First Days of School

Our team's homeschool co-op kicked off Monday, September 20.  The kids were so excited--and so was I! In fact, everyone involved seems to be enjoying themselves, from preschoolers to parents.  We expected a pretty crazy start.  Any first week of school is crazy, but this was brand new for all of us.  I, for one, was amazed by how well things went!  My students came ready to learn... eager to work, even!  All the kids are thrilled to have school together.

Most of these pictures were taken in the first couple days of school.  (We had two "first days":  School started on that Monday, and the twice-a-week preschool started on Tuesday.)  Welcome to Lake Victoria Learning Center!

These are the six daily students, representing three of our families.

The school entrance.  (Thanks to Michael for the panorama shots!)

Our school building at the front of the property.

(My house in right background, guards' shed in left.)

The first classroom is the domain of our oldest students: Tirzah (age 12) and sisters Kira (10) & Lianne (8).  Their moms teach most of their classes (pictured here is Tara Wimbush), but I get them twice a week for science!

Here are the girls at their brand-new (finished in time for the second day of school) desks.  Teacher Chris Gilmore is also the artist who gave each classroom a special paint job while I was gone.  The two trees framing the window in this room were the product of a special mother-daughter date.

The preschool room got racing stripes!  Here are parents Keren Brewerton, Kelly Nicholls, and Dorien Kamphuis.  (Kim Hill and Mitchell Wimbush also supervise this group.)  Students are Luke (3), Jack (3), Ben (3), Jessica (4), and barely-visible Michaja (4).

This is the room where I spend most of my time--the carnival!  Keren and Kim also teach some of the early primary classes.

The blue wall by the door is where we hung the giraffe growth chart, which is a hit for all ages.

I get to teach these kids each day!  Tessa (5) in front, Ella (6) in back...

... and Braden (7).  Mikayla (also 7) joins us on Tuesdays.

With other people taking the pictures, I'm actually in a few!

Tour's done!  One last shot from our class timeline, just for fun.

It's official!  We really started!

Gilmore Kids' Graduation

This past school year I've been helping the Gilmore family by teaching their jr. high kids' Math and Science classes.  Thursday was their last day of school, and following family tradition, they held a graduation ceremony that evening to show off their work and bring the year to a close.  I remember attending last year's graduation, when I had just arrived in Musoma.  That year Camden and Tirzah had each done a report on a historical character; I was highly impressed with their presentations and not a little intimidated at the thought of teaching them!

Now Camden has finished 8th grade, Tirzah 6th, and Braden has proudly completed 1st grade.  Each of them put a lot of time into some special projects this year; this was showtime!

During the year, Braden had turned an idea from one of his journal entries into a book, complete with illustrations and even Swahili translation.  To share "Tom and Bob's Adventures in the Serengeti" with us, he enlisted his older siblings to act in a play version of the story.  The tale concerns the two title characters (giraffes) and a dinosaur they meet.  After initially being frightened of each other, the characters find common ground (in their spots and long necks) and decide to be friends.  I hear that further adventures may be forthcoming.

Speaking of plays, Tirzah and Camden enjoyed their introduction to Shakespeare this year.  In reading through Macbeth, they worked together to illustrate their favorite scenes from each act, selecting quotes to accompany their drawings.  We got to see the play through their work projected onto their living room wall.  (I enjoyed the refresher--it's been a while!)  Here are the artists with a couple key scenes:

Unfortunately I don't have pictures of their big project.  To practice writing and computer skills this year, Camden and Tirzah each wrote and designed their own magazine, focused on the topic of their choice.  (Camden created a Bionicle magazine, and Tirzah wrote one for missionary kids.)  The magazines included informational articles, fictional stories, poems, book/movie reviews, etc.  Since printing the magazines will be a challenge, the kids used the LCD projector to show them to us.  You'll have to take my word for it; the magazines are awesome!

