Tulikwenda Iringa!

Translation: We went to Iringa!

Well, this last week wasn’t as busy, with the exception of this weekend. As I said last time, we were travelling but I mixed up the sites. We actually went to Iringa, and I’m very glad we got to go! We had a great time and got to see an amazing ministry in action.

Things started off Friday afternoon earlier than we had anticipated. Since we have a shorter day on Friday’s, we figured we would go to school, leave on time, go back to the house to get ready, and leave Morogoro maybe around 2, putting us in Iringa around 6 or so. However, Pastor went and got us tickets which was a blessing because that was one less thing to worry about when we got to the bus stand. The problem was this bus was leaving at 1, and we were being informed at about 10:45 with two hours of school left. We made things work, and although we were rather rushed, we made it to the bus on time and headed out of Morogoro after sitting on the bus for an hour at the shop. I really wasn’t too bothered by the stopping or the repairs; it was the welding on the inside of the bus while we were still on the inside of the bus that kind of disturbed me. Nonetheless, at about 2:45 we started up again. This was the first time I was travelling in Tanzania in a different direction; every time (which haven’t been many since my arrival) that I’ve left Morogoro I’ve gone on the DAR road. This time we went the opposite direction; after about an hour, much to my pleasant surprise, we passed through Mikumi National Park, a wildlife reserve. For the first time, I saw wild giraffes, elephants, zebras, antelope, etc. So cool!

To get to Iringa, you have to actually go up and down a mountain; I’ve basically concluded that Tanzania has tons of mountains because this was a whole other set from the Uluguru mountains in Morogoro and there are more in Tanzania, including the famous Mt. Kilimanjaro. Anyway, the drive was a little precarious, and it felt like the driver wanted to make up for the time lost during the repairs because he went awfully fast around some pretty small curves. However, he did succeed in making up time because we got there around 6:30 despite delays. We knew we were going to IOP, Ilula Orphan Program which is close to but not in Iringa and we had contact with the head of it, but we really didn’t know anything else. When we arrived, there were a group of 4 or 5 mzungus there to greet us, which Christine and I were not expecting. It became quickly apparent that this was a huge operation as the girls started explaining things to us. All of them were volunteers who were doing gap years of service. There were more of them at the building; they were just the ones who had come to greet us.

When we actually got to the site, we learned that we were in the volunteer quarters, the orphanage, and main living spaces but there was also a high school, preschool, and more. As the night continued on we were also told about the sewing, shoemaking, carpentry, and welding shops that provided local people with jobs, the shops and restaurants to sell those items, even the hope of adding a primary school too! To help run everything, there are numerous volunteers there mostly from Europe all the time. Basically, we were in the midst of a huge and impressive ministry, all started incredibly only 11 years ago by one missionary. Berit was an amazing person to talk to; her story and how God has used her and blessed her work is absolutely mind blowing. She truly cares for the girls she works with and takes care of and wants to make a huge impact on the world around her. I’m not sure she could be a better job than she is.

That night was pretty calm; we got there and pretty soon after we ate supper. The orphanage girls, about 30 of them mostly teenaged, then sang welcome songs for us, danced for us, and made us dance with them. I hope at least entertained them with my awful African dancing. We spent the rest of the night talking to Berit. The living space was a very interesting mix of Tanzanian resources with Western ideas. We stayed with the volunteers; each room (and there were many) had four bunk beds, two wardrobes, two desks, etc. It reminded me of church camp cabins. The bathrooms were a bit more Tanzanian; all of the toilets were “squat toilets” or glorified holes in the ground that you squat over to use. They’re incredibly awkward, but at least these were rather clean. The showers weren’t really any different than Morogoro except the water wasn’t just cold, it was icy! The water in our pipes really shouldn’t be called cold; it’s just not temperature modified, and usually that just makes it lukewarm. Sometimes, depending on how long it’s been sitting in the pipes, it’s even a little warm. These were hard to put your whole body under at once.

