d them inside gathering their bags and making their way towards us. Needless to say, there were a few tears shed by my mom and I and some chuckling from Dad and Liz as they ridiculed us, but it was definitely a happy reunion for all! We gathered their bags and made our way to the waiting taxi for the ride back to the hotel, where we spent a few minutes catching up before I left them to get some rest after their long travels. I was glad they had arrived, and aside from a few missing earrings and an iPod that were stolen out of their checked luggage, they arrived safe, sound, and happy to be in Africa. The next few days were spent in Dar es Salaam, and Dad probably got in a little more shopping than he bargained for! We visited Slipway, the modern Western-style shopping center, and enjoyed browsing through the stores. We also made our way through the intricate maze of craft sellers set up outside the main shopping center, picking up things here and there along the way. Leane, who was also in Dar after dropping off her son at the airport, met us for lunch, and it was nice to introduce my parents to my surrogate “mama”! The rest of our days in Dar were filled with a visit to Tinga Tinga alley to order a few more pairs of sandals from Clement, a trip to the National Museum, and of course visiting all the churches within the city center for dad. On New Year’s Eve (also Mom’s Birthday), we attended a celebration held by our hotel. Upon entering the room we were all given coconuts with straws and led to our table. A h
uge buffet of starters, main courses, and desserts were served, and we ate while watching the entertainment for the evening. Traditional Tanzanian dancers, a comic show, a balancing act, a fire-eater, and a live band performed throughout the night, right up to the countdown to midnight. As the New Year arrived, everyone in the room moved around, saying “Mwaka Mpya” (“Happy New Year”) and exchanging hand shakes. It was wonderful to be able to bring in the New Year with my parents, and we all realized what a special day it was.The following day the four of us boarded yet another Scandinavia bus for the trip to Dodoma. Though I had warned my parents that it was not the most enjoyable of trips, they were seemingly surprised to find it wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be! (In my defense, I will admit that it was one of the more pleasant journeys I have made thus far.) My parents were both curious to see what Dodoma was like, especially after Dad read in the Lonely Planet guidebook that “There’s little reason to come to Dodoma, but if you find yourself here it’s not a bad place to spend a day or two. With it’s grandiose street layout and the imposing architecture of many church and government buildings – all sharply contrasting with the slow-paced reality of daily life – it’s easy to get the feeling that the town is dressed in clothes that are several sizes too big.” Despite these not-so-glamorous ravings, I was nevertheless excited to show them the place I’ve called home for the past 6 months. After arriving in Dodoma that evening, we dropped Liz at her compound and made our way up the road to my humble little home. Leane had continued her travels after meeting us in Dar es Salaam, and thus she had offered her apartment for my parents to stay in. Not only did this save us the expense of booking rooms at the Dodoma Hotel, but it also meant that my parents were only a few steps away, which proved to be extremely convenient. Since my house was devoid of anything to eat, we made our way to the Dodoma Hotel for dinner. On the way we passed a group of children wandering down the street, and they were all eager to greet us. I watched as each one of them waited their turn to shake my parents’ hands, and I couldn’t help but feel grateful for these sweet little children! It was a touching moment, and one which made me realize how happy I was to share my new adventures with them. For once I didn’t have my camera on hand, which I very much regretted! After returning home that evening, we all turned in early from the exhaustion of our long day and to rest up for the tour of Dodoma that was to come.
After we finally got ourselves up, dressed, and ready for the day, lunchtime was quickly approaching. I took this opportunity to introduce my parents to Rose’s Café and the wonderful Indian cooking that I’ve come to love during my time here. After enjoying yet another great meal, we set off to explore Dodoma. I pointed out Mackay House, the home of The Carpenter’s Kids office, walked them down One Way Street, lined on both sides with shops filled with a variety of goods pouring into the streets, and led them through the acrid scents of the Dodoma market. We filled up on produce for the beginnings of a home-cooked meal, after which we stopped by Super Dealer to stock up on the rest. Mnaze, the owner of the store, gave us a complimentary bottle of wine in celebration of my parents’ visit and we headed back home, our arms full of the day’s purchases. The three of us shared a nice dinner before crowding around my laptop to watch one of the new dvds they brought with them, and it was nice to be able to relax and enjoy their company.
