A Call

"We are called to go out from the confines of our closed, entrenched communities, to transcend our prejudices, misgivings, and fears and to bear witness together--to the best of our abilities--to the risen Lord. We are called to meet our contemporaries where they are grappling with the most pressing problems. We must do this 'not to be conformed to this world' (Rom 12:2) but to help in its orientation towards the sacramental grace of the Church and the power of her truth. We must do this with earnest respect for the distinctiveness of every people and culture, for the freedom and dignity of each human being and with unfeigned love for the whole person. It is a matter of personal spiritual concern and not a political matter."



--Archbishop ANASTASIOS of Albania, Rediscovering Our Apostolic Identity in the 21st Century

Lesson from the Mountain

"The mountain beckons me to come

to greet the morning sky alone

what I thought was the top of the world

turned out to be the foot of His throne"

~Daddy

     

 

 

 Mt. Meru is a volcanic, sister mountain of Mt. Kilimanjaro found in the northeastern corner of Tanzania in a place now named Arusha National Park. This mountain rises above the clouds at an altitude of 14,977 ft, making it the 5th highest mountain in Africa. I was allowed the grand adventure of trekking this piece of God's country.

 

My group consisted of a young couple from Denmark and two guides - Deo (who has climbed Mt. Everest) and Steven (a Masai). However due to the potential danger of wild animals in the lower region my group was joined by several other groups accompanied by a ranger loaded with a simple shot gun. Up we walked through magnificent rain forest terrain -seeing fig trees, moss and monkeys. The air was fresh, crisp and cool with sunlight peaking through the dense vegetation.

 

On the second day of the trek, due to the energy received through mountain air and youth, Masai and I walked ahead of everyone else and climbed the mountain. Each turn in the trail shot an element of wonder through my bones. Never have I seen such beauty. I said, "Wow" so many times that Masai began imitating me, "wow". I told him once we summitted I won't be able to say anything due to awe. He just laughed.

Our climb lead through the clouds, then above in an almost alpine terrain... where I had my first glimpses of Mt. Kilimanjaro rising above the clouds. Some moments cannot be described in words only song. The song in my heart that whole climb was, "Heaven is a beautiful place. It brings a smile to my face to know someday Heaven will be my resting place."

 

For summitting generally a group will climb in the dark and then watch the morning's sunrise. Masai knew that I enjoy nature without many people so we summitted that afternoon. The last 1.5 miles had a 3,000 ft elevation gain and was like climbing stairs for a long time. Now my 13 hour bus ride and African hospitality which requires its guest to sit and eat were catching up with me. Masai would not let me stop to rest knowing we had to beat the approaching darkness. Remembering he was my guide and had been up this mountain numerous times, I knew I had to trust his judgement despite my legs tiring, the clouds below us and a narrow path which steeply was 'up' in one direction and 'down' (a long ways) in the other. 

 

This is when the words to another song crept into my mind, "I don't need to have a plan at hand. I don't need to have the end in sight. All I need to do is follow You wherever you lead and do what you ask me to." At this moment I realized that following Masai up that mountain could be likened to following God. In the same way in which Masai knew my tiredness was worth the view, God knows our present struggles are worth the glory to come. In the same way, I had to trustingly follow Masai on that rocky and narrow path, we are required to follow God step-by-step. The same way Masai gently encouraged me along, God is so very gracious with us.

 

The summit was breathtaking and left me speechless. There we were looking across a sea of clouds in the view of world famous Kilimanjaro and the horizon as a mystery of possibilities. The horizon not as the end of the world but the beginning of beginnings. That first beginning being right within. I was reminded of Saint Augustine's observation, "Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering."Looking at the wonder about how magnificently gracious God is with this little, single person. This might be a much of a mystery as a mountain top or as awe-ing as those giant fig trees.

 

Rolling Along

As I write, I am rolling across the plains of Tanzania with the looming mountains of the Arusha region falling gently into the horizon. This semi-arid Savannah is dotted with small trees and shrubs surrounded by yellowish dried grasses. Here and there a traditional, circular, watto-and-daub mud home with thatched roof is seen; a lonesome man clad in the traditional red-and-black flannel of the Masai people herding a few cattle; as well as school children smartly dressed in uniform stepping back from the dusty path our bus is leaving while on their daily venture to school. “This is Africa”, as my friend Tumaini likes to tell me when explaining his culture.

