It Takes a Village to Raise a Child

Written Tuesday evening August 19

I guess I should start off with some good news…..I do not have Malaria! Though I had a few days where I wasn’t quite feeling 100%, I have fully recovered now and am feeling back to normal. Whatever I had made its way through the CK office, as both Elizabeth and John (one of the Tanzanians who works with us) came down with similar symptoms only a few days after me. I think everyone is better now and thankfully no one was sick for more than a couple of days.

The group of 16 visitors from the diocese of New York has now been here for almost a week, and since their arrival our days have been filled from morning to night with scheduled events. The group is representative of five parishes from the NY diocese, all of which are linked with one or more parishes here through the Carpenters Kids program. The group is made up of 14 women and 2 men, most of whom are middle-aged. Three teenagers did accompany them, however, and there are two girls who were 17 and one who is 13. I think the group has really enjoyed their time here, though they have definitely had their share of bad luck. At least half of the group has been sick at some point from either the food or water, and everyday we were missing one or two people who were too ill to leave the hotel. Despite this and other hardships (including a car breakdown which left one group stranded for over an hour, many long and uncomfortable journeys, and a packed schedule) the group has remained in amazingly high spirits. Though I know myself and the rest of the CK staff are exhausted from all the work this week as well, it has definitely been wonderful having them here. We’ve all had a great time.

Much of our week was spent visiting the parishes around Dodoma which are sponsored by the five churches represented by the group. Each morning we would meet at the hotel and go off in groups of about 8 people to visit these various villages, and each group was made up of both NY visitors and CK staff. Just this week I have been to four villages, each of which are strikingly different and yet similar all at the same time. In each village I visited – which included the villages of Chamwino, Humekwa, Iringa Mvumi, and Mvumi Muungano – our car was met outside the village by large groups of people who were singing songs to welcome us. The group would then surround the car and lead us on our final leg of the journey to the church, which often was quite a far distance. Many times we would get out and walk with them, sharing in the celebration. Upon arrival we were taken into the pastor’s home and served chai (breakfast), which usually consisted of coffee and tea, chapatti (like a flour tortilla with more grease!), some kind of fried dough (almost like a doughnut hole), and occasionally some variety of meat as well. After finishing, we were taken on a short walk around the village and shown some of the homes of the CK children. Most of these homes are made of mud bricks and are extremely small. We went into the home of a little boy named Jackson in Iringa which consisted of two tiny rooms (about 10’x10’), the roof of which was about 5’ from the ground. All of these homes have dirt floors and no furniture apart from perhaps small wooden stools. The doors are made from twigs or pieces of scrap metal, and if there are windows they are usually very small and high off the ground. It is hard to imagine living in these tiny dark spaces, and even harder to imagine that entire families occupy them. It puts it into perspective to think that in the States a home of 2.000 square feet is thought to be quite small, and yet here there are families of four and five living in about 200 square feet. How’s that for size?!

We were also shown the water sources for the villages of Iringa and Mvumi Muungano, both of which were appalling. Iringa’s water source was basically a large hole which had been dug in the ground to collect water during the rainy season, while in Muungano the men were digging holes to find water deep enough under the ground, where it was then pulled up with buckets. Both of these sources produced extremely murky and dirty water, and yet the people use it for everything – including drinking. As I’ve mentioned before, the water here must be boiled to remove impurities before it can be consumed, and yet in the villages they often do not do this, resulting in a large number of illnesses. We take for granted being able to turn on the faucet at any moment and get clean water, but here clean water only comes in bottles, which are too expensive for them to buy.

