Interfaith Leadership Institute: Day 1

I know it's midnight,and I'm tired, and it's been a day of information overload, but I'm going to try and make this blog post make sense. Please bear with me.
~
Our group of 4 students and 1 professor arrived safely in Atlanta yesterday afternoon. The conference started off this afternoon at Emory University's conference center, with an overview of what Interfaith Youth Core (IFYC) is all about, then afterwards we had our first break-out session. This meant out of us 150-some people, we broke into groups made up of 5 or six college delegations. Since it's the first day, we all got up and introduced ourselves, and intentionally talked about the differences of our faith. Some of us were Christian, some were Muslim, some were Hindu, some didn't identify with a religion or believe in a higher power at all. And that's what's so great. What I love about IFYC is that it's not an organization that wants to dumb things down, ignore our differences and sing Kumbayaa together. It wants people to know that we are different, and that we can learn from our differences. I myself strongly believe that learning from these different faith traditions helps me reassess what I really believe, and therefore strengthens my own faith. What's also very cool about this Leadership Institute that they put on is that everybody who's here actually wants to be here. Everybody's eager to know how they can build bridges through interfaith dialogue and service instead of maintaining walls.
We talked about how our college communities have responded to our interfaith-ing, both positively and negatively. For our group from Concordia College, while we love the positive response we're getting from students and faculty, we're also glad that we have encountered opposition from others--that means that our mission and message is being heard, and that the dialogue has been sparked, and the diversity of our community is being reflected.


I want to summarize a few of the things I've picked up here from various speakers. As members of an interfaith movement, IFYC believes that we should

~Voice our values. This means not being shy about our diversity.

~Engage with others! I shouldn't have to explain why: nothing gets done, no understanding is made, if we do not communicate with and learn from one another.

~Take action. So, with the knowledge and understanding that we now possess, we then should go out in the world and start making some positive changes.

And just like that, you change the world :)

~~~

These break-out sessions with other colleges that I talked about: each of them are named after an interfaith activist from throughout history, such as the Ghandi Group, The MLK Group, the Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel Group. Us? We're in the Dorothy Day group, which made me a bit too excited. I did a pretty emphatic arm-pumping motion,a la Napolean Dynamite.

Then of course, the highlight of the day was hearing IFYC founder Eboo Patel speak at dinner. He knew that in a way he was preaching to the choir by talking about how important interfaith dialogue and service is. I wish I could tell you more about the content of the speech, but I was so enamored that I didn't really take notes at all. And geez, I always take notes. And there was an overarching music metaphor, which was awesome! So, I'm hoping someone recorded it, 'cause I'd love for y'all to be able to Google or Youtube it. He did say that our job is not to ask, "Eboo, what are you going to do about this? When are you going to get something started in my community?" It's our job. We start it. We should mobilize ourselves and other people, we should be teaching people, and serving together.
Our delegation got to meet Eboo Patel and talk with him--we're really excited, because he'll be speaking at our school next year! "I'm not coming in the winter, though," he said, right up front. He doesn't know what he's missing. So, we got our picture with him, I got my copy of his book "Acts of Faith" signed, and it was very cool. All I can say is that he's the real deal.
Later in the evening we did more mingling activities, and I started hanging out with a few new people, and hey, there's a piano in the lobby, we said, so we started playing it. Me and someone else were just improvising tunes for a good 45 minutes. It's amazing how that always seems to happen to me. Music follows me everywhere; I can't seem to shake it. It brings me together with people that I never thought I'd encounter, ever. I feel so blessed by this.

Ok, that's all I can manage tonight. Stay tuned for more tomorrow!

Back in Moorhead...for now

Winter break has ended and I've been back at school since Saturday. Then, I'm leaving again on Wednesday for Atlanta! I've been alternating between long periods of packing for the trip, organizing everything for the school year, taking walks in the freakishly warm weather, sleeping, and watching "Throw Down Your Heart" on Hulu.
And hasn't it been loverly! Being back that early means that campus is rather quiet, and the time by myself is helping me start the semester off all confident and organized.


I really didn't want to come back at first, but now that I am back, I'm feeling optimistic about the semester. Last fall I had a huge learning curve, and now I've pretty much got my bearings. There are little things I'm doing to keep myself sane this semester: growing a pot of marigolds, keeping my desk clean enough to actually use, drawing (I specialize in hedgehogs and Hobbes-like tigers) and jotting down little thoughts on index cards, going to bed earlier, and doing pseudo-yoga stretches (because I'm not disciplined enough for real yoga). If I keep up with these things, I will be alright.

