Streams on Dry Ground

Something New

2007-09-28T21:57:00.000+03:00

Ya know… after a year in Africa, what used to seem strange is no longer strange. It all starts to become normal. Not much catches you off guard. It’s just a part of everyday life in Africa.

And then there are those rare occasions when it hits you again. Something fresh… something new… something never before seen. Well tonight my roommate and I went to the lovely movie theatre. Yes we have a great movie theatre in Africa… and it’s just across the street! So we settle into our seats and prepare for the movie as usual. We enjoy the first half of the movie. Nothing too odd. And then a lovely couple enters the theatre and settles in to enjoy the second half of the movie. I know you’re probably thinking… wait, did they just get here? Don’t they know they missed most of the movie? Did they pay full price to watch the end of a movie? But see, this is all a part of normal life here. Time is of no importance. You get there when you get there. You leave when you leave. Hakuna matata! No worries.

So the couple settles in for the last half of the movie…nothing surprising. And then it happens. Out of the corner of my eye, I see something scurry down the wall. I quickly alert Marissa and pick my feet up off the ground. Well she’s kind of thinking I’m crazy at this point and just seeing things.

She says, “What was it?”

“Ummm… I don’t know!”

“Was it big?”

“YES!!”

Well we have lots of lizards in and out of our buildings. Maybe a lizard just caught my eye. Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe I was going crazy. But the rest of the movie I kept one eye on the wall…just in case. Just as the movie was ending, there it goes again, back up the wall! Well this time I wasn’t the only crazy one. Marissa saw it too! And it was huge! No doubt about it. Definitely not a lizard! It was fuzzy! Did I mention huge?! We let out a little squeal and a burst of laughter. But we maintained our composure until the credits started to roll. Then we raced out of the theatre making sure nothing was following us.

After living in Africa for a year, strange things may become normal. But I will never be okay with huge, furry things crawling up and down my walls!

Summer Fun

2007-08-16T18:14:00.000+03:00

Even though it’s technically winter here and the temperatures are dropping into the 70s, we can still call it summer! It has been quite a fun summer. The students have been away on vacation, but we have found lots to do in their absence. Here are a few highlights to the summer.

The arrival of our summer volunteer, crazy Katelyn Saylor!

A farewell party to all of our students as they headed back home for vacation

A trip to Dodoma to visit my friend Neema

A trip to Morogoro to visit my friend Asha

Of course a few trips to the beach

A visit at my friend Tina’s house with her family

A visit with my friend Dominica and her new baby, Mauree

A great two weeks with my wonderful college roommate, Denise, including a safari and trip to the beautiful island of Zanzibar

4th of July party at the American Embassy on the 6th of July… we’re still in Africa

Working at an orphanage with a volunteer team

Team Retreat… to the beach of course (We have to take advantage of the opportunities God has given us!)

A wild and crazy trip to Uganda to visit my friend Eleanor

And to top it all off, Marissa and I leave tomorrow for vacation in Italy. A wonderful end to a wonderful summer. Then it’s back to work… I promise Mom!

License, Registration, and Marriage License Please

2007-07-28T03:43:00.000+03:00

Traffic police in Tanzania are an interesting thing. Their job description rarely includes enforcing the law. They do however set up random checkpoints along the road to check people’s official information. It doesn’t make much sense… but then again I’m in Africa, does anything make much sense?

So one day I was driving to visit a friend. As I was driving, I encountered a check point. Lucky me, I got pulled over. He asked for my license and I willingly gave it. He responded with, “Is this real?” Well of course it’s real! And if it’s fake, I’m surely not going to tell you that. He continues to check the blinkers on my car, which is the first time they have ever done this to me. Sadly, one of my blinkers was broken. He wasn’t too happy about that. I also had a broken side view mirror because some thieves tried to take it one night. He didn’t approve of that either. (Which I find funny considering every car I see driving around Dar looks like it’s about to fall apart. At least mine is all in one piece!) So we weren’t off to a very good start here.

He asked if I had a police report to prove that the thieves broke the mirror. Well, yes I have a police report, but it’s not with me. Well where is it? It’s at my office. And he says… where do you work? Now this can either be a good thing or a bad thing. If he likes Baptist people, I’m home free. If not, I could be in seriously trouble. But I proceeded to tell him, I work for the Baptist Mission of Tanzania. He responded with, Oh, do you know Jesus? And I said, Yes. Do you? He said, Tell me about him! So I then shared the gospel with the man. And he responded with, “You’re lying!” Uh oh! This situation is getting worse by the minute. So I tried to convince him I wasn’t lying and that all of it was in the Bible, which he said he believed in.

So after all of this, he finally looks at me and says, “Are you married?” Ha! Here it comes! This is what he was working towards the whole time. I chuckled and said No, not yet. I’m too young to marry. He said, No! You should be married and have two kids by now! I laughed and said I was waiting for God to bring me the right husband. He said, God has brought me to you. I want to marry you! I laughed even more and said, You don’t want to marry me! I’m a lazy mzungu. He said, But I like mzungu. I said, No you need to marry a nice Tanzanian woman who will work very hard. I won’t work very hard. I am too lazy. He says, It’s okay. I don’t like to work either. Haha. Surprise surprise!

At this point, I am getting more and more worried that he’s not going to return my license to me. But I politely turned down his nice marriage proposal. He asked for my number. I said no again and asked if I could leave. He smiled and said, It was nice to meet you. And praise the Lord, I drove off! Another fun-filled day in Africa.

The learning never ends...

