Month: October 2023

We arrived at around 9:15 for the funeral, and I was sitting close to the family section. The funeral started at 10:00 and ended after 4:00. Because I was seated close to the house’s front door, like others, I was able to walk into the very nice house to use the bathroom (and I saw that there actually is some descent painters of walls—unlike my bathroom!), strategically emptying my bladder before the end of the funeral when things were very congested. It is very hard to estimate, but I’m sure there were at least 1,500 people there, if not more! I counted 16 professional videographers and cameramen (yes, all men).

Very close to the action!

The big potato served as the Regional (think US state-level) Police Commander for 3 different regions, was a District Commissioner (sort of like county) and a Regional Commissioner (like a US state governor), and recently was the Regional Chairperson for the leading political party, CCM. The CCM party’s color is kelly green, so there was a lot of green. And it is the party of the current President, Samia Suluhu Hassan (a woman!). So, there were many with dresses and fabric wraps that had her picture on it. There was a very strong political party vibe in the mix of a Lutheran funeral. There were also quite a few wearing sun glasses while under the tent. I have rather sensitive eyes and keep sun glasses handy, but I didn’t need them under the tents.

There were also representatives of the police guard and a gun salute (sorry, I didn’t count the shots). Honestly, I’m a bit confused by what seems to be a police army (jeshi) and police. Maybe, I’ll ask about this.

Lots of pomp!

During a bit of a lull, I was able to see a dear friend, Janet. Another widow in these past few days of events. I first met Janet and her husband, Justo, around 1990. It was lovely to see her, as she is on my list of people to connect with now that language lessons are over.

So great to see Janet!

During the closing procession, Nangole ushered me into the clergy line to enter the house with the large circle of bishop, bishop elect, and 8, or so, other clergy.

After the prayers, I had perhaps 2 minutes to be introduced to the Bishop Elect, Godson Abel. Nangole made a nice connection, and then when Dr. Abel heard “Mama Anya,” he knew me from just getting a girl into Mwika Bible College just 2 weeks ago (see post 2023.10.19 Hosiana). So, he knows that I’m continuing to be a blessing. Then, the current Bishop, Masangwa, was gathering everyone for the food, and I had just a few seconds with Masangwa. He knows me from the 2016 work going to Arash and dedicating the new clinic there in a dedication celebration there (started by my home church, Cross of Christ, and especially championed by Ann). Nangole brought me into the food line behind him, cutting in front of the other people (yes lead by the bishop, yet it is a bit awkward for me as a mzungu (one of 4 in the huge crowd). So, I sat to eat with Nangole, then the Bishop, the Bishop Elect, and then I was talking with the person to the right of me, who was the Assistant Bishop Elect. I knew of him, and I told him that he is the brother of my Wartburg Theological Seminary student! Wow! So, I introduced myself! He is Maasai!!! Perhaps he would be a great person for the group of stakeholders for my project.

I was given a ride home by a Maasai woman who is just starting her PhD with a project on how the church is incorporating (or not!) women pastors. I told her this is a very interesting project, and because I teach PhD courses and supervise a PhD student, she could ask me questions to help with her project proposal if she thought that would help. I met another Maasai woman pastor who is one of the few—if not the only woman—who serves as the district pastor. So, there were many lovely and Providential connections! Who would have thought that a funeral would be so strategic for networking for this research project!

Mungu akubariki! (God bless you!)

I couldn’t bear to make it to the first service at the Lutheran church that starts at 6:00 am! I did take Joyce (the 8 y. o. niece) and her best friend to church for the 8:30 service. They were adorable in their pretty dresses. All the girls are in lovely dresses, with tulle, lace, and sparkles being cherished.

