It has been almost three months since my arrival in Africa. It is nothing like I had expected as many things are in our lives. The top five unexpected things on my list are:
--How intense the sun is! There is a wonderful breeze everyday, but the sun's intensity is astonishing.
--Being loved by some and thanked many times by most.
--The mosquitoes in Africa fly really slowly, so they are easy to kill. However, the mosquitoes are also stealthy with their biting.
--How it is very easy to buy everything one needs for daily living on the bus (dala dala) while sitting in traffic.
--How limited the food choices are in the city. I can't believe how many "pub like" food establishments there are in Tanzania.
While I have been in Dar es Salaam, I have had many opportunities to learn about Tanzanian culture. Once a week we go on cultural outings: to the Tanzanian national museum, a tribal museum, and even shopping in a district called Kariokoo. I bought a tennis racket, a cutting board, congas (wraps that have many uses), tupperware, postal stamps, and internet usage cards.
One weekend I was able to talk with a Maasai man, who lives at the Salvation Army (where we have our Swahili lessons). I asked him if he could show us the famous "Maasai jumping dance” (Adumu). So he set it up and got some of his friends! We squashed 5 people into a taxi and headed off to a remote area with no paved roads. We bumped, screamed (mainly me), and laughed our way to where the Maasai men were preparing to adumu (dance). For the first time, our group of wazugu (foreigners) were not the center of attention. What I did not realize is that the Maasai people are just as much of a spectacle to most Tanzanians as are Americans/foreigners. So we (Maasai and wazugu) came together to celebrate Maasai dancing, but unintentionally celebrated our likenesses. We watched and cheered for 3 hours until they needed a soda break. I found out later that many in the Maasai tribe are Christian (mainly Roman Catholic). Warriors are the only members of the Maasai community who wear long hair, and they spend a great deal of time styling their hair. It is dressed with animal fat and ocher, and parted across the top of the head at ear level.
The next day, instead of attending St Paraskevi Cathedral, we visited a different parish, The Dormition of the Theotokos in the Mbezi beach region of Dar es Salaam. The church is located on the top of a hill. The nave is no bigger than two dining room tables placed side by side. The church was packed. Not counting the five of us, the faithful (including children) numbered twenty. The music we witnessed was from the angels. Everyone joined in singing the hymns, and the service reminded me of the churches my OCMC short-term mission team visited in 2002. I was part of a team of fourteen, then. We stayed in a small village called Kazsikazi. We joined the people of Kazsikazi in building All Saints Orthodox Church. Everyone--even the small children of the village-- helped bring the empty bags of dirt to us to refill. We were given the task of digging out the area for the narthex. All Saints Greek Orthodox Church in Pittsburgh, PA, sponsored the building of the church in the village of Kazsikazi. We also travelled with His Eminence Jeronymos to multiple parishes around the Bukoba Archdiocese. All that came back to me as I listened to the singing of the little children, men, and women: I could hear their gusto, passion, and love.
17 September 2010
His Eminence Dimitrios arrived from Greece. He wanted to take us out for lunch. To spend this time with His Eminence (H.E.) and my team before James left for Mwanza was very important to me, even though I was feeling sick. As the day went on I became more and more ill. I just thought, "it's a virus, it will pass." I had felt this way once before since I have been here in Dar es Salaam, and I was fine the next day after giving my stomach a rest and staying hydrated. I thought: "I am an ER nurse: I can treat a stomach virus." But my sick feeling got so bad that I had to excuse myself from the lunch because the smell of the food was too much for my temperamental stomach. On our way home, H.E. was driving; the car ran out of diesel, and we had to wait for someone from the Cathedral to help us get home. At this time I was actually feeling a little better. We then made our way to the Cathedral where H.E. stays while he is in Dar es Salaam. Again my symptoms were becoming worse, and I requested that I lay down while we waited for a taxi to take us home. I got into the taxi, and we made our way back to the hostel. The last road to our hostel is a VERY VERY bumpy one. I usually love the experience of bumping around in the car, but this time was it totally different. I had never felt this much pain, thank God, so the tears came out in liters. At one point, I had to quickly ask that the car be stopped so that I could take a break from the bumpy road. This caused quite a traffic jam, as I was told later by my friends. I was able, with the help of the taxi driver and Michael, my missionary teammate in Tanzania, to get back in the car and finish our trip back to our hostel. I made my way up the stairs to my room. I got in my pajamas and lay down in bed. Felice, my missionary teammate, came into my room, and we talked about the days' events. Our debriefing didn't last very long due to the fact that she lost her voice. Felice reminded me she was just a phone call away if I decided I needed to go to the hospital at anytime. It wasn't even two hours, before I realized the pain had started to increase in my stomach. So I got myself ready for a trip to the hospital and walked to Felice's room. I woke her up, and we made our way to the hostel's reception area. The taxi arrived, and we started on what seemed like a cross country trip to Aga Khan hospital, which was recommended by the hostel’s staff. At the beginning of our trip to the hospital the driver stopped to get diesel. After filling up the car, the pain in my stomach began increasing in intensity. The drive started to become overwhelmingly painful. It felt like we were only driving over rocks and not a road. On our arrival to the hospital, I crawled into the ER and was able to go straight back to a bed. I cried in agony and worked with the doctors and let them do what they needed to do to find out why I was having this pain. The pain never ceased even with the pain medicine I was given. Throughout the tests, I frantically tried to call the team, Michael, His Eminences Jeronymos and H.E. Dimitrios. Many of the phone numbers I did not have so I continued to call whomever I could reach. I spoke with Michael, and he started the phone chain to notify the Missions Department at OCMC, and the local clergy (Fr. Peter and Fr. Frumentios). I was all alone in my room, because in Tanzania the friend/family member's job is to pay for each item that has been ordered by the doctor (doctor's order), to take the blood to the lab, and to get the results. Felice was doing all this, and playing many, many other roles that night, and she showed peace through it all. It was incredible how much she advocated, consoled, and had such peace about the whole ordeal. Radiological and blood tests were done, and it was discovered that I had appendicitis. I was numb. I started crying and became terrified that I was going to have to have surgery in Tanzania. I told the surgeon that I needed to speak with my parents and friends in the states. I then spoke with my parents and told them what was going on. Since Felice was busy being my lab runner and bill payer, I felt very alone. I told them, I am so scared over and over. Then my dad interrupted said, "Katie you are not alone. You are never never never alone never ever. You have Christ Jesus, His mother, Saint Catherine, Saint Aidan, Saint Ann, Saint Brendan, Saint Elisabeth, the Archangel Michael, Saint James, Saint Dimitrios, Saint Jeronymos, Saint Innocent, Saint Nicholas of Japan, Saint Basil, Saint John the Forerunner, Saint Elisabeth the New, Saint David, and all of the saints in heaven. My dad prayed with my mom, Felice, and me. Christ Jesus, His mother and all of the saints in heaven were there with us in Aga Khan hospital that night. My father asked me soon after that, "Do you feel like you need to come home?" I immediately said "no".
