March 2008 Newsletter

March newsletter

The last few weeks have been filled with heaviness. The
volatile situation in Kenya and the worries for our many
friends there; Ellen’s experience at the beach (story below);
and some sad and shocking events in the local Christian
community here in Dar. Part of us and maybe a few of you
are wondering why on earth we would choose to stay in
such a place!?! We don’t have a great answer to give other
than we know it is the right thing to do. We don’t know
what the Lord has in store for us here, but we know we are
not finished. We thank you all for your love and support of
us, for without you we would not have made it this far!
Please continue to pray for the Lord’s guidance in each of
our lives here. For this newsletter we have decided to let
the stories speak to our activities rather than providing a
general timeline narrative.
God’s Mercies: Saving a Life – Ellen
I work at the school three days a week, and today is one of
my days off. Today’s plans: meet with a friend in the
morning, maybe run some errands in the afternoon, and
DEFINITELY get a nap in before I pick up the kids from
school at 2. I think I provide God endless amusement. I
know He laughs when I make plans since He is able to see
what will really happen. I, on the other hand, have no clue
whatsoever and just go about my business like I am in
control.
I did get the chance to chat with my friend for awhile.
After she left, it was still early and below 100 degrees, so
I thought I’d take the dogs to the beach to run a bit. Bilali
(our gardener) and I pile the 3 big dogs into the car and set
out. We arrive at the beach and there is a sense of unrest. I
hear a dog barking off to the left, which is unusual, and see
some people standing and looking out to the water. As Bilali
and I reach the crest of the dune, I see the source of the
unrest. A group of dogs is mauling a man in the water!
Without thinking, I hand my leash to Bilali and run as fast
as I can to the ugly scene. No one else was within 100 feet
of this poor man and dogs. The Tanzanian fear of dogs is
primal, running deep in their souls. The absurdity of the
scene in hindsight is almost humorous, if not for the man’s
misfortune. Little 100# me, running straight for a pack of
9 dogs while many burly men stood off in the distance
watching. As I got close to the man, I could see he was
entangled in one of the dogs’ chains. I began shouting at
the dogs and getting them off, and for whatever reason, they
listened to me. I hesitate to think that my doggie “No”
voice is really that intimidating. All the other dogs backed
off except the one that was entangled. He was the biggest
and looked upset and maybe a bit scared. The man was
bleeding from every part of his body. His ear was mostly
torn off and his eyes were unable to open. His one arm was
bleeding heavily, even his privates were bleeding! I
managed to roll the guy over a bit, out of the water and out
of the chain. Still none of those guys would help. Bilali
was frantically trying to tie up my 3 dogs and come to help
me. I had to hold the big dog off, but I knew I needed to
tend the man’s wounds. I ran with the dog up to the nearest
house while also yelling at the other dogs to back off. They
at least seemed to follow the one on the chain and did not
return to harass the injured man. I tied the dog to a fence
post and ran back to the man. I was trying to use my dress
to mop up the dripping blood and sand from his arm and
pinpoint the source of the bleeding. Bilali came and others
followed. I asked Bilali for his shirt so I could tie up the
wound on the man’s arm. Using my dress, I covered his
mutilated ear which was the next worst bleed. I cradled his
head in my hands and I prayed aloud for him. I laid my
head on his and begged for God’s help. I asked about a
doctor and one of the guys said he called someone and that
help was coming. Having lived in this country for 2½
years, I knew that this means absolutely nothing. Someone
had the good idea to move the guy off the beach and out of
the sun. About six guys started to carry him. I went into
the ocean, dress and all to wash off all the blood from my
arms, legs, face, and clothes. As the group got close to the
one house, the dogs attacked again and the men dropped the
wounded man on the ground and were ready to flee. I was
able to get there quick enough to yell and the dogs backed
off. As the group set the man down near the house, I
remembered that I know a family nearby. I ran and banged
on their gate, and Jon, (a pilot) was dressed for work. I
didn’t even say hello, I just sort of spewed out a plea for
help, asking if he could take this guy to the hospital.
Thankfully, he was willing. As the group loaded the man
into Jon’s car, I went back to the beach to wash off, get my
shoes and dogs. As Bilali and I headed back to the car,
people were saying thank you. I didn’t want to hear it. I was
angry. One man even tried to say that they were unable to
help because they are poor and don’t have things. At the
time, I wanted to spit out to him….”you have arms and
legs, don’t you?” In hindsight, I am so glad I didn’t. Bilali
tried to explain to me that people are afraid to get a dog
bite, which has caused many people here to die. It makes
sense…infection sets in, etc, etc. Me, being the wealthy
mzungu (white person), I know that if I get bitten, I can
afford the good health care to become well again. Also,
injury and death are a part of everyday life here. Most
people look out for their own daily survival. I will never
truly understand how lucky I am to be born a middle class
American. I guess I need to be reminded time and time
again.