The first service ended late, and then the waiting people rush in to get a seat. It is packed. I was on a bench without a backrest in the very back of the church. When the 150 or more kids went to Sunday school, I moved up to a bench with a backrest. It was behind a pillar, so perhaps that is why the seat was open. Later, I was glad for the pillar, because when the sermon started, it was so loud that I had my fingers in my ears quite a bit! My decibel meter app registered a constant high 80’s and low 90’s level, with peaks up past 104 decibels. The NIH website states, “Long or repeated exposure to sounds at or above 85 dBA can cause hearing loss.” Yes, the sermon was “long”—at least 45 minutes if not closer to a hour. The service ended at noon, 3.5 hours later! Typically, I advise my students to bring earplugs to the Pentecostal worship services, but I didn’t have any this morning for a Lutheran service! Perhaps the pastor saw me at the end—as I do stick out as the only mzungu (white person)—and I think there may have been a comment in the free-flowing sermon, but my Kiswahili is still not able to track everything.

The girls and I walked back to Rebecca’s home (perhaps a kilometer) and I asked for recordings of the Lord’s Prayer by Joyce (who has the sweetest voice) and Rebecca in Kiswahili in order to memorize it fully.

Then, we had lunch. We chatted, practicing Kiswahili, and I had a short nap.

In the late afternoon, Pastor Nangole stopped by to adjust our plans for Monday morning. We were going to go to Arusha to visit the Bishop Elect in order for me to request a blessing for my research project. It is prudent to start with the bishop when I am planning to invite church-based organizations to partner (and receive an honorarium) in this research project. Due to the death of his cousin, there would be a funeral on Monday. Nangole and the bishop elect planned that I would come to the funeral and then there would be a moment or two to at least have a very brief introduction. Ok, I’m going to a funeral of a person I don’t know. Not only that, but this person was also a very big potato (I even heard this during the funeral). The current president of Tanzania was said to have cried as they had a formal sending of the body from Dar es Salam, where he was when he died in the hospital.

Mungu akubariki! (God bless you!)

Today is my 28^th wedding anniversary, with 13 of those celebrated with memories.

The big celebration today was the MaaSae Girls Lutheran Secondary School Form 4 Graduation (about a 10^th grade equivalent in the British educational system that Tanzania adopted).

I took a taxi over and was wonderfully greeted from the long-term math teacher. He is so kind and said, “You always have a home here.” There are 3 teachers still on the teaching staff 20 years after my departure. There are also 3 of my former students teaching and working at the school. Several of the other staff, guards and the water man, still are around and greet me enthusiastically.

I was escorted to the chapel (with a student carrying my bag—which is normal). I sat down, seeing the OBA leaders and guest, as well as a group of 9 Norwegian teachers finishing a 5-week practicum at MGLSS. (They loved their experience, and feel they had the best school of all of the other Norwegians doing practical experience in Tanzania. More later on the Norwegians.)

The blessing of the Form 4 graduates

Pastor Nangole previously informed me that he would ask me to bring a greeting. So, while the other guests (wageni) stood up and introduced themselves, I was invited up front in the chapel to share a few words. I had prepared a very short story adapting the story from the first Form 6 class. (I’ll bring this into a later post, as this will already be a long post!) It seemed well received, as even the Diocese education director referred to it later when he spoke to the graduates, and later he greeted me and thanked me for the message.

After I spoke, a guest was ushered in to sit next to me. It was Selina, a former MGLSS student and her two daughters. We have kept in touch, as she has been a great one to connect with for groups to visit a boma (a traditional Maasai settlement). I’ve arranged for a group of visiting Norwegian biblical scholars to visit her parent’s boma on 1 Dec. She is a widow after her husband died in a car accident (same as my Kiswahili teacher, Joyce). She saw me, we hugged, and she cried with joy. Selina was one of 2 MGLSS students who patiently earned Anya’s trust and became like a big sister to Anya. Later, you’ll hear a bit of Selina’s story and the blessing of educating girls—one of many who at the beginning of her secondary school, her father was opposed to her schooling, as he would not get the cows as her bride price.

The other person I saw was Linda Jacobson, the dear friend that developed as a missionary colleague, supporting Eric and I through 3 miscarriages, and me supporting her through her husband, Mark’s brain cancer. Mark and Eric died from the same glioblastoma multiforme brain cancer, one of the most aggressive cancers. We hugged and cried after the service. What an amazing gift to see her!

