February 19, 2011
The last few weeks have not just been a blur of activity, but they also have provided much time for introspection and reflection about my life. While sitting at home (in New York) close to the fire watching the falling snow or lying awake in my bed staring at the numerous glow-in-the-dark stars that my niece and my mother so thoughtfully placed there for me, I felt a sudden jolt of awareness. Soon I will be leaving Tanzania and coming home for good. It will be necessary to find a real job, one that actually pays a salary, so that I can continue what I like doing best: giving money away. The fact that I am now 50 years old and the job market is still pretty tight may be a cause for concern, but what I find most daunting is finding a job that is as rewarding as this. After working directly for God, how can any other job possibly compare? (Aggie and Fidesta often tease me. Sometimes when we are walking home from the market, I like to pass through the church while it is empty and quiet. The girls say that I am going into the office to speak with my boss).
While my fellow volunteers are contemplating whether to extend their service, I have returned to Tanzania with a renewed sense of urgency to finish my work. During the past few months, many signs have indicated it and my father’s passing confirmed it: I cannot stay. Now I think I understand why. God invited me to Tanzania to sow seeds but not to remain and watch them grow. I came to do His work, for His glory, not mine. All those that I love here, especially Fidesta, Yuda, and Aggie, have seen miracles occur before their eyes. Their faith is stronger. They have hope. However, the longer I stay, the more ordinary things become. Instead of saying things like “God has heard me crying and He has lifted me out of a miry snake pit,” they may begin to say “Look what mzungu has done for us.” I never want them to forget the miracle that brought us together and I never want to begin thinking that I was the one who changed their lives. I love these children like my own and it will break my heart to leave them, but I know that I must go.
Most troubling, however, is where do I go and where do I belong? I feel like I have crossed a line and that there is no going back. I would not say that I have changed, but rather that I have finally accepted who I am. Someone that I loved once told me that I was not like other women. I was crushed at the time and tried hard to prove otherwise, but I will admit now that my friend was right. Now Fidesta has seen it too. While sitting together on a crowded bench in Moshi, a woman approached us and showed us a letter from the government giving her permission to beg for money to help her sick child. As I looked at the baby strapped to her back, the child smiled, and my heart melted. I gave the woman some money (what would you have done?). It was a small donation in our world, but the woman stared at me and in a quiet voice said, “asante” and then disappeared into the crowd. Fidesta turned to me and said, “Madam, I do not know how to say the words, but only God is the one who can pay you. No peoples can ever pay you because you are not like other peoples. Many peoples believe in God but you are the one who knows Him.” Tears came to my eyes, because I have felt different all my life, despite trying so hard to blend in. Now I have found a sense of peace doing what I believe I was meant to do. Maybe it began when my father took me to that little white church and allowed me to go to Sunday school. Maybe it was because my grandmother told me that if I was good, my shoulder blades would one day sprout wings. (She also told me that if I was bad, my head would grow horns). They never did, but I always imagined what it would be like to have feathery white wings and fly above the clouds, harking and heralding, blowing a trumpet, and singing in a loud voice. Now I think that God’s angels are just ordinary people who have chosen to be His servants here on Earth. If that is true, then that is what I want to be. However, there is just one problem, how do I earn money being a servant of God?
Here in Mkuu, I also have too much time for thinking. My students have finished exams and gone home for a month. For some reason that I do not understand, the school calendar was changed while I was in the US and school closed for form 5s two and a half weeks early. I was able to give my students my exam (they had already taken one prepared by another teacher when I returned) and to say good-bye. Most of my form 6s are now gone from my life. I will have my form 5s (now form 6s) for one more term and I plan to cover the rest of the syllabus in that time.
Fidesta’s form 4 test results have returned. She scored division 3 so she may have a possibility of being invited to a government school. The headmasters are at the selection conference now in Arusha. (Results for Mkuu were typical of most government schools in Tanzania: 5 division 1s and 10 division 2s (they will be invited to A-level), 29 division 3s (possibly invited to A-level), 90 division 4s (no A-level but a few may be able to become primary school teachers), and 50 failures (education finished). ) Now we are searching for a private school for Fidesta in case she does not get accepted to a government school. Needless to say, it is very discouraging. The good schools with teachers who care for every class, books, resources, and security will not take her with her grades. The private schools that will take her have abysmal academic performance. Fidesta is a bright girl who has had a very difficult life. She says it is a miracle that she even made it through form 4. I pray that she will find a place. She deserves a chance.
February 26, 2011
I have just returned from Morogoro and this is the first opportunity I have had to use the internet in quite a while. Victoria’s house will be inhabitable soon, maybe even with cement floors. That is good, because she and the girls are supposed to vacate the place where they are staying on Monday.I have been praying that God would show us an A-level school for Fidesta, and in Morogoro, we found it. It is an all-girl Catholic boarding school called Bigwa Sisters Secondary School. They have a very good performance record for arts combinations and this year will begin offering science combinations. Fidesta wants to study PCB (physics, chemistry, and biology), but will also apply for HGK (history, geography, and Kiswahili) in case they do not get enough students to begin the science program. The priest showed us their three new modern laboratories, and I was impressed. Sort of wished I was working there. However, like most things in Tanzania, I cannot just accept things at face value. Problems will surface, but for now, I am happy that she will be somewhat protected from the countless number of men (especially teachers) that prey on girl students. I am sure that the sisters will be strict and will not spare the stick, but as long as she follows the rules and is good to them, they should be good to her. I am not sure how she will do in PCB, but I will provide the books and anything else that she needs before I return to America.