The following morning I decided my parents needed to get the grand view of Dodoma, and thus we set off to climb Lion Rock. After reaching the hotel in town and spending five minutes trying to explain to a taxi driver where we wanted to go, I decided in my stubbornness that they were charging us too much. Thus, we set out on foot, thinking that we would just get in a bit more exercise by walking the whole way. I began to lead us towards Lion Rock which was visible in the distance, but after about 45 minutes of walking we realized that I had, in fact, taken the wrong road. We then had to hunt down a taxi and spend the next 10 minutes pointing to the hill in the distance, once again trying to explain where it was we wanted to go. Obviously, Tanzanians do not frequ
ently ask for taxis to go to Lion Rock! So, finally, over an hour after leaving home, we arrived at the foot of Lion Rock and began to wind out way up the steep path. We stopped at various points along the way to take in the view, and finally made it to the summit. After enjoying the view at the top and fearing sunburn if we stayed much longer, we climbed back down and set off down the road in search of another taxi. We stopped in town to treat ourselves to ice cream, picked up some to take home, and walked for another 30 minutes before finally arriving back at the compound. Needless to say, we spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around my house, our legs aching from all the walking we had done that day!The following day was Sunday, and Pastor Noah had invited us to attend his church service at Chadulu. Liz accompanied my parents and me to the unfinished church building on the edge of town, and Dad vested up to participate in leading the service with Pastor Noah. The two of them made quite a distinct pair, and their height meant they towered above much of the congregation. Liz, Mom, and I each followed a reading in Swahili with one in English for the first and second readings and The Gospel, and Pastor Noah pointed out a few areas throughout the s
ervice which Dad was meant to read in Swahili. Though he had been practicing a few basic words here and there, some of the sentences were a bit much to handle and left him wondering whether he was even understood! (He thus spent the next few days trying to master these phrases.) Eventually it was time for us to introduce ourselves, and Pastor Noah helped translate my parents’ speeches. The congregation was extremely warm and welcoming, and my parents were presented with Masai robes as gifts. My dad had not come empty-handed, and he presented Pastor Noah with a vestment stole brought from the U.S. After Pastor Noah and my dad served communion to the congregation, blessed a youth choir entering in a competition, and several of the parish’s musical groups performed, the service was brought to a close. I always enjoy watching my father at work, but there was something special about watching him join with Pastor Noah to lead the service. After the service ended, Dad and Pastor Noah were surrounded by parishioners and children, and Dad entertained them by beating out a rhythm on one of the homemade drums, reminiscent of his days spent as drum major at Riverwood High School in Atlanta. Before leaving we stood to welcome the mile-long reception line and hand shakes that are a vital part of every church service in Tanzania, and the whole experience would not have been complete without it!On Tuesday, Pastor Noah planned a special visit for us to Ndebwe, one of The Carpenter’s Kids villages. Since there were no distributions during their visit for my parents to attend, Pastor Noah kindly offered to organize a visit so that they could experience the work of the program. After driving for over an hour we arrived at the parish church, amazed to find that several hundred people were there to welcome us. The Carpenter’s Kids, the program committee members, and the parish staff sat at the front of the church, followed by several singing groups, parents and guardians, congregation members, and members of the village itself. The turnout rivaled that of an actual CK distribution, and I couldn’t believe that all these people had showed up on a Tuesday morning just to welcome us. The church was filled with people, and those that couldn’t fit inside peered in the windows from outside. We sat at the front of the church as The Carpenter’s Kids and other singing groups performed, and then listened intently as the parish priest gave a touching speech. The depth of emotion in his words meant that the three of us were soon holding back tears, and the speaker himself claimed that he must stop speaking for fear that he himself would begin to weep. In an email home Dad told of our visit:
“Today, we visited a village church about an hour outside of the city. As you can imagine, it's not typical for there to be a church gathering on a Tuesday morning, but some 300 people of every age filled the church (also with walls but no roof yet) simply to welcome Sarah, Judi and me. Their amazing welcome and the wonderful words of the parish priest brought tears to our eyes: "Our American friends have come a great distance and at great expense to show their concern and care for our children. Don't you believe anyone who says unkind and untrue things about Americans. We can't go to America; none of us can afford it. But today we have seen America. Today we have tested America. And we have discovered that Americans are not only our friends, but also our brothers and sisters." Obviously, today is one that Judi, Sarah and I will never forget.”