Linda, Susan, and me

Then, Providentially (with a capital P), Linda brought a friend along, Susan, who is a professional conservation researcher working with the Maasai! Susan’s group are scientists hired by organizations like USAID to do the technical science behind their project goals! So, Susan and I had one of those first conversations that we know could go on for a long time. We will connect again, and she will be a super resource to help me with some research model questions. Yes, Providence again!

I don’t know any of the approximately 64 Form 4 graduates, but I am the contact sponsor for a girl in Form 6 who will graduate in the spring (another Joyce). Joyce carried by bag and sat with me, Susan, and Linda during the graduation ceremony. Joyce is planning to be a nurse and pursue the nursing program that Mark started! I’ll be back at MGLSS for the Form 6 graduation in the spring for Joyce!

The graduates do not wear a cap and gown, a Western symbol that seems so culturally misplaced when one sees the gorgeous Maasai attire. Even the sound of the tinkling oromboi (metal disks) is amazing!

Procession of the Form 4 Graduates

Graduates Receiving the Form 4 Certificates

After the lunch provided, we had pictures with the MGLSS graduates. What an amazing demonstration of the power of education! Girls freed from forced marriages to study and choose their own husbands and/or careers.

Me with an amazing group of MGLSS alumni!

I was able to catch a ride with the Norwegians back to Rebecca’s house, which is just off the road back to Arusha. They rented a dala dala van for their group. While waiting for the dala dala to show up, we talked for perhaps half an hour about their experience. They were moved and very grateful! And the one male and myself help to build a bit of a boundary between a pretty drunk Maasai who wanted to touch the blonde hair of some rather beautiful Norwegian young women!

The day ended with playing some simple games with the small Joyce and other small children from the neighborhood in Rebecca’s home. A lovely day!

Laughter and fun with the neighborhood kids

Mungu akubariki! (God bless you!)

This has been a very full weekend, so I’m catching up and will have several posts.

Friday was my last class for my 3-week Kiswahili intensive course. I did learn a lot, yet it is clear there is much more on this long journey.

A certificate too!

I finished the introduction course, yet, because of some prior foundation and me being the only student, we were able to do some customization. I am SO glad to be in a course where I can thrive (in contrast to what happened in Sweden in the fall of 2016, where I actually was the identified as the hardest worker, but I still failed the course that was way too advanced for me). One way of personalizing the course was practicing Kiswahili while my teacher, Joyce, and assistant teacher, Doreen (volunteer to build her CV), learned how to make a chocolate cake! They have never made a cake before, but Doreen is going to try to make a cake using a charcoal oven! Think of a pot with a lid within a pot. Charcoal surrounds the inner pot. Ovens are not common, so cakes are special (more later for Saturday’s post).

A Sweet Lesson

I will continue to work directly with Joyce for Kiswahili lessons that can again be personalized. It will also give me an opportunity to encourage Joyce and help with some networking for her desire to start a safe house for girls in at-risk situations (more below).

After class, I arranged for a taxi to take me to Monduli. I had been invited to dinner by Jason, the Director of Operation Bootstrap Africa (OBA). OBA is the non-profit organization that has several projects, mostly focused on education in Africa. One major aspect of their portfolio is the MaaSae Girls Lutheran Secondary School in Monduli (where Eric and I were volunteer teachers for 3 years). Both OBA and MGLSS were started by the late ELCA missionary, Rev. David Simonson. OBA also manages the Eric Hanson Memorial Scholarship (see post 2023.10.19 Hosiana).

While I had multiple email conversations and even a Zoom chat with Jason, I had never met him before. I had a wonderful evening talking. And lo and behold(!), what did the retired folks traveling with Jason on this OBA journey talk about seeing, a safe house! I knew of the one started by Dr. Msinjili, the former Head (Principal) of MGLSS. One of his safe house girls now has a safe house in Monduli. So, I will bring Joyce to see these safe houses to learn from their experiences and wisdom. Perhaps it will even be a possibility to start as a branch of the established safe house and avoiding the bureaucracy of trying to start another NGO/CSO (Civil Society Organization).

