My Dad

My Dad

I have lived so far from home for so many years that I sometimes wondered if I still really knew my dad.  I always knew that he was friendly and that he truly loved people, but despite this knowledge, I was amazed at the numbers who came out on a very cold winter night to offer condolences and to say good-bye to a dear friend.  There were hundreds: state troopers, highway superintendents, boat club members, coffee club buddies, friends, neighbors, family, and so many of them said the same thing; my dad was a special guy.  He was kind, considerate, generous, always willing to help a friend, patient, calm, and easy going.  He was never a worrier or a complainer.  He knew things would turn out all right.  The pastor described him as having a quiet inner strength.  My mom said that he was a lot like me. That gave me the comfort and peace that I was looking for, to know that a part of him lives on in me.

My dad also loved his family and he would have been pleased to see how this event brought us together again.  He would have been proud to see my older brother hold my mother’s hand throughout the service, offering her comfort and support.  He would have bragged to his friends about how dependable my younger brother has been and about all he has done to keep this family together.  Tears would have filled his eyes as he watched my sister slip in beside me as I went up alone to pay my last respects.   No matter how far apart we may have drifted over the years, we are still family, and family takes care of one another when times are tough.  My dad really believed that.

With state policemen blocking every intersection, the funeral procession traveled unimpeded, carrying my father one last time through the streets of his beloved town.  Time seemed to stand still on this cold winter’s day, and I reflected again on my father’s life.  His stroke had deprived him of his ability to speak clearly and fluently.  Now I imagined him in heaven talking up a storm, catching up with long lost friends.  He had a good life, a full life, made rich by the love he shared with others.  He is at peace now; I am sure of that.  Winter days will remain with us awhile longer as we continue our mourning, but one day we will wake up and realize that spring has come again. 

I extend my deepest thanks to all of you for your prayers, your condolences, and your support during this difficult time for me and all my family.

God bless friends and family

Kwa Heri Baba Yangu!

 Kwa Heri Baba, Uwe na Mungu Sasa

(Good-bye Daddy, Now You Are With God)

Charles Michael Fuda, Sr.

March 23, 1937 – January 20, 2011

What does God require of those who truly want to serve Him?  He wants us to serve Him with our whole heart, our whole soul, our entire being.  He wants us to give Him no less than our life.  To give up a house, a car, a job is not easy, but it is nothing compared to the pain of letting go of the ones we love.

Mark 8: 34 If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross, and follow me.  For whoever wishes to save his life shall lose it; but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel’s shall save it.

I knew it was coming.  I could sense it.  I made inquiries about flying home in March during my break from school.  I wanted to see my father again.  I wanted to help him find his peace.  Then the call came and I knew that he was gone.  Now I would definitely go home.

As I began to prepare for my journey, the enormity of my impact here overwhelmed me.  It has not just been an adventure, a mid-life fling or “do good to feel good” sort of game. These are real people and through me, God has changed their lives.  He has given them hope.  He has given them courage and strength to face whatever the future brings.  Most importantly, He has let them know love, and truthfully, I love them.  It was difficult to say good-bye.  There were lots of tears and most of them were not mine. I am so sorry that I will not see them graduate.  I am so sorry that I will not be there each morning to encourage them as they take their exams.  Form six may be gone before I return and I will never see them again. God brought me here to Mkuu for a reason, but now He has heard another person crying and He wants me to comfort her.  I am going home to see my mom.

John 15:16 You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit should remain.

When I was a child, I thought that my dad could do everything.  If anything was broken, he could fix it.  If we needed a room added onto our small house, he could build it.  He taught me to ride a two wheeler when I was only three.  I remember him running behind me as I pedaled furiously down the middle of the road.  He helped us catch butterflies and fireflies and spittlebugs as we played behind our house.  Sometimes we even stopped to collect hickory nuts that had fallen from the enormous tree near the old pig pen in the field.  He took us sledding, skating, fishing, (ok I preferred reading to touching slimy worms), and for Sunday afternoon drives.  We climbed fire towers and swam in creeks. We had impromptu picnics as well as organized family vacations.  He stayed up to play monopoly with us on New Year’s Eve.  We watched fireworks on the fourth of July.  He was a good father, so kind, so gentle, and so patient.  He may not have expressed it in many words, but he really loved his family.  I used to secretly like it when he worked the night shift, because he would often stop at the bakery on his way home.  I can still remember the taste of those hot buttered hard rolls and sweet powdered donuts dripping with jam. But what was his most important gift to me?  Self-sacrifice.  He had to be tired after working all night (he was a New York State Trooper) chasing bad guys, dealing with so many people problems, or maybe even just sitting in a car in the dark doing nothing at all.  However, on Sunday mornings I would wait for him to come home and then I would ask him the big question, “Daddy can you take us (me and my older brother who probably thanked me with a pinch) to Sunday school?”  He would almost always say “yes” and then we would stay for church as well. We belted out hymns together.  Thank you Dad for helping to build the foundations of my faith.

Philipians 2:1 Your life in Christ makes you strong and his love comforts you.

Isaiah 41:9-10 Do not fear, for I am with you.  Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.

My dad was not an emotional guy; there were only a few times that I saw him cry.  However, one was on my wedding day.  I was leaving the nest and moving south.  I never really returned home again.  Another was on the day I left for Africa.  Tears streamed down his face as he hugged me tight.  He told me he loved me and he said to take care of myself.  I remember thinking that my big dad had somehow become so small.  Maybe that was just a premonition of what was to come.  The following September I barely recognized him when I visited him in the nursing home.  I just thank God that I was able to be there the morning that he returned home.  The last image I have of him is him sitting on the couch in the living room with light shining once more in his eyes.  He was happy to be home.