Interfaithy Things and Christmas Break

Hello, Christmas break. Hello, home. It's been quite the first semester of college, with lots of ups and downs, but I'm proud to say that I'm still alive, I don't feel like dropping out, and that even with all the stress, I've had some really good experiences. Victory! Now I'm just focusing on relaxing(though I still have to practice),until my next great adventure to Atlanta in January. What brings me there, exactly? Well... At Concordia, I got involved with a student group called Better Together. It's objective is to promote interfaith dialogue on campus and in the Fargo-Moorhead community. Now, you might think that both these places are heavily populated by white, Christian Lutherans, but they are actually more diverse than you might think. So we try to figure out ways to reach out to people of different backgrounds and beliefs and do service projects. Like this, for example. One of the things that binds us together in the midst of differences is our faith calling us to serve our neighbors. I wish that more people acknowledged this! Hundreds of Better Together groups are being started at colleges all across the country, and they are all part of the outreach campaign started by Interfaith Youth Core, which seeks to create a international and interfaith movement to bring about social justice. Every year, IFYC hosts a conference for us college-age youth, where we get trained on how to organize interfaith dialogue and action at our schools and in the world. This year it's in Atlanta. GUESS WHO"S GOING TO IT. Yeah, I'm pretty excited. I feel honored and fortunate to be able to go. Not only will it be an extraordinary learning opportunity, but I'll be going with a super great bunch of fellow Better Together-ers as well. I'm hoping to learn from them and their life and faith (or no faith) experiences just as much as from the conference.

A host of different things...

After being sick all through spring break, I'm finally on the mend. The last few days I've been really excited about college this fall, which is weird, because for a long time I was dreading it. There's something about the never ending winter that's made me want to push the fastforward button and be in late August so I can start at Concordia-Moorhead. I found out this week about my financial aid package (not too shabby) and what dorm I'll be in (the one connected to the music building!)

In other news, I'm

*trying to compose more music, trying to sort the good stuff from the crap (which is harder than it sounds), and actually finish something.

*on the lookout for summer jobs nearby. Blah. Figuring out a plan if I need to wing it. (I'm an expert weed puller/yard worker and house sitter)

*Trying to be all Buddha-like and live in the moment. Ha! Let's see how that works.

*Bracing for the ickiness that is the spring thaw. I like spring, just not the melting snow mixed with dog poop and worm smell that lasts for a couple weeks prior.

*Playing Bach's Invention in C minor. Playing anything by Bach is like broccoli--it's good for you and it helps you to be well balanced. The Inventions are super yummy and the C minor is really fun to play, what with the interweaving voices everywhere.

*Thinking about taking violin lessons this summer. I've been teaching myself for 2 years, and I'm at the point where I'm wonderfully average, but I'd like to seek some professional help so I don't hurt myself (literally). I never thought I'd like Bach so much, but the stuff he wrote for violin has been really inspiring me to practice so that one day I can play some great work of his! I don't plan to become the next Joshua Bell, but I'd like to learn enough to play some decent chamber and fiddle music for sure.

*Really wanting to travel. Anywhere. I'm going a little stir-crazy.

Between trips

In the past five years, I've taken six trips to Tanzania. They are major travels, 14 to 16 days in duration. On most of the trips, I've been one of maybe two returning travelers. Each trip requires at least six months of preparation, and often several months worth of follow up work upon our return.

My last trip was in August 2010, my next will be July 2012. For the first time in years, I am not in the middle of pre- or post-travel work. I'm taking a breather.

I really miss the anticipation, the excitement, the wondering of what new experiences I'll have next. I miss my friends in Tanzania. I miss the bananas, the singing, the drumming, the walking, the conversations, the relationships. I miss getting to know a whole new crowd of travelers.

But there are compensations. Time with my kids, time to read, time to reflect. Time for jigsaw puzzles, long baths, short trips closer to home. Time for concerts and plays and dinners out. Time to host a visiting niece or nephew. Time to let my hair grow.

The Drum and the Spider

In October 2010, I brought a drum back from Tanzania. On our last day in Tungamalenga, Mama Neema, an evangelist who leads worship with exuberant singing and a powerful faith, handed me a plastic bag of groundnuts, and this drum. It was beautifully and simply carved, and the goat skin was nailed in by acacia tree needles. I love the patterns burnt in around the drum, and how it stands crooked, tilting its head.

Mama Neema doesn't speak English, and even through interpreters we hadn't said anything to each other besides hello, because we didn't have time to see her as often as other trips. I was very surprised and touched that she gave me a gift like that--and since I'm a musician it was very fitting.

Airport security doesn't like stories like these. We had to eat as many groundnuts as we could and then give them away to another friend while in Iringa, the city on the way to the airport. Riding on the bus I was very protective of my drum; it sat in a bag on the overhead shelf, and I glanced at it every few minutes.

When we got to the airport in Dar es Salaam, I looked inside it and found a spider.
Not an icky-furry-foreign spider--I don't think. It looked just like a daddy-long-legs. But my mom and I got a little nervous, wondering if this would slow us down getting past customs. We tried shaking the spider out, but it didn't work.