I have felt the calling to become a missionary in Africa for twenty years. My parents have been amazingly supportive all of these years. Through all of the difficulties I have faced and will face during the last twenty and the next two years, it is all for the good of my salvation. Even though one of my worst fears came true, it has only affirmed to me that only with Christ Jesus and all of the saints in heaven, can I continue to assist in the mission field in East Africa. This experience will not only help me to be a better nurse, it will also help me be a better person.
As a registered nurse (RN), I enjoy taking care of people when they are seriously sick. Many times it is hard to understand why someone is so upset over what is, to us, as medical professionals, a simple task/procedure. Many times, we as RNs think someone is over-reacting to their situation (getting an IV, or medication injection). As RN's/doctors we lose our compassion for peoples' fears. We get too busy and don't find out the important things that give us the whole picture of the whole person. I have been a patient before; I have been in doctors' offices; I have had a day surgery, and, once, I had to go to the ER after having surgery. But this time of being the patient opened my eyes to something, that I sometimes forget. As a nurse, I have always concentrated on what I needed to do to the patient to get them better. I often didn't step back enough to listen to them. But, in this situation, even though I understood everything that was going on, it was just different. I tried to be an obedient patient, but the medical system is very different--not to mention the cultural differences and language. Everything that was done to me, I had done to others hundreds of time. But now I will try to understand and sympathize more with my patients about their fears and emotions that they might have when they receive unexpected news.
Ten days after being discharged from the hospital, I left Dar es Salaam with my fellow missionaries (James Hargrave, Michael Pagedas, and Felice Stewart) and arrived in Mwanza. Mwanza is where His Eminence Jeronymos's Archdiocese office is located. We spent a day or so with His Eminence and then left for Bukoba, where we will live for the next two years. We will be working at Resurrection Hospital and assist in projects as His Eminence requests. His Eminence departed for the annual synod meeting in Egypt just before we left for Bukoba, and we have now been here for a little over a week. We have continued to unpack, and we are gradually getting settled in our home. His Eminence is schedule to return from Egypt at the end of the week. We will ask for his blessing to continue learning Kiswahili and to gradually help at the hospital. This is a very exciting time, especially for myself. I have been itching to start clinical work. Even though I will only spend a few hours a week at the hospital, I am so happy to start to "dip my pinky toe" into medical care in Tanzania!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Give the Gift of the Gospel this Nativity Season
This Nativity Season, the Orthodox Christian Mission Center (OCMC) is offering a wonderful way for you to honor someone you love while at the same time supporting the training and care of long-term missionaries at the Mission Center through OCMC Mission Gifts. As you consider all of the loved ones in whom you have seen Christ’s light shine and inspire you - Godparents, Priests, Sunday School teachers, Spiritual sponsors, and family - consider honoring them by enabling the Missionary Department of OCMC to train those missionaries who are taking this same light to share it with others around the world.
One (1) Mission Gift can be purchased for $15, but this value will not appear on the card. We will send you, as the donor, the acknowledgment card(s) for you to present to your loved ones recognizing the work that has been made possible in their name. For more information about OCMC Mission Gifts, or to place your order, visit www.ocmc.org , call Phyllis Skinner at 877-GO-FORTH, ext 164, or email phyllis@ocmc.org. All orders placed by December 10th are assured delivery to you before December 25th!
One (1) Mission Gift can be purchased for $15, but this value will not appear on the card. We will send you, as the donor, the acknowledgment card(s) for you to present to your loved ones recognizing the work that has been made possible in their name. For more information about OCMC Mission Gifts, or to place your order, visit www.ocmc.org , call Phyllis Skinner at 877-GO-FORTH, ext 164, or email phyllis@ocmc.org. All orders placed by December 10th are assured delivery to you before December 25th!
Monday, November 22, 2010
Hotel Mwanza: Update from OCMC Missionary Michael Pagedas
At this moment, I am sitting at a table and enjoying a cup of chai on the roof of the Hotel Kingdom in Mwanza. We have been here for a little over a week, and there are noted differences in our environment and, subsequently, our emotions (as Jimmy Buffet once put it, “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes”). My living arrangements have gone from the very basics to luxurious. For example, I now have the option of hot water in my shower. This is just a stopover for everyone except James, who will be settling in here to work at the Archdiocese office. The rest of us will be leaving for Bukoba very soon. We met with His Eminence Metropolitan Jeronymos a few days ago and were told that our house in Bukoba is ready for us. This house is where the Metropolitan had planned on living before the Archdiocese Headquarters was relocated from Bukoba to Mwanza. We have been told that the house is “huge” and “nice,” so we’re all very excited to finally check it out.
