A Surreal Experience

November 20, 2009

I have just had the most amazing surreal experience.  It all began when I returned to Morogoro from Dar on Wednesday.  Diana and Judi ran to greet me when they saw me walk into the yard.  They were so glad to see me.  However, after that they disappeared.  I did not see them again for the rest of the day.  I went to bed that night, and they were still not home.  The next morning, Judi was there in the kitchen and I asked about Diana.  Judi said she was at church (kanisa).  That seemed odd, but ok, this is Tanzania.  Things are different here.  Maybe it is customary to go to church on Thursday. That afternoon I got home just before dark, and Diana was still gone.  I asked about her again, and Judi said that she was at kanisa.  Well, it sounded kind of like "kanisa" but not quite, so I said "the convent?"  Judi said "ndiyo" (yes).  I wondered why Diana would be at the convent. 

I gathered my things and went to the kitchen to take my usual spot on the chair to study while dinner was being prepared.  I had my final oral Kiswahili proficiency test the next day and I needed to score an intermediate mid level.  I was a bit worried.  Victoria and Judi were already there.  Aggie came home later. Then a truck pulled up in the yard and a man came in.  Mama Victoria introduced him.  He was Father Walter, the priest from the mission church.  We had a nice conversation, mostly in Kiswahili with only a bit of Kiingereza (English).  He said that if my family wanted to visit or if I wanted to return to Morogoro, we were welcome to stay at the mission.

The evening progressed.  Every so often I would ask if Diana was returning for dinner and they would tell me yes.  By 8:00, dinner was ready and Diana was still not home.  I asked again and Victoria said she was late.  I thought she told me to get my torch (flashlight) and we would go look for her, so I did.  As I started to walk out the door, Victoria looked very surprised and jumped up to go with me.  She led me to a small house in the neighborhood.  We "hodi hodi"ed at the door and they welcomed us in.  Diana was there, along with several other men, women, and children.  The place smelled like very old, concentrated, stale sweat.  Someone pulled up a stool for me and I sat down.  Victoria sat near me on a chair.  An old man was reading from the Bible in Kiswahili.  Then a very tall, younger man stood up and began to preach.  There was one light bulb hanging from the ceiling behind him and it was not very bright, so all I could really see was his sillouette.  He was speaking the fastest Kiswahili I have ever heard, and he was working up quite a sweat.  I did not understand most of what he said, but I did catch a few words.  Still, I was mesmerized.  Next, everyone stood and began to sing.  You would not believe it, because I can barely imagine it and I was there, but I began singing as well, in KISWAHILI!  The preacher would move toward me and sing a line, and I would echo it, belting it out loudly for all to hear.  Here I am, a little white woman, in the middle of a group of Tanzanians, singing in a language I barely even know, and no one even seemed to think that it was odd.  After his sermon, the preacher asked me if I wanted to speak to Jesus (he said it in Kiswahili, so that is what I think he said).  I turned and asked Victoria, "does he mean pray?''  She said "ndiyo", so I replied that I did not know how to speak to Jesus in Kiswahili.  But everyone stood up and began speaking in what sounded like "tongues."  Really, everyone was praying their own individual prayers, very loudly, at the same time, so I started praying loudly too in English.  After that, we sang some more songs, which for some strange reason, I seemed to know.  Then the preacher put a cushion on the floor and invited me to kneel.  I did, and he placed his hand on my head, and for the longest time, he preached and yelled and shook my head.  I am quite sure that if I had had demons in me, they would have all jumped out and run away.  My homestay family is Catholic, but this was not like any mass I had ever attended.  After praying for me, I stood up and everyone shook my hand, we sang and then we left.  Walking through the dark, trying to avoid the ruts in the path, and pondering this surreal experience, I felt Diana take my hand.  I was glad that I had gone looking for her.  However, I was still shocked that I had been singing Kiswahili hymns with ease.  We arrived home, and Aggie and Judi were waiting.  We ate a very late dinner and I went to bed.  I was too tired to study for my test, but for some reason, I was not worried anymore. 

The next morning I woke up and walked to the training center with Cheryl.  My OPI exam was scheduled for 9:00.  Others were pacing and carrying dictionaries, but still I was not worried.  When it was my turn, I walked into the room and took one look at my examiner.  Would you believe it was a nun?  I sat down and started babbling away to her in Kiswhahil.  I told her I was going to Kilimanjaro, and there I would eat a lot of bananas and avocados.  She laughed and asked me about my homestay family.  Which Catholic church was I attending?  I told her all of them and again, she laughed.  I explained that Victoria is a lay teacher for the church.  She teaches childrens' catechist classes.  After almost half an hour of "small talk," I finally read and responded to the test prompt, but I walked out of there knowing that I had done well.

"Sasa nimemaliza mafunzo."  Now I have completed training!  Yay!  All that is left is the swearing in ceremony in Dar next week and then we head off to our work sites on Thanksgiving day.  I will be thinking of all of you, especially your nice delicious turkey dinners.