2007-06-08T17:27:00.000+03:00

A few weeks ago, my friend Lulu came over to visit. I taught her how to play Scrabble. That was an interesting experience. I only won by a few points (kinda sad considering I’m a native English speaker). But after Scrabble, she taught me how to play a Tanzanian card game very similar to Uno. This was quite the cultural experience. I had no idea that cards are played different in every country. Let me educate you. The order of the cards is very different here. For instance, the face cards are not the highest point value. On the contrary, they are the lowest. A king is worth 4 points, a jack is worth 3 points, a queen is worth 2 points, and an Ace is worth 1 point. They also call them wazungu (Swahili word for white people) instead of face cards. Or they refer to them by their letters only, K, J, Q, A. She didn’t realize the reason for the letter until I explained they were a King, Jack, Queen, and Ace. Does it show you much about the culture when they put the two male cards as more important than the female card? In the game we were playing, you wanted to discard your cards with a high point value first. Well it was quite an adjustment to realize that a 7 is much higher than an Ace.

My favorite part of playing the game was learning the Swahili words for the suits.

Spades – Jembe (English meaning - Hoe)
Diamonds – Kisu (English meaning - Knife)
Hearts – Kopa (English meaning – Love)

And my favorite!! Clubs – Mavi ya mbuzi which in English means goat poop. She had to tell me several times before I would believe her. And she proceeded to explain that the clubs looked like the poop of a goat. Have you ever been that close to a goat? She asked. J

Every day holds its own Tanzanian treasure. This day was goat poop.

Flat Tires, Baby Goats, and a little Parks and Rec

2007-05-23T10:28:00.000+03:00

We roadtripped across Africa to get to our meetings in Kenya. It was quite the trip. The scenery was beautiful, changing nearly every minute. You could look out the right side and see mountains and on the left a desert plain. It was absolutely gorgeous and a tribute to the glory of God.

I was really excited that they let me drive part of the stretch. We were in a HUGE car and I was the only girl to drive. Don’t tell my Daddy though. I think he gave instructions about me not driving… but I must have missed those. While we were driving, I experienced my first flat tire. I had no idea what was going on. But with a seasoned male driver in the car he calmly told me to pull over. We pulled over in the most beautiful place. With mountains all around, the girls took pictures while the guys worked on the car. I tried to be helpful every now and then, but I think I was just in the way mostly.

While the guys worked, lots of little people came out of the woods to watch the action. They just sat and stared at the Wazungu caravan. Some little goat and cow herders made their way with their herds and just hung out. We made friends with the little guys and even got to pet the goat. Here’s a few pictures of our flat tire experience.

Marissa and I hard at work on the flat tire! Or taking pictures to document my first ever flat tire.

The men actually hard at work on the flat tire!

The perfect location for a flat tire! In the middle of God's beautiful creation.

Just a few of our newest friends.

And the cute little boy holding the cute baby goat.

I told you we made lots of new little friends!

And just in case you were curious, we arrived to Kenya safely. No more flat tires and nothing too dangerous! Karibu Kenya! (That's another new friend. I'm really good at making friends here!)

We drove past Mt. Kilimanjaro on the way, the tallest mountain in Africa. But with the clouds we couldn’t see all of it. But on the way home from Kenya, we flew over it. It was amazing. Here is the snow-topped mountain peeking through the clouds.

We had a great time in Kenya. We snuck away from our meetings a few times and had some fun in Nairobi. We even got to visit a park one day!

Fountain Fun! I think Africa makes me a little crazier every day. Or maybe I started out that way.

And the best part of all was getting to hang out with my Mom. If you don’t know her, you’re really missing out! She’s about the most fun anyone could be!

SURPRISE

2007-05-22T18:25:00.000+03:00

This post is a little late. But I thought it was still necessary to share – my first African birthday. If you’re going to have a birthday, I suggest having it in Africa. It started in March and didn’t end until May. That’s the way to celebrate! While I was visiting my parents in March, we started the party off right with a few gifts and a day at a Lodge. With the African postal system, most people didn’t know when exactly to send the gifts. And like normal, they all arrived at various times. So I just continued to celebrate throughout the whole month of April and even in to May. But the highlight of my birthday this year was done by my wonderful roommate and dear friend, Marissa.

One Friday night I had plans with Eleanor. We were going to study the Bible at her room and then come back to my house for dinner. She had wanted to cook for us for a long time. So we planned to do it that night. Everything went smoothly, me totally unaware of what was about to happen. When we arrived back at our house, I noticed a friend’s car in the drive. My mind raced a million places to why they might be there, but it never hit the right reason. I went in the house, still totally unaware, and noticed a lot of food out on our dining room table. I looked at my three white friends sitting on the couch and said, “I’m so confused.” At that moment, about 30 people jumped out from everywhere yelling, “SURPRISE!” I was stunned. So stunned I almost started to cry. I have had many attempted surprise parties in my four years in college, and I think nearly everyone failed. And to think that my roommate was able to invite all my friends and fix every detail without me knowing was remarkable. We are together nearly 24 hours a day. I have no idea how she pulled it off.

But we had a great time at the party. We laughed, talked, ate, and even played some of my favorite games. Here are a few pictures of my precious surprise party!

This is just after I first arrived. I'm still in shock. And running around the room like crazy trying to remember everyone who was there. They all hugged me when I came. But I wasn't paying enough attention to actually look at them. These are some of my sweet girls!

Me and lots of girls. They're all great! You should come meet them.

Louie kept sneaking in to our girl pictures! Shame on him!

This is my wonderful friend Lulu. She is studying to be a doctor.

This is Eleanor, the girl who was in on the surprise the whole time, and her roommate Lydia. Lydia got ready for the party while I was in the room studying with Eleanor. I was totally clueless as to why she was dressing up so cute.

Me and the boys!