Iringa-Mvumi was perhaps the most heart-wrenching visit I have experienced thus far. Not only did we visit the home of Jackson, who had two clubbed feet, but there were also other members of the village who elicited strong emotions as well. Out of the 50 Carpenters Kids in this parish, one child stood out blatantly from the rest. He wasn’t any shorter or smaller or skinnier than the others, but he was an albino. From the moment I saw him I could see the pain he struggles with everyday, and he seemed to shrink into himself as if it people would just look past him. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for this child to live in a place where everyone around him has dark skin, serving only to accentuate his situation. I have a cousin in the U.S. with this condition, and though I can’t speak for him, I believe that there this ailment is not given much thought. I, for one, just think of him as being a little paler than the rest of us, nothing more. It was clear there was more to it for this boy. He wore a baseball cap pulled down over his face and sunglasses to shield much of him from the sun, but painful sores were still visible on his cheeks. Whereas all the other children in the group were excited and bubbly, this one little boy sat with his head bent, constantly trying to cover his face with his hands. I don’t think I have ever wished I could speak Swahili more, because at that moment all I wanted to do was to be able to tell him how handsome I thought he was, so that maybe for a moment he might sit up a little straighter and join the fun around him. I can’t help but wonder what will happen to him as he gets older, and I hope he is able to find the self-esteem he is entitled to.

We also visited the home of another member of the village whose son had been sick for quite some time. The man asked if Rev. Ellen O’Hara, one of the priests from NY, would come in and say a prayer for him. We all filed into the small house and entered the room where his son was sleeping. The boy didn’t stir as we gathered around him and Rev. O’Hara gave her blessing, but I could tell that the form underneath the covers was extremely frail and thin. All that was visible was the top of his head and the outline of his hip and leg bones protruding though the thin blankets. When we asked the man how old his son was, I expected an age of 8 or 9 based on the size of the boy I’d seen in the bed. I wasn’t quite prepared when he replied that his son was 28 years old and was the father of 5 children. At that point it became clear that there is no getting better for this man, as no 28-year-old could look that way and survive for much longer. The children’s mother had already died, and their father is most likely soon to follow. It is children like these that the Carpenters Kids program aims to help, but it was overwhelming to be confronted with it head-on. I think this family needs many many prayers.

After being shown around the villages by the priest and members of the church, we would then gather with the Carpenters Kids and the village members for the distribution of gifts to the children. Sometimes we were outside and sometimes we were inside the church itself, and today there must have been about 700 people literally sitting on top of each other to join in the festivities. After introductions are made by the church staff and committees, the visitors are asked to introduce themselves. I finally mastered my introduction in Swahili today and was able to recite it with no help from my notes!
This is what I said:
Ninaitwa Sarah. Ninawalatea salaamu toka Kanisa la Neema katika Georgia, Marekani.
Nitafanya kazi ya Watoto wa Seremala kwa miezi nane. Nimefuraha kuwepo hapa na asenteni kutukaribisha.

Which means:
My name is Sarah. I bring you greetings from Grace Church in Georgia, America. I will be working for Carpenters Kids for eight months. I am happy to be here and I thank you for welcoming us.

I think the crowd was somewhat surprised to see a Mzungu stand up and speak in Swahili! After introductions the village presented us all with gifts. Men are given the royal treatment here, and each day the man with us was dressed up like a leader of a tribe. The women were given gifts of gourds, baskets, jewelry, peanuts, and Kangas (traditional fabric which they use as clothing). Following the presentation of our gifts, it was time for the NY visitors to distribute the gifts they brought for their Carpenters Kids and the church staff. The group I was with for much of the week gave out T-shirts, pencils, candy, and socks for the kids, while adults were given dish towels, I love NY T-shirts and hats, pens, and tote bags. Each village has a number of singing groups, and throughout each day we were constantly given performances. Many of the songs had been written especially for our visit, and each song was accompanied by dancing and drumming. Some of my favorite performances were by the Carpenters Kids, and as Miriam said, those kids have more rhythm in their pinky fingers than I do in my entire body!

After closing remarks and usually more singing and dancing, we were then served lunch. Rice, beans, some kind of stew with potatoes and meat, cabbage, and soft drinks are usually served, and there is TONS of it!! While all of the visitors prepare our plates with modest servings, the people here pile pounds of food on their plates, including the children. I am always amazed to see how much these kids can eat, and then I remember that this may be their one meal of the day. It is also likely that rice is somewhat of a treat for them, as they usually are fed Ugali, which is a traditional food here which I am told is between mashed potatoes and grits. While the Carpenters Kids have been included in the meal on our last two village visits, it has been hard to watch as the hundreds of other village children stand outside. It is clear they too are in need, though it isn’t yet possible for them to be included in the program. There are hopes to expand the program so that eventually every needy child in each parish can be included, but it will take time and money for this to become a reality.