We also heard from the beginning musicians--Camden with the guitar, and Tirzah with the flute.  Meanwhile, arranged on tables around the room were lots of items for our perusal.  Journals, past and present, were there, along with the major projects from previous years.  Each student had also displayed stacks of the books they read this year, noting their favorites.  At the end of the ceremony, the students' father/principal presented them with their certificates.

Did I mention I'm proud of them?

Hiking Day

It should first be understood that this was not a serious hiker's idea of a one-day expedition.  Which was why I agreed to go in the first place.

One of our translators, a pastor named Mago, agreed to take us to his family's village about an hour outside Musoma.  There we met his brother-in-law, and the two of them--along with an ever-growing number of curious neighbors--led us through the beautiful hill country.

First we had to get there.  Our two 4x4 vehicles were put to the test once we left the main road that winds its way to the Kenyan border.  The road up the hill to Mago's childhood home was little more than a steep ditch.  I don't know how they fared in the other car, but Mitchell certainly embraced the off-roading adventure.  I lauged with his scared-excited kids as we rocked and bumped our way up.

At one point the bushes crowded in a little too close for comfort.  Andrew offered to cut them back... if Mitchell had a machete in the car... and sure enough, he did!

After we reached the home of Mago's sister, we left the cars and went trooping around the plateau.  The smaller members of our party often still rode, though.

When we stopped to rest, I took this picture of the Mara River valley--the river itself is just barely visible as a shimmering ribbon right behind the last trees.

From there we set out to climb one of the neraby peaks.  Three hills rose up in a row before us, and we set out towards the one on the right.  Before we got very high, some guys came up to Mago and the rest of our guides.  The newcomers wanted us to pay them a fee in order to climb the hill.  You could give them points for creativity, I suppose, but we decided to leave it at that and go for the hill on the left.  (No one accosted us there, so the middle hill remained neglected.)

I think we were following an actual trail up the hill, but I'm not sure.  Machetes came in handy, once again.  All part of the adventure--and the view from the top was awesome!

Enjoying the overlook are my friend Ellen and I, together with young hikers extraordinaire Kira and Lianne.  They clambered up the hill with us even though their parents had stayed below with the smaller kids.  In fact, the rest of their family are almost visible in the background, under some trees in front of the building in the distance.

At the top of the hill was a "cave" formed by two giant boulders leaning against each other.  Our friends told us that this hill has served as a lookout post, where the villagers could watch for cattle thieves.  The cave was narrow, but more than spacious enough for our whole group (which had doubled by now).

From the hilltop you could also see the grass-roofed houses scattered around the area.

Having finished our hiking for the day (so we thought), we turned around to head back toward our vehicles.  A few hours passed, however, before we actually buckled our seatbelts.  It would be unthinkable to come out here and not greet family.  So we took a side trip down into a valley to meet Mago's mother.  Given the hospitable culture here, it's a wonder we were able to leave again without having a meal.

This last phase of our hike, under the afternoon sun, was almost too much.  Drinking the last of our water, our minds turned to fantasy.  Ellen started it with her talk of cold drinks from Sonic.  But I continued it, recalling the pitcher of delicious lemon-berry Hawaiian Punch waiting for me in my fridge.  (Hooray for care packages!!)  Every once in a while I comforted myself by muttering "lemon-berry-hawaiian-punch", which gave the added satisfation of driving my companions crazy.

Mago's sister, meanwhile, had been busy.  When we arrived back at her house, we were led to sit down under the trees (no complaints there--I was beat), and out came a small table.  Before long it was set with multiple dishes of brown ugali--a new variety for me--and a pot of chicken in tasty broth.  (We were pretty sure we'd heard them butcher one when we got there that morning.)  I'm afraid we didn't eat enough.  Tanzanians don't eat as often as we do, so they take advantage of meals in a way our little foreigner stomachs just can't manage.  Thinking back, I hope our hostess was not offended by how much food we left.  At the time, I was too tired to think about much besides the rain clouds drifting towards us from across the river.