How do you prepare to say good-bye to a parent?  Even though I know that it is just a passing, a transition from bodily form to spirit, it hurts to say good-bye.  He is in another place now, a place where the living cannot go.  He has found his peace, but I will miss him.  Kwa heri Baba!  I will always love you.

Isaiah 41:28-31 Do you not know?  Have you not heard?  The Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth does not become weary or tired.  His understanding is inscrutable.  He gives strength to the weary, and to him who lacks might, He increases power.  Though youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength.  They will mount up with wings like eagles.  They will run and not get tired.  They will walk and not become weary.

A New Year

A New Year

January 14, 2011

Christmas has past and a new year has begun.  Yuda has returned to school, Beatrice has returned to the hostel, and Aggie and Fidesta are home.  It was a good holiday, one that I am sure Yuda will remember for many years.  I remember the day I hiked up the mountain (into the bush) to greet Yuda at his homeplace.  I remember how his lip trembled and his eyes overflowed with tears as I questioned him about his life.  Now when I look at him, I see hope in his eyes and joy in his sweet smile.  He is loved.

Yuda is fifteen, or at least he thinks he is.  He looks much younger to me, but inevitably, he will soon begin to mature.  I am not very comfortable talking about adolescent issues in English; how would I manage to discuss these things in Swahili?  However, our time together is limited and I am the closest thing he has to a parent.  I knew we needed to talk.  I gave him a set of small booklets written in Swahili about many of these topics and told him to read them.  Then one night as we were studying, I reminded him that I would be returning to America and I would not be around to encourage him to work hard or to redirect him away from trouble when it comes.  He would have to be strong and disciplined in order to do this on his own.  We talked about avoiding drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes.  Right now he says these are all “mbaya” (bad) but we talked about how there would be times when he would be pressured by his peers to experiment with these things.  That is why it is so important to choose good friends.  We also talked about girls.  In this culture, maybe in this tribe, many women are not respected.  In fact, many are abused and exploited.  Domestic violence is quite common.  I warned Yuda that he was never, ever, to beat his wife or any woman, nor was he ever to beat his children.  It was not “his right”.  Violence begets violence.  We had a good discussion and he assured me that he would not abuse anyone.  Finally, I asked him about his plans for the future.  What did he want to be when he grew up?  He said, “I want to be a priest.” I was surprised for a moment, and I said, “Why Yuda?”  He said, “Because God saved me.”  (Of course!)

One of my students, Beatrice, also stayed with me for the holidays.  Her parents are very poor and did not have the money for her to come home.  I offered to buy her a ticket, but she preferred to stay with me.  She told me her family had many problems.  It was nice having her.  She cooked, cleaned, and kept Yuda company.  She studied when she was not working.  As a treat, I took them both to Moshi to eat at a restaurant and to see a movie (Wall-E).  It was a wonderful day.  However, that evening, the night before returning to the hostel, Beatrice told me her story.  She talked for almost two hours and she told me the most heartbreaking tale about physical and emotional abuse inflicted by family members!  Not her real parents but the extended family members with whom she lived.  Beatrice is now 16 years old and is finishing form 6.  Most form 6 leavers are between 18 and 20.  She is young but she is one of my top two students.  As she told her story, I could only imagine how painful her life must have been.  What would cause a 13 or 14 year old child to want to end her life by drinking rat poison?  However, once again, God intervened.  A student flung open the door to the classroom as she was preparing to drink and she dropped the cup.  She did not have money to buy more and that night she realized that this was not God’s plan for her.  No matter what her family said about her and no matter how much they hurt her, God knew her heart.  He had made her wise beyond her years.  She knew what was right and wrong.  She would trust Him to help her.  She vowed to study hard so that she could overcome her life of poverty and help her parents too.  It breaks her heart to hear them cry because they cannot give her what she needs.  (Please pray that Beatrice succeeds).

On a lighter note, I have spent the last week in Dar for Peace Corps training and medical check-ups.  When the nurse asked me my age, I told her I would be fifty in a couple weeks.  She said, “That cannot be true.  You are joking!  (Yes, I always lie about my age and make myself older) Really?  You are 50? I am 57 and I did not look like that when I was 50. I think you are 40.  Where are you living because I want to live there too?”  Apparently the environment in Mkuu agrees with me and I am becoming younger.  Even my country director commented on it when she saw me.  I know I have better definition in my arm muscles, but that is either from writing on the blackboard or from riding on the bus.  Last time I rode the bus in Mkuu, I came home smelling like someone else’s body odor.  Yes, we are packed pretty tightly. We ride like bananas.

Things are shaping up for a pretty busy year at school.  At our most recent staff meeting, the head master announced some changes in staffing.  The teacher in charge of the lab (the one who is not so nice) is no longer chemistry department chair.  The young serious teacher who I recommended now has that position.  The academic master who asked a temporary teacher to fill in my students’ grades on my behalf is no longer academic master, but he seems very happy about it.  Now he is in charge of field trips, clubs, and debate.  A physics teacher has been shifted from a nearby school to our school.  He will teach A-level physics and form 5 chemistry.  I will remain with my form 5s as they become form 6s and help the new teacher with form 5.  This will give me more free time for my other positions.  I plan to conduct a series of teacher workshops to help teachers improve their practice.  I have moved into my new office and will soon assume my role as school counselor. ( English only please!)  I have also been named as head of the new computer department.  We are getting 10 computers through a grant with V-Africa and we hope to open up an internet café at our school.  I am supposed to work with another teacher to organize that and to conduct workshops on computer skills (for teachers and students and possibly community members).  We will see.  Often we have big ideas but they are never implemented for a variety of reasons.

New years are always exciting for me because of the possibilities they bring.  I pray that this one is a good one.