This is me and my cake. If you can't tell, the cake is actually a big bowl of muffins. They knew there would be a lot of people. So they made lots of muffins instead of a really big cake. So they stuck all the candles in different muffins. The Tanzanians didn't know any different and loved the muffins. They are always asking for more!

But after the surprise party, the strangest thing happened. Reality hit. And it hit hard. I was so honored that my friends came to celebrate with me. I was blessed that they loved me enough to come. I realized that God had brought me here and was using me in people’s lives. What a blessing! But I also realized that I had friends and family back home who really wished they could celebrate my birthday with me. I saw the blessings of two amazing families. A family in Africa and a family in America. But I also saw the curse of it. Those two worlds will never collide. They will always be two worlds. My friends in Africa will never know my friends in America. My friends in America will never know my friends in Africa. And this may sound crazy to you, but that hurts deep inside. There are two families in this world that I love dearly. They are both a gift from God. But my heart aches wishing you could meet each other. So I will continue to tell stories. I will continue to show pictures. And I will pray that each family will understand a little bit about life on the other side of the world.

Game Night

2007-04-07T16:40:00.000+03:00

This semester we decided to have a fellowship each month with the students involved in Bible studies. The first month we watched a movie together. They always love watching movies. Well in March, we decided to try something a little crazy and plan a game night. At Christmas time, Marissa and I tried a few games with our friends at our Christmas party. They didn’t go quite as planned. Apparently, there are lots of cultural differences when playing games. So we just prayed that this game night would be a success despite those differences. And praise God who is faithful! It was amazing!

As usual, the students rolled in late. We were a little worried no one was going to even show. But they did. And for the first few hours, it was only girls at the party. We were expecting our guy leaders to come, but most of them couldn’t make it. So we had a great time playing silly games with the girls. And they had a great time as well. It was definitely the talk of the weekend!

So here are a few pictures from our crazy game night!

A crazy game of Gorilla - Man - Gun! Gorilla beats the man. Man beats the gun. Gun beats the gorilla. You tie, you die! 1 - 2 - 3. Looks like the gorilla beat the man in this game.

Hmm... who knows what this is? Maybe a gorilla and a man. Or maybe that's a gun. That's a tough call. Whatever it is... they're having fun!

Janet and Neema, two roommates taking a break from all the games.

Marissa and Angela - silly girls. Angela's boyfriend was on his way. So we were being extra silly for her. :)

Here is a picture of our intense game of spoons. We are all very focused! The girls loved this game. I think we will be playing it a lot more!

Championship spoons! Very intense. And as the reigning champion, there was lots of pressure on me. So I thought it was only appropriate that I bow out and let Angela win one time. Haha.

This is a picture of the craziest and most fun game we played. Each person has a partner. One partner gets in the inner circle and the other gets in the outer. Then the two cirlces walk in opposite directions. The caller calls out two different body parts. Then the two partners have to find each other and touch those two things - such as Elbow to Elbow. The students loved this game. This picture is them walking around in their crazy circles!

Crazy Fun Times!

All the girls we love so much!!

God Stories

2007-04-07T16:33:00.000+03:00

Our God is faithful. Always faithful to give me a swift kick in the behind. Two times in the same week He reminded me that He was there and that I should start listening. So I thought you might enjoy these stories. (If you read my latest update, these names may sound familiar. But it’s the background to the stories.)

Story #1 - So I have been meeting with a dear friend Janet to study Women of the Bible. When we first met she told me that she believed in many different things. Her faith was a mix of Islam and Christianity. Since that point, she has been faithfully studying the Bible and the Spirit has been showing her that Jesus is the only way. So recently, she informed me that she didn’t consider herself a Muslim. I wasn’t sure if that meant she had actually received Christ as her Savior or what. But I realized that I’m not the ultimate judge. So I just kept trusting in the Lord and praying that He would bring her unto Himself. While I was attending a meeting with other missionaries one weekend, God clearly told me to talk to Janet about baptism. This would be a clear sign of her obedience to Christ. So on the way home I was praying and thinking about how to introduce the topic of baptism. We have been studying women of the Bible and we had just finished Ruth. So I tried to think of a woman in the Bible who was baptized. The best example I could come up with was Lydia. But Ruth to Lydia seemed like quite a jump. Well Tuesday rolled around quickly which was the day of our Bible study. That morning I had little time to prepare so I decided to stick with the originally planned study on Hannah and that we would talk about Lydia next week when I had more time to prepare. When I arrived in Janet’s room we spent the first hour just talking about life. About the time we were going to start the study she says, “So I was reading this Christian newspaper the other day about Lydia. I didn’t read much of it. But do you know the story of Lydia?” I couldn’t help but laugh and say a little prayer of forgiveness all at the same time. So God’s plan prevailed and we talked about Lydia that day. We continued to talk about baptism during our next few studies and she is praying for clarity on this subject. Pray that she will choose to follow the Lord in obedience no matter what the cost is. Pray that she will be able to stand firm under the persecution from her family and friends.