Our departure from Dar es Salaam was preceded by a medical emergency that not only caught all of us off guard, but it gave us our first big test of living abroad (I had wanted to focus on challenges in this blog, and I can’t think of a better way to begin). In mid September, Katie started developing stomach discomfort. We had just returned from Zanzibar the previous day after a relaxing two day getaway. One of the few positives of this experience was that the onset didn’t occur until we got back to the mainland. Eventually, it got to a point where she needed to go to a hospital. I got the call at about 2 in the morning on Friday. “Michael, I’m in the hospital. I have appendicitis.” That was the start of a very long and taxing week. Katie had her operation at the “main” hospital in Dar. Before coming here, I wasn’t the least bit worried about personal safety, political uprisings, eating the food, or the difficulty of assimilating into a new culture. However, my absolute worst nightmare was needing to be hospitalized here and requiring emergency surgery. The health care system here (and probably just about everywhere else on the planet) is quite different from what we are used to in the U.S. This made for a lot of cross cultural stress between the hospital staff and the rest of us. Fortunately, we had support both in Tanzania and back home. Thank you for all of your prayers! A couple of days after her surgery, Katie was transfered to a different hospital in Dar with a more westernized approach to medicine. This made her recovery a lot more comfortable, both physically and emotionally. As I write this, Katie is still recovering, but she is feeling much better. Please read her blog for a more detailed account of being in a hospital while overseas.
While experiencing health care abroad presents its challenges, even forming and maintaining personal relationships can seem just as challenging. After I arrived in Africa, I wanted to keep an open mind about everyone and everything. I now know that this is unrealistic. Sure, most everyone seems friendly when you meet them, but it’s very difficult to ascertain whether they genuinely want to be your friend or if there are other motives at work. Fortunately, there are easy ways around this. At the Salvation Army compound in Dar es Salaam, I was connected to a staff I was able to trust from the day I moved in. If any of them had attempted to take advantage of me, it would have been very easy to handle by simply going to their superior. But what about people outside the safety of the gates? One evening, shortly after arriving in Dar, I was walking down the street to a restaurant all by myself (something that was acceptable because of our proximity to a police station and army barracks), when someone passing me by going the other direction stopped and began greeting me in English. He was very tall--I later found out 6’8”--and had just finished playing basketball. He told me his name was Apollo and that he was a soldier in the Tanzanian Army. It usually takes me about five seconds to assess situations like this and then decide either to keep moving or engage in a conversation to see where it leads. If I hadn’t been alone, I probably would have kept walking, but the fact that I didn’t want to eat alone and that he spoke English made me decide to invite him to join me. Besides, he had just walked out of the army barracks and told me that he was a soldier. I would have little reason to disbelieve that. This chance meeting led to him becoming one of my best friends in Dar, and I have never regretted inviting him to join me that night.
When I’m in the United States, I tend to gravitate toward people who are nothing like me. Here in Africa, just about everyone falls into that category. Following are a few more examples of the many relationships I have formed with people from different backgrounds.
One night, after having dinner with friends at a restaurant, I went to the restroom to wash up. After I walked in, a Masai warrior in full garb came in behind me. I greeted him with the one word in Masai that I knew and he greeted me back...in Italian!! He thought I might be from Europe and perhaps spoke Italian. I speak Spanish, so between my Spanish and his Italian we ended up being able to communicate rather well. It turns out the Masai, whose name is Kanavaro, is married to an Italian woman and goes back and forth between Tanzania and Italy. He invited me and my friends back to his table, and we proceeded to have a conversation in Italian, Spanish, English, and Swahili. Kanavaro and I continue to keep in touch to this day.
-------------------
One of our go-to places for food and supplies in Dar es Salaam was a supermarket called Al-Jazirah (yes, that’s the actual name of the market). It was a Muslim-owned and operated store that had a bigger selection of items than most of the other local stores. One of the other nice things about going there was that we could get there on foot and wouldn’t necessarily need to take a taxi or daladala unless we bought more than we could carry. Every time I went there, I was welcomed warmly, and the staff there seemed to be as interested in learning about me as I was in learning about them. As I mentioned in my previous blog, there is a lot of tolerance among Christians and Muslims in Tanzania, which makes for more peaceful everyday interactions.
-------------------
Early on in my stay in Dar, I met a street artist named David. I actually met David through James, who took me along one day to meet him. I was a bit leery of David’s motives at first for wanting to form a relationship, but I later discovered that David is caring for several orphans (many of them having lost parents from AIDS) and that he and a few others are teaching these kids to sing and dance. David, himself, was orphaned early on in life and is now selling his art to take care of other kids who are in the same position he once was. I have since learned that David has found a new home for the kids and that they have some potential benefactors lined up.
[If you would like to see pictures and video of these people, I will be posting them soon on my OCMC webpage. If you are on Facebook, connect with me, and you will be able to view my pictures and videos on my profile.]
In addition to interpersonal challenges, I have also been facing inward challenges. Anyone who has ever spent a significant amount of time living in another country knows that you need to check your ego at the door when you want to immerse yourself in a new language and culture. You will more than likely make a faux pas at some point, but you need to throw all that aside and forget about it. Otherwise, you’ll never make any progress. Certain things can only be learned through experience: bargaining for a lower price at a market, asking for directions, taking a daladala (public mini-bus). There are other things that can be easily learned ahead of time but can still be a challenge to nail down.