The next morning, we were asked to help the pastor at the Methodist church who works a lot with IOP; he needed to plant sunflower seeds on his shamba (farm). So, Christine and I got to farm like real Tanzanians. Before going further into this story, I should qualify shambas. A shamba is more of a very large garden, not a farm like back home. Just about everyone, regardless of other occupation, has one in Tanzania. However, I will still say I farmed like a Tanzanian and be proud of it! We only had Upendo (the pastor), Christine, and myself with one jembe (hoe), a whole bunch of sunflower seeds, and a larger field than we could not plant in one morning. We still made the biggest dent we could with the time we had. Upendo went first with the jembe digging up the dirt, Christine followed with the seeds, and I then went covering up the dirt. We really needed another jembe for me to cover up the holes, but we didn’t have one so I just had to use my feet. We were blessed with a wonderfully cool, cloudy morning. I hardly sweated that much even! I somehow managed to still burn my arms and feet, but it didn’t feel bad at the time. We only planted about 9 rows. Upendo had some matter he had to attend to at the time so for a long while it was just me and Christine. The looks of people passing by, seeing two white woman farming with nothing more than a jembe was hilarious. We’d greet them smiling in Swahili or He He (the local tribal language), and they were even more surprised. :D

That afternoon we got a tour of the whole site, which took a whole hour and a half, just to give an idea of how large everything is. That night the volunteers played a movie for the girls, Tarzan. The one thing I would have loved to do that we didn’t would have been to talk to the girls more. We really only saw them that first night; when we ate, we only ate with the other volunteers. I appreciated getting to talk to other people closer to my age and situation than the missionaries in Morogoro, but I wanted to talk more to girls about their daily lives. The next morning we got to go to the Methodist church, which is still too small for a building (although the plans have been made and foundation has been laid). They met in IOP’s preschool. Upendo said that when he arrived to Ilula, there were only three members. The church was started at the same time as ours, 20 years ago when Pastor Umba and the five other Congolese missioanries came to Tanzania to start the United Methodist church. However, the Ilula church has gone through a number of difficult struggles one after and another. Hopefully now, with a pastor as passionate and dedicated as Upendo (which incidentally means love in Swahili) things will change. He’s already  gotten the membership up to 24 in a number of months, and has plans to do so much that it will be something very fun to watch grow. The service was rather similar to ours, but a bit more traditional. We sang a lot more hymns than our church; the sermon was also preached in English and Swahili because Upendo is bilingual (bwana asifewe!). After lunch with everyone, we got ready to head out.

This was trickier than we had originally anticipated. Since we weren’t in Iringa proper, we had to wait for a but to come by basically. Also, we were leaving at the wrong time of day. Buses tend to leave from Iringa early in the morning because most are going to DAR, 8 hours away. Thankfully those that go to DAR will stop in Morogoro, but leaving at 2 was rather late. We waited for an hour and watched a number of buses go by. If a bus still has room, they will pick people up, but, apparently, the buses had all filled in Iringa because they kept driving on by. Finally, a small vehicle, bigger than a dala dala but smaller than a coach bus drove by with a “Private” sign in front. Upendo stopped and asked and they agreed to take us to Morogoro. We know the bus was on the way to DAR, and we think it might have been a church group. The whole time we were in the vehicle they played Swahili gospel music, and some women in the back with me were openly reading their Bibles. The ride took a while to get going, but we made it back to Morogoro at 7 pm Sunday night. It was a lot for a few days, and both of us were exhausted that night. Like I said though, getting to see such an amazing ministry was so worth it.

The only things I have to report about Morogoro life is that every day God reminds me what a blessing my kids are. I’ve been struggling with homesickness lately. I feel like I just want to be done with this adventure and back in America, and really, it’s not the life here. I still don’t mind bucket showers, the mosquitoes, the heat, etc. Well, not very much anyway, and not enough to make me want to return, but I really miss the people back home. Thankfully, every day from about 7:40 am to 2:40 pm this isn’t even a concern to me. I just get to spend the day with my kids, and I’m having the reverse problem there. It’s just two months until I leave, and I really have to start facing the reality that I will be saying good bye soon. Even if two months sounds like a long time, it’s really not. To add even more, time will fly. We will be going to Dodoma to visit the Methodist church there soon, the first weekend in March we’re going to Mt. Kilimanjaro and the last full week I’m here we’re going to the Serengeti. Every time I think about my last few days at school, I really get the urge to tear up, and I dread it.

I’m learning just how hard it is to have your heart in two places at once. That’s what I admire about people like Berit. She goes home one month every year; Tanzania is her real home. I’m not suggesting that I’ll be staying longer here or moving here forever. I’m quite certain that God isn’t calling me to do that, or at least not very soon. I’ll be back in America, and I plan to stay for a while when I return. I truly learning a lot though about how to be better servant of God’s people. It requires a long commitment, truly dedicating yourself and your gifts to others. In a six-month term, you can’t do that. You can accomplish perhaps a tiny sliver of it, but the kind of giving that we are called to by God is virtually impossible. However, God doesn’t call us to give just to those in third world countries; we should give to every one we can no matter where we are, and hopefully I get to continue doing just that, here and back home soon.

God bless,

Kjirstin