Story #2 – We have a sweet young house worker named Selina. She comes three days a week to help around the house. She is amazing and we have developed quite a friendship. Back in November I was journaling and I felt in my heart that I needed to share my faith with Selina. She knew that we were here doing Bible studies with students, so I thought it strange that I didn’t share any truth with her. But like the sinner that I am, I didn’t obey God’s calling. I was very nervous about trying to talk in Swahili with her about my faith. So I kept it on my to-do list, but conveniently ignored it every day. Around February, I felt the same call on my heart. This time I prayed even more about it. I was paralyzed by fear because of my lack of Swahili. I knew it would flop if I tried to study with her in a foreign language. “I’m just not good enough,” I kept saying to God. One day in March, I was standing in the kitchen talking to her. We started to talk about church and I asked her what she had learned that Sunday. She told me that at her church they talk about the Word of God, but not the Bible. I was a little confused by this statement, because the Bible is the Word of God. But I soon learned that she hears about God at church, but never really connects it to Scripture in the Bible. Immediately, I turned to God and said, “Okay… I see what you’re doing here.” Well if she hadn’t already opened the door up enough, she just kept opening it even wider. She started to ask about my studies at the University. She asked how I do them. And eventually, if I do them in Swahili. I laughed and told her that she knows my Swahili is not good enough for that. Then I turned back to God and said, “Okay, Lord, I will follow wherever You lead.” So I told Selina I would be happy to try and study in Swahili. Since then, we have had two wonderful Bible studies in Swahili. And she has been faithful to tell these stories to her friends and family. I am so excited to see what God does through Selina’s faithfulness. Please pray for both of us as we continue to try and communicate with one another.

Praise God that He is faithful, even when we are not. I also thank God that these reminders of His calling were rather gentle ones. He carefully and gently guided me back onto His path when I tried to stray. I pray that I will continue to walk each step in His will.

Stand Firm

2007-03-10T22:52:00.000+03:00

Yesterday I was studying the Holy Spirit with two of my friends. It was exciting as we discussed the passages and I could see their eyes being opened to new truth. But it was also heart breaking to see them realize how vastly different the Truth of the Word is compared to what is being taught in their churches. These two girls are seeking the Way of Christ, but they are being led astray by those who claim to be “Christians.” As we were talking, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Matthew 7:15.

“Beware of the false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves.”

Shouldn’t church be the place to go for answers? Shouldn’t pastors be leading people to truth? Shouldn’t fellow Christians be encouraging and building up the body? But in so many places, the church parades around in sheep’s clothing while it devours people like ravenous wolves. I know that the church is full of sinners and it will only reach complete perfection when Christ returns, but until then where do I tell my friends to worship in spirit and truth?

My heart is broken for my students. It is broken for the churches in Tanzania. It is broken for the student fellowships that exist on campus. It is broken for all of those who claim to be Christian. It is broken for all of those who claim to be “saved.” But as my heart breaks, the only thing I know to do is go before the Father. The only thing I know to do is plead for these people. The only thing I know to do is pray that they will continue in His word and become true disciples of Him, that they will know the truth and the truth will make them free. (John 8:31-32)

My friends told me yesterday, “It’s just so confusing, Whitney. Everyone is saying something different.” I wish that wasn’t true. I wish that the world wasn’t screaming a million different things at us. I wish that false prophets didn’t drag us astray. I wish that our churches weren’t teaching lies. But this has been happening for hundreds of years. Jesus told us to expect this. Jesus told us it will continue. So if this is the way it is going to be, how do we fight it? We fight with the sword of the Spirit, the word of God, the truth. But we can only use the truth when we know it. We can only know it when we study it. So it all comes back to where we started yesterday – studying the Word. So I will encourage my friends to keep studying truth so they can be prepared to fight. But I also want to encourage you, are you prepared to fight?

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might. Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, stand firm.” Ephesians 6:10-13.

Does anybody really know what time it is?

2007-02-12T13:27:00.000+03:00

*Sorry such a long post, but stick around. It might be a good one!

One Sunday afternoon, I visited with my friend Neema. She attends a college of education that is a branch of UDSM. She wanted to show me the room where she stays and her college. So we met at UDSM and drove to her college. We spent some time in the room she rents from a family drinking sodas and talking. I had told her at the beginning of our day that I had another appointment at 3 pm. So at about 2:20 we started leaving her house.

As we left, she told me there was one other place she wanted to show me. We walked for about ten minutes and arrived at another little house. She wanted to introduce me to the family that she used to live with and show me her first room. We went in and sat down. I kept checking my watch and trying to give hints to Neema that I still had an appointment at 3. But we still just kept sitting there. After some time of sitting there and watching the TV without really talking, I finally looked at Neema and she asked if I needed to leave. So as we started to leave, the man of the house stopped us at the door. I was trying to follow the conversation with my limited Swahili, but I wasn’t too sure what was happening. Finally he looked at me and said, “You can’t leave. In our culture, if a guest comes, she must stay for food. So we have started to prepare food for you. Please stay with us longer.” I tried to explain to him that I had a friend who would be waiting for me at 3. We meet every Sunday at 3 and she is going to expect me. Well that didn’t seem to matter too much to him. He explained to me that Africans do not keep time like Americans do. He said he knows that time is money to me, but that I must stay. Well there wasn’t much I could do from that point. He had already pulled the “culture card” and I couldn’t offend the culture. So I told him that I needed to walk to my car and call my friend to inform her I would be late. He was very excited about my decision.

So Neema and I returned to the house and waited for the food. We sat around with several people and watched TV. There were only two chairs in the house. As the guest, I was given one and everyone else sat on the floor. We were finally served traditional African food – ugali (wet, tasteless, mushy bread), fish, and chicken. The servings are always more than I can handle and after already having lunch and a coke, it was a struggle to finish my food. Neema ate hers in a few minutes. It took me probably 20 to finish mine. They laughed and made jokes about how slow I was. And that if I was African I would never get enough food, because everyone else would finish all the food before I even started eating mine.