Greetings
I previously addressed the art of the Tanzanian greeting. After a church service in Mwanza, I went up to a friend I have known since my last visit here in 2008. I immediately started talking to him about things, and he reminded me to say “Good morning first.” I had completely skipped over the greeting and went right to the matters at hand. I glossed over my misstep by joking to him that “I’m American and we just get right down to business.” Both of us laughed about it, but I was fortunate that he knew me and understood the cultural gaffe. A stranger may not have.
Clothing
As a general rule, it’s acceptable for men to wear long pants in public and women a long skirt or kanga. Just about any type of shirt is acceptable. I wear long pants (mostly jeans) whenever I go out, but sometimes I just feel like going mzungu and wearing shorts. I have also learned that shorts aren’t as taboo as I thought, and that they are perfectly acceptable to be worn outdoors during exercise. Now, I just tell people that I’m exercising when I want to wear shorts.
Male-Female Relationships
Rather tricky here. Public displays of affection are frowned upon, even holding hands. If a man and an unrelated woman live together, it is assumed that they are married or well on their way to becoming married. Hugging very rarely happens between the sexes, even with relatives, but is much more common within the same sex. I try to respect this, but I have hugged both Tanzanian women and the women on my team and not developed a complex over it. One thing that has taken some getting used to is the fact that it is perfectly normal for two unrelated heterosexual men to hold hands. I knew this ahead of time, but I still get a little self-conscious when a male friend takes my hand. One night, Apollo and I were holding hands while running across a busy street. I actually wish someone had taken a picture of that.
We will continue to make flubs as we navigate through the assimilation process, but it seems as though the locals are extremely understanding and appreciative that we are at least making an effort to be culturally-sensitive.
Next stop: Bukoba.
Thanks to my support team.
Michael
Our departure from Dar es Salaam was preceded by a medical emergency that not only caught all of us off guard, but it gave us our first big test of living abroad (I had wanted to focus on challenges in this blog, and I can’t think of a better way to begin). In mid September, Katie started developing stomach discomfort. We had just returned from Zanzibar the previous day after a relaxing two day getaway. One of the few positives of this experience was that the onset didn’t occur until we got back to the mainland. Eventually, it got to a point where she needed to go to a hospital. I got the call at about 2 in the morning on Friday. “Michael, I’m in the hospital. I have appendicitis.” That was the start of a very long and taxing week. Katie had her operation at the “main” hospital in Dar. Before coming here, I wasn’t the least bit worried about personal safety, political uprisings, eating the food, or the difficulty of assimilating into a new culture. However, my absolute worst nightmare was needing to be hospitalized here and requiring emergency surgery. The health care system here (and probably just about everywhere else on the planet) is quite different from what we are used to in the U.S. This made for a lot of cross cultural stress between the hospital staff and the rest of us. Fortunately, we had support both in Tanzania and back home. Thank you for all of your prayers! A couple of days after her surgery, Katie was transfered to a different hospital in Dar with a more westernized approach to medicine. This made her recovery a lot more comfortable, both physically and emotionally. As I write this, Katie is still recovering, but she is feeling much better. Please read her blog for a more detailed account of being in a hospital while overseas.
While experiencing health care abroad presents its challenges, even forming and maintaining personal relationships can seem just as challenging. After I arrived in Africa, I wanted to keep an open mind about everyone and everything. I now know that this is unrealistic. Sure, most everyone seems friendly when you meet them, but it’s very difficult to ascertain whether they genuinely want to be your friend or if there are other motives at work. Fortunately, there are easy ways around this. At the Salvation Army compound in Dar es Salaam, I was connected to a staff I was able to trust from the day I moved in. If any of them had attempted to take advantage of me, it would have been very easy to handle by simply going to their superior. But what about people outside the safety of the gates? One evening, shortly after arriving in Dar, I was walking down the street to a restaurant all by myself (something that was acceptable because of our proximity to a police station and army barracks), when someone passing me by going the other direction stopped and began greeting me in English. He was very tall--I later found out 6’8”--and had just finished playing basketball. He told me his name was Apollo and that he was a soldier in the Tanzanian Army. It usually takes me about five seconds to assess situations like this and then decide either to keep moving or engage in a conversation to see where it leads. If I hadn’t been alone, I probably would have kept walking, but the fact that I didn’t want to eat alone and that he spoke English made me decide to invite him to join me. Besides, he had just walked out of the army barracks and told me that he was a soldier. I would have little reason to disbelieve that. This chance meeting led to him becoming one of my best friends in Dar, and I have never regretted inviting him to join me that night.
When I’m in the United States, I tend to gravitate toward people who are nothing like me. Here in Africa, just about everyone falls into that category. Following are a few more examples of the many relationships I have formed with people from different backgrounds.
One night, after having dinner with friends at a restaurant, I went to the restroom to wash up. After I walked in, a Masai warrior in full garb came in behind me. I greeted him with the one word in Masai that I knew and he greeted me back...in Italian!! He thought I might be from Europe and perhaps spoke Italian. I speak Spanish, so between my Spanish and his Italian we ended up being able to communicate rather well. It turns out the Masai, whose name is Kanavaro, is married to an Italian woman and goes back and forth between Tanzania and Italy. He invited me and my friends back to his table, and we proceeded to have a conversation in Italian, Spanish, English, and Swahili. Kanavaro and I continue to keep in touch to this day.
