'Ups and Downs'

Second Post

dated Sunday, July 30th, 2007.

'Ups and Downs'

Language Acquisition training and Basic Orientation are done, and we now have a week at home full time (we've been living here, but walking over to Timo's everyday for LAMP) to get settled in and make our houses our homes. We've been spread out over two villages that kinda overlap (most other sizeable Zaramo villages are isolated in the midst of forest), so we're all within walking distance of each other. Jeremy and I actually live in this great location, about 50 metres from the village centre. The village centre is this circle where three mud roads meet, and there's little shops (Dukkas) at the corners. Around 2 mins down the one road is also Mzenga's main market area, where we can get lots of salt-fish, tomatoes, onions, and coconuts. Depending on the season, at times we can also get all kinds of other fruit and vegetables (bananas, papayas, pineapples, garlick, watermelons, okra, etc, etc). The elders of the village also usually hang out at the market, while the young men usually hang out by the circle, near our place. Some of the dukkas also sell pop, chappatis (local-made flatbread), mandazi (deep fried lumps of slightly-sweetened dough), shovels and other tools, bicycle parts, etc, so we're hooked up.

Accross the street from our place is the local primary school- the students are taught Swahili, the national language; but there's no written form of Kizaramo, so while they speak it, they're kinda becoming ashamed of it and will try and stick to the Swahili. The older people are the ones who're really proud of their heritage- they're the ones from whom we're learning the purer KiZaramo, unadulterated by any Swahili.

Around 5 minutes from where we live, but still in the same village (Mzenga), are the Couches, the family from Cobourg, thus making Mzenga the Canadian-colonized village (my roomate Jeremy is from BC). Mitengwe is around 1 km away, and that's the American-colonized village. The Tanners would be around a 25 min walk away, the Kerrs would be around 45 mins, and the girls I think around 50 mins or so, but we've never actually walked out to the girls' place, cos it isn't very culturally appropriate for us to visit them alone (without a family to chaperone). Interesting times!

Adjusting to our new lives hasn't been the easiest. Cultural changes aside, just the change in lifestyle's been enormous- the kind of stuff you wouldn't mind living with for a while if you were going camping, or were away short-term, but realizing every time that this is it for the relatively-long haul is a little disheartening. I miss switching the lights on (kerosene lamps aren't the same), being able to walk in the dark without fear of what I may be stepping on, being able to pick up an item of clothing and put it on without having to shake it out well first, or drinking cold milk (or anything cold for that matter). Added to that is the fact that the task ahead of us seems so huge- to learn an entirely new language, and then translate the gospel, and then begin evangelizing a whole people-group... it's daunting. I think all of us have, at one point or another, asked ourselves what in the world we're doing out here, in the middle of nowhere. Without a strong call it would have been so easy to want to give up. With a strong call i've still wanted to cry (you were right Sarah!), and all of the girls have I think; but it helps so much to know that God called us here for a purpose, and He makes no mistakes. All we have to do is to follow Him and proclaim His Gospel, He's the one doing the big stuff. Romans 5:3-5 helps too (I just read it this morning). Even here, in the middle of nowhere, God has been waiting for so long. He yearns to be glorified and reconciled with the Zaramo- and to fill their heart with joy.

If it isn't easy for me though, I would imagine it would be a lot harder for the families, who have to do and cope with everything I have to, and also take care of, parent, and homeschool their kids; all the while dealing with their kids' cultural shock and all the ways that manifests itself. Or the single girls, who have no Jeremy (my roomate) to kill their mice, scorpions, and spiders (the girls don't like spiders); who are a lot more restricted in their movements; who have to endure catcalls, teasing, and marriage proposals when they walk through the markets, etc. I would certainly appreciate your prayer for our team as we adjust, but you can praise God with me for our unity and love for each other, which I know you've prayed for and which so far has been solid.

On a more uplifting note, we've been walking around meeting our neighbours and nodding while they speak at us (we don't understand anything). So behind our home we met this man whose grandson speaks some English, and he translated for us. The gentleman's name is Mzei Rubilatti (Mzei being an honorific title used for older men). So when Mzei R met Jeremy and I, he told us (through his grandson), that his eyes were really hurting him, and he asked us if we had any medicine we could give him. Not being doctors, we could neither diagnose, nor treat him, and we certainly had no medicine, but we offered to pray for him. So he agreed! We prayed for his healing, and then his grandson (Yaha) also wanted us to pray for him- he'd been suffering from some fevers for the last month or so, so we did. Then his wife, Mama Rubilatti, wanted us to pray for her malaria. And then they asked us to come back every day and pray for them! So we've been doing that, and I'd appreciate your prayers for them also- their healing would be a powerful testimony to this village.

So that's mostly what we've been doing lately- walking around and meeting (and getting laughed at by) all the people around. I don't think they mean to mock us though, it's just probably pretty funny to see strange-looking grown people who can't speak more than a few words and can't understand anything. And also who look quite funny. In the midst of all the laughter, we've had a few infants and toddlers bawl when they saw their first white person.

Oh, I've also met and hung out with the young men of the village. One of them, named Ali, speaks English and KiSwahili (but no Kizaramo), so he's been translating for us, and that's been great.

On a different note- Jeremy, who doesn't close the door when he showers or when he uses the washroom (at all!), just walked into my room in his tighty-whiteys. When he learned that I'd typed this though, he went out and changed into his boxers and has been prancing around in them, asking me to strike out the word tighty-whitey from this missile (behold the power of the press- making grown men quiver and quake in their tighty-whiteys), but I shall endure no censure! Tighty-whitey shall remain. He's given up and has headed out for his shower.

The showers here have been... interesting. They're showers only in name of course, we don't actually have plumbing. We basically fill up a basin with water, and use this little 400 ml 'pouring cup' to pour cold water all over (being real men, we haven't actually ever heated the water. The water being really cold, we often scream like little girls when we pour the first cup on our heads/torsos). We then soap up and rinse off, once again with the pouring cup.

Now I take my time- the cold water is really cooling, so I usually shower before going to bed. Jeremy, however, has taken the limited water situation as a personal challenge, and tries to shower within 2 litres of water (we're not actually THAT limited, we have two 3000 litre tanks to last us till the small rains in November. Next year we'll be more limited, we'll have the same ammount of water, but will have to stretch it from June to Nov). I often hear him grunt as he tries to scratch a dry soap bar onto dry skin. It's very sad...

And with that, I should say goodbye. Jeremy's out (and apparently all chafed from the dry soap) and the time has come for me to take my shower, and then head to bed. It's past 11pm, and this is actually the latest we've ever been up here (we wake up early, the first rooster crows around 4:30/5, and various others follow it at intermittent times). Please continue to keep us in your prayer, and may God be glorified through our being here!

For His greater glory.