So, we get on the plane with no problem--the flight attendant actually wanted to play the drum--and I'm sitting there for 8 hours wondering if the altitude changes will split the skin of the drum, whether that spider is dangerous...and when can I get a shower? Things like that. Then we got to Amsterdam.

Waiting for our plane I thought about playing the drum and setting out a hat, but this crowd didn't look like they wanted to hear music, let alone throw money in a hat for it. We were all tired. Then when we started walking to get on the plane, an African woman asked, "Where did you get that drum?" We started chatting. Then an old man gave the drum a beat as we walked, smiling.

Leaving Amsterdam, I put my backpack and the drum through the security scanner, this young Dutch security officer says quite cheerfully, "Is this your drum?" "Yes." "Play something," he said. Airport security just scares me in general. Rapidly I thought, "If I don't play will they still let me on the plane? Is this a test?" I gave it a couple nervous beats. "Very nice," the officer said, still smiling. "You will drive everyone on the plane crazy!"

And I was free to go.

I never thought this gift from Mama Neema would lead me to have so many little interactions with people, literally from all over the globe, people who usually are just going through the grind of travel, trying to get to the next plane, screening the next passenger. It was a welcome sign of friendliness in this stressful place.
We landed in Detroit, and did security again, lugging all our baggage in this big cart. This security guy looked like we shouldn't mess with him, and he ordered us to go see another officer on the opposite end of the room, so that's what we did. "Oh this is cool!" He said, then he saw the spider. We asked what we could do about it. He shrugged. "Take it outside, shake it, when it comes out stomp on it."
And we were free to go.

We took the drum home and sprayed some deet in it. I played it, displayed it, and my drummer friends were jealous. Months later we assumed since nothing was crawling out of it that the spiders had died from the deet ambush. Then just this fall--a whole year later!--I see this funny stuff around the drum that looks like saw dust, about two inches of it. And little black larvae underneath it. Yuck yuck yuck. Out comes the vacuum, and out goes the drum, into the garage in a garbage bag. It's been sitting there all this winter, and we hope that the bugs have frozen to death. Has anybody else had something like this happen? You bring back the coolest conch shell and it's filled with sea urchins? Or a hat from Russia that gave you head lice?
I'm lucky that I have a biologist friend who loves this type of stuff and will take a look at it for me--I just want my drum back without having to worry about termites!

Away

Travel: How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year?

Last March I spent some fun days in Albuquerque at a conference but hardly saw the city beyond the conference center. Opportunity missed.

In August I spent three weeks in Tanzania, two of them with a group and the last week more on my own. Opportunity treasured.

In September, Bruce and I spent a few days driving down one side of the Mississippi River and up the other, exploring little towns, shops and wineries in Wisconsin and Minnesota. Opportunity for which we scrimped and saved.

Throughout the year there were short trips to visit family in New Ulm, Iowa, several parts of Wisconsin. Opportunities for which we are grateful.

Coming up next? 2011 looks to be a little more mundane on the travel front, sticking to car trips to visit family and to take kids to and from college. Even the annual music conference I attend is closer to home, in what feels like a ho-hum city, Milwaukee. I like Milwaukee fine, and I go for the conference and not the sightseeing, but it doesn't have quite the "ooh and ahh" factor of 2012's destination: New. York. City!!

But we're making one trip a priority for 2011: an anniversary trip for somewhere. Today Bruce and I are celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary and we had been planning to take a big trip somewhere together. But he's in a new job and has no vacation time to take until May. So we're planning to take a week or a little less at the end of May or early June, depending on my schedule.

Where? We're considering Charleston, unless it's too hot in June; Redwood National Forest; Vienna. Talk about diverse options!?! Time to do some research and thinking!

Travel bug

For as long as I can remember, our family has always gone on a trip for summer vacation. Nothing exotic (think Wisconsin on the lake, a cabin in the middle of the Rocky Mountains, Northern Minnesota), but a good time away. Every summer since 6th grade I've gone on some sort of service trip with my church: Rapid City, Quad Cities, then a big leap to Tanzania (though technically it wasn't a service trip...), then to Kentucky with Appalachian Service Project, Tanzania again (I know, awesome, right?), and Milwaukee with Habitat for Humanity. I'm going there again next summer (woot woot), but I'm getting the antsy travel bug now. My list of places to go keeps on getting bigger and bigger: Germany, the U.K., Scandinavia, Spain, Argentina, Canada, the Gulf Coast, the Boundary Waters (and every national park in the U.S.), France (not Paris), India, Iceland, New England and Australia.
It's kind of odd, because if you give me too much time to think, I'll be too afraid to get on a plane, as a fairly new driver I'd rather not be the one behind the wheel, and if you asked me where the money to fund it all would come from I would just stay home and watch "Globe Trekker" on PBS for the rest of my life. So what to do with this? (Suck it up) Yes, there's an idea.
