Background:

More below: The Trip § Suggested concrete actions

Background
The Northwestern Ohio Synod (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America) has been linked in partnership with the Dodoma Diocese of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania (Kanisa la Kiijili la Kilutheri Tanzania (KKKT) in Kiswahili, the commonly used official language) since 1989. The purpose of the linkage is to improve communication, encourage a wider sense of the church's mission in the world on both sides, and to facilitate personal, church and other links. The Central Conference of the Synod is linked with the Wotta Mission District, which has grown from nothing to almost 4000 members since 1979.

St. Mark Evangelical Lutheran Church, Ada, Ohio, is linked with the Ipwaga Lutheran Parish in the Wotta Mission District, which has more than 550 members in the main town church and 50 to about 100 each in several subcongregations in the surrounding area. Ipwaga is a village of almost 9000 people located on a granite knob in the central highlands of Tanzania, southeast of Dodoma.

• General information on and information about Tanzania may be found here.
• A map of Tanzania is found here. The Dodoma Diocese corresponds to the area of the Dodoma region on the map.

St. Mark and Ipwaga have exchanged a few letters since 1996, and in 1998, Ipwaga invited us "in the name of Jesus Christ" (an offer you can't refuse) to visit. Stu Smith (then a member of St. Mark and now a member of First Lutheran Church, Upper Sandusky, OH) volunteered to join the Synod delegation planning a trip for July 1999, during the winter dry season. In preparation for the trip, the group had a series of meetings to work on (1) our goals and expectations, (2) learning more about the KKKT and its mission, and (3) generally preparing for the trip. Members of the entourage: Joey LaVigne, Doris Mars, Pastor Paul Hegele (all of Toledo), Pastor David Bliss (Trinity Arcadia), Stu, Bishop Marcus Lohrman and his son, Adam Lohrman, and photographer Mike Quinn. Mike (our token Catholic ;-)) and Pastor Hegele have developed a television program for the Synod on the KKKT and its work and mission (shown on TV-24 Toledo and available on video).

Flying is so glamorous. Our Boeing 747 was completely full to London, where we arrived at 0700, and after passing through the cattle run of immigration and customs, we had time to kill until our 2300 (1100 p.m.) flight out to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. The group decided to tour Windsor Castle, recently opened for the public to raise funds for restoration. The castle and its halls are amazingly opulent. Christ Cathedral, inside, is most notable for the notables of several centuries buried inside, and all the plaques and banners for royalty on display. They insist, however, that it is a "working church." Having to make room for bodies sure ties up the Sunday School space, though.

The 12-hr flight to Dar es Salaam is also completely full. Before going on to Dar, we stopped in Entebbe, Uganda (famed for the 1979 Israeli rescue of El Al passengers highjacked by Palestinian terrorists). Clearing and restocking the plane was accomplished quickly and efficiently.  The movie was "George of the Jungle" which several of us agreed was an odd choice for a flight to Africa.

We're met at the airport by Dodoma Diocese Bishop Peter Mwamasika and his counterpart, the Anglican church bishop (Common Mission!) who also happened to be Pastor Dave Bliss' roommate at Hamma School of Theology (small world department). They had joined forces to retrieve our group and Anglican visitors from the Tanzanian customs. We breeze right through with all our gear -- the first demonstration of the influence the Bishop has wherever he goes. Our gear is strapped over a meter high on top of the Toyota Land Cruiser that we will see a lot of during our visit. Our driver, Jerrod, is a master with this packaging, and we seven (plus Jerrod) rode in the back with the bishops in front.

Dar es Salaam is like every African movie you've ever seen: teeming with people, garishly painted buses stacked high with people and luggage, roads lined with open-air shops. This continues up the road to Dodoma. Pastor Bliss remarks on the difference a year makes. The Dodoma road is pretty good tarmac (it gets attention because the "Big Eggs" have to drive to Dodoma from Dar, as Dodoma is now the nation's official capital). Power is coming everywhere and villages along the road have lights. Repairs continue on the road and water pipes are being laid along it. The detour is first indication of why the Land Cruiser is a vehicle of choice in Tanzania.

Before setting out for Dodoma, we stopped at the hostel run by Magomezi Lutheran Church, drank sodas (including Tangawezi -- highly recommended) and had a nice meal of chicken pilipili (think Buffalo wings) and chipis (French fries). This hostel is vizuri sana (very nice) if Camp Luther is OK for you. If not, don't come to Tanzania. You won't enjoy it.