I know the landscape will change many times during our thirteen hour safari home. We will pass the luscious, green hilly region of Manyara with its productive land, ripe in banana, greens and potatoes. Next will come a rocky region, which reminds me of how I would picture Galilee or Israel looking, leading onto Mwanza. Similarly, much will change in my own life when in a few short days I must fly back to my Mother Country - This land of affluence, timeliness, English, academia and political correctness; This land of dear friends, beauty, hardworking people and opportunities; This land which is called my mother country but a distant dream to many here in Tanzania.

This morning I read the back of a bus which under an enormous black and white photo of my president read, “In God We Trust”. This is the respect given to Americans from East Africa. Although my own political appreciation may vary, I heartily stand with my African brothers in the words, “In God We Trust”.

In God I trust to the leading from this chapter of my life. As I leave this beautiful place I have fallen in love with and ponder the joys and strengths of my African brothers, I would dare state that their strengths outweigh the dreary, hopeless pictures the West has painted of Africa. In fact my people, the Wazungu, would benefit to learn from their brothers in this land.

I am reminded of a small revelation I had one day peering through a dala-dala window traveling through town. As my western eyes looked they saw ‘poverty’ in the material sense. I saw unfinished buildings, rice drying on the side of the road which people walk through, old vehicles, mismatch clothing and broken streets when suddenly I saw the people. They were greeting each other, smiling and working together. Mamas holding babies on their back, children in groups of five and ten, old people, youth, business men and women. I then realized that in fact my African brothers are rich. They are rich in relationships. They have something right – valuing people over things or ease.

Kat and I spent a few days at Captain Nestor and Mama Rachel’s place in Sengerema on our way back from the village. Captain Nestor and his wife raised six of their own children to be productive and God fearing young adults as well as many others. Now in their older years they have an elderly cousin, couple of adult children, two grandchildren of their widowed daughter and a couple college students living in the home. One night over delicious dinner with the bustling family sitting around in the humble living room, Captain Nestor looked up saying, “We want to finish building our house, but there are schools fees to be paid.” They had already raised their own children, but the lives of others are more important than finishing their home.

Investment shows what is most valued. Coming from a larger family I know that the investment here is in people not things or comfort. I remember several years back meeting a family of 15 children from California. The father said people often would look at him accusingly, “How can you be so irresponsible?” or “There are so many starving children in the world.” He said, “I point to my children and say, ‘Which one of these would you trade for a better house or a boat?’” That father hit home with me - you get what you invest in. In Tanzania, I find a people that invest in each other. So what if your clothes aren’t the latest fade or your bowls are plastic, if you’re rich in love and hospitality for one another?

Just last night while visiting a couple young ladies I told them in America many people do not know their neighbors. One of them just laughed. I asked, “What’s funny?” The thought that a person wouldn't know their neighbors was a foreign idea to her.

I am not blind to the fact that Tanzania has many challenges which loom over its people. However it is important to look for their strengths, to appreciate them and to share these in order to give dignity. I have numerous times reassured my brothers here that my country is like any other earthly system, far from perfect. I find it most important to keep in perspective that we are but pilgrims or sojourners on earth journeying to a better country.

Saint Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling (2 Cor. 5-12).” We see, hear and even feel the groaning of our temporary home called earth, in the news of floods, shootings, disease and evil plans devised. It only takes checking your email and seeing snippets of the news headlines to know that the world we live in is decaying. I would infer that no earthly kingdom or government is ‘better’ than another. It might just wear a different face. Despite God is greater and in Him there are joys unexplained.

In my own life, I have found much blessing, joy and wonder. Like author Philip Keller, “I am learning that life with Christ is a grand adventure shot through with startling surprises and blood-tingling bonuses”. A life surrendered to Christ and living by the principles set out by the Creator creates for a life of peace, even if things outwardly are breaking at the seams. The prophet Jeremiah spoke, “Blessed is the man who trusts in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD. He is life a tree planted by water, that sends out its roots by the stream, and does not fear when the heat comes, for its leaves remain green, and is not anxious in the year of drought, for it does not cease to bear fruit (Jeremiah 17:7-8).”

