Bible Sunday in Mgango, Tanzania

This past Sunday four of my Tanzanian colleagues, my new house-mate Crystal and I went out to Mgango (about 45 minutes outside of Musoma), a village in the Kwaya language group area.

Upon arrival Crystal and I were informed that we would be helping with the kids program. It became apparent that we would be creating the program on the spot, so I grabbed some Kwaya Lukes out of the truck as well as some Lukes and Ruths in Jita (a related language). We then set about helping the children to learn to read in their language.

More than likely, this was the first time any of these children saw their language in writing. Some were shy about reading, while others jumped at the opportunity. It was amazing to hear how easily some of the older kids picked it up.

Crystal is a teacher, who came to Musoma to help teach the missionaries' children. This was her first trip out to a village in the area, and also one of her first times to get to see Tanzanians receiving God's word in their language. Her gifts in teaching came in handy as she sat with the kids and helped them read. We were both pretty impressed with the girl pictured below. She quickly was able to read in Kwaya and didn't want to stop.

During the church service we heard a sermon by Daudi Mornodoro (one of the Kwaya translators) about the power that God's word has. While he read a portion of Luke in Kwaya I watched the faces of the small congregation. They were smiling from ear to ear. It was truly a blessing to get to witness.

Finally; I was asked to sing and play the guitar (so that Kwaya women would know that they too could play the guitar). I chose one of my mom's songs and ended up getting to sing it three times before the end of the service. Here is a short video I was able to put together of the "performances":

Running in Musoma

Running along Riverside in Tulsa, Oklahoma is one of my favorite things about being from Tulsa. I learned to treasure the peace, serenity and friendliness that comes along with the trails that follow the Arkansas.
Naturally, I was looking forward to how much more awesome it would be to run in Africa. If running in the middle of civilization along a riverbank was sublime...I would be reaching new peaks of sublimity when running through the jungles and hills of Africa. No pavement. No concrete. No cars. Just me and the trail.

Hm...well, I was sort of right. There isn’t pavement, concrete or cars...but it is not just me and the trail. My love of running and my resolve to continue running no matter what has been tested by running in Tanzania.
I stand out enough here...being one of the few white people to live in Musoma. It adds a whole new degree of standing out to see a white female running down the road or through the farm trails. It is quite common to have children (and the occasional teenager and adult) chase after you yelling 'Mzungu Mzungu Mzungu'. At times I have tripped over children, been hit or grabbed by others, had rude things said to me...or even once a child ran away crying in terror because three white people came running around the corner and that was just not what she expected for her day.

I finally took my camera with me one day for a run through the farms near where I live and would like to show you the beauty of where I live...as well as tell you about that particular day.

It is about a 25 minute walk from my front door to the top of the hill where I typically start my run. Traditionally I run with my good friend Misha Sandeen and we leave from her house, which is only a 15 minute walk from this hill top.

There are several markers along the way that can be a turn around point. The rock at the top of the hill (which is in fact just under the top of the hill). That curve at the bottom of the hill. Or maybe I'll turn around at the place where the tall grasses start. Or if I'm feeling really ambitious I may venture as far as the puddle that never dries up.

On this particular day I turned around at the rock on the top of the hill. From this vantage point (were you to look with your own eyes, rather than through my camera lens), you can see that Musoma really is located on a peninsula. You can see lake Victoria for at least 180 degrees. Not to mention the corn fields, greenery, reddish dirt and large rock formations.

Just so you know that it really was me that ran out to take these photos, and that I truly do live in such a gorgeous country...here is pictorial proof of my presence on this run:

You may be asking yourself at this point if I ever sing songs from the Lion King as I run along these paths...the answer is unequivocally: YES.

As I was finishing the run I began to lament the fact that no children had started to chase me. I thought it would be an assumed occurrence, and yet not a solitary person had crossed my path. At that very moment of lamentation I turned a corner to see six boys holding hands across the path barring my passage.
My first thought was 'how am I going to get around them?', then decided I would just charge them in the middle...and thankfully they broke apart and let me pass. All of them began running after me immediately. I stopped suddenly and they almost ran away because they thought they were going to get a lecture...instead, they got to pose for a picture. This, I think, made their day as well as mine.

Moments later I passed a dog and then his owners kept up with me just enough to ensure the dog was trotting beside me step for step. Considering the fact that a colleague had just been attacked by a rabid dog...I was just a bit nervous.
So, running in Musoma is beautiful. But there are many challenges. The people yelling at you, the attention you draw, the fact that many people walk these paths with machetes, the fact that I've had rocks thrown at me, a knife smacked on my backside, all these things can make running here more of a chore, rather than a relaxing exercise...but...then there is this:

So, I keep running.