The most stressful thing about traveling by bus is going to the toilet - I never
know when we'll get a chance to go, so I drink as little as possible. We
actually had three brief stops, which was pretty good going. Unfortunately one
was a rather humiliating experience as I wasn't sure where the toilets were and
someone shouted across the car park, "Mzungu panda ngazi kukojoo"
(white person, go up the steps to wee) - maybe he thought I wouldn't understand
so everyone else could just have a laugh at my ignorance, but of course I did
understand.
I'd only been to Mpanda once before, and things had changed in the intervening
years, including the building of a new out-of-town bus stand. So from there we
got a bajaj (motorised rickshaw) into town. A room had been booked for me at a
nice guesthouse, called Good Morning Lodge. Desperate to stretch my legs, I
decided to go out despite the rain, to reacquaint myself with the town. I got
thoroughly wet, and after hunting for a place to eat, eventually came across a
drab little café that had one dish available, ugali dagaa. Thankfully, this is a dish I rather like, of maize
stodge (ugali) with little dried fish
(dagaa) in a tomato sauce. This kind
of food is the equivalent of fast food here, as they prepare large amounts and
keep it in the saucepans or put in hotpots, so it's ready to serve as soon as
it’s needed (though it can also mean the food may have been sitting for some
time and, as was the case this time, may only be lukewarm, but I don't think
I've ever been really ill after eating at these cheap and convenient cafés).
That night I slept well until I was shocked into wakefulness at precisely 3am
by a loud crack and a rumbling sound and the room began to shake. An
earthquake! My heart was going nineteen to the dozen as the rumble disappeared
into the distance and the room stopped shaking. Apparently earthquakes are
quite common there, but although I have experienced tremors in Mbeya (three, I
think), think this was my first time to hear an earthquake and not just feel
it.
We stopped at a village where we could get a very late lunch. I asked for dona (wholegrain maize stodge) and goat meat. It's quite unusual to find goat meat at a café, it's usually chicken or beef or maybe fish that's available. The dona was rather dry and crumbly and the two pieces of goat meat, floating around in an oily broth, were barely warm. Despite its unappetising appearance, the meat had good flavour, and I determinedly ploughed my way through half the dona, moulding small portions into a ball in my hand to dip in the broth, but after a while it defeated me. There was a bowl of beans too, but much as I enjoy beans, I gave most of them to my colleague as I'm not sure my tummy enjoys them so much.
We continued our journey. For some of the way, poles stood erect just a few
metres from the roadside, awaiting wires, promising the coming of electricity. Much
of the countryside felt pretty wild, but every now and then you'd see someone
walking alongside the road or suddenly there'd be a patch where the bushes or
trees had been cleared and the land carefully cultivated or I'd spot a small herd
of cows grazing under the watchful eye of their herder (often a young man).
We arrived in Mwese and headed to the guesthouse. I was concerned to discover
there was a bar there with loud music. (When I say bar, don't think of a nice
counter with lines of bottles behind it, rather a handful of people were
sitting outside on plastic chairs drinking bottles of beer or spirits.) I don't
cope well with loud noises. After depositing my luggage and discovering there
were no sockets in our rooms because there was no mains electricity, just
solar, and that the rooms were not en-suite so I'd be sharing a bathroom with
three men (all people involved in the workshop I had come to teach), I quickly
left to escape the noise and stretch my legs.
The workshop was held in the Anglican church, a short walk up the hill from the guesthouse. As is my custom, we started by putting pictures of key Bible stories in order and telling the story of the Bible together, while we waited for everyone to arrive. I love this opportunity to, albeit briefly, remind people of God's desire to be in relationship with his people and all that he has done to make that possible. By the time we had finished this activity, everyone had arrived and we could officially open the workshop with greetings and introductions. It was great to see a real mix of denominations coming together. The goal of the workshop was to enable the participants to read the Bende language and to prepare and lead simple Bible studies using the Bende Scriptures (so far, they have Ruth, Jonah and Luke printed in their language). So we started with a Bible study on Luke 4:1-13, to give them a taste of what a group Bible study, with questions and discussion, is like. We did this in Swahili. During days two and three of the workshop we would continue to work through Luke 4, by having simple Bible studies, however the rest of the first day was spent learning to read Kibende, with the help of Frank and the two Bende translators.
A lavish spread was provided for our morning tea break. This was people's breakfast. There were chapattis, portions of chicken in broth and a mug of milky tea. (It should be noted that this is not a typical breakfast. Usually people have the previous day's leftover rice or ugali for breakfast and black tea. Occasionally they might have bread or mandazi (fried dough, a little like a doughnut). But it's hard to make generalisations as it depends on what they grow in their area and the season, so you may get potatoes or something else). To be honest, I was surprised, as we normally try to keep things simple, to keep the budget low, to do things in a way that the community can continue with. But this workshop is the first of its kind in the Bende language area and the Erick has a different perspective to me; I wasn't involved in organising the workshop, I was just invited to teach. I did not eat all that food (I had already had my homemade breakfast bar and a banana, as my tummy issues mean I have to avoid certain foods), but I did take a piece of chicken, which felt like a rather odd tea break snack but was tasty! At lunchtime we all headed down the hill to the village centre to find food. I ended up with rice and a plain egg omelette - it was hot and fresh, and the eggs were from the freely ranging chickens all around, so they were very yellow and full of flavour.
