Water

Rashidi, far right, and the boys collect water. A washer woman can be seen in the distance further right

Askari: Swahili word meaning "guard" or "soldier"

Rashidi and the neighborhood boys used colorful plastic buckets to collect the brown murky water that had accumulated in shallow puddles along the stream. They dumped the contents of their buckets into a black plastic tank behind a waiting tractor. Rashidi's payment to the boys for their help in loading the water tank is a ride on the tractor back to the house. Nearby, a woman was doing her laundry while an older man was shoveling sand to create yet another puddle in which water could accumulate. This water is the artery of this small village. Now is the wet season when water is plentiful and water can be carried away by the bucketful. During the dry season, holes need to be dug underground to access this water and askari are used to protect this water from pillagers. If you submerge your hands about 6 inches deep, you can't see your hands under this water. This is what the locals use for washing and drinking. Rashidi is part of our house staff collects water this way 2-3 times a day for our washing and watering the garden.

Funny sidenote:  I'm under my tree uploading this post and as usual I have a small crowd of children looking over my shoulder while they take a break from herding cows.  I show the kids the picture I uploaded for this post and turns out one of the kids is in this photo!  LOL I just met him.  He's the one on the far left and his name is Musa.  Cute.

My Office

Working hard under the internet tree

This part of Tanzania has no indoor plumbing or electricity. We collect water from the river or use rain water and use solar panels to collect energy. But one thing it does have is a cell signal, and thus, an internet connection. About 100 yards away from the house is this large baobab tree that I affectionately call “the internet tree.” This is the closet spot to the house that gets a cell signal so I often walk here carrying my computer, modem, and a small folding chair. Here I can make phone calls and check my email. I love to sit under the shade of the internet tree while I wait for web pages to load and listen to the nearby cows being herded, say hello to the locals as they walk by, or try to communicate in my broken Swahili to the small crowd of children that sometimes gather to look at the computer.

Sometimes I feel like I should be in a cell phone commercial to demonstrate the wonders of technology in the remotest parts of the world.

Q&A with Missionary Kim

Interviewing mom at the tamarind tree

Sometimes we forget that our parents are not only here to nag us about relationships and remind us of our shortcomings, but they are also adults who need to make both rational and emotional decisions about their lives. Here are some questions I posed to Missionary Kim aka "mom" about some of her choices that led to life in Tanzania. She is currently 64 years old and has been living in Tanzania since 1992 and running the Wataturu mission with Missionary Ahn since 1997



1. What motivated you to leave Los Angeles for Tanzania?
I came with the intent to work with my good friend Missionary Ahn who was already here with her Christian ministry work. When I first arrived in Dar es Salaam, the international airport was smaller than a rural train station in Korea. As I left the airport, I thought "Wow, there are people in the world living like this."  The Tanzanians were very poor materially, but they have very pure spirits. So I felt that that would make it easier to lead them to Christ


2. How did you begin your work in Makungu with the Wataturu tribe?
When the church Missionary Ahn and I established in Dar es Salaam was approaching self-sufficiency, we began conducting research into ministry for the "unreached people." The information for the Wataturu tribe came from an 8.5x11 sheet of paper published by an American organization called Africa Inland Mission. The sheet of paper showed a map of Tanzania and the location of the Wataturu tribe as a dot this map. At the time, I was looking for an opportunity close to Dar es Salaam. And we wanted to find an area that didn't already have an established church.

From there, we met with a man from the Wataturu tribe. During this meeting at his house, I watched hundreds of cattle trotting into their pens as the sun was setting over the horizon. It was an amazing site, almost cinematic. He was not a Christian, but had a positive encounter with some Catholic missionaries in the past and had changed his name to Peter. He strongly urged us to work in his region and from there we went further inland to an even more remote region, Makungu.

3. What are the greatest challenges you face living here?
Ministry standpoint: When I ministered to the people here, I thought that the tribe would simultaneously, all together submit themselves to Christ. But they already had their ways established over hundreds of years. The Wataturu people are not passionate and committal. Rather, they are passive and gentle. They never say always or never. It's very difficult for them to commit to a decision. They will tell you that they will believe God and will surely attend church. Then, they will surely not show up.