If I went to some of these places, I'd want to see a bit of everything, of course. For example, if I went to England, yes, I'd go see a few things in London--the things you're "supposed" to see, but I'd want to take the road less traveled, not too much tourist stuff. I'd have to do some music geek stuff, but that's my only real requirement. Along with getting my picture taken at King's Cross Station between platforms 9 and 10. I'd also want to watch the Welsh language news because I can't understand how all those consonants can be pronounced. But that's it. Those are my only must-dos.
That's the fun thing about traveling, getting to see what real life is like in a place, hearing how people talk, and meeting those people. I think it would be really cool to go someplace with only the smallest inkling of what's supposed to happen when I get there.
I suppose my time to travel will come soon. It could happen!

Awaiting the return

My mom's coming back from Tanzania tomorrow!

After going there seven times, all of us at home have the While-Mom's-Away routine down. We still have a bit of cleaning to do, but otherwise we survived, just as she expected us to do. She will come home tired, in need of a shower, maybe a bit hungry, and oveflowing with stories to tell. I'll be listening and thinking about when I can make it back to TZ again...

*Cough* Ahem. Daydreaming a bit. Anyways.

These last couple of trips, all she's asked of us upon her return is to stand at the gate with her Grande Chai Latte with No Water from Starbucks.

My mom's only vice, or the main source of her boundless energy?

This year we'll be just as happy to oblige. We can't wait until she gets home!

Tanzania #7

Tomorrow I leave for my seventh trip to Tanzania. I'm excited. I'm traveling with a great group of guys--two my age and two teenagers--who will be my travel buddies. They're new to the Tanzanian experience, but they're all game and ready to take on the challenge of travel to a third world country.



For some reason, I've been thinking about travel companions of the past six trips. Companions really make or break the journey, you know. I'm so grateful to have had wonderful companions for many of my journeys.



There have been wonderful medical professionals who kept the members of the group healthy. First trip, a wonderful doctor who met us every morning for breakfast with the questions, "did you sleep well? do you have any diarrhea?"

There have been those whose expertise was in biology, who would spot wild animals, name trees, pick up tortoises and help the group appreciate and understand the environment of the savannah.

There have been teachers who provided encouragement and teaching tools to our partners, there have been business people who mentored our partners who are involved with microfinance, and there have been pastors who shared their experiences serving, nurturing and leading congregations.

There have been people with years of wisdom who become "bibi" and "babu" to our partners [grandmother and grandfather] and there have been youth who give our partners hope that this partnership will continue into another generation.

I have been blessed to share three of those seven trips with my two daughters.

For all these traveling companions, I am grateful.

Milwaukee

So, on the top of the screen it says that we mostly blog about music, our travels and wonderings.
I've talked about music and wonderings, but I don't really have too much traveling planned--no Africa this year.
Mom goes off to Tanzania for three weeks in August with a group from our church, and I will be keeping things together at home with my family. College hunting, of course, is my main priority right now, but at the same time I'm trying to manage those decisions in a way so that I won't go crazy.
I tell you, Dear Reader, it is impossible.

But I am getting excited for one brand new experience: Building a house in Milwaukee for Habitat for Humanity. On Sunday morning me and a bunch of other kids and adults from my church will wake up bright and early (well, more just early) and be on the road to Milwaukee at 5:30 AM. We're leaving at that insanely early hour to make it to a Brewers game at 1PM, so they better win.
We'll be framing a house in the city, with help from local volunteers, young AmeriCorps volunteers, and the future owners of the house. That's one of the cool things about this organization, that the family is expected to work a certain amount of hours to build their own house. Imagine the sense of accomplishment and pride they have to be living in a permanent home that they built with their own two hands.
None of us going have extensive construction skills; we can hammer, drill, measure, sand, paint and lift things, simple things, but that doesn't matter. We'll be learning a lot on the job, working hard, having fun, coming back tired in the evening, then doing it all over again. I'm excited to get to know my fellow travelers and also the people we'll work with in Milwaukee, excited to see this city, and to make myself useful, being one piece of the puzzle in helping a community.

We hope to be witnesses to amazing things during this next week, and I can't wait to find out what they'll be.

Pictures from the trip

Here are a few pictures taken on our trip to Tanzania. We've had some camera difficulties where most of the pictures taken in Tungamalenga have strange color tints, but we have a photoshop expert on the case. Here are a few that turned out well from the end of the trip:

On our last day in Tungamalenga, Mom and I went exploring around the village while we waited for our friends to return from safari. You'll find many places to get your hair cut or braided, like the Francis Hair Cutting Saloon.

You'll also see lizards scuttling around. Aren't they cool?