It was, indeed, a day that I will never forget. Though visiting the village parishes is a frequent occurrence working for the program, weekend after weekend of visits had jaded my appreciation of how special they are. Being in Ndebwe with my parents, however, meant that it was like visiting one for the very first time, and I was glad that my eyes had once again been opened to appreciate my time and experiences in Tanzania. After distributing some soap that Pastor Noah had brought along for The Carpenter’s Kids and extending our sincere thanks to everyone that had come out to welcome us, the parish priest and committee members served us lunch. This was further proof of how welcoming these people really are; we had come with no purpose other than to visit their parish and yet they went out of their way to welcome us and to make us feel at home. Our hearts were full as we said our goodbyes and headed back to Dodoma, and we shared the realization that what we had just experienced was something we would cherish forever.
That evening, Pastor Noah invited us to have dinner with his family at his home. I baked a cake and we took along ice cream as a contribution to the wonderful meal which Pastor Noah’s wife, Mollen, had prepared. My parents, Liz, me, two of Pastor Noah’s daughters and his live-in grand daughter, Lisa, also joined us, and we enjoyed eating and sharing differing aspects of the U.S. and Tanzania. At one point Pastor Noah thanked my parents for allowing me (and Liz) to come to Tanzania to work with him. I found myself deeply touched by kind words for the second time that day, as he told them, “You have planted the seed, but we are bearing the fruits.” At that moment I couldn’t have been more thankful for my parents and the wonderful upbringing they have provided me with for the last 22 years. If not for them I wouldn’t be here, and their visit had continually reinforced what a special time these eight months would be in my life. After eating more than we could bear and preparing to say our goodbyes, Pastor Noah asked us to wait for one more minute. He disappeared into the back of the house and returned, asking my parents to stand. My dad was presented with a fully beaded warrior’s stick which was about 12” long and encased in a diagonal pattern of green and yellow beads. My mom was then wrapped in a two-piece traditional African outfit, embroidered all over with beautiful beadwork and sequins. Pastor Noah’s wife, Mollen, had made both of these gifts herself, and my parents and I were extremely touched by this show of generosity. We expressed our thanks and walked home, our hearts and minds overflowing by the extreme kindness we had been shown that day.
The next day started early and the three of us once again found ourselves on a bus at 6am to head for Mikumi National Park. The 6am departure time soon turned into 7, but eventually we were heading out of Dodoma and were on our way. About 5 hours later we were finally dropped off at the gates to our hotel, relieved to be out of the cramped bus. We spent the rest of the day relaxing in our rooms and preparing for yet another early morning the following day.
We set out with a driver at 6:30am for the 30 minute drive into Mikumi, and the open-aired old Land Cruiser – though extremely slow – afforded many views of wildlife before we even entered the park. I expressed to our guide that I had been to Mikumi twice before without seeing any lions, and thus he made it his goal for the day to search for them. After winding through the park and seeing all the normal assortment of animals – elephants, giraffes, water buffaloes, hippos, monkeys, zebra, warthogs – we finally heard news from a passing vehicle that lions were nearby. After a bit more searching we finally found them. Two male lions and one female lay dozing in the grass, surrounded by three vehicles full of tourists with cameras at-the-ready. One male and female finally grew tired of being
so closely watched, and with a few disgruntled roars they headed off to find a more private sleeping spot. The goal of my trip had been accomplished long before lunch time, and we were lucky to have seen them. The afternoon proved to be a bit sparse in terms of animal sightings, as the heat keeps the animals hiding off in the shade. We arrived back at the hotel nearly twelve hours after leaving it that morning, and we came to the unanimous decision that a half-day’s drive would have been plenty! Nevertheless, we enjoyed our trip, and I told my parents they could check off the must-do when visiting Tanzania: the safari!
After yet another long and very cramped bus ride the next morning, we found ourselves back at the Peacock Hotel in Dar es Salaam. Our final days together were spent visiting the main shopping sights (again!) to pick up a few final souvenirs, and generally enjoying each others’ company. On our final night I took them to the rooftop bar of The Kilimanjaro Hotel, the classy place that Magi and I had discovered on a previous trip. We enjoyed a few drinks while reminiscing about the highlights of their visit, and with some reluctance we eventually returned to the hotel. Since their flight wasn’t until 11pm the following day, it was decided that I would leave on the bus back to Dodoma earlier in the day so they would know I made it home before getting on their flight. We took a taxi to the bus station and said our goodbyes, offering reassurances that I would see them less than 3 months later. As I waved out the window and the bus pulled out of sight, I was amazed that their two week visit had already come to an end. We fit an great deal of things into their time here, and I was confident that I had given them a pretty good taste of what Tanzania is like. I was so thankful they had come, and though it was hard not to want to climb in their suitcases and go home with them, I was glad for the opportunity to spend some time with them. Their visit allowed me to take a fresh look at this beautiful country and its wonderful people, and I couldn’t be more thankful for that.