After Bilali and I got our dogs home, we went to the
hospital to check on him. The man’s name is Bakari. We
could hear his cries of pain from the lobby. I kept thinking
how scared he must have been and how miserable he must
feel. After about a half an hour, he was wheeled out, and
put into a taxi for transfer. His head, ear and eye was
heavily bandaged, along with his arm and one of his legs.
He was dripping blood and I wondered why he looked to be
in worse shape than when I last saw him 30 minutes prior.
Evidently there was no doctor at the first hospital and he
was headed for another hospital for intensive care.
The next few days Bakari was constantly on my mind.
I needed to know how he was doing. Tuesday was my day
off so Keith drove Bilali and me downtown to the hospital
to see what we could discover. As we entered the
Government Regional hospital, we were directed to the
proper ward. We found the Matron, all my hopes were
shattered as I learned Bakari died on Friday evening. He
probably had to lie in the taxi for an hour and who knows
how long he had to wait at the government hospital. He
probably bled to death, lying, waiting for proper care which
never came.
As the week wore on I processed many emotions. I
came to realize the most powerful emotion I felt was love
for this man. I told Keith that I felt like Jesus. When I held
his head and was praying for him, I just felt total love for
him and sorrow for his suffering. At least I got to tell him
that God loves him very much!!! God had bigger plans for
me than a nap.
Changing a Life - Keith
Ellen and I, along with you, have raised funds to support
education of children in Tanzania. Currently we are
supporting 14 people at various levels from primary
through University. The MST is working on setting up an
Education Foundation to continue this work after we our
missionary assignment. This will allow the us, and anyone
else who wishes, to stay connected to Tanzania and the
opportunity to help children like Lilian.
Ellen and I have worked with Frank Magare, KMT
Director of Development and Planning to develop a
program within KMT to administer the Education program.
The program is open to any student regardless of
tribe/religion. An application form has been developed
which interested families must complete. The completed
application along with school grades and other supporting
documents is submitted to the Planning Department and
they send us a recommendation on each applicant. The
project department has a separate bank account for our
program from which they can draw funds once we approve
the student for funding. The Project office is submitting a
budget for each students projected annual funding needs.
The project office also handles payment of student school
fees and provides cash directly to students for approved
needs. Students are required to provide receipts and
document for expenses. Where there is no family support
available for the student the project office purchases
supplies and clothes for students. When the fund needs
more money Mim Zimmerman, treasurer of our MST,
transfers money to the account at our request.
Frank called saying he was sending an email which we
needed to review immediately, The email reads as follows:
LILIAN ELIJA Church membership: Catholic; Area of
study: Secondary School; Duration of course study: Four
years. Why does she want to go to School: To get more
qualification that will put her in a better position to support
herself and family and to contribute as professional to
develop Africa. Reasons for individual scholarship: There
is no one else to pay for her, and also to rid her from forced
marriage. Her grandfather has decided to give her away for
marriage to his friend who is 70 years old with 5 wives to
get money for substance as well as managing her other
siblings welfare, if she does not find a way to go to school.
Lillian is 13 years old, lost her parents to the deadly
HIV/AIDS when she and two brothers were 9, 5 and 3.
None of the other siblings are infected with the disease but
they had to be left with their grandparents 70 years old
Mzee Nguka and Doris Mbera. At this age they can’t help
themselves and save to pay Lillian’s school fees. Although
she passed to join the local secondary school Katuru, no one
has offered to pay her school fees. She knows Finias
(another orphan we are supporting) and both of them
passed to go to Katuru Secondary School. She came to me
crying and asking if I can help her like Finias. Director’s
recommendation: Have mercy on her and also consider her
as an emergency case to join School. By doing this we
would save her from that marriage, and maybe some day
she could become somebody. Her budget is just 200,000
($175 USD)per year. Totals to 800,000 ($700 USD) for 4
years plus other unforeseen costs.
Ellen and I read the email and called Frank giving him
approval to help Lilian . Frank has seen that she is enrolled
in school and is getting the support she needs. While this
does not guarantee that the grandparents will not ship her
off to Kenya, it will eliminate the reason they were
considering arranging the marriage. That being their biggest
means of support. Since we will now be providing the
support they need I believe they are more likely to keep her
close to home so she can help them as they age.
So, if you feel moved to help, send a check for the
education fund designated for Lilian. If we receive more
money than Lilian needs, we will look for another Lilian to
help with the additional funds. You can also feel free to
send a general donation for education. The generosity we
see from family and friends continues to inspire us in our
work and reassures us that God is with us in the work we
are doing here.