On my journey homeward first to the States but ultimately to our Heavenly Father’s home I will write on the tablets of my heart that “very Life is found in trusting God”. Furthermore the duty of man is the fear of God and keeping His commandments (Ecclesiastes 12:13). The first of which is a call to Love - an all-encompassing love of Himself and our neighbor. Finally, to my brothers and sisters in Tanzania, thank you for teaching me how to love.  

Wisdom of the Early Fathers...

“Conceit deprives your common life all good faith and trust, but that is not all. It also makes faith in God impossible, since you deny thereby the credit God deserves for the good that can only have been done with Divine help, and believe instead that you alone were responsible for it. Doubtless, there is not anyone who does not crave the praise of others, or some show of gratitude for whatever one secretly thinks, “only because of me”. But this, of course, is just vainglory, when you regard yourself as having qualities of other gifts in suitably high degrees, when you do not. And you are even more gravely deceived when others believe such things about you. 

The fact is that it is God who causes people to esteem you, for their own sake, to make it easier for them to believe what you say...” 

- Stephen of Muret Maxims

My own earthly father challenges me in the Faith like no other person... Here I share one such bit of wisdom he passed from the early fathers to his own children with, "Children I have something to share with you from my reading... listen." Read Daddy's blog ... www.forwardinafrica.com . 

The following Daddy says, "Is deep theology..."

"Our best is not worthy of Him: nothing less than our best is acceptable."

George D. Carleton
"The Spirit of Discipleship"

Winter?

6-19-13

Blog update... Well I'm sitting here, on my mosquito-net covered bed, sipping a cup of lemon water and snuffling with a winter cold. I was told now is 'winter' in Tanzania, but didn't rightly believe it. Until the other day when I was freezing cold with goose-bumps from swimming and the other morning when I had to put a jacket on. For the first, Mr. Gale simply told me I'd acclimatized and really it wasn't that cold. For the other I figured that -well maybe it was just a little windy -er, so something. But this snuffly, 'winter' cold has tipped the scales for me... It really is winter in June.

                                         It doesn't look that cold but ... ya know looks can be deceiving

Now I know places like Alaska and the Iceland have winter with snow and such clear until July. Honestly I did not believe that Africa countries ever had proper 'winter'. Folks the truth is out and confirmed – Africa does have winter in the months between June – August! 

Some signs of winter in Tanzania:

1. Mothers will wrap their babies in blankets and place warm, winter hats on their heads. It may be sweating hot for a normal person... but never mind that babies must keep warm for the winter months.

2. You may see a random young man wearing shorts, an old T-shirt and a baby blue, knit hat which not only warms the head but has flaps to keep the ears extra warm as well. (Saw this earlier today).

3. The pikipiki drivers (taxi motor-bikers) will wear large coats and jackets of all variations.

4. The dirt roads get even dirtier, rather dustier.

5. Nasty winter colds start making their rounds.

6. Someone might ask you, “How is your winter going?”.

Now that you'll are a bit more educated about Tanzanian seasons, expect a quiz from me in a couple months! The Lord is good and sustaining the Dunlaps here in Tanzania. I am continually grateful for each day and all that is being learned. 

I can't post pictures of the students online

I have been keeping busy with spending days in the school. The international school I have been volunteering at is the best primary and secondary school in Mwanza. It follows the British curriculum and as a result most of the teachers are from England. The students come from all over the world. The Year 5 class, I've been in the past month the students are from Tanzania, Yemen, Oman, South Korea, Italy, America, Iran, India, Pakistan and maybe a couple other African countries.

This school is not only the best in Mwanza but is also better than most schools in the USA that I have followed for my collegiate studies. The method of pedagogy which this school follows is in alignment with the methods that I have learned at Berea. The school focuses on hands-on learning with an emphasis on real-life application, projects, creativity, critical thinking and differentiating for the variety of levels within the class. Unfortunately, although we have many resources in the United States our public system of education has turned into teaching to a test and making sure 'no child is left behind' (which actually means that no child is allowed to go ahead). I should say that is my experience in public schools in Kentucky. Many projects it is hard to get the students to stop because they are so engaged in their learning. For example, in my Year 5 class the children in groups wrote a story, acted out six scenes and made a music video of the story. They were so creative with one girl using her arm with a blanket wrapped around it as a baby.