While we sat in the room, there wasn’t much talking between us. But there was a lot of trying to hand me the baby to hold. She wasn’t too fond of me though. Since I was the first white person she had ever seen in her life, she was actually quite terrified. The parents kept trying to convince her to like me, but they weren’t too successful. Each time she would kick and scream and I would feel terrible. They were torturing the poor child on my behalf. I finally learned that if I could keep some distance between us, she would be okay. She would wave at me and say hi, but if I came too close she would start to scream. Then we finally found our common bond, my car. She enjoyed climbing on my car and running around it. So we finally let her inside the car at the drivers seat. I told her in Swahili that she could drive if she wanted to. Everyone laughed and her parents quickly told me No. She was 18 months. Did they really think I was going to let her drive? So by the end of the day, we became friends because of my car and she even let me hold her for a minute.

After staying what I guess was the appropriate amount of time, we finally left the house. They welcomed me back as always and promised that the baby would like me more next time. As we left, Neema told me she wanted to take me to her college as well. At this point, it was already 4 and I was extremely late for my appointment. So I figured, what will a few more minutes hurt? So we toured Neema’s college and even met some of her friends. We spent some time sitting outside under trees and enjoying the breeze. The whole time I was thinking… Does she even care what time it is? Obviously it wasn’t an issue.

I finally left Neema and went to meet my other friend. I arrived to her room only 2 ½ hours late. I explained to her what happened and she laughed a lot. We spent a few minutes saying hi to each other and then I headed back home.

It was a long day, but a really wonderful one. My time with Neema was a blessing even if it did interfere with what I had planned for the day. I was reminded of the concept of time. According to my new friend, time is money to Americans. I’m not sure I want time to be the most valuable thing in my life. Is time really mine anyway? Or is it just another gift from God? I pray that my time will be God’s time, that my time will be in His hands, that my time will only be used to accomplish His work.

This day reminded me of an old Chicago song that I remember listening to with my Dad when I was a kid. “Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care?”

Welcome to Africa!

2007-01-24T17:39:00.000+03:00

There’s never a dull moment in Africa. I thought you’d be interested to hear the latest excitement around here.

My wonderful friend informed me that she sent me a package back in November. So each trip to our office was filled with anxiety… Do we have any packages? We left each time saddened by our lack of packages. But we still had hope that someday that package would arrive.

Well… when January finally rolled around, I was beginning to worry about the package. Thinking it might never make it to Africa. Or if it had made it to Africa, it might never make it to my post office box. So returning home without packages each time diminished our hope little by little.

Until one day… two months after the package left the States, it arrived in our office. Marissa and I were ecstatic. We raced home to open the big box. We found lots of goodies in the box… books, Velveeta, dry erase boards!! But one thing we found was quite perplexing. There was an empty bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups. We thought… Well that’s just mean. Why would someone send us an EMPTY bag of Reese’s?! Is this some kind of joke?! So we read the letter concerning the contents of the box. She didn’t mention anything about the empty bag of Reese’s. So we started to examine the box a little more. It didn’t take us long to find the source of our problem. It seems that a sweet little rat chewed his way through the first box, then the second box, proceeded to consume every bit of the Reese’s including the wrappers, and then made his way back out of the box! Thankfully, he made his way back out of the box. Or that would have definitely been an interesting package!

Marissa and I laughed for a while, cursed the rats for a while, and took some pictures for your enjoyment. It turns out that the box arrived in Tanzania only a month after being shipped. But then it sat in the customs office for another month waiting to be processed. We imagine the rat found his Christmas present during that month long customs process. As my Tanzanian friend would say, “Welcome to Africa!”

Will you marry me?

2007-01-15T22:21:00.000+03:00

So marriage proposals seem fairly common to me now. I think I’ve lost count at the number of guys who are interested. While some days it may be a nuisance, most days I just like to consider it a great flattery. I forget the fact that I have white skin and they are probably only interested in a ticket to America or some money. Rather I like to think that it must be my undeniable beauty or amazing charm.

So I thought I would share a funny story for the day concerning marriage proposals. One day, Marissa and I were leaving the local shopping mall. (I use that term lightly, but it is considered the first mall in Tanzania). As we walked out to our car, one of the guards followed us. They like to try to use their English with the pretty girls, but today he was struggling just a bit. He stuttered out, “How is your wife?! I mean…. Hmmm…. Your boy? How is your boy?” Realizing his mistake I said, “My husband?” And he said, “Yeah!” I responded with, “Oh he’s great! How’s your wife?” He said, “Oh, no wife. But maybe her?” while pointing to Marissa. I said, “Oh yeah! She’d make a great wife!” Marissa quickly jumped in the car and scolded me for offering her up as a potential wife. We laughed as we drove off.

Needless to say, we enjoy lots of laughs in Tanzania. Whether it’s marriage proposals or chaotic traffic or crazy Swahili, it’s either laughing or crying. So we like to choose laughing!

The Reason for the Season?

2006-12-17T17:21:00.000+03:00

This has been a very interesting holiday season for me. I am far away from everything I know. I am far from my friends and family. I am far from the Christmas lights and holiday music. I am far from the shopping malls and the wintry weather. I am far from home and traditions. But being away from everything I know as “Christmas” allows me to draw near to the real reason for the season.

Without the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season surrounding me, I am able to sit in the presence of the Father and truly celebrate the birth of His Son. The Lord is teaching me that Jesus is not just the reason for the season. He is the reason that I live each day. The Lord Almighty sent His one and only Son to be born as a baby in the little town of Bethlehem. He came to bring light into world. He came to give life to all those who believe. He came so that we could know the Father. But the world did not know Him. They did not recognize Him. They despised and hated Him. He was arrested. He was beaten. He was mocked. He was oppressed and afflicted, yet He did not open His mouth. While being reviled, He did not revile in return; while suffering, He uttered no threats. He was hung on a cross to die. He was pierced through for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities. He bore our sins in His body on the cross, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. For by His wounds, we were healed. After bearing our sin on the cross, He did not stay in the grave. He was not defeated by death. Rather, He conquered the grave. He conquered death. He rose again so that we could have eternal life. He bore our sins and defeated death so that we might know the Father, so that we could be forgiven, so that we could live an eternity worshiping and praising the almighty God.