-------------------
One of our go-to places for food and supplies in Dar es Salaam was a supermarket called Al-Jazirah (yes, that’s the actual name of the market). It was a Muslim-owned and operated store that had a bigger selection of items than most of the other local stores. One of the other nice things about going there was that we could get there on foot and wouldn’t necessarily need to take a taxi or daladala unless we bought more than we could carry. Every time I went there, I was welcomed warmly, and the staff there seemed to be as interested in learning about me as I was in learning about them. As I mentioned in my previous blog, there is a lot of tolerance among Christians and Muslims in Tanzania, which makes for more peaceful everyday interactions.
-------------------
Early on in my stay in Dar, I met a street artist named David. I actually met David through James, who took me along one day to meet him. I was a bit leery of David’s motives at first for wanting to form a relationship, but I later discovered that David is caring for several orphans (many of them having lost parents from AIDS) and that he and a few others are teaching these kids to sing and dance. David, himself, was orphaned early on in life and is now selling his art to take care of other kids who are in the same position he once was. I have since learned that David has found a new home for the kids and that they have some potential benefactors lined up.
[If you would like to see pictures and video of these people, I will be posting them soon on my OCMC webpage. If you are on Facebook, connect with me, and you will be able to view my pictures and videos on my profile.]
In addition to interpersonal challenges, I have also been facing inward challenges. Anyone who has ever spent a significant amount of time living in another country knows that you need to check your ego at the door when you want to immerse yourself in a new language and culture. You will more than likely make a faux pas at some point, but you need to throw all that aside and forget about it. Otherwise, you’ll never make any progress. Certain things can only be learned through experience: bargaining for a lower price at a market, asking for directions, taking a daladala (public mini-bus). There are other things that can be easily learned ahead of time but can still be a challenge to nail down.
Greetings
I previously addressed the art of the Tanzanian greeting. After a church service in Mwanza, I went up to a friend I have known since my last visit here in 2008. I immediately started talking to him about things, and he reminded me to say “Good morning first.” I had completely skipped over the greeting and went right to the matters at hand. I glossed over my misstep by joking to him that “I’m American and we just get right down to business.” Both of us laughed about it, but I was fortunate that he knew me and understood the cultural gaffe. A stranger may not have.
Clothing
As a general rule, it’s acceptable for men to wear long pants in public and women a long skirt or kanga. Just about any type of shirt is acceptable. I wear long pants (mostly jeans) whenever I go out, but sometimes I just feel like going mzungu and wearing shorts. I have also learned that shorts aren’t as taboo as I thought, and that they are perfectly acceptable to be worn outdoors during exercise. Now, I just tell people that I’m exercising when I want to wear shorts.
Male-Female Relationships
Rather tricky here. Public displays of affection are frowned upon, even holding hands. If a man and an unrelated woman live together, it is assumed that they are married or well on their way to becoming married. Hugging very rarely happens between the sexes, even with relatives, but is much more common within the same sex. I try to respect this, but I have hugged both Tanzanian women and the women on my team and not developed a complex over it. One thing that has taken some getting used to is the fact that it is perfectly normal for two unrelated heterosexual men to hold hands. I knew this ahead of time, but I still get a little self-conscious when a male friend takes my hand. One night, Apollo and I were holding hands while running across a busy street. I actually wish someone had taken a picture of that.
We will continue to make flubs as we navigate through the assimilation process, but it seems as though the locals are extremely understanding and appreciative that we are at least making an effort to be culturally-sensitive.
Next stop: Bukoba.
Thanks to my support team.
Michael
Monday, November 15, 2010
168 Hours of Prayer: An Update from OCMC Missionary Nathan Hoppe
168 hours of prayer
During the period of the communist dictatorship in Albania, faithful Christians developed the practice of unceasing prayer. They would each take responsibility to pray for certain hours each day, in order to maintain a constant prayer vigil for a designated number of days, usually 40. This practice has continued in Albania after the fall of communism, particularly at times of challenge and crisis in the life of the Church. After our year of home assignment in the United States, we returned to Albania more convinced than ever, that we could only be effective in our work here for the kingdom, through the power of prayer.
This week, we are embarking on ministry to children for the new academic year. In the first weeks of October, we will kick off the university student ministry. We decided together with the staff of the Children's Office and the university ministry to begin this endeavor, with a vigil of unceasing prayer for the first week. We divided the hours of the day up among our staff, and then asked others in the church here in Albania and from the United States to join us by taking an hour of prayer each day. In this way, we are carrying out a vigil of continuous prayer for 168 hours. We are very grateful to those of you who have joined with us as we pray, and we ask you to continue to hold up the work with children and university students here in Albania before our Lord.
We would like to continue throughout this academic year with a strong emphasis of prayer. Perhaps we will not be able to cover all of the 24 hours each day; but we would like to cover as many as possible. If 168 people would pray for one hour each week, we could maintain a continuous vigil. Please, let us know if you are willing to commit to praying for Albania for one hour each day or each week in the coming months. If you are willing to do this, we can send you lists of names and additional prayer requests. We look forward to seeing what God will do through his Holy Spirit by the power of your prayers. As the apostle Paul said we know that, "He is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us." (Ephesians 3:20)
During the period of the communist dictatorship in Albania, faithful Christians developed the practice of unceasing prayer. They would each take responsibility to pray for certain hours each day, in order to maintain a constant prayer vigil for a designated number of days, usually 40. This practice has continued in Albania after the fall of communism, particularly at times of challenge and crisis in the life of the Church. After our year of home assignment in the United States, we returned to Albania more convinced than ever, that we could only be effective in our work here for the kingdom, through the power of prayer.
This week, we are embarking on ministry to children for the new academic year. In the first weeks of October, we will kick off the university student ministry. We decided together with the staff of the Children's Office and the university ministry to begin this endeavor, with a vigil of unceasing prayer for the first week. We divided the hours of the day up among our staff, and then asked others in the church here in Albania and from the United States to join us by taking an hour of prayer each day. In this way, we are carrying out a vigil of continuous prayer for 168 hours. We are very grateful to those of you who have joined with us as we pray, and we ask you to continue to hold up the work with children and university students here in Albania before our Lord.