When our group returned from safari, there was a send-off service for us at the church, and we had to say good bye to our friends. Here we are under the mbuyu, or baobab tree, with Barabeig evangelist Alex, his wife and their three children, right before we had to leave.

When I got on the bus, Alex's daughter told me through the open window, "Tutaonana tena, Mungu akipenda."

We will meet each other again, if God wishes it.

I sure hope so.

When we got back to Iringa about five hours later, we managed to get in touch with some university students sponsored by Shepherd of the Valley. This is Grace, whose mother Neema is a student at Tumaini University in Iringa.

Grace had been covering her eyes and being shy, but all of a sudden she popped up and gave this big smile, and she warmed right up to us.

Mom toured the Ilula Hospital (in the town of the same name, east of Iringa), where many of the patients are women and their newborns. This woman just had twins.

A stove for cooking at the guest house in Ilula, the morning we left for the airport to return home.

My Day Not On Safari: Part IV

Sometime in the afternoon, we took off in the landrover again with the same people, but minus Alex and plus Barnabas. We went to Mapogoro, the next village over, to visit the Mtwavila family , who's daughter was also sponsored by my church to attend Idodi, and died in the fire. This family was of the Hehe tribe, I think, and lived in a very nice brick and cement house. We met the father and adult brother, and three women, one of whom was a sister. We all sat in a livingroom-type area on cushioned chairs, and Jacob, the evangelist for Mapogoro, led us in a hymn from the Mwimbieni Bwana, their Lutheran hymnal. Mom gave them words of comfort, a gift of t-shirts, and a necklace for the sister. It's hard for me to think that these two girls had survived all the more common causes of death in Tanzania--malaria, AIDS, bad water etc.--and had gone to school, a place of hope and opportunity, but that is where their lives tragically ended. The only thing we can do, though, is to move forward with them in mind so that we can change things for the better.

This visit was interesting because it was so different from the last. I saw the father wipe a tear away from his eye, but other that, it looked to me like they were in the acceptance process. They were solemn. I wonder how the grieving process varies from tribe to tribe, between women, me, and children. How are they expected to act? A question for my next trip. There were prayers, Mungu akubariki's (God bless you), and pole sana's (very sorry). The brother invited us to his duka, shop, for drinks, so we headed for what I guess you could call downtown Mapogoro. We all sat outside the store in plastic chairs drinking Pepsi and Mirinda and Coke, and the atmosphere seemed to change 360 degrees. We were talking, joking and laughing. I sat and listened, and wondered if we were acting appropriately. I quietly asked Mom, and she gave me the I-don't-know-what-to-tell-ya shrug. "It did kind of happen already," she said. Okaaay. So I just went with it. Next door to us was a bar, and it sounded as if someone was watching a sci-fi movie like Star Trek at very high volume. There were booms and bangs and it was kinda strange. Alex arrived on his bike and approached our group. "Get your book out, Mom, quick!" I whispered. She did, and greeted him with her newly-learned Barabeig word that she read from her notebook. Alex giggles and shakes her hand. Mom is a bit confused now, because on our return she looked at her notebook from her previous trip and found the Barabeig words she learned then. Her last trip, aguna maida bash bakhoda meant good afternoon. This time, we were told praise the Lord. Did something get lost in translation, you think? I love language.

We stayed at the shop for maybe half an hour, then we headed back to Tungamalenga Camp in the good old landrover. We all got back, sat down under the mango tree and talked until dark (and dark in Tanzania is dark). Then we said goodnight to them all, went to have our dinner, and just crashed in our rooms after the long, but very good day. I really enjoyed being there when nothing was really set to happen, we could just wander along at our own pace, and see people living their real lives, not trying to make everything perfect for the wazungu (white people). I feel very grateful for the experiences and memories I have been given by this day in Tungamalenga: sad ones, and happy ones, discouraging ones, and yet hopeful ones. It is something I will not forget.

My Day Not On Safari: Part III

We drove to Isanga, another preaching point nearby. Isanga is a mix of Hehe, Bena and Masai tribes, and the chapel they worship in is just a bit bigger than my bedroom (i.e., not very big at all). There were five girls there who were afraid to go back to Idodi Secondary School after the fire. That disaster had to happen when students were preparing to take their national exams. After the fire the school was closed for three weeks and students were sent back home. But there was hope at Isanga, too. We saw the piles of bricks they planned to use to build a house for the evangelist there, which is something of great need. We didn't stay too long there, but we sang, we prayed, gave gifts and recieved gifts. The whole trip seems to be one big act of humbly accepting gifts from our Tanzanian partners, whether they are tangible gifts or not.

After that we drove back to Tungamalenga for lunch at the parish hall. Alice, a primary school teacher who also helped prepare lunch, asked me, "Emmy, how many Swahili words did you learn today?" I confessed I hadn't practiced during our drive. The only person I wasn't afraid to make linguistic mistakes in front of was our translator, who was asleep most of the ride. Alice and I always practiced though. I felt kind of proud because when people would be talking in Swahili, I would sometimes understand the gist of the conversation, not just a few random words. Progress!

