Gooood weekend

This past Saturday, our Social Work department hosted the Peace House's very first "Career Panel." Our special guests included my friend Frida Tomito, an A'town resident, currently coordinating exchanges with Arcadia University study abroad and research programs, and Father Jack, a pilot and priest whose parish neighbors the Peace House. The pilot stole the show since most of our students are fascinated by planes as we border the Arusha airport. He had them on the edge of their seats, even showing a DVD of personal footage flying in his Cessna from Austria to Egypt over Sudan and finally landing back in TZ. He encouraged our students to pursue something they're interested in and passionate about as opposed to working for money only; that'll come with time, he explained. Frida pushed the kids to take advantage of this blessing called free (nearly free - each child's family is requested to contribute a mere $20/year for tuition) education.

Jack also encouraged them to read about the career that most tugs at their hearts and minds. If you want to become a pilot, read everything you can on the subject, he advised. Unfortunately, it's nearly impossible for most Tanzanians - especially vulnerable ones - to afford pilot training and certification, but you never know...opportunities could arise later. And you might as well learn about it in the meantime.

Being curious: it's an attribute I've been emphasizing as well in my time with the kids. It's not a cultural norm, but I hope to increase the question-asking habit around campus, particularly amongst the girls. From what I've observed so far, it's minimal. I'm not surprised; this is no different from the other communities I've worked with in TZ. This is the way it is. But it doesn't have to be.

On Sunday after service, we hosted Muindaji, a local musician, who soothed the students like Sade to tunes like "Africa unite" and other Bob Marley and Otis Redding numbers. It was a hit. He was informed this weekend - after a year of living here - that his name is actually Muindaji (Hunter), not Mwindaji (someone who goes). Hmmm. Better too late than never.

During the Sunday service, which is Lutheran in style (our school land is on Lutheran church grounds), our headmistresses' 2-year old son joined me on my lap. Daniel has officially replaced my previous church cuddling partner in Manga, dada Tumaini. There's just something magical about holding a child on your lap. Throughout the service, he sucked LOUDLY on three to four of his fingers. Precious. And he tried on my watch like it was no big thing. He's fascinated with technology; so far my headlamp, watch and keys have provided the most entertainment.

Lutheran we may be, but what about our Muslim students? Where and how do they worship? Hence, my very first question when I arrived to PH. Unfortunately, our hands seem to be tied due to our contractual agreement with the Lutheran church. I wonder if and how this may be changed. Muslim students deserve the opportunity to worship in their own way. Most of the staff say they should just be thankful to be here and should adjust accordingly. Unfortunately, we're a far cry from implementing religious freedom, but hopefully with time, things will change.

I was reminded of the last worship I attended (which I forgot to blog about) when I completely forget an offering; having noticed my lack of change, the boy sitting to my left unhaltingly handed me half of his offering so that I could contribute at that altar as we do here. He had the equivalent of 20 cents. So I gave 10 and he gave 10. True generosity. Though no one can deny the insane level of fisadi or corruption in this country - clearly, at the core of most Tanzanians is this seflessness, an unconditional sense of sharing, giving and loving.

These kids are really growing on me...

"Time is a flowing river. Happy those who allow themselves to be carried, unresisting with the current. They float through easy days. They live, unquestioning, in the moment."
- Christopher Morley