3-March-2008
Bruce Lothrop
It’s been a week now, and the “hands on” portion of our mission work is complete. Our real work has in many ways just started, but for the moment, it’s time to sit back and enjoy the natural wonder of Africa.
Last night we went on a drive in Tarangire National Park. We’ve saw lions, gazelle, giraffes, and herds of elephants. It was truly incredible, and the next few days should bring more of the same.
During the first week, I spent much of my time with a laptop in my backpack and a flash drive in my pocket, hoping to find access to a wireless signal or a desktop with a connection somewhere, or at least an outlet to charge the batteries. I’ve stayed up late downloading and shrinking photos to be posted to the blog (sorry I couldn’t load up more, I know they’re important). Having answered that call, and being in possession of our only remaining laptop, I will steal the opportunity to sneak in one more blog entry, with some final thoughts about our mission work. I think I’ve earned it.
This morning we celebrated the Lords Supper under a Baobab tree with David and Uni Simonson, and Mark and Linda Jacobson, Timi, and Nanyoke. David and Uni have been missionaries in Tanzania for over fifty years, and started Maasae Girls Lutheran Secondary School. Mark Jacobson is the director of Salian hospital, and considers himself a missionary first and a doctor second. Timi and Nanyoke read scripture in Kiswahili, and Rhodes read in English. We sat in a circle during the service. Rhodes served the bread and the cup to Timi, who served it to Jack, who served David Simonson, and so forth around the circle.
We don’t celebrate the Lord’s Supper outdoors often enough. To celebrate in all of God’s glory, with a small group of people can be far more meaningful than celebrating with the largest throngs in the most beautiful Cathedral. Three such experiences come to mind: Worshiping as teenager in the mountains of New Hampshire, my wedding on the shores of Deep Creek Lake ten years ago, and today, under the Boabob tree. This morning we saw God’s glory in exceeding abundance, with a view of the savanna spread out before us. There were elephants.
I’ve been reflecting on the week past. We’ve seen both wonderful and terrible things. We’ve seen Maasae warriors dance and sing. We’ve seen villages with no clean water, with leaders that are unable to address the problems. We’ve seen choirs in amazing finery, decorated from head to foot, sing praises to God in exotic harmonies and rhythms that astound and lift the soul. We’ve visited people in terrible poverty living with HIV and TB whose condition if known, could cause them to be ostracized from their community. We’ve seen elephants play.
The most important thing we have seen this week is people of profound faith and courage who bring hope to the most troubled people in this land. People like Mark Jacobson and the doctors at Salian who save lives, always explicitly working the name of Jesus Christ. People like Jean, Marv, and the teachers and staff at MGLSS, who teach and lead with joy in their hearts, always celebrating God. (If you ever have a chance to have coffee with Jean and Marv, clear your calendar: It’s worth it). People like David and Uni Simonson who radiate Faith and Love every second. In our small effort here, we see what it is like to “Stand on the Shoulders of Giants”. What others do here is possible because of the paths that David and Uni blazed. Most important are the young Maasae who do great work, and prepare a brighter future for their country. Richard, the doctor who travels into remote bomas to examine sick children, and encourages their families to accept treatment. Paulina, the nurse who hikes through the hills (in a skirt) to visit with HIV and TB patients to insure that they have food, and take their medication. The dozens of volunteers in the bomas who help Paulina identify cases that need her attention. Timi, who was raised in a boma, and today is a doctor, respected in his community and prepared to become a leader among his people. Nanyoke, who broke with tradition at great personal risk, educating herself at MGLSS, and is in medical school today. She too will be a respected leader among the Maasae one day. All of these people are filled with courage and faith that awes and inspires us, and we hope, through the pale reflection of our words, inspires you as well. The hope for Tanzania, for our world, and for ourselves is that we can form partnerships with such strong people and accomplish some part of God’s will.
So now we go into the bush for a few days, and digest all we have seen and heard. We will experience the astounding beauty of God’s creation in Africa, and begin to prepare for the next step of our misson, for the end of our journey will be barely the beginning of our mission. Pray for us in our travels, and pray for our friends here in Tanzania.
See you next Sunday at worship (we’ll be the ones who are exhausted).
Peace be with you.
-Bruce
Sunday, March 2, 2008
On Friday afternoon the team, accompanied by our new friend Darlene (a volunteer from Minnesota working in the library at MGLSS), drove into the hills to visit with Timi at his family farm. Timi is a you Maasae man who has just complete medical school, and will begin work at Salian hospital in the fall. Bethel Lutheran supported Timi through medical school, and Jack McAllister has been a mentor to Timi. Timi calls Jack Baboo, which means grandfather.
Timi and his mother no longer live on the farm full time, but, according the Maasae tradition, it is still run by the extended family. The farmhouse is a small concrete structure high on a hill, with stunning views all around. On the hill, the family grows corn, and keeps livestock. The fields are plowed each year with a rented tractor, except in places where the land is too steep, and must be tilled by hand. By local standards, Timi’s family is doing quite well.
When we arrived Timi and his mother greeted us quite warmly. The Maasae are an incredibly proud people. Add to that a mother showing off her son who just graduated from medical school… that may have been the proudest Mama in the world. We were all hugged and thanked until we were worn out.