On the way, we stop at the Bishop's little spread or shamba of about 6 hectares (12 acres) where he has a masonry house and raises papaya, passion fruit, bananas, oranges, maize and vegetables. Fresh papaya eaten like melon is beyond description (Ambrosia?) and bananas right off the tree without pesticides are all right by me. Travelers' note: papaya is good for digestion and wards off stomach problems.

The first night is spent at Morogoro Junior Seminary and teacher's college (rooms and common baths) and we were introduced to the stunning starry black night sky still visible in Tanzania, including the Southern Cross to the west and the better view of the Milky Way (the rest of our galaxy's billion stars) that you get in the Southern Hemisphere.

We didn't know it then, but Bishop Mwamasika was feeling us out. Past groups from the Synod have offered varied blessings, and he wants to see what kind of group this is. He asks, "What are our expectations?" He seems pleased with our responses -- we are here to learn and take back what we find out. It is also clear that the KKKT is an empowering church: The pastor leads and watches the theology, the people are active in ministry. Bishop notes: "I don't want to hear that a church locks its doors if a pastor cannot be present." We all agree that we need to relearn this instead of depending so heavily on pastors -- but that the pastors must be the leaders. The Bishop is a charismatic leader: He can work any crowd -- a great servant of God in this time and place. He's a former member of Tanzania's Parliament and well-known and connected.

Selling: We get our first taste of the street selling by kids working on commission from stores and suppliers on our way to Morogoro. We're instantly surrounded when we stop for sodas and to "scratch our legs and arms."  We begin learning to say "no" politely and firmly. This industriousness of the people can surely be tapped in a more dignified way by enterprises willing to take a chance on Tanzania.

July 10 is traveling to Dodoma. We're still clean. Driving through Mikumi National Park, we see giraffe and elephant -- and the street sellers. We arrive in Dodoma at the cathedral church (partners with Holy Trinity, Toledo) at 1830 and are warmly welcomed. We look awful and feel great. People have been waiting for hours. Doris, who is African-American, encounters the first of misunderstandings about her nationality. Her host family sent a son to pick her up. He went home and said there were no Americans for them. The host father, a psychiatric physician, goes back and finds her. We're told we will be preaching -- the next day on Sunday! Go with the Spirit we're told -- easy for them to say!

My family is from Mnadani Parish (partners with St. Lucas, Toledo) on the outskirts of Dodoma. They're very nice people, a middle-class family, the Kingus, with a 20-hectare spread with all the usual crops, including redroot amaranth (our common garden weed) grown for salad. They have a shower and flush toilet -- the last I will see for awhile. Mr. Kingu is a retired government revenue agent and now he and and wife Salome (who visited us in 2001) have an auto parts business. The oldest son, with a business degree, is talented, witty, and (at the time, not now), unemployed. He and his charming sister are the first of many I'll see that would do an employer a lot of good. Their home spiritual life is impressive: Prayers before and after meals, evening devotions before bedtime -- a great way to calm down for rest.

I preached two services, the first at 0700 (thereabouts -- we're on "African time") and taught "My God is so Big" to the Sunday School to what looked like a sea of wide-eyed little kids to whom I must have looked pretty exotic. We tried to do it in Kiswahili, but "so strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do" is a windy mouthful in that language that doesn't fit the tune. We do it in English. Sarah and Jessica made about 100 friendship bracelets and I distributed these to the children.

My sermon is on tape, courtesy of Mr. Kingu and Albert (who really knows how to use the video camera). After services are concluded inside, people adjourn outside to sing some more. I'm introduced to the common custom of auctioning off non-cash offerings. In each congregation, one man acts as auctioneer, putting on quite a show. People buy the corn, fruit, even goats and take them home. They may buy them, then turn them back to the church for a second auctioning to increase the money raised.

We dedicated a new church in the afternoon and ate AGAIN. I finally meet Pastor Shalua, then pastor of Ipwaga parish, but now transferred: He's a thin, grave-looking man (short of 40 years) with a shy smile, dressed in black suit and clerics, and green flipflops. Later Sunday at the Kingus, we caught the end of the Women's World Cup and the U.S. shootout victory over China. Otherwise, TV is an embarrassment. This is how they learn of America?