This is the good news that the prophets spoke of hundreds of years before the birth of Christ. This is the good news the angels brought to the shepherds on that holy night. This is the good news that Christ proclaimed as He lived on this earth. This is the good news that the early Christians in Acts declared. This is the good news that God has called each one of us to live and proclaim.

I thank God that He took me far from the “Christmas” I have always known so that He could teach me the true reason for not just the season, but the true reason for life. I pray that this Christmas season you will consider the good news of Christ – His birth, His life, His death, His resurrection. Consider the good news that has been proclaimed for thousands of years.

Consider Christ.

Tanzania Chainsaw Massacre

2006-11-11T10:41:00.000+03:00

For those of you who were wondering, no they don’t celebrate Halloween in Tanzania. To be honest, we passed through October 31 without even really remembering it was Halloween. There were no little children dressed in costumes at my door. No buckets of candy. No scary movies. No pumpkins on front porches. But lucky for me, the wazungu do celebrate Halloween! We were a few days late on our festivities, but they were still fun. So I thought I would give you a little recap of my Tanzanian Halloween.

We all gathered together at our friends’ house for some dinner. The background music was entitled Halloween Rock. We did our best to set the mood for Tanzanian Halloween. To further set the mood, I decided a costume would be appropriate. So I wrapped my Kanga around my neck and created my own amazing cape. I became Swahili Girl! While wearing the cape, I have the supernatural ability to speak Swahili. (It’s definitely what I’ve always dreamed of).

After dinner, the real excitement began. We had our very own watermelon carving. (Watermelon…. Pumpkin….they’re close enough). We had been talking about this Carving Contest for a few months now. It has become an annual event in Dar es Salaam. And since we live in Africa, we are entertained by even the smallest and craziest of things. Since this event was the talk of the team for a few months, there was a lot of pressure to perform well. Marissa and I weren’t too excited about the contest, but we decided to be good sports and go along with the fun. We worked as a team on our melon creation. As most of you would expect, it didn’t take long for me to get into the competition. Marissa is just about as competitive as I am… so we had our game faces on. We huddled in the corner to secretly plot our melon creation. All of the whispers and giggles had the other competitors baffled. They were definitely not expecting what they got that night. But when Marissa and I get going, it’s dangerous!

Words don’t quite do justice to the creation, so you can refer to the pictures. We entitled it “Tanzania Chainsaw Massacre.”

Our teammates were shocked that our minds would even come up with such a horrific event. Watermelons killing watermelons… who would have thought? They were actually quite impressed by our creation. As you can see in the pictures, our other competitors went for a less frightening melon display. The judges, being the sweet people that they are, decided to give different categories for each pumpkin so that everyone could be a winner. There was the cutest, the most geometric, and the most thematic. But our friend Brad wasn’t satisfied with these categories. He demanded there be a winner. So Marissa and I declared ourselves winners and everyone agreed. There was definitely no competition.

After we marveled at our wonderful creations, we did what only any normal person would do. We smashed them. We threw our melons up against a concrete wall and left all the carnage on the side of the road. Crazy wazungu!

So that was my Tanzanian Halloween. I have no doubt that Marissa and I will carry the pride of winning our first Melon Carving Contest for the rest of our lives. And when they begin to talk about next year’s carving, we will be sure to remind them of our Tanzania Chainsaw Massacre. How could they forget?

Are you willing?

2006-11-02T14:31:00.000+03:00

I don't normally use my blog as a personal journal. I like to give you guys stories of things that are happening in Africa. But sometimes I guess it's good to let you guys know what's going on just with me. So here it is...

Last night, I called to wish one of my best friends a Happy Birthday. It was wonderful to be able to hear his voice. But it was also quite difficult. I love the opportunities that I get to talk to people from home, but sometimes they serve as reminders. Reminders of what I may be missing in America. Reminders of how different things may be when I return. Reminders that I miss being able to call my friends and family anytime I want to. Many times when these feelings start to enter my head, I try to keep busy so that I don't have to think about them. As the Lord would have it last night, we did not have any electricity. So there were not many things to occupy my mind with. So I consented to just lay on my bed. I was thinking about my friend and the conversation we had just had. He asked me on the phone, "So where do you think you will be in 2 years?" I've had this conversation with myself many times. Where will you be in 2 years Whitney? And every time I tell myself that I will be back home. So last night, with no electricity, nothing to do, the Lord began to speak...

(excerpt from journal)

Are you willing? Are you willing to be obedient? How far will you go to follow Me? I've asked you to sacrifice your comfort, your home, your friends, and family for a short time. What if I ask you to stay? What if I ask you for more? Will you be willing? Will you draw another bottom line? You had a bottom line - friends and family. You said, "Oh God... I will miss them too much. I won't make it two years without them." But I took away your bottom line. I asked you to follow Me and you did. But how far will you follow? Will you follow to death? There are many who are laying down their lives for me. If I asked you, would you? But right now, it's not death that is your line. It's 2 years. 2 years is your line. You have drawn your time limit on Me. "I will follow God for 2 years here and then I will follow Him back home." Haven't I showed you child? Home is with me. You are at home no matter where you are, because your heart is at home with Me. One day you will be in your perfect home in perfect fellowship with Me. Until then, how far will you follow? Will you lay down what I ask you to? Are you willing to be obedient?