so closely watched, and with a few disgruntled roars they headed off to find a more private sleeping spot. The goal of my trip had been accomplished long before lunch time, and we were lucky to have seen them. The afternoon proved to be a bit sparse in terms of animal sightings, as the heat keeps the animals hiding off in the shade. We arrived back at the hotel nearly twelve hours after leaving it that morning, and we came to the unanimous decision that a half-day’s drive would have been plenty! Nevertheless, we enjoyed our trip, and I told my parents they could check off the must-do when visiting Tanzania: the safari!After yet another long and very cramped bus ride the next morning, we found ourselves back at the Peacock Hotel in Dar es Salaam. Our final days together were spent visiting the main shopping sights (again!) to pick up a few final souvenirs, and generally enjoying each others’ company. On our final night I took them to the rooftop bar of The Kilimanjaro Hotel, the classy place that Magi and I had discovered on a previous trip. We enjoyed a few drinks while reminiscing about the highlights of their visit, and with some reluctance we eventually returned to the hotel. Since their flight wasn’t until 11pm the following day, it was decided that I would leave on the bus back to Dodoma earlier in the day so they would know I made it home before getting on their flight. We took a taxi to the bus station and said our goodbyes, offering reassurances that I would see them less than 3 months later. As I waved out the window and the bus pulled out of sight, I was amazed that their two week visit had already come to an end. We fit an great deal of things into their time here, and I was confident that I had given them a pretty good taste of what Tanzania is like. I was so thankful they had come, and though it was hard not to want to climb in their suitcases and go home with them, I was glad for the opportunity to spend some time with them. Their visit allowed me to take a fresh look at this beautiful country and its wonderful people, and I couldn’t be more thankful for that.
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Three weeks have passed now since my parents returned home, and these few weeks have flown by. The past few weeks in the office have been spent catching up and preparing for the busy events of the coming year, most of which I will not be here to witness, a fact which Liz is not thrilled about! Maaike and Liaane have packed their bags and left Dodoma as well, but thankfully I didn’t have to say goodbye to them quite yet. I have rearranged my return flight schedule to accommodate a one week stay with them in Holland on my way home, and I am already looking forward to my visit. Many newcomers have arrived in Dodoma in the past week as well, and our compound alone has gained three new volunteers. Angela, from the UK, will be working as the principal at CAMS until the full-time one returns from a three-month visit to New Zealand, Linda is working as a teacher at CAMS for two years, and two 19-year-old girls named Leila and Charlotte from the UK are here to work as teacher’s aides for the next 10 weeks. I was excited to have a few new young girls to fill the void left by Maaike and Lianne, and they are already proving to be a lot of fun. In certain aspects it seems as though I arrived here only a few months ago, but as I am coming up on the six month mark I also realize all the wonderful things I have had the opportunity to experience thus far. I know the next ten weeks will be filled with more opportunities and new experiences, and before I know it I’ll be home, looking back on the eight months that seemed to go by so fast.
Three weeks have passed now since my parents returned home, and these few weeks have flown by. The past few weeks in the office have been spent catching up and preparing for the busy events of the coming year, most of which I will not be here to witness, a fact which Liz is not thrilled about! Maaike and Liaane have packed their bags and left Dodoma as well, but thankfully I didn’t have to say goodbye to them quite yet. I have rearranged my return flight schedule to accommodate a one week stay with them in Holland on my way home, and I am already looking forward to my visit. Many newcomers have arrived in Dodoma in the past week as well, and our compound alone has gained three new volunteers. Angela, from the UK, will be working as the principal at CAMS until the full-time one returns from a three-month visit to New Zealand, Linda is working as a teacher at CAMS for two years, and two 19-year-old girls named Leila and Charlotte from the UK are here to work as teacher’s aides for the next 10 weeks. I was excited to have a few new young girls to fill the void left by Maaike and Lianne, and they are already proving to be a lot of fun. In certain aspects it seems as though I arrived here only a few months ago, but as I am coming up on the six month mark I also realize all the wonderful things I have had the opportunity to experience thus far. I know the next ten weeks will be filled with more opportunities and new experiences, and before I know it I’ll be home, looking back on the eight months that seemed to go by so fast.