On Monday, July 12, I catch up with the group at the Arusha Road church, where it was decided that I go immediately to Ipwaga with Pastor Ngowo (now in the USA for two years) and Pastor Shalua, due to the long drive. First, we had some repairs made on Pastor Ngowo's Land Cruiser, made by a capable mechanic that they trust. While that was going on, Pastor Festo and I walked to the Dodoma center market to buy materials for our trip. This was very much typical Tanzanian shopping in a corridor of small shops that looks much like the county fair. Here, on foot, the hawkers don't bother you much. We selected fruits, vegetables, coffee, tea and some other essentials, then walked back to the Cathedral center, where we were picked up for the five-hour (about 150 km) bone-jarring ride to Ipwaga. 
Our driver today and most of the rest of the trip was Mehenge, whose family lives in Ipwaga. Mehenge is typical in that he would have no trouble as a Grand Prix racer. He is careful, but only just enough. He runs the high center-of-gravity vehicle as fast as it will go (about 100-110 kph) on good stretches to make up for the slow progress on bad stretches (15-30 kph), with a deft sense of where to go at each obstacle.

We stopped in Mpwapwa, where we regathered Pastor Shalua. Here in this relatively prosperous district town, the church runs a shop to assemble solar cookers and solar charged lamps. The KKKT promotes solar lamps and cookers as a way to reduce dependency on wood (thus reducing impact on the land) and foreign (typically Moslem) kerosene. The shop provides good employment for a number of people and could be a model for other such industries in the region.

We were welcomed in the usual overwhelming fashion that puts us to shame. The youth and senior choirs sang, and we had the inevitable speeches, followed by tea in the Pastor's home. There is no line power here. Our light is the single solar-fluorescent lamp. My room is simple and clean. I could have left the sleeping bag at home (except I used it later). I am given a kerosene lamp, but no matches for when I turn it out. And believe me, it is dark as a cave at night. The stars are stunning.

It should be noted that both Pastor Shalua and Pastor Ngowo (who is the District Pastor) had been serving without salary for some time when we came, and had to earn money on the church's plots or shambas to help support their families. It is poorer here than it is possible for most of us to imagine. Power would help, but nothing is free. Once described as good, the soil I saw is eroded and certainly diminished from what it was. They need other forms of income.

Tuesday was a big day. We started by making bricks with a lot more ceremony than I suspect is the norm. The women came in singing, carrying water, and added it to a pile of mixed sand and clay. I help the men, including Pastor, to mix the brick mix and add it to forms in which the mixture is compacted. Between that and whacking at corn with the big jambi hoes (like the one carried by the woman in the carving they sent us), I think I passed some kind of test as to whether I was a man accustomed to work. During the hoeing, I made like Bwana, hands on hips, directing people to work. They thought that was hilarious.
I met with the Village Council and the District of Lumuma chairman, Mr. Boniface Simbachawene, and we talked about development, water and life in general. We reviewed the water situation, and I learned more about the water system supplying Ipwaga (the descriptions are all verbal, nothing written down, no real diagrams). We shooed a hog away and looked at one of the standpipes where people draw water. It is really not a bad system, but does not have enough capacity, and the standpipe valves are vulnerable to damage.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

We visited the schools and town dispensary, which was really depressing for me. They have little or nothing in the way of instructional materials, and children are very crowded together. If a student wishes to go on to secondary school, they have to board at Mpwapwa or Aya School. University is in Dar es Salaam. The dispensary/clinic has no inside running water, and not a lot of anything else. 

Visiting with the church groups was much more positive. The parish women's cooperative works together on crafts and projects to earn money, much like women's groups all over the world in poorer countries, and a generation or two ago right here. The women make the baskets such as we have here, and do the crochet and tailoring we've shown in the video and the examples we have for display. It is tough to "get a leg up" because crops have been poor and money practically nonexistent, so they need money to buy a bolt of cloth so they can tailor with it and make money... The usual vicious circle of the poor.

The women are very impressive. They work hard, are very patient, and radiate hope. 

We discussed what we could do together, one thing being marketing of their handiwork here where real money can be made. We discussed the usefulness of learning English to "talk with the elephants." Zelly Mtuta (shown here) was elected to work on it. She's 30, with husband and two children, chairman of the cooperative, and passionate for improving life.
 