I spent the weekend in Monduli staying with a dear friend, Rebecca, who was my missionary colleagues’ (Jean and Marvin) cook. She is an amazing woman who now owns a bakery and is the wise woman that people in her neighborhood come to in order to seek advice and help solve problems. She says, (paraphrase), “Sometimes I don’t know where the advice comes from, so I believe it is God’s wisdom.” I heard wonderful biblical story and Bible verse references throughout the weekend. So, we had a rich conversation (perhaps a half—maybe a third—in Kiswahili and the rest in English when I was brain dead). Thus, my other Kiswahili teacher is Rebecca. The neighborhood kids are often over, visiting her 8-year-old niece, also named Joyce. Rebecca is the quintessential example for me of “if you bless the mama, the whole family (and neighborhood) will be blessed.”

Mungu akubariki! (God bless you!)

Amazingly, things can happen in a way that is so Providential that it seems miraculous.

I had the name of a Maasai woman, Suzana, that Knut, my Doctor Father, had connected with for his Maasai and the Bible Norwegian Research Council grant half-a-dozen years ago. I connected with her just a few days prior, and she responded promptly. She actually is a neighbor. I didn’t know she was here on the Tumaini University Makumira campus, as the last I heard, she was the Director of the Theological Education by Extension (TEE) program in Oldonyo Sambu, which serves the predominantly Maasai region with theological education for lay pastors. We were able to meet on Thursday night, and I mentioned that there is an Eric Hanson Memorial Scholarship for the lay pastors’ children at the MaaSae Girls Lutheran Secondary School. She then told me of the woman evangelist’s daughter from Oldonyo Sambu who is living in her house, and she has a sense of calling to become a pastor. Her name is Hosiana. Wow!

Within 2.5 hours, Suzana was able to get the bishop elect’s approval to get her into the theological studies at Mwika Bible college prior to the official congregational sending process, and the registrar at Mwika said there was room if her transcript could be emailed that evening. I was able to confirm with Operation Bootstrap Africa that Eric’s scholarship would be able to be applied to Mwika.

Bing, bang, boom—a girl’s life is changed!

Mungu akubariki! (God bless you!)

I was barely able to Zoom last night with a dear friend that I’ve known since 1992. While the graininess and freezes were palpable, we were still able to connect through three power outages during the conversation. I’m grateful for the opportunity to connect after 4 days of being without Internet!

When asked, “How are you doing, really?” I replied that actually things are rather well. Yes, there are challenges and unknows that my INFJ (Myers-Briggs temperament) doesn’t thrive with, but really, I’m managing rather well. Yes, there are times of isolation. Yet, there is a deeper peace that comes with the palpable presence of a peace that “passes all understanding” that would be rather understandable with some of the daily issues. I know people are praying for me. I received 3 emails yesterday with the reminder of being carried in prayer.

Let me give a couple examples from Sunday. Most of my days, nobody knows where I am. I go, stay, make some visits, and the past 2 weeks, I’ve been walking to my Kiswahili course lessons. On Sunday, I need to get on the dala dala van/small bus to get to the English-speaking service, which has been important for community as well as making important connections. (A few have been Providential with a capital P!) As an introvert, it could be emotionally demanding to be squished in a row of 6 people with 4 seats and navigating what the unwritten social systems are in crammed van. (I often wonder what Jesus would do in these contexts!) However, I’m not having to psych myself up for the van ride or keep a mental alertness that is typical for me. I have a deep peace that I know is under-girded by the prayers of people on 3 continents.

It used to be my dad’s prayers that were the wind beneath my wings. I would Skype with him and let him know my special prayer requests. (And the tears come remembering this love he expressed in relentless prayer for me—as well as 66 other widows every day.) Before he died, he appealed to others to pray for me. I am deeply moved and grateful for all the prayers.

Today, before the power went out, (I’m now writing emails in a Word document that I cut and paste into email when I have electricity), I was listing to the Hidden Brain podcast by Shankar Vedantam. The current episode is on gratitude. I encourage a listen and then sing a chorus, “Count Your Blessing,” the old praise song that always seems to be heard in my head with my mother’s voice.

I am well. I am grateful for: all the prayers, email check ins, lovely Kiswahili teachers, being the only student getting individualized attention, Tanzanian friends who send a text just to wish me good night, three weeks of good lunches with good greens and veggies from their organic garden on the campus (that I don’t tend to cook for myself or want to risk buying from the market), the troupe of Colobus monkeys, the electricity that just came on, and the return of the Internet!