After we ate, Mom and I learned another language. We already knew basic greetings in Swahili, Masai and Hehe, and now it was time for Barabeig. One of our traveling companions was a young evangelist named Alex, a member of the Barabeig tribe. He came over to our table and at Mom's request taught us a few words in the language. I can't even explain how hilarious our lesson was. Alex only speaks Barabeig and Swahili, and Pastor Paulo next to us only Masai and Swahili, so we enlisted the help of Alice's husband Barnabas, clinical officer of the village dispensary, who was on the other side of the room, to translate for us. Here's how the conversation went: Alex would say a phrase (aguna maida bash bakhoda), Mom would say, "What? Say it again?" Alex wouldn't understand, Barnabas would repeat her question in Swahili, then Alex would say it again slower (a-gu-na ma-i-da bash ba-kho-da), Mom and I would say it back again (aguna maida bash...?), he'd correct us, Mom would exclaim, "Ooh, let me write this down!" and Pastor Paulo and I would look at each other, laughing and laughing. Repeat all this for maybe 20 minutes (with different Barabeig words of course), and you have one of my highlights of the trip. Alex was so nice and patient with us, too, firmly shaking our hands when we said something right. As a matter of fact, he seemed in slight disbelief that we were trying at all. It's nice to find out that language can be a bridge and not a barrier.

Em:My Day Not On Safari, Part II

Picking up from where I left off:

The sympathy was for the friends and family of Chake Kuyaa, a young student sponsored by my church who died in the Idodi Secondary School fire on month ago, with 11 other girls. There wasn't much we could do at all except offer our condolences and our prayers.

At certain points we would have a 3-language translation going, with Petro speaking in Kimasai, Pastor Paulo translating to Kiswahili, then our translator Mfaume ending in English. After the formal speech making, the women, who had been cooking something a little ways away, served us all groundnuts, goat meat, and pop. The meat was good, kind of greasy and tender, but I never knew which part I was supposed to eat or not. The meal was even better washed down with a pop called Mirinda Mango. Everybody ate with us, though I felt bad only Mom, Mfaume, Pastor Paulo and myself were sitting on stools and chairs. Everyone else sat on the ground , kneeled or stayed standing. On the other hand, if I just sat with them, I'd be disrespecting their hospitality. Hosts and guests each have their own role to play. People sang while we ate.

Afterwards Mom, the rest of the landrover group and I walked a short distance to the house of Chake's mother. We were going to make a "consolation visit."

Now, Masai houses are very different, even from other African houses. They are called bomas, and the one we were in was made of sticks and a thatch roof. It was held up by thick tree limbs, had two rooms, dirt floors and was about four or five feet tall. There were threee women inside sitting on a cow skin, Mama Chake in the middle and two old women on either side. Two calves stood in the corner. Mom and Mfaume took two wooden stools while I sat beside the women on the cow skin, and the others stood. Mama Chake looked so devastated and lethargic, as if her daughter had died last week instead of last month. She said that her husband was very old and that since the fire he's been living with a relative because she didn't have the energy to care for him. My mom spoke with her, held her hand and hugged her. I was glad that she could always think of fitting things to say for that moment, and that it was her job to represent our group as a whole. I would not have been able to find any words to comfort Mama Chake. Mom also gave her a card that had been signed by many people at church who had heard about the fire (along with a bit of money) and a card from Chake's sponsors. Mama Chake had been sniffling the whole time, but now she just broke down and cried, and Mom hugged her. Pastor Paulo led us in a prayer. During the prayer, to my astonishment, the calf in the corner started peeing. You could have knocked me over with a feather. All I could think was OH MY GOD! That calf was so close to the women, too. One of them kind of swatted her hand at it, but other than that no one reacted. A holy moment interrupted by life. After that we ended our visit, maybe 20 minutes, and said our good byes, shook hands, and then continued back to the area we had gathered at before. As we neared our vehicle, Mom discussed something with our group. She wanted to give a gift of money for their chapel construction in honor of Chake. It felt like the only thing of use we could do. The people were grateful for that. You may think that worshipping under a tree (like we were) is romantic and liken it to Abraham's time, but to construct an actual building for that purpose sends out the message that the Masai are serious, and they are here to stay. The people were grateful for it, and I cannot wait to see the chapel when it's finished.

Em: My Day Not On Safari, part 1

On Wednesday, our penultimate day in Tungamalenga, three members of our group got up bright and early to go to Ruaha National Park for a day-and-a-half safari. My mom and I stayed in the village while they were gone. Mom had done that twice before and loved "kuzunguka zunguka-ing," walking circles around Tunga, meeting people in a much more informal manner, and having freetime for long and contructive conversations. I did it with her because: You've seen one giraffe, you've seen them all, I saved a small amount of money by staying, and I liked the idea of "kuzunguka zunguka-ing" too. I wanted to spend more time with the people I'd met before time ran out.

