New Experiences

Since Clif went back to the Assemblies of God Bible College again today, I had another relatively quiet morning at the Guest House. Ed and Debra brought over our bus tickets they had purchased with the money we gave them. "Great!" I thought. "Now we're all ready to leave on Monday and head off to the next part of our adventure." (ominous music here)

I was invited to eat lunch with a missionary family who lives here on the MAF compound. Julianne and Glenn are from Ireland, and they are preparing to move with the their three kids to Uganda next month. We had a lovely lunch of pumpkin soup and homemade bread. It has been so interesting to see all the missionary families at the compound and see how they form a big, extended family to each other.

Then I went over the MAF office to meet Pierre for a tour. He is an engineer from France who repairs and maintains planes. While I was in the office, I asked the office assistant if I could pick up our refund for the flight we booked out of Dodoma - the one they told us back in February was cancelled (after we had already paid for it and received a confirmation number). The office manager went to go check on it while I had my tour.

Pierre was very nice, and he showed me all the planes and tools and things in the hangar. I admit that I'm not particularly interested in plane stuff, but Clif wasn't able to be with us, and he would have loved it. I did enjoy meeting all the people who work here, however. It seemed as though the MAF staff was from all over the world.

Clif came back in time to meet up with the MAF IT people, so I went back to the office to check on our refund. That's when I found out that the flight they told us back in February was cancelled was actually flying on Monday. "You can still get on that flight, if you want, " I was told. Now, we had begged and pleaded with them to get us on a flight to Arusha for weeks back in Feb/Mar, and they told us there was no possible way because all their pilots would be in training on June 20th. Now, apparently, the training was not happening. So, I stood there and debated with myself. We already have our bus tickets. We can't get a refund for them. We were counting on getting the refund for the plane tickets. But the bus ride would be at least 10-12 hours, requiring us to get to the station at 4:30 am. The plane ride is an hour and half and leaves at 8:00 am. And I had to decide right that minute because the office was closing for the weekend. So, I went with the plane. I hated to waste the money for the bus tickets (and the Lonely Planet guide said taking a bus in Tanzania is a cultural experience you shouldn't miss!), but the thought of 12 hours on a bus with limited bathroom stops did not sound like a fun way to spend a day. So there was lots of scrambling to change our plans for Monday.

Today was also the last evening service - my last "seminar." I decide to end with the story of Pentecost. The people really responded to the message, and when it was over, the pastor called them all forward and asked me to say a prayer of blessing over their church. I was caught up in the Pentecostal spirit (Pastor Erasto says I preach like an African), so I PRAYED for them. When I was done, no one moved or spoke. They all just stood there. Then someone began crying, and another began praying aloud and then others joined, weeping, wailing, calling out to God. I'm not sure if they were speaking in Swahili or speaking in tongues, but it was intense. Eventually everything got quiet again and we had a closing prayer and left the service. I'm not sure what happened tonight, but it seemed as though the people gathered felt the Spirit move. I know I was blessed.

After worship, we went to visit the village well (that Erasto was instrumental in getting built), which is powered by a windmill. It is a great thing for this community, 10,000 families, to have access to safe drinking water, but many of them must still walk a long way to the well. As we walked along to the windmill, little kids came running out of their homes to join us, making a parade. We walked past people cooking their evening meals over an open fire. Their mud homes have no electricity, and most of them have 1 or 2 rooms at most. I didn't know when I came here if I would actually get to experience a "real" African village, but walking to the windmill and well felt very real.

(Note from Clif: You will notice white buildings in the background right and cranes in the background left. That is the University of Dodoma under construction within sight of the village.)

Lastly, we had our first taste of Tanzanian ugali - the national dish - tonight! Nessie made it for us, and she showed us how to roll it into a ball, make an indentation and scoop up other foods. It was fun - kind of like edible Play Doh. The other foods she prepared were tasty and interesting, too.

(Note from Clif: Top right-pasta similar to spaghetti; top left-fried chicken; top middle-oranges pealed and cut in half crosswise; left of oranges-ketchup and chili sauce; below right of oranges-eggs scrambled very finely with spices; below center of oranges-chicken stewed with potatoes and curry; bottom right-cabbage slaw; bottom left-ugali.)

I cannot believe that I have preached four nights in a row. I should be exhausted and drained, but instead I am lifted up. I know that my prayer network has carried me through this week, and I'm counting on them to "bring it home" for my last sermon on Sunday morning. We'll celebrate communion here, just as Living Water will be celebrating it in Parkville.