Sunday Morning Again - Keith
I am in Arusha for a planning and development meeting. It
is wonderfully cool here relative to the heat of Dar. But as
I turn off the alarm I am thinking only of the long day to
come. I have been asked to drive a group of 6 people
attending the conference 70 kilometers to Moshi to attend a
church service at Newlands Mennonite Church. Of course
nothing here ever goes as planned so I try to mentally
prepare for calm and flexibility. Our trip goes uneventfully
until we reach Moshi and we take a series of wrong turns
and have to stop for directions several times. It is at this
point that I find out the church is not really in Moshi but
rather some ways outside of town on a sugarcane
plantation. We are to meet a church member somewhere
along the way once we find the correct road. We finally
find the church member and the entrance to the sugarcane
plantation. I marvel at the absurdity of the picture as we
pass what turns into 20 miles of sugarcane fields. All
around me green fields of sugarcane are being watered with
spray irrigation. While only a few miles away the ground
is dry and parched from lack of water. The car is occasionally
sprayed with water from a faulty irrigation jet forcing
me to turn on the wipers.
We finally arrive at the sugarcane workers’ village
although I would better describe it as a shanty town. I am
told to turn down a muddy lane between two ramshackle
buildings. Wondering if I can even get through I turn only
to be confronted with a tremendous pool of water. No way
around, it’s not deep just go through it I am told. Now
where have I heard that before? The last time I got stuck in
a mud hole I had to get dug out. I stopped, put it in 4-wheel
drive and gunned the engine. Off I went slipping and sliding
but I got through. People actually pay money to do this in
the US. I followed a dirt walking path for about a mile
passing many people dressed in their Sunday best. As we
pulled up I heard beautiful music coming from the church.
Of course we were late but only by US standards.
It is a small congregation with maybe 75 people in
attendance. I immediately make two new friends, a girl of
5 or 6 and a boy of 3 or 4. They come and squeeze in on
either side of me, each holding a hand. Smiles are everywhere,
the power of the spirit rings in every song and there
is joy in the air. There is a time of corporate prayer as
everyone calls out their own prayer and the sounds mix and
mingle together in a joyous noise that somehow creates a
pleasing and soothing sound to my ears. Then the choir
leader begins to play a song on her drum which is made
from some kind of canister covered with animal skin. I
immediately want it and am amazed at the sound she can
produce from such a simple instrument. Where is my
camera!? Of course I left it at home.
As I enjoy the music I look at the large cut-out pictures
made by the kids which decorate the walls. Noah’s Ark on
one wall, Luke 15:1-17 and lost sheep on another. I wonder
where they got all the paper and crayons. Yet under all the
smiles and excitement, I see the exhaustion in many gaunt
faces and bodies from hard labor. I see one young woman
singing in the choir. She looks exhausted, no smile, little joy
in her eyes. How hard must it be. Later I see her nursing her
child. She finishes, lifts the child to her knee and begins to
bounce him and I see a huge joyful smile. A beautiful face
emerges from the tired frail face. I wonder if she is sick
(HIV) or just over worked. Maybe both. Will she survive
another year?
My new friend holds my hand, frantically she rubs my
white fingers as if to see if the color will come off and the
finger will be black like hers. I smile at her and then rub
her fingers. She giggles and we sit holding hands for the rest
of the sermon.
After the sermon they have a fundraiser only because
there are guest and we of course have money. They auction
off some small sewn items. I let other people buy them.
When they are done I ask my translator to tell them I would
like to bid on the drum if they are willing to sell it. They
talk and decide they can get another one. The choir director
brings it out and they ask for a starting bid. I bid 50,000
shillings(about $45 USD). A great cry goes up and women
run over and dance around me waving cloth at me and
doing a Kalali (a high pitched African call). I realize that
they did not bring out the stick which the choir director used
to produce the beautiful music so I offer 5,000 more
shillings for the stick. More screams and dancing as
someone runs inside to get the stick. Finally I tell them I’ll
give them 20,000 more shillings if the choir sings one more
song for me. More screams and dancing and the choir forms
up and the drum begins to beat. Oh why didn’t I bring my
video camera?!
Afterwards they have fun trying to teach me how to
play the drum African style as we wait for the food to finish
cooking. After a meal of rice, beans and greens we are
ready to head back to Arusha. As we head down the dirt
path I want to return already missing the joy of a simplistic
worship service amongst a joyful group of people.
“Life in Dar is OK” – Alex age 15
It has been getting really hot here which isn’t that fun.
