Dinner With the Bishop

As many of you know I don’t consider myself a great cook or even a creative one. So imagine my fear and trepidation when Tom announced that the Bishop of the Iringa Diocese of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Tanzania and his wife were coming for dinner. We have been managing just fine with very simple meals mostly consisting of eggs and sandwiches. Now, I needed to figure out a full dinner menu so I went to all my resources, consisting of several older cook books and even the internet. Every recipe brought more angst as there were at least two items that I couldn’t get here. Finally, we agreed to try to make a chicken dish. We tried the local market and they did have chickens, but frozen solid and the dinner was in four hours. The other option was a live fresh chicken which we would have to kill and then clean and pluck. Again, this was not a realistic plan for two rookies. Then I spied lasagna noodles in a shop and thought even though we couldn’t do all of the layers (no cottage or ricotta cheese) we could do something resembling lasagna. They did have ground beef so we were ready to go. Tom suggested Apple Crisp which I made a week ago but I decided to go with Apple Cake which I had never tried. I spent the afternoon in the kitchen getting the sauce ready (we have an ample supply of roma tomatoes), the meat and then the noodles. Much to my horror, the noodles were very thin and they all stuck together as they boiled. I tried to pry them apart with a fork but they broke into pieces. I tried another box and the same thing happened although I left them to boil and it turned into a big hard clump of lasgana noodles. Now it was time to put it together and the largest noodle I had was one inch by two inches. So, I forged on and layered to the best of my ability certain that this whole thing would be a soupy mess by the time we served it. I added some garlic rolls and fresh fruit and prayed it would taste alright. The Bishop and his wife arrived at 8:00 PM. We all sat down and as I brought the lasagna around, it actually slid out in pieces onto each plate. Thanks be to God! Our guests were very gracious and said they thought it was delicious. One thing about Tanzanians is they love to eat and they try everything. We thought we would be eating lasagna all weekend but the whole 9x13 pan was gone. The rest of the evening was delightful as we relaxed and enjoyed the company!

The Real Deal

The Real Deal

This past Sunday, Beth and I visited Bomalang’ombe Lutheran Church which is located in a mountainous region about 50 miles from Iringa. It was my first “real” driving experience here both in the mountains and on the real rural roads. The “real rural” roads are dirt, a slim two lanes and are what we call in the Midwest, “washboard”. The ride took about two hours. The ELCT Diocese Dean of Spirituality, Pastor Gaville and his wife, Pamela escorted us (If we would have tried to find the church alone, we’d still be out there driving around). We arrived at 9:45 AM for the 10:00 worship to a genuine welcome by a dozen of the faithful who “sang” us up to the church. As is usual, Pastor Jane Chusi, who has served the Church for 20 years as an Evangelist and ordained pastor, invited us into her home for the pre-worship tea and bread. At 10:30 we all marched into the church. I have never felt more surrounded by grace than on our march down the aisle to the altar. The church was full of people, but even more than that, full of joyful voices raising the roof to the glory of God. It was a spectacular moment. We made our way through the service. At least 4 choirs sang, each a different age, each beautiful. It came time for my sermon, and Pastor Gaville joined me at the pulpit to translate to Swahili. I had chosen Luke 10, the story of the Good Samaritan. As I began to work through the sermon, pausing occasionally for the Holy Spirit to do what She does, the reality of the Word hit me squarely in the heart. I used a number of Good Samaritan real life stories we had experienced while in Tanzania to illustrate the sermon. Illustrations like, the trucker that had apparently lost his brakes and intentionally hit a tree along the road on a mountain pass, instead of going off the edge of a cliff and our bus driver who immediately stopped the bus and ran to help; he was the Good Samaritan! Or the person we had visited, who had a small house, with two children of her own to support; who also invited her niece who had no where to live into her home, then invited a friend’s daughter, husband and new baby in also, to share a place so small, you could hardly turn around in it; she is the Good Samaritan. Then it occurred to me, that nearly everyone we’d met here has invited friends or relatives into their homes out of the goodness of their hearts. If someone was in need, they responded with love. Almost every home has more than just their family living there. It was one of those; “Aha! Moments”. Here I was preaching a gospel message to people who were living it everyday. They were the “real deal”. These are people who had taken Jesus’ message personally, and who had stopped to help the ones waiting for love by the side of the road. There are so many waiting for help here, it’s almost overwhelming. With little or nothing so many of God’s people I met willingly show mercy and like the story of the “Widow’s Mite”, they offer all they have to give. The faithful at Bomalang’ombe must have thought it odd for me to be using such an obvious example of Christ’s love to follow. Yet they welcomed the Word that morning with the same grace with which they were living their lives. I’m glad somebody heard that old story in a new way, and I’m thankful it was me. God does work in mysterious ways.

Driving in Tanzania

Driving in Iringa is tricky. I’m just starting to get used to this right-handed driver’s side with the left-handed 5 speed stick, going down the wrong side of the road. Everything seems backward inside the cab. (We’re using a Toyota Landcrusier) The windshield wipers are where the turn-signals are in US cars, so I’ve been signaling turns with my wipers. But few signal turns here anyway. Just yesterday, after being here over three weeks, I saw someone signal for the first time. The traffic here is challenging. By that I mean, there are not only cars, trucks and motorbikes, but two-wheel carts full of anything you could imagine being pushed down the street, there are bicycles, people walking and carrying huge loads of wood or big plastic containers of water on their heads. Cars and trucks just stop and park, or they go by so fast it sends chill down my spine. The Daladala, or public transportation vans are the scariest of all. They are always overloaded with people who are packed in like sardines, hanging out the doors and windows. No doubt the drivers of the Daladala must see themselves as invincible and immortal by the way they drive, No Fear! There’s a lot of horn honking here. If someone is in the way or walking too far out on the road (two lanes) you give them a short honk. If someone is really in the way or stopped or sleeping at the wheel, it’s a long honk. The honking is expected, it’s part of the program here. Everyone seems to be honking at us most of the time. Most of the main roads in Iringa are fairly good. But once you’re off the main roads, look out. There are deep ruts and ditches and lots of running in first and second gears. Minnesota’s “pot-holes” aren’t even close. Each time Beth and I drive somewhere, it’s an adventure. And each time we’re given directions to someplace, we usually get lost for a while. Luckily, the people here are friendly and always willing to help a “wazungu” (white person) with directions, even to the point of actually getting inside the car and showing you the way. They aren’t hung-up about riding with strangers. I am amazed at the number of people carrying heavy loads up and down the streets. And bicycles are commonly used to carry huge loads of firewood, or 150 pound bags of grain, or cement or bananas. They push the bikes for miles with these loads. The other day we even saw a man pushing a bed down the street on a bike. Diesel fuels most vehicles here. We filled up yesterday, it cost over $100,000 Tanzanian shillings, or about $80 US. It’s equivalent to about $6.00/per gallon, which makes $2.50 gas look pretty cheap. Imagine that! It has been quite an experience to drive here. I’ll never gripe about traffic or drivers at home again. Keep us in your prayers!