"Bottoms Up" or "Thar She Blows!"

So here's the deal. I've been in Tanzania for over a month now. We've had many groups come and go during that time. Every one of them has had one or more people get sick while they're here. We console them, tell them they'll feel better soon and then go on our way and do our thing.

A new group from Christ the King Lutheran in New Brighton came in on Monday night. They came about 45 minutes before the evening meal, so we all gathered in the lobby of the Lutheran Center to get acquainted. While visiting with one lady, I bragged that I hadn't been sick a single day since coming.

No sooner had the words come out of my mouth, then I was feeling a bit dizzy. I thought that maybe my contact lens had been in too long that day, so I went home to put glasses on. I only felt worse. I begged off from dinner that night and went to bed.

The next morning, I thought I felt better so I went about my normal day's schedule, ate regular meals, but still felt a little dull. I was hoping against hope that whatever was getting me down wasn't malaria. Gary and I had chased a few mosquitoes around our apartment for a few days. I selfishly hoped they bit him and not me.

This morning I awoke and felt like someone had beat me up while I slept. My knees ached, my head hurt and my stomach was feeling off. "Mind over matter," I thought. That is until Mt. St. Helens erupted. I was very impressed with the force and velocity for such a little guy! I was much less impressed with the accuracy.

So, I took Cipro, the wonder drug and I'm laying low for the day.

The good news is that today is a real boost to my goal of losing 15 pounds while I'm here. The other good news is that I'm quite sure I don't have malaria.

Ordination Sunday

Shortly after our arrival in Iringa, we were told that on January 27, the Iringa Diocese would be conducting a service of ordination for its newest pastors. From the outset, we looked forward to this event as a real celebration of the church. It did not disappoint.

Four new pastors were to be ordained in the village of Pomern, about an hour and a half's trip from Iringa. In order to be ordained, these students must finish a course in theology at an accepted seminary (most were Tumaini University graduates) and successfully complete a six month probation period where they were working in a congregation and being observed.

Africa time and American time are two different things. So you can imagine our surprise when we arrived for the service one half hour before it was to begin and the clergy were already vested and lining up. Three choirs lined the driveway and were already singing. Sort of a battle of the church choirs. Probably 75 of the almost 110 pastors from the Iringa Diocese were participating in the worship.

It was clear from the outset that this was the bishop's show. From the organization of the long procession to the final prayer around a huge African tree, the bishop directed everything. And he directed it with flair and style. There was no need for a bulletin for worship. The bishop would point to a choir and say, "sing a song." He would announce to the congregation, "sing hymn number xxx." They sang. He would call out members of the clergy to help with different parts of the service without any advance warning. He even called me out to help serve communion to the pastors. It was an honor.

The bishop took the announcement time to announce some new positions. A man who had been the headmaster of a secondary school was introduced as the new superintendent of all seven secondary schools, a new position. I was then called forward, in front of the congregation and Bishop Mdegalla announced that I was going to teach all the pastors how to do planning. And he also announced that I was going to train the new superintendent of schools in his job. That was news to me! Happy to do it.

The service was shorter than last year. It only took four and a half hours compared to five last year. As guests of honor, the five pastors from America were ushered to seats in the very front of the church, looking out over the congregation. What a view! It was a marvelous day.

We saw a new twist on the auction of produce given during the offering. After the service we gathered in a circle outside the church. Since there was so much, the bishop called out a person's name, told that person what the item was and what they were expected to pay. That's power. It did go a lot faster that way, though.

After a some singing, a recessional march by the participants and a closing prayer, we adjourned for lunch at about 3:00.

A service like this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I am blessed to be invited and to participate in such a glorious event.

Transportation in Tanzania

Getting around Tanzania can be a real adventure. Never does a car leave the apartment complex with only one person in it. There are very few cars, so always there is someone needing a ride in the direction the car is going. But there are many ways to get around Tanzania.

The roads are busy, even if few people own cars. The most common forms of transportation are on foot, by bicycle, on a motorbike, in a car, by Landrover, using a dala dala (a small van that seats as many people as they can shove onto it) or by bus. Everyone shares the same road, whether paved or dirt. But there is a pecking order for who has the right of way.

Near as I can tell, the rule is, the fastest modes of transportation have the right of way. So everyone moves out of the way for anything with four wheels or more and an engine. Next comes anything with two wheels and an engine. Next comes anything with two wheels. Finally comes critters with two or more legs.