Day two of the workshop was rather wet, making the red clay soil of the area sticky. For a while I had to strain my voice to be heard over the sound of rain on the corrugated iron roof, but most of the time it didn't disrupt the workshop. Later in the evening, although the skies looked black, I set off to stretch my legs. En route I caught up with Frank and together we climbed the hill to the new hospital people had proudly told us about - the buildings looked new and smart and there were great views over the surrounding countryside. Thankfully it also stayed dry for showing the Jesus Film in the Bende language in the village centre that evening, running the equipment off a generator - although I didn't go I heard that a good crowd gathered to watch it.
There was a chilly wind blowing all morning and I wished I was wearing socks (here I unashamedly wear socks in sandals when the weather requires - closed shoes can become too warm, whereas it's easy to remove socks when the day warms up). By lunchtime it had warmed up a bit, and I enjoyed a plate of boiled potatoes with a bit of tomato mixed in and a bowl of mchicha (a small leafy green vegetable, also cooked with tomatoes). It was yummy, but I couldn't finish the pile of potatoes! (This cost less than 50p.) We finished the workshop by 4pm, and there was some encouraging feedback and promises to start doing Bibles studies with their families and, after gaining experience, with groups at church. At 5pm we started the journey back to Mpanda, with Erick driving the Land Cruiser at terrifying speed along the dirt road. We gave an elderly workshop participant a lift part way - he told how he had walked all the way to Mpanda in his youth and how, in those days, it would take eight hours or more by car while it took us less than two. We went straight to the bus station to pick up our tickets for the next day and found a guest house nearby. It was cheap but pleasant enough, except for the mosquitoes.
The next morning we rose in the darkness and walked to the bus station. It was still pretty dark when we reached Katavi National Park and we only saw one animal, but it was a male lion! It was lying on the road, and as we stopped it lazily got up and moved off - it was only a few feet away as it turned and looked at us unconcernedly. Awesome! Once out of the park we stopped for a brief roadside loo break, and were then joined by about twenty children getting a lift to school. They stood quietly in the aisle in their very worn school clothes, some carrying bags creatively made from old nylon sacking. They alighted nearly 15 minutes later, which means we must have gone three miles or more; I wonder how often they manage to get a free ride and how often they have to walk all that way.
My back and bottom were witnesses to the fact that it was a long bus journey. We were seated directly behind the driver and at one point we had a big cardboard box of eggs packed in rice husks in front of us. The box had ripped slightly and the husks were trickling out, and then an egg fell out, thankfully staying whole (guinea fowl eggs have tough shells)! With difficulty we lifted out the big box without dropping any more eggs and it was put onto alternative transport at the next bus stop. I think I may be finding husks in my laptop bag for a while. The trip was made longer by ridiculously long lines of lorries in both directions at Tunduma, caused by Tanzania-Zambia border checks, as the town of Tunduma is right on the border. Thankfully the line in our direction wasn't too bad, but I felt sorry for anyone going the other way - the line went on for mile after mile for about 12 miles. We also passed through torrential rain, thunder and lightning before eventually arriving in Mbeya under a heavy sky, almost exactly 12 hours after our journey began.
I walked the short distance (¾ mile) from the bus station back to my house, dumped my bags and went for a brisk walk. This walk, followed by a shower, felt wonderful, and when I went also went to the toilet I realised that this was the first time I had sat down on a toilet since Monday morning! Other than at the fancy guest house in Mpanda, all the places I had been to just had long drops, which in some ways I prefer to a sit-down toilet – it feels more hygienic to stand where others have stood than to sit where other bare bottoms have sat! They were nice ones, with a ceramic sink and a bucket of water with a jug for flushing. I also realised, as I poured myself a decaff coffee and sat down to finish writing this blog, that it was the first hot drink I’d had all week. I hadn’t missed these things when I didn’t have them, but I did enjoy them when I came back to them! And so here I am once again, until the next trip, tired but thankful for the opportunity to travel and serve, and I pray that God will cause the little seeds we have tried to sow to grow and bear fruit for the strengthening of his Church in that place.
Thank you for an interesting read and for the graphic insights into rural life in Tanzania.
ReplyDeleteThanks Katherine.
ReplyDeleteA very helpful window into your life and work there in Tanzania.
May the Lord encourage, strengthen and use you for His glory.