After the three left, the landrover Mom had hired arrived. We were going to the Masai village of Mahove, and with us came our driver Titus, associate Mchungaji Paulo (the first ordained Masai pastor in the diocese), five evangelists and partnership committee members, and our translator Mfaume, a soon-to-be university graduate. Ten of us fit in the seven-seater, with Mom and I sharing the front passenger seat, and we were soon on our bumpy way to Mahove. It took perhaps 20 minutes, where we went through several villages, and then through a rough path in the Tanzanian bush. We didn't have a clue how Titus knew his way, when there was hardly a road to follow. I imagined the directions sounding like, "Turn left at the tree. No--the other tree. Yeah, that one. Then, see that bush? The little one with the pointy needles?" It all looked the same to me.

We were nearing our destination when we stopped. Blocking our was was a large bundle of sticks, a woman's kitenge cloth, and a pair of shoes. Titus called out something to the trees in Swahili once, then twice. The second time, people slowly started appearing from behind the trees, they gathered their things and we continued driving. Titus laughed and told us, "They thought we were soldiers." I found out that Mahove is part of a reserve, therefore it's illegal to cut the trees for firewood, which they need to cook their food. Mahove doesn't have easy access to water either, and it's a long walk to get it. The government told the Masai, traditionally a nomadic herding people, to settle in this one place, far from these necessities, and isolated from other villages and people. I have no idea why they were put there.

Shortly afterwards, we arrived at the preaching point and we popped out of the landrover. We were greeted by evangelist Azuberi Mhema and people of the congregation. They showed us to some small wooden chairs on a tarp, and we were mercifully shaded by another tarp hung from two trees. Azuberi and Petro, the other evangelist who is Masai, led the people in songs you can't help but clap to. Azuberi read a report, telling us there are 106 church members, 51 of whom are adults. Their main goals are to build an actual chapel--presently they worship outside--and they're in the process of organizing to buy cement and collect the bricks. And of course they asked for help to build a well. This was the second time a group from my church had visited Mahove. Mchungaji Paulo got up and read a verse from Colossions in Kihehe, a very different tribal language from his own. People were impressed and entertained by that.

After that, Mom got up to say words of thanks and sympathy. The thanks was for welcoming us so graciously, and for working hard to build a chapel.

Tanzania: October 16

Our group has returned to Iringa after six wonderful days in Tungamalenga! We are all doing well and in good spirits. We have enjoyed wonderful hospitality, laughter and tears, dancing, Swahili lessons, and more joyful dancing.Our partnership is going well.

Major progress was made in completing the interior of the Tungamalenga Chapel and altar area; a new chapel at Mpalapande that was just a foundation in January now has complete walls and roof! Several other village congregations have begun to make bricks and gather foundation stones for their own planned chapels.

At the dispensary, Dr. Barnabas is in negotiations with the district medical officer to establish a maternal child health clinic--this would provide well child visits, prenatal visits, and vaccinations with the costs supported by government funding. He is also in the process of getting the dispensary approved for the Community Health Fund (sort of like universal health coverage, which is affordable for Tanzanian families and services are reimbursed by the government). If all this planning goes well, there will be many patients at the clinic.

We are meeting scholarship students everywhere we go, and collecting letters for sponsors. The thanks we receive for scholarship support is overwhelming. We are always reminding people here that it is not just those of us they see who provide scholarships, but the many families at home at SOTV, and we will take them our thanks.

We had a very moving day at Idodi Secondary School. To see the burned dormitory, now being readied for rebuilding, to see the bathroom window through which some girls escaped with help from those outside, and then to walk up the hill to an enclosure where twelve graves are mounded and covered with wreaths of flowers, marked only by numbers one through twelve---I have no words for the sorrow we feel. As we visited several village congregations, we also met students from Idodi who were afraid to go back to school, and parents who were afraid to send them. Please continue to pray for all those affected by the fire.

While the rest of the group went on safari to Ruaha National Park, hosting Pastor Naftal and his wife, Emily and Kirsten remained in the village for a few more visits. We made two "consolation visits" to the families of Chake Kuyaa and Elisi Mtwavila, two students sponsored by SOTV who died in the fire. At a Maasai village, we met the mother of Chake. She is desolate. At Mapogoro, we met the father, brother and sister of Elisi. We prayed, cried, and prayed again. We have a new understanding of the phrase, "the consolation of the saints."

Tomorrow is the graduation of Mfaume Kisakanike at Tumaini University. We are so excited to spend this day with him. The assistant bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania is here for the occasion. (The really big potato, as they say here.) Then Sunday we will worship at Ilula, tour the hospital, have dinner with Dr. Saga, and drive part way to Dar. On Monday, we drive the rest of the way to Dar and fly home, arriving Tuesday afternoon if all goes well and we don't miss any connections.