Then Timi’s friends arrived. A group of about a dozen you men in their mid twenties, dressed in bright red shukas (Maasae robes) armed with rods and machetes, and wearing a dazzling array of beads march up the hill. The leader carried a large spear topped with a ball of black osterige feather. One warrior played a three-foot long horn. Not like a trumpet: an actual animal horn. The group chanted and sang, making sounds I hadn’t imagined humans making before. For about fifteen minutes, the warriors marched and sang around the small yard at Timi’s farm, with those of us observing constantly dodging out of the way. I’m pretty sure they would have marched over us if necessary.
The marching complete, the warriors then engaged in ceremonial dance with a group of you women, also in traditional Maasae dress. The men lined up on one side of the yard, the women on the other. The men continued to chant and sing. The women looked on as if unimpressed. According the translation we received, the men first sang about being Maasae warriors, and having no fear. Next they sang a spiritual song, praising God. Then, one or two at a time would step forward and begin to bounce. Each warrior would spend about thirty seconds in the center of the yard leaping straight into the air, as high as possible, in an effort to demonstrate his physical strength. When a warrior performed well, his mates would hold their rods in the air, and the jumper would tap them with his rod. Picture it as a Maasae “high five”. Towards the end of the dance the women began to sing as well, which signified that they were suitably impressed with the strength of the warriors.
After the dance of the warriors we toured the village. We saw a series of springs that provide only dirty water. The more affluent members of the village carry water in from elsewhere. The poor have no choice. We hope that with Timi’s assistance, Bethel may be able to aid the village in drilling a clean will. We saw the cow herds, that represent the villages wealth and prosperity. They are still guarded by you mean who carry spears to fight off predators.
We returned to the Timi’s home where Moma had prepared a large meal of rice, fruit chicken, vegetables curry, and bean. There was plenty of food, and lots of fellowship.
After the meal, Timi’s mother presented each member of the team with a shuka and a huge hug. Each member of the team was also allowed to hold the rod carried by Maasae men. That signified continuing welcome: All of us are considered friends who are welcome in the village forever.
It’s six in the morning now, and I woke up early to watch the sunrise, and tell this story. I hope to have a brief chance at the internet soon, and I wanted to share this with you folks back at Bethel. Although we were the representatives that directly received the gratitude of the family, it was properly meant for all of you. All of you supported Timi through out his schooling and helped a very impressive young man reach his potential in a place that desperately needs him. Please know that you work was very well done, and that gratitude from those you have helped is overwhelming.
Timi and his mother no longer live on the farm full time, but, according the Maasae tradition, it is still run by the extended family. The farmhouse is a small concrete structure high on a hill, with stunning views all around. On the hill, the family grows corn, and keeps livestock. The fields are plowed each year with a rented tractor, except in places where the land is too steep, and must be tilled by hand. By local standards, Timi’s family is doing quite well.
When we arrived Timi and his mother greeted us quite warmly. The Maasae are an incredibly proud people. Add to that a mother showing off her son who just graduated from medical school… that may have been the proudest Mama in the world. We were all hugged and thanked until we were worn out.
Then Timi’s friends arrived. A group of about a dozen you men in their mid twenties, dressed in bright red shukas (Maasae robes) armed with rods and machetes, and wearing a dazzling array of beads march up the hill. The leader carried a large spear topped with a ball of black osterige feather. One warrior played a three-foot long horn. Not like a trumpet: an actual animal horn. The group chanted and sang, making sounds I hadn’t imagined humans making before. For about fifteen minutes, the warriors marched and sang around the small yard at Timi’s farm, with those of us observing constantly dodging out of the way. I’m pretty sure they would have marched over us if necessary.
The marching complete, the warriors then engaged in ceremonial dance with a group of you women, also in traditional Maasae dress. The men lined up on one side of the yard, the women on the other. The men continued to chant and sing. The women looked on as if unimpressed. According the translation we received, the men first sang about being Maasae warriors, and having no fear. Next they sang a spiritual song, praising God. Then, one or two at a time would step forward and begin to bounce. Each warrior would spend about thirty seconds in the center of the yard leaping straight into the air, as high as possible, in an effort to demonstrate his physical strength. When a warrior performed well, his mates would hold their rods in the air, and the jumper would tap them with his rod. Picture it as a Maasae “high five”. Towards the end of the dance the women began to sing as well, which signified that they were suitably impressed with the strength of the warriors.
After the dance of the warriors we toured the village. We saw a series of springs that provide only dirty water. The more affluent members of the village carry water in from elsewhere. The poor have no choice. We hope that with Timi’s assistance, Bethel may be able to aid the village in drilling a clean will. We saw the cow herds, that represent the villages wealth and prosperity. They are still guarded by you mean who carry spears to fight off predators.
We returned to the Timi’s home where Moma had prepared a large meal of rice, fruit chicken, vegetables curry, and bean. There was plenty of food, and lots of fellowship.
After the meal, Timi’s mother presented each member of the team with a shuka and a huge hug. Each member of the team was also allowed to hold the rod carried by Maasae men. That signified continuing welcome: All of us are considered friends who are welcome in the village forever.
It’s six in the morning now, and I woke up early to watch the sunrise, and tell this story. I hope to have a brief chance at the internet soon, and I wanted to share this with you folks back at Bethel. Although we were the representatives that directly received the gratitude of the family, it was properly meant for all of you. All of you supported Timi through out his schooling and helped a very impressive young man reach his potential in a place that desperately needs him. Please know that you work was very well done, and that gratitude from those you have helped is overwhelming.
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