Colobus monkey babies are white (mzungu!)

Mungu akubariki! (God bless you!)

The delay in posting blogs is significantly due to either the power outages, no Internet for at least 4 days, or glacially-paced Internet when I’m home from my Kiswahili lessons. Yes, even the Gmail homepage won’t load!

Eunie Simonson was the matriarch of the missionary community in Tanzania. She passed on 30 Sept, but to have family from the USA present, the funeral was delayed to today. Having arrived in 1956, she and her late husband, David, transformed so many lives—even mine. To put the length of life in Tanzania in perspective, 1956 was the year that William Shockley started Shockley Semiconductor Laboratory in Mountain View California, which was the beginning of Silicon Valley. (Check out Malcom Gladwell’s podcast, Revisionist History, and the episode, “Silicon Valley on the Couch.”)

One of the many projects initiated by David was the MaaSae Girls Lutheran Secondary School, where Eric and I were volunteers with the ELCA for three years (2002-2004). During those years, Eric and I went through 3 miscarriages. (It was diagnosed that I have a septate uterus, a congenital deformation.) Eunie was one of the women from our missionary community who stopped by to express her condolences. She empathetically shared in our loss, as she and David also experienced a miscarriage. Not only at this time, but anytime I was with Eunie (the first visit was in 1992), I felt that her world revolved around me. She was an amazing woman, who touched so many lives and even survived a plane crash!

Eunie rests in peace and showered with love

Funerals/memorial services are always filled with mixed emotions for me, the deep loss mixed with the joy of seeing other special people. This was again the experience, seeing members of the Simonson family, the missionary community (Bethay Friberg, as the missionary community is appropriately dwindling with the established indigenous church), and teacher (Ciwila) and former students from the MaaSae Girls Lutheran Secondary School (MGLSS). There was also a 6-member MGLSS choir, directed by Rev. Joel Nangole, my Monduli head pastor (now retired but still very active), and collaborator for the mission projects done through Cross of Christ Lutheran Church, Bellevue, WA (3), and Saint Andrew’s Lutheran Church, Bellevue, WA (1), and friend.

MGLSS choir

Three former MGLSS students whose lives are testimonies to power of education, and on the right, Mwalimu (teacher) Ciwila, with 22 years of impacting lives at the school. She is a rock at the school.

It was also a time for meeting others at Ilboru Lutheran Church, the oldest Lutheran church in the area (about 170 years old), with a walk to the Simonson home for the burial, where I had a lovely chat with Nashesha, (a playmate of Anya’s at the Arusha Community Church preschool in 2003-2004, with whom we did things together (confirmation retreats, Pasanki Easter egg decoration lesson, Great Wolf Lodge water park) when she spent a year with cousins close to Bellevue. I also met a German missionary, Stephan, who can speak Kimaasai. (This is the sign of an amazing missionary.) We had a wonderful chat about diaconal ministry in Maasailand, which is his passion. I look forward to connecting him to Wartburg, which was established through the work of the Lutheran pastor and theologian, Wilhem Loehe, who also had a passion for diaconal ministry. Stephan knew all about Loehe!

A full day after morning language lessons. Again I’m grateful to get rides from Randy, the former ELCA missionary who works here at Tumaini University Makumira with the music program and Cultural Arts Center.

Mungu akubariki! (God bless you!)

I got up bright and early to start walking at 7:30 to the MS-TCDC campus. About 20 years ago, Eric took a course on microfinance and microenterprise development there. It is a very well-regarded program that was started with Danish international aid money. Also today, I remember Eric, as this is his birthday. Happy birthday, Eric!

It is a lovely campus. I had never been there before, so I wanted to give plenty of time. All went well with an early arrival. There were marabou storks, a greater hornbill, and colobus monkeys on campus, in addition to a large and luscious campus that has their own farm-to-table vegetable garden. This includes a coffee shamba (garden), and they produced their own coffee there. The pictures below identify the challenges of coffee harvesting, as there is not a one-time harvest. Beans need to be picked when they are red and ripe. But you can see flowering coffee, green, and red fruit, which is why coffee is very labor intensive.

