24-Febuary-2008
Bruce Lothrop

(The Internet connection at Selian is very slow. If we can find a faster one, I'll add photos).

The nine of us woke up early this morning, for a three-hour drive to the village on Enguiki, where we would worship at the Lutheran Church. Enguiki is a Maasai village in the mountains above Monduli. After our long day of travel none of us were excited about rising at six am for a three-hour drive. The morning was beautiful, however, with stunning views of Mt. Killmanjaro. We quickly regained our enthusiasm. The drive up through the valley and up into mountains was beautiful, and we saw our first glimpses of Maasai people in their bomas. We arrived at Enguiki in plenty of time for the service, and met Jean and Marv Walstrom, with seven girls from the girl’s school. The girls had all grown up in and around Enguiki. As soon as the girls stepped out of Jean and Marv’s Land Cruiser friends and relatives met them. The girls bowed their heads to the older relatives, who laid a hand on top of the girls’ heads to bestow a blessing.
The service was conducted in a combination of the Kiswahili and Maasai languages. The girls made a point of sitting with members of the mission so they could help us follow the service, and translate the sermon.
The church was a small concrete and stucco building with an exposed corrugated tin roof set in an incredibly scenic spot in the mountains. The area around the pulpit was painted robin-egg blue (or Carolina Blue if you prefer), and the rest was pale yellow. The pews were plain wood, and filled with (we estimated) at least one hundred and fifty people. The vestments were simple and home made, in Lenten purple. The pillow on which the pastor kneeled at the altar was wrapped in a pillowcase emblazoned with racecars. There were two choirs at the front: On the left was a group of women, in traditional Maasai robes and jewelry, who sang in the Maasai language (Maa). On the right was a group of men and women in less traditional dress who sang in Kiswahili. During the offering, (or as the girls described it, the taking of Christ’s portion) the Maasai choir sang and danced. The service followed the same liturgy and format as we follow at Bethel. We even recognized the traditional hymn “Faith of our Father’s”. The combination of familiar form, exotic execution, and pure energy and enthusiasm made for a beautiful celebration that I doubt any of us will ever forget.

After the sermon, the pastor called Jean Walstrom to the front. Jean explained in English that she would introduce the mission team. Jean introduced us in Kiswahili. I went to the service expecting that we would be viewed as a curiosity, and not have a real impact on the events of the day. I was quite mistaken. Jean announced that the village had prepared gifts for the team. We were called forward. Rex, Helen, Irene, Karie, Stephanie, Gary and I were each presented with a beaded cross, which had been made by one of the women in the village. Jack McAllister was given a necklace. The woman who made it tried to put on Jack, only to find that it was a bit too small to fit comfortably over his head. Undeterred, the small woman continued to pull, without regard to damage to Jack’s ears, until she succeeded. The pastor presented Rhodes with an “elder stick” with is a traditional sign of wisdom and authority among the Maasai. The significance of the gift was extreme, as the Pastor presented Rhodes his own leader stick emblazoned with his own name, his father’s name and his grandfather’s name. A local teacher named Thomas from read scripture and thanked us from our journey in Maasai, while his son translated into English. Rhodes then read a passage from scripture, and expressed our gratitude in English, while the young man translated in Maa. We later learned that the teacher was extremely proficient in English, but wanted his son to have the experience of translating extemporaneously before the congregation. In his remarks, Thomas exhorted us to remember his village when returned home.

After the service we were treated as celebrities by the entire village. The women who had made our gifts introduced themselves as best they could (often with the girl’s school children acting as translators) and asked us to take photos of the giver and the recipient together. They were quite eager to look at the photos on the digital cameras and asked that we send copies of the photos back to them. Students from the local schools approached us to practice their English. The outpouring of gratitude, just for our presence at the place, in that time, was overwhelming. We must take the request to remember people of Enguiki very seriously.

After a brief meal of fried potatoes, grilled goat and Chai tea we accepted an invitation visit the family boma of one of the schoolgirls. The is a round mud hut, with a radius of no more than thirty feet, divided into an entrance chamber, a central kitchen and living room, and two or three sleeping chambers. Low mud walls separate the areas. In traditional Maasai life, a herder has a compound with one boma for each of his wives, and here children. There is a large pen made or branches for cows, a smaller one for goats, and a coop for chickens. The boma we visited housed the mother of our guide, and her eight youngest children. Our guide, at 15, was the oldest child.

After our visit to the boma, we explore the Maasai market in Monduli. This is a weekly market for the village. The girls from the school acted as our very enthusiastic guides at the market. A girl named Nicedey showed Steph and I around. While leading us by the hand, she introduced us to several friends and relatives, and was keenly interested to help us pick out something we would like to buy. Merchants laid their wares on blankets on the ground. Those wares were most commonly shoes (probably used) clothing, and local produce. Nicedey mostly shopped for snacks of fruit and nuts and ballpoint pens. Nicedey eagerly picked out a shuka for Steph that Nicedey felt would coordinate well with the necklace received at the worship service. She then decided that she would like to buy a Shuka, the brightly colored cotton robes worn (in different styles) by both Maasai men and women. Nicedey was also eager to pick out a shuka for me. She recommended a bright orange stripe, which she felt would add needed color against my “whiteness”. I favored a more conservative navy blue and maroon plaid. Steph and Nicedey settled on a bright blue stripe. The merchant quoted us a price of 15,000 shilling for both (about $15). We offered 10,000 shillings, and he accepted. I thought it was a good deal, until three more shuka salesmen began thrusting their wares at us. One merchant offered an orange checked shuka for 3000 shilling ($3). We bought it for Nicedey after agreeing on a price of 2000 shillings. Perhaps we are not so crafty. Nicedey was excited to learn that we had two children at home, and was expressed a desire for us to return as a family so she could meet them. We replied that we might not be able to return to Tanzania for some time.
“Why not?” asked Nicedey.
“For one thing”, I replied, “it’s very expensive”
“God brought you here once”; she told me “if you want to come back, he will bring you again”.

We arrived at the guesthouses at the Maasai Lutheran Secondary Girls School late in the afternoon. Jean and Marv help us settle in, and then invited us to their residence for coffee. Rhodes, Irene, Stephanie, Karie and I accepted. Next time Jean and Marv are in Winchester, or you are in Monduli, Tanzania, I recommend taking some time to get to know Jean and Marv. They are warm, wonderful, and very interesting people.

The nine of us ate dinner together, and discussed our day. Each of us talked about moments in which we felt God’s presence. Among many, many other things we discussed Nicedey’s request that Stephanie and I come back. Some day we hope to. But we feel that the best way to remember the people in the village of Enguiki is not to visit them often, but to encourage others to visit them, and experience some of what we experienced today.

So come, if you can. If not here, then somewhere else. Next time there is a mission opportunity, ask yourself if you can make it work. And if the honest answer is yes, then come. Whether it is in Tanzania, India, the Philippines or elsewhere, come into the world, and meet people who need you to remember that they are there. Remembering them might just be a tremendous gift that you carry for the rest of your life.