 
 
 
 

The choir/youth group is the "hope of tomorrow" and numbers 63 in the youth group, with 25 in the choir (wouldn't that be wonderful in our youth group?). They widely participate in the parish, working in evangelism, traveling around as a choir in mission throughout the Wotta Mission District and elsewhere in the Diocese. They are a happy, handsome, impressive group singing and swaying in rhythm. Their current guitars are handmade electric models, with an amplifier powered by a rig involving multiple D batteries and wires. More example of ingenuity of these people. But they want to get "real" (craft-made) guitars and they want uniforms "to be more attractive to others." I tell them there is no problem with their being attractive as they are. Naturally, despite fundraising, they are always ponying up individually for batteries and transport, and sometimes travel 10 km or more on foot to engagements.

We have a wide-ranging discussion on life in America, the church, our condition, and ... AIDS. Others drift in as we talk. I express my admiration for their enthusiasm, the beauty of their singing, and ingenuity. I summarize how our churches have "leveled off" and how people take it for granted, distracted by many other things, and how we need to be inspired by them. We talk about how AIDS came to America (I'm vague about the apparent original and primary mode of transmission here as homosexual behavior is not a regular part of this culture). We talk about the limitations of medicines and how the church's standard of sexual purity before marriage and one husband-one wife is the only preventative for AIDS.

On the 14th, my group picks me up. I look shell-shocked after the schools, not to mention my five-day beard and general lack of a real bath (as I am accustomed to it) and clothes wash. They tell me about encountering a woman walking on the road, offering her a ride. She doesn't have much use for the church, which didn't help her when her husband was beating her. She was then leaving. Doris Mars in our group talked with her, relating her own difficulties with a dominating husband, and how her faith pulled her through. Leaving Ipwaga, lo and behold, who do we meet up with? The husband. Bishop Mwamasika hops out and talks awhile with him, relating the conversation. The husband is repentant. He doesn't want her to leave. He agrees to go to the church and to get his family involved and to work it out. What a scene!

We travel up to Mt. Lufu, home of Pastor Festo Ngowo. The village is 3000 people 2800 m up. We're bouncing on full stomachs up a 29 km road just recently finished -- entirely by hand -- by 800 townsmen, 70 students, and the Bishop himself. Gender is important -- Trinity Arcadia and the KKKT are trying to make it the standard behavior for men to work -- a new concept to some. The road makes real commerce possible as a truck or tractor and wagon can get up there now.

Two boys have been digging a well with jambi, bucket and rope on a winch, next to the church. They were at 80 feet and had hit some water. This is through unstable volcanic rock and soils. We're in two Land Cruisers, and the second one, with the Bishop Lohrman, slides back into a bank, then nearly topples. We stop when we don't see them following and look down to see them walking. The Bishop Mwamasika (who was the first evangelist to come to Lufu on motorcycle, years before) hollers down "Hello Bishop! What are you doing down there, ha ha!" He laughs like the Caribbean man in the 7-Up commercials. We have another rousing service in the dark after a spectacular sunset. To be on our way, we come back down this, singing hymns and praying the whole way.

Kibakwe: The Diocese hostel offers employment, self-reliance, and hot water to wash and a pretty good latrine, all the comforts one could need. It has all the amenities: solar lights and radio, solar cooker, beds, and good food. Kibakwe's and Mpwapwa's hostels offer the absolute state of art "sani choo."

 
 

From Kibakwe, we traveled out to a large tree many kilometers out in the bush to witness a sign of the church in action in the Mission District: we're baptizing 120 people today. This is a new congregation formed from Bantu people of traditional (animist) or nonreligious background. See the video. It's amazing: the singing, the pastors and bishops in full robes processing through the bush, the logistics of baptizing so many.

Here again, the class business crops up. The service people work hard and long. They are cleaning up until after midnight (all those people, and dishes to be washed by hand in tubs), then someone starts hot water the next morning at 0430.

Dodoma is the capital of the nation, but had water out part of the week. Still, it is a pleasant city and entirely livable -- if you have a gated house, driver, and tank on the roof.

Aya School is a gem of the KKKT's work to improve the life of the people. It is a boarding secondary school teaching a variety of subjects. The campus is very nice. The next morning, I finally get away to walk, African style, up the hill on the road. One man asks me where I'm going (I understand!) and I make myself understood that I'm just walking from the school. This would be a great place to send teachers.