I don't know if this makes sense to anyone else. But it made sense between God and me. And I knew I needed to share it.

Making Friends

2006-11-02T12:06:00.000+03:00

Making friends here is a very different process than in the States. Sometimes it is actually very entertaining. It is not culturally inappropriate to approach someone you do not know and begin a conversation. So I have met many of my new friends by simply sitting down next to someone and introducing myself.

A few weeks ago, however, I was the one who was approached. I had tried to visit a couple of my friends on campus, but they were not in their rooms. So I decided to sit and read until my next meeting. I picked a nice shade tree to sit under near the chapel. Not too long after I sat down, I met my new friend. She just walked right up and started talking. We did our best to communicate in Swahili because she could not speak English. It was a wonderful way for me to practice all the things I had learned. She was a very patient teacher as well. Her name is Rachel.

Did I mention that Rachel is only 5 years old?

I learned a lot about Rachel during our time by the chapel. We talked about her family and her school. We talked about what she likes to do. She even drew a picture for me. I asked her if I could take a picture of her with my camera. She became very intrigued with my camera. So I taught her how to push the button to take a picture. She quickly got the hang of it and proceeded to take a picture of nearly everything. She would take pictures of rocks, leaves, trees, cars…. It didn’t matter what the object was. She just enjoyed being able to push the button and then see the image on the back of the camera. She took pictures of my purse, my skirt, her dress. She even took pictures of people as they walked by. Five year olds can get by with a lot more than adults can.

While we sat and talked, we got a lot of funny stares. They always stare at me because of my white skin. But they were even more intrigued that I was playing with a Tanzanian child.

After we had played together for a while, Rachel looked at me and said, “Twende nyumbani kwangu.” Hmmm…. My Swahili brain started to turn as I tried to translate the sentence. Eventually, I realized that she was saying “Let’s go to my house.” Another cultural difference, inviting people to your home is very common and turning them down is very rude. But I wasn’t sure if it would be okay for me to show up at a house with a 5 year old and try to explain to her parents how we met. I did not know if they would accept me. I did not know if they would speak English. I did not know what would happen. I did not even know where they lived. But I knew I couldn’t turn down the offer by my new sweet friend.

So we headed off towards her house. Luckily, it was just down the road from the chapel. When we arrived at her driveway, I thought maybe I would just try and say goodbye to her there and avoid having to go in the house and meet the parents. It was obvious that that wasn’t going to work. (Remember all of this is happening with my limited knowledge of Swahili). So I entered her house praying that the Lord would bring me into a home with kind parents. We sat down in the living room and I met her 12 year old sister Tumaini. Another cultural thing, if you own a TV, you always have it on. Especially when you have guests. So we sat and watched music videos on the TV. After a few music videos, I was introduced to Matilda, a 19 year old girl cousin (You can see a picture Rachel took of her in the kitchen). The parents, however, were not home yet.

The time was approaching for my next appointment, so I told them that I must go. They all asked me to come back again tomorrow. So the next day I returned for another home visit. When I arrived, Matilda invited me to the table to eat with her and her sister. It was my first time to eat in a home. I was given fish, spinach, ugali, and an orange. Ugali is difficult to describe but it is a very mushy type of bread without any flavor. They use it as their eating utensil. They tear a piece off, press their thumb in it to create a spoon, and scoop up the food. A little while later, I was also given a scrambled egg. It was another very interesting dining experience, but praise the Lord that I was able to eat it all.

After lunch, we sat together and looked through pictures. My little friend Rachel was napping so I didn’t get to play with her again. And the parents were not home again, but they told me that they told their parents all about me. I wonder what they thought about their 5 year old daughter having a 22 year old mzungu friend (white friend). Maybe on my next visit I will be able to meet them.

Making friends is always fun in Tanzania!

Creative Cooking

2006-10-01T16:23:00.000+03:00

So I will admit…. I’m not the best at updating my blog. But for those of you who are still reading it, I promise I will try and do better. Let me know if there is anything you would like to see on here. I am working on getting more pictures online. I will be sure to let you know when that happens and how you can see them.

Here is an interesting meal that I thought I would share with you guys. I visited my good friend Eleanor one Sunday afternoon. Before I leave my house, I always try to eat something. Then… if I am offered some food, I can politely turn it down because I’ve already eaten. Well, since Africans are so hospitable, sometimes that excuse doesn’t work. On this particular Sunday, my friend insisted that I try some of her spaghetti. After a quick prayer, I accepted the offer.

The exciting part was watching her create this spaghetti. The students have very little in their dorm rooms, so there’s no room for a kitchen or anything to cook with. So she has created her own specialty of Flask Spaghetti. She starts by boiling some water. Then she puts some spaghetti noodles in a thermos, which she calls her flask. She pours in the hot water and closes the lid to let the noodles cook. I insisted that she let me take pictures to share her creative cooking!

We continued to visit while the noodles were cooking in the little green thermos. Then we headed out to a little café to get some drinks. She also wanted to make the meal extra special by adding some meat to the spaghetti. It’s not the kind of ground beef you would expect to see on spaghetti, but rather it was large chunks of meat. Interesting flavor to add to spaghetti, but as the guest, what can you do?

We returned to the room to find some nicely cooked noodles. After pouring out the noodles, she added a little salt and butter. Then she added the meat and squeezed a little tomato sauce (more like really thin ketchup) on the creation.

Then it was time for my first bite of flask spaghetti! Let’s just say it wasn’t like any spaghetti I’ve ever tasted before, but it actually wasn’t too bad.

I told her that I would have her over to my house and we could make pancakes. I think that cooking experience will be something a little more familiar.