After shaking hundreds of hands and extending our thanks for the hospitality we have been shown, the group finally loads up and hits the dusty trail back to Dodoma. Each day offers new insight into what the lives of these people must be like, and I think it has been wonderful for the NY group to see what they are supporting. The people here are so generous. They may not have much, but they give whole-heartedly what they do have. The children are remarkable as well. I have yet to see a child be reprimanded for misbehaving, and that isn’t because the parents don’t discipline them. I am amazed by how patient and well-behaved they are, and they can sit quietly for hours without complaining. I think this may have to do with the pace of life, as things run much slower here. In the U.S. everyone is in a rush to do everything and is constantly stressed out, which influences the way American children behave. Here, however, things happen as they happen, and as a result the children are willing to wait.

Tomorrow offers no break from the busy schedule, as we are off to Morogoro and to Mikumi National Park. I’ve been here only two weeks, and yet I will have already been on safari twice! Maybe we’ll get to see lions this time! After spending two nights in Morogoro we head to Dar es Salaam, where we will leave the NY group at the airport. The CK staff (we are ALL going on this little journey) will stay another night in Dar, returning to Dodoma on Saturday. The office will be closed until Thursday next week, so it will be nice to have a little time to breathe!

I have had a few questions about the food and the weather, so I will try to answer those. I think I have already explained what kind of food is served here, and most of it is pretty good. I thought I might come to Africa and starve, but I am finding this is definitely NOT the case! I feel as though we are constantly being fed, and I have probably eaten my weight in rice since I arrived. Practically everything we eat is carbs, and a lot of food is fried. I have been running more in the last week here than I did in the last month at home, which I feel is absolutely necessary to ensure I don’t come home having put on a few pounds! I am finding that the one thing I miss most from home is good salads, as they aren’t served here (not to mention you have to be careful about eating raw vegetables). I’ve tried a variety of mystery meat, and today John (TZ from our office) made me try some liver we were served at chai. Let’s just say I wasn’t a fan, and I will not be eating it again! Unlike the NY clan, though, I’ve been lucky enough not to get sick from any of the food here, and I’m crossing my fingers that it stays that way.

The weather is quite nice here at the moment, though mornings and evenings can be pretty cold. (50s) It is winter now, so I’m trying to enjoy what little relief there is from the heat before it gets really hot in a month or two. It warms up a lot during the day, but without the humidity of Georgia it is much more bearable. It is extremely dry and the rainy season doesn’t start until November, at which point I’m told everything in sight turns green. I’m looking forward to seeing that!

I have also met Bishop Mdimi Mhogolo, and from what I can tell he is a very charismatic and wonderful man. He has great ideas about plans for the diocese, and he is very informed about his people and what is happening around Dodoma. One point I feel I must make about him, however, is that he is definitely not a man of few words. I have been in his company a few times now where he has been given the opportunity to speak, and his intentionally short speeches are usually quite long. He is in fact a man of many, many, many words. And when you think he’s done, he throws in a few hundred more just for good measure! I think everyone finds it quite humorous actually, and they know that when Bp. Mdimi has the floor, you better settle in your seat. You might be there a while!

I apologize for the extreme length of this post, but I feel I had a lot to write about. I’ve been hoarding all these thoughts that I intended to write out, so hopefully I got them all! I’ve just hit the two week mark of being in Dodoma as of today, but in terms of what I’ve experienced it feels like a lifetime. It will be interesting to see how time changes as I grow more accustomed to being here. I think it will get easier when I feel like I am no longer a visitor, though how long that will take I’m not sure. Only time will tell, and I guess I’ll have to wait and find out.