Coffee flowers

Some ripe and red are ready to pick, while green ones need more time.

The “cherry” with the green beans inside.

The amazing and Providential gift of the day is that I am the only student in the beginner course! There is a teacher and another assistant teacher, who becomes my conversation partner! As I have some Kiswahili, but not good enough to get into an intermediate course and bad grammar due to the absence of formal lessons like this when we were ELCA volunteers, I am not a low beginner, but my teacher, Joyce, at the end of the day said that I was a high beginner. So, I don’t have to be bored waiting for new beginners to learn the basic greetings and how to count to 10, instead, I get tailored conversations to my capacity and questions. What a HUGE blessing.

Joyce is on a break as part of her PhD program in teaching Kiswahili. So, I have an expert in pedagogy of this language. This makes a big difference for me who needs to be able to understand the grammar. So perfect!

My classroom

When discussing my research over a break, we discovered that we three are all women of faith. I also learned at the end of the day that Joyce is also a widow. The challenges of being a single mom raising 3 kids in Tanzania is unbelievable. Somehow, she is not only surviving but has thrived.

Mungu akubariki! (God bless you!)

Sunday morning meant getting on a coaster bus to Arusha for church at the Arusha Community Church for the English service and a great place to connect and even have some Providential connections.

In previous coaster bus blog posts, I’ve mentioned that sometimes purses get plopped into stranger’s laps to accommodate holding a child or hanging on to the hand bars while standing. Today, the “conductor” jumped off to help a mama with 2 girls all dressed up for church. The youngest was about 2 years old and adorable. The conductor picked up the 2-year-old and scampered on the bus with her, plopping her in the lap of a woman sitting by the door! Yes, a total stranger! Over the next several kilometers, the mama and older child find a seat farther back with now more people standing in the aisle and a few people between the mama and the woman holding the child. When the woman by the door moves, a man standing takes the child and takes the open seat! The child came with the seat!!! Later, he was getting ready to get off, so he looks back to the crowd and asks (in Swahili), “Whose the mama?” This is just fascinating to me to really see how the unwritten social contract of holding small children is shared by strangers in a bus!

I got to church and made a few connections with people I knew from before. One woman is in the missionary kid community that continued to live their lives in Tanzania. I helped her with a few tutoring sessions for computer skills at a time when she was a bit concerned that she was not able to be effective in her teaching role with the new technologies expected of her. She offered horseback riding lessons for Anya, while I gave the computer lesson. Pretty cool! She greeted me with a warm hug and lovely chat. Now, I’m praying for her brother-in-law, who has been diagnosed with brain cancer.

I stayed in town for lunch, as I was staying for the afternoon Maa (language) service, because I invited my former students via Facebook to meet me there. So, I had a couple hours to have lunch and try to find a few things in the big city shopping center. I could walk to the biggest supermarket in town where there are also some restaurants. I chose Chinese food, bypassing Pizza Hut, which is new since the last time I was here. They even deliver via motorcycle.

I got some rain boots for basically the same price as my lunch. Amazingly, they were made in Tanzania, not China! There was only 1 pair left and my size. I took it as a sign from God that I should wear them in the back yard when I’m working to restore a bit of the beauty that once was. While I’m not expecting snakes, it would be something possible. Most snakes bite at the ankles—not springing up high. Now you know why there are cowboy boots. (And did you see that Crocs now has a cowboy boot model!?! If not, here’s a link!)

I walked back to church to chat with my research assistant and work out some details of her very part-time, project based assistance. Which then grew into a lovely reunion as another of my former students, Selina, showed up to see me. Oh, she’s amazing. She is coordinating women’s empowerment, health (which sounded like the Form 3 biology content I taught her!), and even some climate change mitigation practices. So, I’m going to keep in contact with her. I have goosebumps now thinking that here are 2 women who grew up in stick, mud, and cow dung huts who are models for bringing the best of their culture forward. She has even named her children with Maasai names, which is less common, or they have a Maasai name but use the Swahili meaning.