We would like to continue throughout this academic year with a strong emphasis of prayer. Perhaps we will not be able to cover all of the 24 hours each day; but we would like to cover as many as possible. If 168 people would pray for one hour each week, we could maintain a continuous vigil. Please, let us know if you are willing to commit to praying for Albania for one hour each day or each week in the coming months. If you are willing to do this, we can send you lists of names and additional prayer requests. We look forward to seeing what God will do through his Holy Spirit by the power of your prayers. As the apostle Paul said we know that, "He is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us." (Ephesians 3:20)
Monday, November 8, 2010
Four Weeks in Dar es Salaam: An Update from OCMC Missionary Felice Stewart
Glory to God for All Things!
Enculturation and language acquisition are proceeding. Sometimes I think it makes me tired because I am so old, but today I noticed that my young missionary companions were also tired. We went on a very special outing to the home of one of our language helpers. We met his wife, daughter and younger sister as well as five other children from the neighborhood. We had the exact number of lollipops needed. We went to a nearby (for us new and different) location of the Salvation Army where they care for girls with no parents, and to see the gardens of two of our language helpers. We got to try sugar cane from the stalk.
Another of our language helpers has taken us on two outings. First to a huge market place near downtown where they seem to have everything from clothing to fresh produce to hand made utensils and many things in between, and then earlier this week she took us to the National Museum. I have always found that knowing this kind of historical information has helped me to understand the current situations and culture.
This week I have been noticing things in the environment that have been there every day that I have been here, but I have not really seen them before. Walking home to TEC (a Catholic retreat center) from Salvation Army (where we lived at first and still go daily for language acquisition sesssions) yesterday, I realized that the place, which has so many trucks that you can barely find room to walk on the sidewalk by it, is a garage (actually a place where they fix trucks that is not inside a building). Many things happen outside here in the beautiful weather. Most of the places that we go to eat are not inside buildings.
Many times I feel like I haven't learned hardly any Kiswahili yet, but other times I find myself able to supply words that others are struggling and reaching to find. We are learning according to the Growing Participator Approach where the initial focus is on listening and being able to recognize words and their meanings, and then speaking appears naturally later. We are referred to as GP's and those helping us are referred to as nurturers. One of our nurturers is a language teacher who has been teaching her colleagues about this method. The other two nuturers are not teachers, and speak a little English. At times I am amazed at how we communicate with our few Kiswahili words and they communicate with their limited English.
Every Sunday when I am at church, I notice that I know more of the Kiswahili words, and understand the English (British English with a Kiswahili accent) a little better. I am getting to know the people at church a little bit now. The parish is clearly pan-Orthodox. So far I have identified people from India, Ethiopia, Congo, Cyprus, Greece, and Tanzania. Fr. David from OCMC was here one Sunday and so that service was in (American) English. Fr. David went from here to Mwanza and Bukoba with the Archbishop. Many of you have asked me what I will be doing here. When I last spoke with Fr. David, he mentioned that they will be wanting me to use my specialties which made me VERY happy. As I understand it, the current plan is for us to go from here to Mwanza perhaps as soon as the end of the month. There we would get to know the Archbishop and he could get to know us. After a period of time, we would go to Bukoba and start working in the hospital. We will still be working with nurturers on language acquisition and enculturation during this time.
People here are very friendly and help us learn Kiswahili. Yesterday as I was walking to language class I noticed a young man walking toward me wearing an Arizona (University of Arizona in Tucson) T-shirt. I greeted him like a long lost friend explaining that I lived there. He was very friendly and asked my name. With his limited English and my limited Kiswahili
the conversation didn't go much further than that. I continued on toward class and stopped to chat with a vendor, telling him that he was sleeping sitting up by his booth when I passed by on my way home the day before. He confirmed that I had used the right Kiswahili words. Later one of the other missionaries explained to me that he is a 24 year old widower with two children.
Some of you have been praying with me for Mama J's sister who has been ill with typhoid and malaria and will be glad to know that she is better, although not 100% yet. I request additional prayers for two more sisters---one who has come to Dar es Salaam seeking medical care for her heart problems and the other on Zanzibar who is suffering from a sudden paralysis. The other issue I ask for prayer about is that she is in danger of loosing her house, and that pressure is causing problems in the family.
Thank you so much for your prayers, support, inquiries and comments. I very much appreciate hearing from you and all of your support. I am hoping you will keep me posted about what is going on in your lives.
In Christ's Love,
Felice Stewart
OCMC Missionary in Tanzania
Enculturation and language acquisition are proceeding. Sometimes I think it makes me tired because I am so old, but today I noticed that my young missionary companions were also tired. We went on a very special outing to the home of one of our language helpers. We met his wife, daughter and younger sister as well as five other children from the neighborhood. We had the exact number of lollipops needed. We went to a nearby (for us new and different) location of the Salvation Army where they care for girls with no parents, and to see the gardens of two of our language helpers. We got to try sugar cane from the stalk.
Another of our language helpers has taken us on two outings. First to a huge market place near downtown where they seem to have everything from clothing to fresh produce to hand made utensils and many things in between, and then earlier this week she took us to the National Museum. I have always found that knowing this kind of historical information has helped me to understand the current situations and culture.
This week I have been noticing things in the environment that have been there every day that I have been here, but I have not really seen them before. Walking home to TEC (a Catholic retreat center) from Salvation Army (where we lived at first and still go daily for language acquisition sesssions) yesterday, I realized that the place, which has so many trucks that you can barely find room to walk on the sidewalk by it, is a garage (actually a place where they fix trucks that is not inside a building). Many things happen outside here in the beautiful weather. Most of the places that we go to eat are not inside buildings.