We made it down past the worst of the ditch-road before the downpour.  And then back towards town through the torrential rain, praying for safety in the low visibility.  Back home I paid for the earlier torment I had caused my friends... by sharing my lemon-berry Hawaiian Punch.

MKs in Paradise

Last week I got back from a trip to Tanzania's capital, Dodoma.  Literacy and Scripture Use workers from all of our locations in Tanzania and Uganda met there for a workshop, and I went along with the Gilmore family to teach their kids during the week.  Dodoma is tiny compared the the country's biggest city, Dar es Salaam.  But being the administrative center has its perks, especially for us small-towners.  For me, our outings were doubly fun, because I got to experience them alongside some wonderful kids who don't often get treats like these.

Restaurants--that's what we were looking forward to.  Nor were we disappointed!  As soon as our caravan pulled into Dodoma (after a two-day road trip), we headed straight to the Chinese restaurant(!) at this big hotel to satisfy our munchies.  The Gilmores and I made it back for dinner one evening, too.

Then there was the Pizzeria.  An Italian couple doing orphanage work in Dodoma opened up a restaurant last year--and we are so grateful to them!  Aside from fabulous food, the place is also the home of The Awesome Playground (Braden's title).

We could even go to an ice cream parlor!  Called "Aladdin's Palace," it offers themed soft serve ice cream, such as the favorite "Jasmine's Jewels."

Thanks to our friend and colleague Marcia, the kids also got to play on a Wii--something they'd tried only once before.

With only four full days in Dodoma, it was hard work to pack in everything we wanted to do.  But we rose to the occasion!  Our only regret was missing a return visit to the pizza place (and Awesome Playground).  So I'd say we did a pretty good job.

Even the car trip itself had its highlights.  (These kids are used to lots of car travel.)  The shot below was taken during one of the road's lowlights... a 40-mile stretch where you drive on the bumpy ground beside the under-construction road.  It took about 2 hours.  So we had plenty of time to discover each other's music.  Here is the Tirzah & Camden band--a lip sync, air guitar spectacular.  Stuffed animals joined in later.

One more treat:  In Mwanza (3 hours from Musoma--almost home!) I had my first cheeseburger since August.  That thing was gone fast!

Rains Come with a Vengeance

"So, did the rain cause problems at your house last night?"

That was the standard question around town yesterday.  We are in the second rainy season now; the first was strong from November through mid-January.  In general, rain is welcomed here.  Even as it renders the dirt roads impassable, people are still thankful, for the sake of their crops.  But the duration and strength of the first rains pushed the limit.  One of my night guards descibed the trouble he and his wife were having keeping water out of their (mud brick) house.  As he put it, "The rains are good, we need the rain.  But if they don't stop soon, we won't have a place to live anymore."

After a mostly-dry season of about a month, the rains are back, and Wednesday night's storm was the hardest yet, I think.  It picked up around 10:00, as I was getting ready for bed.  Listening to the wind, I unplugged electronics, and sure enough, the power went out soon after.  I also made certain all my windows were closed, and I cleared things out from in front of doorways.  Previous rains have shown me what to expect in this house.  I did not expect enough, though.  After a five minute trip to the bathroom, I discovered water seeping under the front door had made it all the way down the hall, around the turn, and into my room.  As I ran around looking for towels or even sheets to sop up the water, the vehemence of the storm lashing against the house made me tremble.  I was reminded of hurricane season in Houston.  The house was pelted with such strong thuds, I wondered if the rain had been joined by hail.  That was confirmed by others the next day.

Although the storm brought me plenty of excitement, I was glad my little containable stream of water was all I had to deal with.  Our translation offices had a couple rooms under water, I hear.  My coworkers got plenty of water inside, but on top of that, the torrents rushing down from the road plowed deep into the ground and tore up the foundations of one section of their courtyard wall, pulling down their front gate.  What a mess.  Apart from the major concerns, I was also saddened by the state of their beautiful garden--flowers flattened, seedlings swept away.  Small things have their own poignance.