Also, this school allows children time to be children. They are given three long breaks in the day along with an hour lunch break. Often children will either run to play football (soccer) or make-up games with their friends. Also, they encourage the arts with football, rugby, swimming, music, art, dance and so forth. The school took a whole day off for cross-country last week. All the children from the kindergartners to the secondary students raced according to age. I actually got to join the secondary boys on a wicked 5K race that wound up and down Mwanza's hilly roads in the hottest part of the day. The best part was beating a secondary boy at the end who did not want to be beat by a girl, with 40 children chanting, “Miss Dunlap, Miss Dunlap”.

I realize that being able to spend time to learn from this school is a blessing and very formative in my understanding of teaching. As I could have easily ended up at a rubbish school because the education system in Tanzania is struggling. To try to describe schools in Tanzania in a nutshell I would say that the government basically provides buildings and requires all children to attend school. Most schools, both in the village and city, easily have classes of 60-100 children. Until recently, the government only provided about one book per subject per grade per school. Sheila has seen school children that did not know how to use a book, as in which side to open from or how to turn from one page to another. These are called pre-reading skills.

There is also a shortage of teachers at most government schools. For example, one school we have visited several times has 9 teachers for a school of 750ish students. Basically if any learning happens it is from rote learning from verbal instruction. Many teachers are trying their best and do care about the students but have many obstacles to face with large classes, no resources and being underpaid. I know a teacher who gets paid under a dollar a day.

Also many schools I have seen have no running water or kitchen... People, young and old, still value education. Many people will sacrifice much to attend school. We had one such 13 year-old boy, Moses, stay with us, at my host family's house, for a couple days. Moses turned up at the boys home on the hill after being kicked out by a family he had been living with. He had run away from home 2 years before when he was just 11 years old. His family was too poor to afford sending him to school. He thought that living on the streets with the chance of being able to attend school was better than not being educated. He was from a rural village and my host family decided sending him to his home would be the best thing for him. Fortunately his family greeted him with tears of joy and many hugs saying they gone to the city many times over the past couple years looking for him. This is not a purely 'unique' story or unusual.

On Mondays, I often get to join a lady by the name of Sheila to visit village schools. She has been working with village schools for six years trying to help provide books and teacher training. It is very interesting and I have learned that it seems those with the least are the most grateful and hospitable. I do not think the children wearing thread-barren uniforms I see bask in self-pity. They are like children all around the world living the life they know full of curiosity, energy and wide smiles. I rightly enjoy the village and Lord willing will get to spend a week in a village later this summer. 

                                          Sheila with village children

In the evenings, I have been kept busy with volunteering at an orphanage for babies which is in my neighborhood, lesson planning, Bible study and such activities. However my favorite, favorite part of the week is going home (to my parents home) on the weekends. There is nothing more beautiful than being able to spend time with them. We play music together, cook together, talk, write, laugh...and get to wonder at this strange culture together (For example, earlier today when shopping at the market, a mouse popped up at me after I took a coconut from a basket). Today we had the blessing of all going to a Sukuma museum together with Capt. Nestor, Baraka, Mama Nestor and baby Abigail. Here we learned all about the Sukuma people and their history. (Mwanza is historically a Sukuma kingdom. Many people here are from these people. Tanzania has 129 different tribes.) The most interesting part being getting to hold a rock python... 

This is my favorite picture! with Kat, Baraka and myself

Till Next time - Chow

                                          Such a blessing to be here with Mama!

On loan?

“The art of being poor in spirit is to distinguish between use and ownership. A person who owns something – or regards himself as owner – believes he has the sole right to determine how that thing is used. He may use it himself or authorize another person to use it. But this sense of ownership is a terrible snare, because it prevents a person's soul from marching onward to God. The person who wishes to move toward God must free himself from all sense of ownership. He must regard all things as loans from God, even the things which he himself owns. A loan is to be used for a period, and then paid back. This is precisely how we should regard our houses and fields, clothes and furniture, they are loans which God grants us for our short span on earth, to be repaid at the moment of death. To be poor in spirit does not mean to be destitute, lacking in even the basic comforts and necessities. It means to regard nothing as your own, and everything you have as a temporary loan.” On Living Simple – John Chrysostom

I'm the one who speaks a funny language...