Many times I feel like I haven't learned hardly any Kiswahili yet, but other times I find myself able to supply words that others are struggling and reaching to find. We are learning according to the Growing Participator Approach where the initial focus is on listening and being able to recognize words and their meanings, and then speaking appears naturally later. We are referred to as GP's and those helping us are referred to as nurturers. One of our nurturers is a language teacher who has been teaching her colleagues about this method. The other two nuturers are not teachers, and speak a little English. At times I am amazed at how we communicate with our few Kiswahili words and they communicate with their limited English.
Every Sunday when I am at church, I notice that I know more of the Kiswahili words, and understand the English (British English with a Kiswahili accent) a little better. I am getting to know the people at church a little bit now. The parish is clearly pan-Orthodox. So far I have identified people from India, Ethiopia, Congo, Cyprus, Greece, and Tanzania. Fr. David from OCMC was here one Sunday and so that service was in (American) English. Fr. David went from here to Mwanza and Bukoba with the Archbishop. Many of you have asked me what I will be doing here. When I last spoke with Fr. David, he mentioned that they will be wanting me to use my specialties which made me VERY happy. As I understand it, the current plan is for us to go from here to Mwanza perhaps as soon as the end of the month. There we would get to know the Archbishop and he could get to know us. After a period of time, we would go to Bukoba and start working in the hospital. We will still be working with nurturers on language acquisition and enculturation during this time.
People here are very friendly and help us learn Kiswahili. Yesterday as I was walking to language class I noticed a young man walking toward me wearing an Arizona (University of Arizona in Tucson) T-shirt. I greeted him like a long lost friend explaining that I lived there. He was very friendly and asked my name. With his limited English and my limited Kiswahili
the conversation didn't go much further than that. I continued on toward class and stopped to chat with a vendor, telling him that he was sleeping sitting up by his booth when I passed by on my way home the day before. He confirmed that I had used the right Kiswahili words. Later one of the other missionaries explained to me that he is a 24 year old widower with two children.
Some of you have been praying with me for Mama J's sister who has been ill with typhoid and malaria and will be glad to know that she is better, although not 100% yet. I request additional prayers for two more sisters---one who has come to Dar es Salaam seeking medical care for her heart problems and the other on Zanzibar who is suffering from a sudden paralysis. The other issue I ask for prayer about is that she is in danger of loosing her house, and that pressure is causing problems in the family.
Thank you so much for your prayers, support, inquiries and comments. I very much appreciate hearing from you and all of your support. I am hoping you will keep me posted about what is going on in your lives.
In Christ's Love,
Felice Stewart
OCMC Missionary in Tanzania
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Missionary Update Fall 2010: Georgia Bendo
Protagonist School began its 9th year in September! Before us lies another year of joys and frustrations, challenges and successes. Our first through third graders continue at the location near St. Procopios Church in the park. St. Procopios is known to be the protector of Tirana because of the many miracles he has produced here, so we know our little ones are under his care! Meanwhile our fourth through ninth graders occupy three floors of the new building near the Annunciation Church. The school has been beautified with lots of potted flowers and posters with nature scenes, along with photos from special events from the school’s past nine years. I was thankful to see that this year a number of students who had left for various reasons in years past have returned. This attests to the consistent quality education that our school offers. In other schools, academic grades are often given arbitrarily and good grades can be bought; fortunately that doesn’t happen at our school.
This year I am teaching English to the eighth and ninth graders. Although teaching this age can be very challenging, I enjoy spending time with them and seeing how far they’ve come since I first taught them when they were in second and third grade. The new English method we’re trying out will help them hone their four language skills of reading, listening, speaking, and writing.
In October we will start up our afterschool clubs again. I continue to offer the catechism club, “Spiritual Journey.” Last year we began an excellent book together called Divine Messages, written by His Beatitude, Archbishop Anastasios, and recently translated by Deacon Anastasios (my husband, Todi’s new name since ordination). Altogether, about fifty students took part in the club and enjoyed a number of activities. Although our school is not able to offer the club much money for its activities, we were able to host a Christmas party with games, crafts, and snacks all of which the children really enjoyed. In January I told them about St. Basil and introduced them to the tradition of Vasilopita (St. Basil’s Bread); little Esti was so excited to find the coin in his piece. As we ended our afterschool program in May, we took a field trip to Shen Vlash Monastery where the Orthodox Church of Albania has its seminary. The students met the director of the school, Bishop Nikola, toured the grounds, lit candles at the church, and enjoyed games and a picnic. We plan to continue teaching from the same book this 2010-11 school year and also plan to develop the companion activity book we started last year.
Meanwhile Deacon Anastasios continues his efforts in editing the journal Kerkim (trans: Research or Searching). The journal is geared towards intellectuals, students, and educated faithful. It covers a wide range of topics and thus allows the church to reach out to a new group of people. The fifth issue of the journal came out in August and has been well received. The European Union named 2010 the “Year against Poverty,” and the current issue covers many aspects on this same theme of poverty.
In addition to the journal, Dcn. Anastasios also has many projects involving book translations. Recently a book called How Will They Believe If They Don’t Hear was published, and now a dogmatics book by a professor of the University of Athens is soon due out. Several others are in the works. The faithful of Tirana are able to purchase these books for very low prices at the church bookstore. This effort to re-educate the Orthodox faithful of Albania is an important one; after all, they found it impossible to find any books of this kind during the difficult years of Communism.