Personal standpoint: Water. It has been and still is the biggest issue. The water is currently collected from rainwater into 2000 liter tanks for use in cooking. We also collect water from the nearby stream for cleaning and we chlorinate this water for bathing. Although the water situation has improved over the years, I've gotten very sick from the water and had contracted typhoid more times than I can count. The locals have a certain immunity to the contaminants in the water that we as foreigners unfortunately don't have.

4. Looking back, how do you feel about your decision to come to Tanzania?
I've had a tough life here, and still I haven't accomplished anything really major. But in my own way, I've done the best I could. If I stayed in America, I would have lived my normal life worrying about making rent and earning money. While my health has suffered by my work here, the 15-20 years I spent was not in vain. Some people said I abandoned my children who were in high school and college when I came here. I can now look back on how they turned out many years later. I believe that they were raised even better than anything a parent would be capable of since they were raised by God. I'm really proud of that. *



I actually have a lot more material that I chose not to publish in the interest of length. If you're interested in reading more, I can post another set Q&A relating to Missionary Kim's work in Tanzania. But of course, as always, all comments are welcome :)

Underneath the Tamarind Tree

Working hard underneath the tamarind tree

Because the roof of our house is made of corrugated sheet metal, it provides zero insulation against heat and cold. During the afternoon, it almost feels as if a heater is blasting you in the face. And so we often take refuge outside. Although it gets warm in Makungu, any shade provides a welcome relief with its cooler temperatures and a refreshing breeze. This large tamarind tree is right outside the house and provides space for afternoon relaxation. Several large brown pods of tamarind are hanging low and tempting, but are still green and sour and not quite ripe.

Road to Makungu

Our Land Rover

The journey to Makungu is not for the faint of heart. Off-roading can be fun with its twists and turns and bumps and jolts. But imagine going off-roading for 6 hours straight in a Land Rover that is probably older than you without air conditioning or public restrooms along the way. Squashed in the front seat was the driver we hired in Tabora, myself and mom, bags and bags of groceries and random stuff we were asked to carry that couldn't be stowed in the back because of the bumpy ride. I'm surprised we weren't holding on to a clucking chicken.

The Land Rover apparently IS older than me and used to be an ambulance car in Oman. The box looking thing on top looks like it should have a machine gun welded to it. I like to think of this car as "Jack the Marine." That old guy who is a bit rickety at the joints with his greying hair and loose leathery skin, but as strong and reliable as an ox

Almost there...

As we made our final approach Makungu, a small rainbow revealed itself. It was as if Christ himself was welcoming us! I wonder if this was how Noah felt at the end of the flood.

Overnight in Tabora

Downtown Tabora on Sunday afternoon

Our guest house is 5000 Tshs (Tanzanian Shillings) per night or around US $4 for a double. There's a communal bathroom with two squat toilets, and a sink but no soap or towels. But the room is clean and breezy and the sheets are pressed and white. The mosquito net is draped over my bed and I'm hoping and praying that I don't get a million little bites tonight. The bug spray is making all kinds of critters crawl up the walls, but nothing too intimidating. Mostly small roaches. We flew in from Dar to Tabora this afternoon on Air Tanzania onto a red dirt clay runway. The weather here is much drier and pleasant and there's definitely a small town vibe with the multitude of bicycles cruising around town compared to Dar.

I'm excited to finally continue my journey to the Wataturu tribe of Makungu, our final destination.

Coco Beach at Oyster Bay

On the shores of Coco Beach

The sand felt like gummy clay between my bare toes. It made a chewy sound as I gently stepped across the beach laden with shallow rocks and threads of green seaweed. Small white crabs quickly poked themselves in and out of the sand as the tide waters passed over the shore. Local children played in the distance while an ominous black cloud slowly moved in to provide yet another brief downpour as part of the April rainy season. A cool breeze carried the smell of ocean back to the nearby open air cafe where my mom looked on, awaiting my return.

The eastern edge of Dar es Salaam borders the Indian Ocean and the city has several relatively unspoilt beaches that are very close to the city center. Despite the chaos, poverty, and endless traffic of Dar, scenes like these make me appreciative of this seemingly remote part of the world.