"He offered His body,

He poured out His soul,

Jesus was broken 

That we might be whole

Broken for me, broken for you

The body of Jesus broken for you.

Come to My table and with Me dine,

eat of My bread and drink of My wine." 

- Janet Lunt

Wednesday night at Connect group (the Bible study of my host family's church), John lifted a piece of bread and said, "Let us remember that no matter which country or people we are from that we are indeed brothers and sister in Christ." As we all pinched a piece of bread, I was awed, " Here I stand in a circle with a group of folks from England, Scotland, Kenya and Tanzania ... all of whom are seeking to serve the Lord. Furthermore they are my family... Suddenly I have been surrounded by people that I've just meet and yet understand the strong brotherhood found in Christ." Let me interject here that my host family had a mission group from England visit that week. 

From that experience and many faced here in Tanzania, I am realizing the beauty found in realizing the smallness of ones own 'world'. In America, I feel rather confident. My life is very comfortable and I can be quiet independent. I have my group of friends and connections to people from all over the nation. I have a car and know how to get around.... I know where to find shampoo and what the monetary value of things are... I understand the political, educational  and even religious systems work, at least partly. I basically know where food comes from and the cultural rules for relating to others. I am proud. I am proud of my 'independence' and my 'knowledge' system of the world I live. I don't like to ask others for help.

However with a simple plane flight everything changes... except the pride. Here I find myself realizing that what I defined as "normal" isn't really so... I realize that my "world" is really rather small. In all actuality, I am a baby. I am a baby speaking a funny language and dependent on the generosity and care of others. Although my pride does not like to ask for help, there is a beauty in discovering the "smallness" of ones world. For example, it is fascinating riding around in a dala-dala squished between a mother with her four children; a big, bulky sack of charcoal and a couple guys standing overhead then realizing that in fact that it is myself who looks, speaks and acts funny. All these people, I find so interesting, are going about living rather ordinary lives.

  

Receiving papaya from our new friend

I am privileged to have this time to live and learn from the lives of my brothers and sisters here in Tanzania. These first couple weeks have really slipped away. Each day I learn something new about my surroundings that I didn't know when I woke up that morning. Each day is a surprise... I really don't know what will happen or whom I will meet. For example, I have been given the opportunity to visit the Serengeti. For foreigners coming in a trip to the park can be expensive. Tuesday evening I went to visit my Orthodox friends... they were taking some relatives to the Serengeti and said, "We have an extra seat, would you like to go with us on Thursday?"

                                               Hippos in the Grumeti River

So two days later, I found myself munching on a sandwich overlooking a group of hippos in the Grumeti River. Again today after school, I joined my host family on a visit to the boy's home they are starting. On the hill we took a walk and found ourselves on top of rocks with a panoramic view of Lake Victoria. Not to mention being accompanied by about 10/15 local children. Then leaving my host family to catch a dala-dala to my parents home, I was accompanied by two boys who tried to teach me Kiswahili. Then after an interesting 30ish minute ride home (those rides are always interesting... I was basically proposed to on one just the other day), I was welcomed home with Mama clothed in an African khanga and wearing a wide smile. What a joy it was to be home to a home, I'ld never been too... What a joy it is to experience Africa with those I love the very most... The family is really settling in well... cooking on an African charcoal stove and already have neighbor kids running in and out.... that's a little example of just one day....

                                           Fresh from the tree

                                          Above a wonderful sound to wake up too... and a girl showing off her finding..

My heart is grateful and content. At this point, I think I could live here the rest of my life... I do realize that life here is not all surprises, adventure and roses... there are many thorns, hardship and big questions to be wrestled with... as anywhere.... There is much suffering here, of which I really have no concept of... Despite the song of my heart is "How can I keep from singing your praises? How can I ever say enough? How amazing is your love, O My Lord."