Thank you for your prayers and your support of this partnership. We are learning every day what an amazing impact we are having among our partners, and how grateful they are for our partnership.See you soon!

Tanzania: October 9

We have arrived safely in Tanzania after our long air flights and an even longer than usual bus ride from Dar es Salaam to Iringa. We were driving in tandem with another vehicle yesterday, that vehicle had a breakdown, we spent a few extra hours going for the needed part and repairing the vehicle, and finally arrived at the Lutheran Center after 13 hours on the road. It was a good day! We really enjoyed seeing the variety of terrain as we crossed from the tropical coastal area, across the savannah and then into the highlands. As we drove through Mikumi Game Park we saw our first giraffes, impala, zebra, elephant, and baboons.

We traveled with a group from Arlington Hills Lutheran in St Paul, and with old friends, the Rev. Tom and Beth Hansen who are coming to staff the Bega Kwa Bega office for the next two months, and with Rev. Lamont Koerner, who will be teaching New Testament courses at Tumaini University this semester.

Today we visited the office of the Iringa Diocese of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania and were greeted by old friends, Dean Gavile and General Secretary Nayman Chavalla. Bishop Mdegella is in Rome this month, attending meetings of the World Council of Churches. We also got our newcomers acclimated to the Iringa market, visited the Neema (Grace) Craft Workshop, which employs people with disabilities. We purchased medicines for the dispensary with the help of Dr. Saga from Ilula Hospital, and we were joined by Pastor Naftal Ng'amillo from Tungamalenga as we went about our meetings and errands.

This afternoon's highlight was a visit to Huruma Orphanage, where we played with the children, delivered gifts for Christmas, and learned that the cows we have sent are providing milk for the children at every meal. We also received updates about the four students sponsored by SOTV from this orphanage. Three are attending school in Iringa while living at the orphanage, and all three are doing well. The fourth, Christian, was accepted at a school for especially talented students in Dar es Salaam, and Mama Chilewe tells us he is doing very very well there. There are seven more children from Huruma who will be ready for secondary school in January 2010, and we will be seeking sponsors from SOTV to help support their education.

Tomorrow we will purchase four bicycles and then be on our way to Tungamalenga for the coming week. Barnabas Kahwage has been attending a medical seminar and will be meeting us for the ride back to Tungamalenga.

Today we have had just a taste of the warm hospitality of our Tanzanian friends, and have heard from those at the diocese how much they appreciate the support that SOTV provides through this partnership. I'm sure we will experience even more of that as we go to Tungamalenga to be among our closest friends.

Miss you all, wish you could all experience the wonders and joy we are experiencing here! We are so grateful for your prayers, for our safety and well being, and for the work we do here with our partners.Mungu akubariki! God bless you!

Make me an instrument of thy peace

One of my favorite prayers....the prayer of St Francis of Assisi.

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace,

Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is sadness, joy; where there is darkness, light.

O divine master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console; not so much to be understood, as to understand; not so much to be loved, as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.

Tomorrow Em and I are traveling to Tanzania, my sixth trip and her second. This prayer, and a little book of meditations based on it by South African writer Alan Paton, will be daily devotional material for our traveling group.

When we travel to a new place, especially a place as far away in terms of distance, culture, comfort, and values as Tanzania is from suburban USA, it can be hard to step outside our bubble of self awareness. When we're struggling with basic comfort--toilets, bottled water, crowded buses, 4 inch foam mattresses, food that is new, language differences, cultural gaps--it's hard to get to the point where every experience is NOT "all about me." It can be hard to realize that the plumbing is not a personal affront. It can be hard to get past the feeling of how "heroic" we are to simply be there, and get to the point where we can really experience being there.

I'm in my comfort zone in the village. My wardrobe fits in a carry on bag, two skirts and a half dozen t-shirts. Hiking boots to protect my weak ankle. Every morning, a shower, sometimes warm. Lots of Purel in my pack.

As I walk through the village, children shout "Mzungu!" ("white person!") I've been there often enough that some shout "Mama Kirsten" or "Mama Christian."

It would be easy to get a big head, to think that we are somehow bringing the kingdom to these people.

But no. God was here long before we came for a visit. God has been here blessing this community with a deep love, with broad connectedness, with deep compassion. What we found when we first visited was a joy that defied the poverty, a hope that defied the hopelessness, and a compassion in community that we americans envy.

The little bit of good that we do--bringing medicines for the dispensary, bringing scholarships for secondary and university students, funding the micro loans and agricultural projects that bring a small bit of economic development--seems like a drop in the bucket of the great needs that exist here. We are simply instruments, simply hands and feet participating in the ongoing work of God.