It's the truly big things I can't get my mind around.  Mud brick is indeed the common method of house construction; it's not hard to imagine what can happen in a good storm.  I heard reports of collapsed houses, and each time one family was mentioned: three people who were inside their house when it collapsed--now dead.  There were rumors of others as well, and it's not the first time.  If I was momentarily afraid, even in my strong house, what must it be like to listen to a storm from within one of these little homes, knowing what it could do?

This isn't a large-scale disaster like Haiti and Chile have experienced, but for me, it's close to home.  It reminds me of the tenuous balance of people's lives here.  "The rains are good, we need the rain.  But if they don't stop soon..."

Lake Fly Plague

Perhaps you have seen the Planet Earth episode showing the "smoking lakes" of East Africa. Here's the part I'm talking about:

I hate to break it you, but BBC lied. In the video, the narrarator states that after mating, the flies "all drop to the water's surface... and die." That is not true. I know, because I live on the eastern shore of Lake Victoria, and I can tell you that...

Lake flies are blown inland, to the torment of all land dwellers! 

In fact, I'm pretty certain that Lake Victoria's fly population aims for my town, Musoma. And that the majority congregate at my house.

Want evidence?

That is my house, which is painted WHITE. All those brown splotches are hordes of lake flies. Here's a close-up look:

Oh, they will all die, yes. But in the meantime we get to experience plague conditions. The tiny insects flutter in huge swarms, landing on anything or anyone they contact. If you have to walk outside, keep your lips tightly closed and try not to breathe too deeply. Squinting your eyes wouldn't hurt, either. Even taking these precautions, it's not exactly fun to feel the little bugs flying into your face.

Thank goodness they don't bite! Can you imagine?!

The house is not necessarily a refuge, either:

Those are piles of dead lake flies inside a bathroom window. The things are so tiny, they can (and will) fit through the smallest crack. And it's not like my house is super well sealed, anyway...

This shot was taken during the clean-up process:

lots and lots and LOTS of dead lake flies

I would like to say that this heap of dead bugs was the total accumulation from sweeping out all rooms of the house. I really wish I could say that. Sadly, I cannot; we were maybe halfway done at this point...

Besides, you can clean up all you like after the initial onslaught, but there will still be plenty of lake flies NOT dead yet. If you try to brush them off the walls while they're still alive, they smear. So you have to wait until they die and drop to the floor, all dry and sweep-able.

Did I mention that these tiny little insects actually have a smell? No, you wouldn't be able to smell one on its own. But when they're everywhere--yeah. Millions of bugs have their own special odor.

Fortunately, lake flies only swarm at certain times. I'm told they are indicators of coming rains, but the prediction method seems sketchy. Lake flies come... Maybe there will be rain very soon, maybe not... A good rainfall does remedy the bug problem, but more swarms can follow.

What can we do in the face of this plague? When my students came for lessons, they devised their own solutions for the dash across my yard:

Tirzah's plan to avoid getting lake flies in her eyes, nose, mouth, etc.

Assembly Adventures

Now that I've moved into my new house, I'm trying to get it furnished.  This is not as easy as you might think.  A lot of my furniture is being made piece by piece by a local carpenter.  He does nice work, but you never know how long it will take. 

Since my bedroom does not have closets, a wardrobe was high on my priority list.  I'm settling in, and I want to put my clothes away!  I decided to look at the pre-fabricated furniture available in town.  Apart from the time factor, I was not sure I wanted to draw up plans for something as complicated as a wardrobe.  That's how the carpenter works--you draw it, he builds it.

I actually found a wardrobe, and I enjoyed chatting with the lady shop owner... and anyone else in the shop at the time, who were naturally curious.  Their fascination increased when I declined to have someone come to my house to put the wardrobe together.  "How are you going to have it assembled?" they wanted to know.  "Oh, I'll do it myself," I replied.  This was evidently unheard-of.  They couldn't believe it.  Grinning, I convinced them I was serious, and they told me where to find the warehouse to pick up the long, flat boxes of parts.  (I was using a taxi for this trip, so the driver hired a porter with a big push cart to come along.)  The shop owner told me I could come back when I needed assembly help.