Home Sweet Home

2006-09-14T07:39:00.000+03:00

I will never truly belong here. The color of my skin will not allow it. I stand out. It is a truth that cannot be denied. When I walk down the streets, people stare. They say “mzungu” which means “white person.” They speak to me in Swahili and laugh when I respond. They watch me as if I am some strange creature from a foreign land. This can be difficult to accept. It is in our human nature to want a place to fit in. We want to belong. We want to be accepted. No matter how hard I try, I can never be a Tanzanian.

But that is not what God has called me to. He has not called me to make this my home. My home is in heaven. This is just a temporary place. As Christians, we are all aliens and strangers to this world. We do not belong here. We do not fit in here. Many times, we are not accepted here. So how do we respond? Do we follow God’s command to “be holy as He is holy?” Or do we find ourselves “conforming to the ways of this world?”

Many times, I try hard to blend in with the Tanzanians. But just as I cannot belong to this country, we cannot belong to this “world.” God has called me to be different. He has called me to be set apart. He has called me to serve Him on this earth until He calls me home. Until then, my heart will make its home with Jesus no matter where my physical body may live.

Where do you choose to call home?

“By faith Abraham, when he was called, obeyed by going out to a place which he was to receive for an inheritance; and he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he lived as an alien in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, fellow heirs of the same promise; for he was looking for the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God… All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance; and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For those who say such things make it clear that they are seeking a country of their own. And indeed if they had been thinking of that country from which they went out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He has prepared a city for them.” Hebrews 11:8-10, 13-16

Wild Wedding Adventures

2006-08-31T02:22:00.000+03:00

This weekend I was invited to my first wedding sendoff. This is just one of the many parties involved in a wedding celebration. During this party, the groom’s family comes to beg the bride’s family for the bride. After following the detailed traditions, the bride’s family agrees to send off their daughter. In between the begging and the sendoff lies the party.

Marissa and I arrived at the party at 6:30pm. Our friend Martha (sister of the bride) escorted us to our table. We were then re-escorted to a reserved table. We don’t know how we classified as reserved guests but to guess that the color of our skin played a significant part. We sat near the high table which included all of the family of the bride. Our friend Martha said that over 100 relatives came together to plan this special send off. They had invited 500 guests. Of those 500, Marissa and I were the only wazungu (white people). She showed us the detailed schedule of the night that began before we even arrived. They had each activity planned down to the minute. At this point, we were waiting for the groom’s side of the party to arrive.

While we were waiting for the groom’s side to arrive, the aunties of the bride began to do some traditional Haya dancing. This is the tribe of the mother of the bride. Marissa and I were privileged to be the only white people attempting this dance. While they were all very encouraging and welcoming, I’m sure they got a good laugh out of the dancing wazungu.

An hour and a half later, the groom’s side finally arrived. They came in to the party dancing, chanting, and carrying gifts. They greeted the family and presented all of their gifts. The next section of the wedding included all of the many traditions involved in asking for the bride. While it all took place in Swahili, our friend tried to translate some of the happenings. For the next hour, they plead their case as to why the family should send off the bride. After much discussion, they finally consented.

At this point, the guest of honor, the bride, finally enters the party. She arrived with an entourage of dancing children and her maid of honor. She and her friend were escorted to the stage where they carried out many more traditions. They toasted with champagne and cut the cake. But all of the activity took place between the bride and friend (not the bride and groom).

At 10pm, they finally started serving the food. I’m not sure what all I ate, but I can say that it was good. During the dinner, a live band began to play. Since all of the evening was in Swahili, it was quite a surprise when we heard “Show me the meaning of being lonely….” The older lady sitting next to us who had not spoken to us the entire night said, “You like?” We just kind of chuckled. And she responded, “Backstreet?” She began to sing along. You never know what to expect when you’re in Africa. The next song was a Shania Twain song. They topped of the English portion of the night with Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing.” Marissa and I could barely contain our laughter.

After the live band, they began to present the gifts to the bride. Each group who had bought a gift would dance in towards the stage with their gift. Then they would all dance around stage for a while and greet the bride. After everyone danced, the bride would sit back down and the next group would enter with their gift. It was a very interesting way to present gifts. I’m thinking about trying it at my next birthday party.

During the gift giving, I excused myself from the table to use the restroom. My friend asked if I needed someone to accompany me. I said I would be alright. I think I might reconsider that answer. After doing my business, I attempted to open the door to the port-a-potty. Attempt being the key word. I turned and turned the lock, but nothing happened. I shook the door several times. Still no help. Panic started to set in when I realized I was locked in the bathroom in Africa where they don’t speak English. People began to bang on the door from the outside. I started banging from the inside. All I could do was say, “Hello!” I don’t know if I have ever prayed that hard before. I continued to fidget with the lock. Finally, after what felt like hours, but I’m sure was more like 10 minutes, the door unlocked. I opened it to find a crowd of Tanzanian ladies staring at me. All I could do was say “Asante” in their language and walk off. I am sure they will forever be talking about the night the white girl got locked in the bathroom. And I’m sure the first thing I will ask my Swahili teacher is how to say “Help! I’m locked in the bathroom.”

At 12:30am, we finally left the party. The dancing had just begun again and the bride had still yet to be sent off. But we managed to sneak out. The drive home proved eventful as well. As our car began to break down, we noticed we were heading the wrong way down a one way street. When we stopped to turn around, we were soon surrounded by policemen with guns. After much pleading and lots more praying, they finally let us go without any punishment. Our car safely made it home and we safely made it to our beds... exhausted.

WELCOME!!

2006-08-27T22:40:00.000+03:00

Welcome to Whitney's Blog! It finally exists!! :)