Of course on Sundays and other feastdays you will find Dcn. Anastasios serving in the Liturgy and spending time with members of the parish, instead of at his computer!
Since Deacon Anastasios was ordained about one and a half years ago, I’ve sometimes found it interesting to see how the average Albanian reacts to clergy. The priests and deacons of the Orthodox Church of Albania always wear their black robes and keep beards and moustaches so they are certainly noticeable—especially in Tirana’s sweltering summer months. For the most part, people from the cities are used to the sight and don’t react much outwardly. Faithful Orthodox we meet on the street are respectful and are more likely to greet him. Some others may stare in interest or make comments to their companions, but usually in the city he is treated more or less equally by Christian, Muslim, and atheist alike. One time though, as we drove along through the countryside we passed a predominantly Muslim village. A group of people on foot saw us coming from afar and as we drew near, one woman yelled out with a face full of anger “Oh Pig!” I was shocked since I hadn’t seen this reaction before. (Dcn. Anastas explained that she called us pigs because Christians eat pork meat whereas Muslims consider the meat of pigs unclean.) I was thankful that this sort of reaction is not the norm. At the other extreme, a few weeks later, we were having coffee together at a café near the church and, as we left, a little boy tugged at his grandmother’s arm, “Granny, look the Lord is leaving!” His grandmother, delighted at his childhood innocence, repeated it over and over, laughing.
Our own little one, Vasili, is almost 2 years old and very active. He gets into everything in the house and enjoys climbing bookcases and onto counters, continually keeping me on alert. He loves to carry a candle or small censor around the house to all the icons and to sing at the top of his lungs! He’s just starting to talk (both languages) and keeps us laughing all the time. In January we were blessed to have His Beatitude baptize him in the small baptistery chapel at the Annunciation cathedral. Our close friends from the parish here are his godparents.
Please keep our family in your prayers.
This year I am teaching English to the eighth and ninth graders. Although teaching this age can be very challenging, I enjoy spending time with them and seeing how far they’ve come since I first taught them when they were in second and third grade. The new English method we’re trying out will help them hone their four language skills of reading, listening, speaking, and writing.
In October we will start up our afterschool clubs again. I continue to offer the catechism club, “Spiritual Journey.” Last year we began an excellent book together called Divine Messages, written by His Beatitude, Archbishop Anastasios, and recently translated by Deacon Anastasios (my husband, Todi’s new name since ordination). Altogether, about fifty students took part in the club and enjoyed a number of activities. Although our school is not able to offer the club much money for its activities, we were able to host a Christmas party with games, crafts, and snacks all of which the children really enjoyed. In January I told them about St. Basil and introduced them to the tradition of Vasilopita (St. Basil’s Bread); little Esti was so excited to find the coin in his piece. As we ended our afterschool program in May, we took a field trip to Shen Vlash Monastery where the Orthodox Church of Albania has its seminary. The students met the director of the school, Bishop Nikola, toured the grounds, lit candles at the church, and enjoyed games and a picnic. We plan to continue teaching from the same book this 2010-11 school year and also plan to develop the companion activity book we started last year.
Meanwhile Deacon Anastasios continues his efforts in editing the journal Kerkim (trans: Research or Searching). The journal is geared towards intellectuals, students, and educated faithful. It covers a wide range of topics and thus allows the church to reach out to a new group of people. The fifth issue of the journal came out in August and has been well received. The European Union named 2010 the “Year against Poverty,” and the current issue covers many aspects on this same theme of poverty.
In addition to the journal, Dcn. Anastasios also has many projects involving book translations. Recently a book called How Will They Believe If They Don’t Hear was published, and now a dogmatics book by a professor of the University of Athens is soon due out. Several others are in the works. The faithful of Tirana are able to purchase these books for very low prices at the church bookstore. This effort to re-educate the Orthodox faithful of Albania is an important one; after all, they found it impossible to find any books of this kind during the difficult years of Communism.
Of course on Sundays and other feastdays you will find Dcn. Anastasios serving in the Liturgy and spending time with members of the parish, instead of at his computer!
Since Deacon Anastasios was ordained about one and a half years ago, I’ve sometimes found it interesting to see how the average Albanian reacts to clergy. The priests and deacons of the Orthodox Church of Albania always wear their black robes and keep beards and moustaches so they are certainly noticeable—especially in Tirana’s sweltering summer months. For the most part, people from the cities are used to the sight and don’t react much outwardly. Faithful Orthodox we meet on the street are respectful and are more likely to greet him. Some others may stare in interest or make comments to their companions, but usually in the city he is treated more or less equally by Christian, Muslim, and atheist alike. One time though, as we drove along through the countryside we passed a predominantly Muslim village. A group of people on foot saw us coming from afar and as we drew near, one woman yelled out with a face full of anger “Oh Pig!” I was shocked since I hadn’t seen this reaction before. (Dcn. Anastas explained that she called us pigs because Christians eat pork meat whereas Muslims consider the meat of pigs unclean.) I was thankful that this sort of reaction is not the norm. At the other extreme, a few weeks later, we were having coffee together at a café near the church and, as we left, a little boy tugged at his grandmother’s arm, “Granny, look the Lord is leaving!” His grandmother, delighted at his childhood innocence, repeated it over and over, laughing.
Our own little one, Vasili, is almost 2 years old and very active. He gets into everything in the house and enjoys climbing bookcases and onto counters, continually keeping me on alert. He loves to carry a candle or small censor around the house to all the icons and to sing at the top of his lungs! He’s just starting to talk (both languages) and keeps us laughing all the time. In January we were blessed to have His Beatitude baptize him in the small baptistery chapel at the Annunciation cathedral. Our close friends from the parish here are his godparents.
Please keep our family in your prayers.
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