My house helper was equally surprised when I brought the pieces home and explained my intentions.  I didn't know what the big deal was.

It is true that pre-made furniture around here is not like what you get at home.  I was amused to see the instructions.  Here is the one and only page:

If you examine it, you'll find that although the different bolts are all given labels, the labels are not all to be found in the diagrams.  Another challenge I discovered was that many of the screw holes were missing.  I spent a lot of time in careful measurement, and a lot of elbow grease forcing in the screws with my cheap screwdriver.  A friend with a drill helped me with the doors.  (You might think this would be a good reason to have the shop guy do the assembly, but I can practically guarantee that he does not have a drill, either.)  When it was finally done, I was pretty proud of myself.

The next time my house helper came, she was full of admiration.  Admiration for the wardrobe--definitely a "rich" person's item--but also admiration for my skills.  She proclaimed me a fundi, the generic term for a craftsman or repairman, and later boasted to an actual fundi that I would do better work than he was doing... he was having trouble with a door handle.  (I protested, wanting to save face for the poor guy, and also not sure I wanted to tackle the problem now that he'd taken everything apart already.)

I'm wondering if all this astonishment stems from childhood differences.  I grew up playing with Legos.  From babyhood on, Western children get all sorts of toys that require fitting together and other types of spatial thinking.  Kids here don't have toys, period.  I see homemade toys, every now and then, but not many.  Maybe I shouldn't take for granted the ability to read and follow basic diagrams!

A Tanzanian Wedding

This was my first time attending a wedding in Tanzania, and I went full of curiosity.  The bride and groom, Diana and Pius, both work in our translation office.  They were married in a little church in a village outside Musoma.  In an interesting twist, the wedding was not held in Diana's home church.  She had specified that she wanted to be married in the church of a neighboring village--because that's where she was baptized as a girl.  So her family, friends, and even her pastor all travelled in taxis, etc., in order to hold the wedding in this special place.

I enjoyed the experience, and overall I was struck by how the many of the same traditions seem so different in this context.

For example, the bride was preceded by a group of bridemaids in matching dresses.

However, time is perceived far differently here.  The bridesmaids stood in the doorway for some time until everyone was ready.  (I should also note that the wedding started a good couple hours after the time printed in the invitation.  I think the rain and extra travel contributed.)  Eventually the bridemaids started their march (sort of a dance-march) down the center aisle, and after them came the beautiful bride.

Diana was stunning!

After Diana reached the front of the church and joined Pius, they were both seated in chairs facing each other across the "stage" area.  A very nice practice, in my opinion, especially if the pastor's message runs on the long side.  And here in Tanzania no church event is complete without a performance from the choir.  After songs and sermon, the bride and groom stood and came together to say their vows.

You may notice the camera men in the picture...  Often there were as many as four or five guys snapping pictures (in addition to the guy with the video camera).  This was another cultural difference; the photographers stood right in front of their subejects, blocking the audience's view in the process!

The tradition of the wedding cake is practiced here, too--during the service!  Pius and Diana fed each other small morsels of cake (all very ceremonious, no fooling around!), and then each of them cut slices and served their in-laws seated in the front row.

To complete the ceremony, the two newlyweds exited down the center aisle... again, that slow, swaying dance-like procession.

Everyone filed out after them and entered immediately into the reception area--the church yard.  There people stood and chatted while those in charge of the food bustled around preparing giant pots of meat, pilau (rice), and cooked bananas.  It was quite a while before the food was served, but no one seemed to mind... or even think anything of it.

So now I've been to a wedding here.  I left thankful for the invitation and prayerful for this couple and their new life together.  May they be an example of a godly home among their community.