Me with Liz and Selina

Another lovely connection was with Pastor Kimerei. He is a retired pastor, but he has an active role in rallying people to the Maa service.

Pastor Kimirei

He is honored by having the invocation and benediction roles in the liturgy, but he doesn’t preach or preside. I greeted him, reminding him who I was, but also, I then told him that not only did I spend the last year teaching at Wartburg Theological Seminary, where he earned his Masters of Sacred Theology, I have read his master’s thesis and have quoted him in my PhD dissertation and another paper! So, we will continue on contact, because I told him that the president of Wartburg is coming in January and would like to greet him at a special lunch for the alumni in the area. (There are 24 Tanzanians who earned a master’s degree from Wartburg, though some of them have passed, including the former Bishop Laiser and my dear friend, Lemburis Justo.

The service was suppose to start at 3:00, and at that time, there were a few people chatting outside. We got going at 4:15ish. The sermon was at least 30 minutes. After all, if you put all the effort into getting gussied up and get there, you want it to be substantial. I was able to give a greeting and encourage them in keeping their language alive. If you lose the language, you lose your culture, and then it is hard to know where you are from.

After the Maa service

At 6:30, while people were starting to pour their chai, I passed. Not only was it too late in the day for caffeine for me, I decided to text the taxi driver that I met last weekend to take me home as it was going to get very dark in 5 minutes. I was glad to be in a car with a good driver and a seatbelt. We passed an accident. He thought that a huge truck had a run in with a motorcycle driver. Lord, have mercy. There is a whole wing in the government hospital called the Toyo wing. Toyo is the brand of Chinese motorcycle that was dominant when the motorcycle taxis started to get popular. (Now it is more diverse.) I made it home safely and had a nice chat with the driver. He has climbed Oldoinyo Lengai, the Maasai “Mountain of God.” I would like to do this, yet, I’m not sure of my endurance and a knee that gets some KT tape prior to my long walks and hikes these days.

I made it home safely. Got the hot water tank turned on, started to work on dinner and the blog post, and the power went out. Fortunately, the water was warm enough for a sprinkle hose bath.

Tomorrow is my first lesson, so I want to be out of the door at 7:30 am for my 30-minute walk there.

Mungu akubariki! (God bless you!)

I woke up to rain pattering on the corrugated tin roof. There is a ceiling lower than the roof, but the sounds on the roof (rain, monkeys, etc.) are rather noticeable. It was a heavy rain all morning and a bit more in the afternoon.

When the rain comes, the Maasai say, “Engai (the monotheistic creator) has come.” It is rather refreshing when things are so dry and dusty.

Now I need to figure out what I’m going to do when the grass starts growing. Do I hire a gardener to “cut” the grass with a thing that looks like a long knife with a bent end about 4 inches long—that is sharpened on both sides. This gets swung back and forth a zillion times to cut the grass. I’ve thought of just getting a battery powered grass trimmer, that in the long run will be cheaper but will not employ a person.

It seems that the power outages are increasing. I was presenting my Marie Curie fellowship via Zoom today with colleagues at VID Specialized University, and the power went out in the middle of the discussion. So, I logged in with my phone, using data. Fortunately, I had things ready on my phone to log in if the power went out.

Perhaps when the short rains come—and this is an El Niño year—then there will be more water for hydroelectricity. I just wish that it was like my colleagues in South Africa, who typically have a rolling brown out schedule. So, they know when the power is going to go out.

Tonight, the Internet is so bad that I can’t even send an email. It takes minutes for a basic webpage to load. So, I write this on a document saved to the desktop, so that I don’t have to make any attempt to link to the cloud.

Finally, the day before yesterday, there was a troupe of green monkeys hanging around my yard. One saw me at the window and slowly came right to the screen. The monkey spent a few minutes traversing the windows and climbing around on the bars covering the windows—real monkey bars!

I just love the hand!

After the rain, there is some purple rain! The rain knocked off quite a few of the jacaranda blossoms. Jacarandas are one of my favorite trees, but it is not indigenous. For my favorite indigenous tree, I think a red thorn acacia tops my list, especially during sunset on the savannah.

Purple rain!

Mungu akubariki! (God bless you!)