When you are used to it being about 20o outside at this time
of year then you go into 100o weather it is rough trying to
adjust to it. When it is this hot it is fun to go to the beach
but the Indian Ocean water temperature is warm -- it is sort
of like taking a bath.
School has been going well for me even though it is
really challenging right now. I started the year in 8th grade
but was elevated to 9th grade in mid-term. Ever since it has
been really hard because we do IGCSE which is like 11th
and 12th grade back home but it is 9th and 10th here. I am
now learning stuff that if I were in the US I wouldn’t be
learning for another 2 years. My favorite classes are
English and History and my least favorite is math. My math
and physic teacher is really boring because he takes his
lessons right out of the text book. So I could just go home
and copy it out of the book. In history I am learning about
the time in between WWI and WWII. It is very interesting
to learn about what led up to WWII.
I joined the Under 15 basketball team and have enjoyed
learning a new sport. I found that in the beginning I was not
very good but I have gotten better with practice. I never
really knew how to shoot a basketball before. I would just
throw the ball in the general direction of the hoop and hoped
it would go in. Mr. Hundt, my coach, showed me how to
shoot and it has helped me get a lot better. The schedule for
basketball is Monday and Friday practice and Tuesday a
game. I have played in 2 games – in the first one we had
only five players so we had no subs and everyone got really
tired. We lost that game 10-4. The second game had all our
players there so we were not as tired and we won 22-4.
I am very glad to have friends that I can interact with
on a day-to-day basis. I got this revolutionary object called
a cell phone and it changed my life foreverJ. I mean really
now I can contact all my friends at the push of a button. It
is really convenient.
We are staying here for another 2 years at least. I really
want to come home and be with my friends and family but
now I also have friends here that I want to be with so it has
been hard for me to make up my mind about how I feel. I
tell people when they ask me if I want to stay that it
depends on the day of the week. I got this philosophy from
a good friend of mine who lives in Kenya. It is true some
days I really want to stay and others I wonder what was
going through my head when I said I wanted to stay. It is
really hard.
Now as a closing word please pray for all the people in
Kenya that their problems would be solved.
“I like living in Dar es Salaam” – Leah age 7
I am enjoying going to 1st grade at Haven of Peace
Academy. I am learning to read, write, including cursive,
and I also have a swimming class. My teacher’s name is
Miss Townsend, who recently came from Texas to be our
teacher. She is very nice. We do table points, which allows
the table with the most points get to choose something from
the treasure box at the end of the week. We have a new
game at school which is called four in a row. It is outside
and is bigger than me. My class gets to play on Monday
with the kindergarteners. I have many friends and we take
turns going to each other’s house to play. We play house,
dolls, teacher and sometimes if it is not to hot outside we
ride our scooters. Sometimes I get to go to one of the small
islands near Dar. We take a ride in a small wooden boat to
get there. It takes about 20 minutes. It is fun to go there
because the water is very clear and I can see lots of fish in
the water.
Haven of Peace Academy – Gerry age 13
When we first moved to Dar, Haven Of Peace Academy did
not have space for me in the 7th grade class. So I started the
year in sixth grade. Before Christmas break a student from
grade 7 left to go to boarding school. I was first in line to
take her place. Mom and Dad asked if I wanted to move
up. I thought about it and decided it would be a good thing
so that I graduate high school before I am 20. So I am in
7th grade now and it is obviously more challenging than 6th
grade. All my friends in the 6th grade class were not
particularly happy that I was leaving the class in fact some
were very angry. The seventh grade students are of course
different than the sixth grade students so I have needed to
make new friends and adjust to different personalities.
Seventh grade is a good class but there are a few extremely
obnoxious kids that give grade 7 a bad name. It is a bit
annoying that I have to catch up in all of the subjects and I
have to get used to a new schedule. I am now in French
class instead of German. I did not really like German but
I like French which is much easier than German. At break
I play soccer with the 7th grade boys and it is fun but
challenging and sometimes irritating because some of the
obnoxious kids play and they make everyone mad.
Unfortunately HOPAC’s soccer pitch is not that nice. It is
in intense direct sunlight and it has sand and this nasty
grass that is very sharp. The sand makes it easy to slide and
fall. It is easy to get hurt on the pitch with the sand and
pieces of grass getting into the wounds. It really hurts
when you have to clean it all up. I like playing soccer but
I still like American football and baseball and basketball
more. I have been on HOPAC’s basketball team for a while
and we have practice on Monday and Friday and a game on
Tuesday. We have won enough games to get a chance to go
to the championships so we have been playing hard to get
there. I hope everyone enjoys the updates -- just know that
I am doing fine and I hope everyone back home is well.