Of course he probably also would’ve called before walking the mile-and-a-half to your house.  Okay, he never would have walked to your house.
• This visitor has just walked 1 1/2 miles to your house.
• [Editor's note -- added after initial publishing for clarification] Explaining that you need rest, this is your day off, or you’re wanting to spend time with your family are not acceptable reasons for turning away guests.  Work, sickness, having other guests, or even preparing for other guests would, however, be acceptable.
• You’re trying to live into the culture of Tanzania, and want to provide as few barriers to the gospel as possible.  But you’re just not sure lying is the right thing to do — even though it’s culturally acceptable.
• You realize lying is also at times culturally acceptable in your home culture — even among Christians:
  • “Girlfriend, your hair looks good.  You rock that mohawk!”
  • “Oh, I’m fine, doing just great — and you?”
  • “Your baby is so cute.  [She doesn't look at all like an alien lizard.]“
  • “I can’t tell you’ve gained a pound.”
  • “It’s not you — it’s me.”
  • “I just don’t want to ruin the great friendship we have.”
  • “What dinosaur?  I don’t see a dinosaur.”
• You probably should be thinking about what to do in this specific situation, but also how you will deal with all of this for the next eightish years.  Can you say the same thing you say today every time this happens?  Should you find a different place to relax?  What about when you get even busier with agriculture development and church planting?  What then?

What would you do?  In the short term?  In the long term?  How important is rest?  Time with family?  How do we create and protect these moments?  [I'll share with you in an upcoming post what we've decided to do.]

* Hodi = Swahili word that announces the presence of a visitor at a door or gate.  I’m guessing this practice developed over the knock because of the general lack of doors on which one could knock.  And a single “hodi” will not, under any circumstance, suffice.  The visitor is required to “hodi” constantly until the door is opened or (in some cases) someone from inside answers with “nakuja,” a familiar way of saying, “I’m coming.”  However, one must continue yelling “nakuja” until one has actually opened the door, lest the “hodi”ing begin again.  It seems the general rule is that there can be no time of quiet, however brief, between the arrival of a visitor and the actual opening of the door.  I’ve on several occasions thought about doing the same sort of thing while waiting for my food at a restaurant or while waiting to be helped at the hardware store — constantly repeating my order until I actually have the item in my hand.  It truly is sad that a word announcing a guest (something which is quite an honor in this context) can come to mean about the same thing as nails screeching on a chalkboard.