After church and staying over in Kondoa, which is a majority Moslem place, we go WAY back in the bush over really bad tracks to visit a new Masai church. These are really Masai, just like in National Geographic. They offer warm milk laced with their antibacterial medicine, and Pastor Bliss drinks, to no ill effect. They don't offer blood. The adult men (those who have killed a lion) get fired up and start a call-and-response dance and song with the women. Bishop M, afraid that they might "get crazy" cuts them off (he says they really do get so worked up and people get hurt - much like Ohio State fans after the Michigan game). What a fantastic place and people.

Unless you four-wheel a lot in the West, I don't think you can imagine what this traveling is like. Plus, Bishop M. is driving in full testosterone mode. Mike, who races off road, and I start a chorus of "Physics, Bishop, Physics" referring to the top-heavy Land Cruiser swaying alarmingly from side to side. "There is no free will in the Lord's laws of physics." Doris, the meditator and prayer of the group, prays for our calm. We make it (luggage too).

It is paradise in the Lutheran Centre's hostel. We have hot and cold running water that works. We can shower and shave. We pile in and go out to dinner, and all order pizza. We insist that Mehenge sit with us at the table, American style. He doesn't read. Bishop orders the usual chicken chakula for him, but Adam Lohrman offers him pizza and he likes it. Another convert.

Arusha is prosperous, noisy, dirty, Third World city on the Cairo-Johannesburg Road spanning Africa north-south (in fact, it is the halfway point on the road). It has bad streets and water you can't drink. More prosperous than Dodoma, it lacks the gentle charm. People here are "on the make" working the tourist industry. We ate several times at the Safari Inn and Grill, bought as a shell in 1997 by the KKKT/ELCT, refurbished and now employing church members. It is a great location, catering to the Euro-tourist crowd.

If you like haggling, this is the place, especially "the mall" down the street from the Lutheran Centre -- but save your ebony-buying money for Dar es Salaam (where there is a vast, fascinating ebony craft market, run predominantly by Christians). Most street vendors are OK kids just trying to make a living on commissions paid by store owners. Imagine if this moxie and sales expertise were properly harnessed. The stationery and bookstore next to the Lutheran Centre was a good place (should have gone there first), and the Pak guy's store across the street is first rate. Avoid the flashy one next door.

We have conversations with KKKT officials and also visit a local evangelist to Moslems, evangelist F.A. Mleli, who is a convert to Christianity. He paid a big price. He was thrown out of his family -- that is, his extended family, not just the nuclear one -- and since his father was a sub-chief, living around home was not possible. We meet others: Jamal, a former Koranic scholar who studied in Cairo, then encountered literature on the Christian scriptures, converted, and found himself without home or people, the woman, whose husband is a Moslem, but drinks. She converted. He's coming around. This ministry, Njia ya Uzima, uses the pure love of Christ with no strings, taking people in and helping them, offering salvation unavailable in Islam, which offers just a weighing of good and bad (Mohammed's theology is remarkable unimaginative when you really look into it). N ya U has about 1000 converts. This is the Church. The compound needs strong security. Despite generally cordial Christian-Moslem relations, this one makes some Moslems very angry.

We have a nice safari to Tarangire National Park (recommend JM Tours -- vizuri sana, very nice!) seeing the big wildlife up close and personal (no lions, however). Coming back, our laundry is back, and I can dress like a gentleman. I feel good again. We fly out on Air Tanzania -- pleasant, competent, well-maintained 737 completely full.

Muzzehs (the Moslem prayer criers): In predominantly or heavily Moslem towns, the muzzehs announce morning prayer on loud speakers. As Ev. Meleli says, it's OK -- they say "God is great and alone to be worshipped! Morning is a good time to pray to God, not to stay in bed! So get up and pray!" Who can argue with that? I noticed the muzzeh I heard in Dar es Salaam was very short but annoying. The one in Kondoa was long. Arusha and Dodoma's were in between.

Back to Dar (a city out of an old adventure flick). Good bed and place run by the catholic church. We're ready to be out of here. It would be OK (with the right amenities) but my wife, work and life are in the States.

This is about people like us: farmers, doctors, pastors, student, business people, Lutherans... Christians. These people deserve our support and our admiration.

Motivation:

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