Pedestrians do not have the right of way. If a person is on the road and a car is coming at full speed, it's up to the pedestrian to move out of the way. The car will honk, but rarely slow down. The same is true for bicycles and animals. The only exception that I've seen so far is a herd of cows and goats. Vehicles slow down for them until their herder can clear them from the road.

It seems that bicycles are a force in commerce here. It's amazing to see what they put on those two-wheelers. I've seen such things as four people; two cases of soda; two four-foot tall bags of homemade charcoal; piles of lumber, some as long as 10 feet; eight crates of eggs; and sometimes there's even one person riding a bike! Usually, the bicycles are so heavy with their produce that the person is pushing it instead of riding it.

The roads are iffy at best. There are paved highways that aren't too bad. They are still lined with people, bikes, etc., but one can make pretty good time on them. The back roads can range from well-groomed dirt to little more than a goat path. To drive the backroads, it's best to have a four-wheel drive vehicle. Even then, it's not unheard of to get stuck. This is the rainy season, so the potholes are filled with water and soft on the bottom. There are good drivers here, so usually they make it through the tough spots without trouble.

We're on the go all the time. I haven't gotten stuck, yet, but look forward to the day. Until then, I'll just be a good passenger and leave the driving to the experts.

Another Sunday in Iringa

This is the third Sunday I've been in Iringa and the third time I'm writing about Sunday worship. As you might guess, Sunday is a highlight of the week. This week I traveled with Gary Langness to Ipogoro Lutheran Church, fifteen minutes outside of Iringa. This congregation was the first one to partner with a congregation in the St. Paul Area Synod. They partnered with Augustana Lutheran in West Saint Paul when Gary was senior pastor there. He has preached there fourteen times. There are now sixty-six congregations partnering both in the Iringa Diocese and the St. Paul Area Synod.

I think I helped gender equality at Ipogoro. I was to sit up front with the other pastors during worship. As we processed down the aisle, I noticed that there were only three chairs and four of us. I was the only one not leading worship, so I nodded to the pastor that I would slip into the front row. It wasn't until about a third of the way through the service when I noticed all the voices behind me were female voices. You guessed it. I sat on the women's side of the church. Now, as only one of two whites guys in church that morning, I stuck out as it was. Now I was downright conspicuous. Suddenly, a chair appeared from the back of the church and was planted up front with the other three. I was waved forward, asked to introduce myself, and take the new seat. Saved by the pastor!

The first service began at 7:00 a.m. That's in the morning. The church was packed. Same was true last Sunday. During my introduction, I told them that people from Minnesota wouldn't believe the church was full of singing, dancing people at 7:00 in the morning. So I took their picture.

During the two hour service, the confession and forgiveness comes about 30 minutes in. The doors are closed during confession. All latecomers must stay outside the church until confession and forgiveness are finished. When the doors opened, a whole busload of people came in. I guess they're on their own for confession this week.

Oh, and I now know where Lutherans got the idea that the back pews are the best in church. In Tanzania, those who sit in the back are ushered out first after the service. At Ipogoro, only the back half of the church pews had backs on them. The front half was just benches.

There were no screens on the windows at Ipogoro. Throughout the service, several birds flew in and out. During quiet moments when no one else was singing, the birds added their songs to worship. All creation sings praise to God.

One last thing. As the second service was to begin, Pastor Abbas, Pastor Gary, Pastor Benson and I gathered to walk into church from the back. As we stepped out of the office in an adjoining building, there were two lines of people formed in front of us. The choir. They led us singing and dancing (at least they were dancing!) through the parking lot, into the back doors of the church and down the aisle. When the service was finished, they did the same in reverse. They led us singing and dancing down the aisle, out the door, across the parking lot and into the pastor's office. Cool!

I tried uploading pictures from today's worship, but to no avail. You'll have to supply your own images.

You Know You're in Tanzania When...

Last night we were invited to dinner at the home of Immanuel and Momma Machanga. He's the contractor who has built the buildings on the Tumaini University campus. He's 72 years old, been married for 51 years and has 9 children, not all living. His home was filled with a couple of children, several grandchildren, Momma's mother (over 90 years old) and a neighbor who is Maasai.

Of all the interesting conversations I've been in since coming here, his is one of the most interesting. As Immanuel translated, this Maasai man told us he is 62 years old. He has five wives and 30 children. His oldest child is 34 years old and the youngest is 2 months. When we asked him if he could name all his children, he paused, took out his cell phone and called his youngest wife. "What's the name of our newest child?" he asked. He hung up, smiled, and told us the name. Imagine as a parent, trying to get one of your children's attention and running through 30 names before finding the right one.

