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Show Stopping

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On May 8, 2013

In Other

As student council adviser, preparations for the annual Talent Show have been occupying a great deal of my time and mental energy these last couple of weeks.

And last week, all I could think was, I am so glad that I don’t have to do this next year. 



But then Friday night came.  And it was full of laughter and community and great memories.  Now, I am wistful.  It’s always worth it.  And I will miss it.

Oh yes, we did zip line our Student Council president into the show!  (Of course, that was Gil’s idea.  Of course.)

The last act was five little girls dancing to Eye of the Tiger.  In rehearsal, I kept telling them, Look mean, girls!  Look mean!  They ended with a bang.

Compliments

By

On April 30, 2013

In Other

 

We don’t call people fat.  It’s not polite. 

 

I recently said those words to my children during a dinner discussion.  They came out of my mouth as instinct. 

 

And then I stopped. 

 

Confused.

 

Because in Africa, it is polite to call someone fat.  A compliment, actually.  Having curves is attractive.  Being too skinny is not.

 

These type of advertisements are all over Dar.  Dr. Mkombozi (and others like him) specialize in the fine art of preventing theft, getting you a girlfriend, and “male power” (not sure I know or want to know what that means). 

 

Apparently he can also make your…er….bottom…look like this:

 

 

 

I know, I know.  Just what you’ve always wanted.

 

But it’s true.  Africans like big.  If your wife is skinny, she will probably die of malaria.

It’s just oh so lovely when an African friend tells me exuberantly, Look!  You’ve gained weight!  And I give a strangled Thank You and smile the Fakest Smile Ever.

But I have African daughters with American parents, growing up in between two cultures.  How do I navigate this?

For years, it has broken my heart to see our Tanzanian students fret over their body shape, trying to meet a western ideal, when their own culture (and genetics) already thinks they are perfect.

So this is the deal.  I’m going to try really hard to not make fat a bad word in this house.  Thus, I apologize in advance if my children call you fat someday.  Just smile, take it as a compliment, and remember that we are African.  I think Africa’s got the better perspective anyway. 

There’s a verse in the Bible that I don’t believe.

By

On April 22, 2013

In Other

For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you; plans to give you hope and a future.

Okay, so I realize I am stepping on some people’s sacred ground here.  And if not your sacred ground, then at least the Christian greeting card company’s. 

But I don’t believe that verse. 

Before you start throwing tomatoes at me, let me explain. 

I don’t believe this verse in the interpretation that most Americans give it.  I don’t believe that God has granted that promise to individual Christians for every age in history. 

I do believe that it was a promise made to a group of people who were exiled from their country at a specific time in history. 

I’m going to be frank. 

God has not promised us prosperity.  Sometimes God’s will is that we don’t prosper. 

God has not promised us safety.  Sometimes God allows us to be harmed. 

A month ago, a gang of thieves armed with machetes broke into the home of good friends of ours in the middle of the night.  They wounded the father and stole everything they could carry. 

Last night, it happened to another family who is dear to us.  Except that this time, the thieves had guns.  They shot at the father and missed.  They stole what they could carry.  They even tried to get the wedding ring off of the mom’s finger.  Thankfully, it wouldn’t come off.

Both families live just a couple of miles away from us.

Shivers of terror have gone through our community.  But for those of us who have lived here a long time, this is nothing new.  I could probably list about 20 families over the years who I know personally and who have experienced the same thing.

It has not happened to us.  Yet.  I have no assurance that it won’t.

Of course, we are very careful.  I think I mentioned before that my husband has the mind of a criminal.  So he has good plans in place to keep the bad guys out.  We talk about our plan.  We review our plan.  Tonight at dinner, he was re-reading the manual of our alarm system. 

We have not left Tanzania.  God has called us here.  We have no intention of throwing in the towel.  Neither have our friends who have experienced this trauma. 

But God does not promise our safety.  He does not promise that no harm will come our way, even when we are obeying Him.

I’m sure people thought that Columbine, and Newtown, and the Twin Towers were safe places.  But the truth is, there are no safe places.  No matter how much insurance we have, no matter how much we fire-proof our homes, no matter if we carry a gun or how many air bags we have in our cars, there are no safe places.  Our world is broken, and the American Dream is never going to fix it.

So instead of Jeremiah 29:11, I look to other promises.  Promises that I know apply to me, today. 

I will never leave you nor forsake you.

The Lord is with me, I will not be afraid.  What can man do to me?

In all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.

You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in You.

I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future…nor any powers, will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. 

No Place Like Home

By

On April 21, 2013

In Other

Someone recently posted this picture of Dar es Salaam to Facebook, so I shared it.  I don’t know who took it so can’t give credit where credit is due.

But I love the picture. 

This is my city; with the sprawling masses and the Indian ocean in the background.  Downtown sits right in front of the ocean….where you can see the high rises that are springing up as fast as spring daffodils these days. 

This picture shows only a small fraction of our city.  HOPAC and our house are not in it.  But we travel this area all the time.

Let me point out just one other interesting fact:  You see that road that bisects the picture?  That’s the only road going into downtown.  The only main road going downtown in a city of 5 or 6 million people. 

In this picture, the road is 4 lanes, two in each direction. 

Later on, it tapers off into three lanes.

Three lanes, you ask?

What on earth do you do with three lanes?

Well, one lane going one direction; one lane going the other direction and

The Chicken Lane, right down the middle. 

Oh yes.  You know you wish you had one in your city.

Out by us, the road goes down to two lanes.

For 5 or 6 million people. 

Can you see why people say, “I love Dar…except the traffic?”

Groove

By

On April 17, 2013

In Other

 

This family are some really great friends.  And they know how to throw a really great party.  Specifically, a 60’s, 70’s, 80’s party.

(They’re with Young Life; that probably explains a lot about them.)

 

 

Since these pictures could, at some point, possibly be used against us, I am posting them for the following reasons.

 

1.  I want to break your stereotypes of:

  • the type of fun we have here

  • missionaries in general

  • us

and because

 

2.  You’ll never really get to see my hunk of a husband in all his full-leg, sideburns glory, ever again.  Ever.   

 

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