He owns 500 head of cattle. When fattened for market, they will fetch about $1,500 each. They graze throughout the countryside. Masai, you know, believe all cattle belong to them. They graze them wherever they find grass. But this Masai man was also a good business man. To avoid the possibility of disease wiping out his herd, he divided them into smaller groups and grazes them in different parts of the country. Some of his sons tend the herds. He's thinking of selling his cattle and investing in land and buildings. His fellow Masai don't like to hear that.

He's told his sons, "Marry only one wife! More than one wife is too expensive." With a twinkle in his eye he added, "If I had only one wife, even she could own a car."

One of this man's sons is a theology student at Tumaini University. He's in a program called "The Wandering Shepherds Program." He will be ordained to follow the nomadic Masai tribes around to preach and teach about Jesus Christ. I don't know whether this Masai man is Christian (though he prayed with us that evening), but he is very proud of his son who will be ordained a Christian pastor.

Dirty Knees

This morning I attended two separate churches in Iringa - the Kihesa church and the Cathedral church. Both are large churches with straight-backed wooden pews neatly lining the sanctuary, but too close together for an overweight Minnesotan. As you shuffle into the pew, you step on the two-by-four wooden kneelers, barely lifted above the tiled floor. Everyone entering the pew slides their shoes across those kneelers.

Shoes scruff up the kneelers, depositing the remnants of weekly journeys. Journeys through the red soil of Africa. Telltale signs of manure from the livestock. Deposits from the market streets and shops in Iringa. Dust from homes and roadsides and the shuffling up the hill to church. As we walk across those kneelers into the pew, the busyness of our week is ground into the wood.

And then it's time for confession. We kneel, our knees firmly planted in the grime from our shoes, the grime from our lives, and we ask God to forgive us. With dirty knees, stained by the journeys of our week, we together cry to God for help, for a new start, for a clean slate.

The pastor proclaims words of forgiveness from God. All is forgiven. All is forgotten. We rise, dust the dirt from our knees and leave renewed.

The First Full Week

Everything moves slowly in Tanzania. Patience will either become a byproduct of my visit or I'll end up in a nut house. I know my family is hoping for the former, realizing I often live life closer to the latter.

For instance, it took ten days to get internet hooked up to my computer. The computer company doesn't say they'll be at your home between 1:00 and 4:00 on Tuesday. You have to go to their office - I did that three times. The owner was in Dar es Salaam and would be coming back sometime. He's the only one with the codes to hook someone up. That's OK, I can wait. Finally he comes back. It took three visits to my computer to finally get everything to work. Hallelujah!

Now, as I use the computer, I discover that the old 56K modems were a luxury. Lightening speed. It took three hours to write a new blog entry. I tried to add a picture, waited 15 minutes for it to upload, only to find out that service was interrupted during the transmission and I have to start all over. So here I am.

When it comes to moving slowly, I could talk about the traffic (surrounded by people and bicycles), banking (a simple transaction takes two hours), eating out (plan on at least an hour and a half to get your food), getting a task done uninterrupted (good luck - there are always people walking in and out of the apartment), or getting our new apartment painted (the painter has been at it for two weeks and everyday says, "one more day." He's still there).

But there are also positives to moving slowly. I've gotten to know some tremendous people. Every time you meet someone, you always take time to greet each other and visit a bit. Every afternoon at 4:30 or so, regardless of how hectic the day has been, the four of us who live together (Don and Eunice Fultz, Gary Langness and me) grab a beverage of choice, take a chair and visit.

Mealtime is outstanding. We often eat with the groups visiting from Minnesota. There have been three groups here so far. We visit about each other's day, learn about our lives and laugh a lot. Conversations are comfortable, never rushed and very enjoyable.

In this first week I've visited five churches, met tons of pastors, been on the campus of Tumaini University several times, visited a Lutheran hospital, orphanage and secondary school. I've spent time in the town market, run lots of errands, cooked breakfast with Eunice for several groups and gotten acquainted around Iringa. I've even begun to work on the strategic plan written by Tumaini University, one of my main reasons for being here. Even though the pace is slow to get things done, everyday brings progress.

So, it's been a good first week. Every day is new and different. There's so much more to see and do. I feel like I'm settling in a bit, and trying to stay focused on my work with planning and administration.

I'll try to add pictures to a later post. Four hours on this post is enough.