Final Chapters

 The Final Chapters

 April 28, 2011

I know I have not written in a while, but it has not been because I have nothing to say, but rather, it is because I have too much.   Sometimes it seems as if my feelings are too big for words.  I know that my work here is nearly finished; the story is nearly told.  Soon I will move on.  A new road will appear and I will follow it.  A traveler always does.

There are so many lessons I have learned, so many things I will miss (or not).  Where in America will I have the opportunity to literally embrace my neighbors on a public bus, maybe even popping my shoulders to try to fit in? Where will I buy stiff porridge if I have a late night craving for a large lump?   I dream about America: going to a mall, eating pizza, driving a car, taking a hot shower, having electricity and water every day.  Yet, as I sit on my porch, I realize that in some way, I will miss this life, but especially, I will miss those I have come to love. 

Yudathade was here for the Easter weekend.  He was “hodiing” at the door early Friday morning with a big smile on his face.  He must have left school at dawn, excited at the thought of going home.  I may not think my house here is much compared to what I lived in in America, but for him it is a mansion.  For the first time in his life he is living in a house with indoor plumbing, electricity, and cement floors.  He does not have to worry about people breaking in at night to harm him or his sister.  He has someone to come home to, someone who cares.  After exchanging greetings, he proudly showed me his mid-term exams.  His grades have improved significantly in most subjects, especially physics.  Now it is his favorite class.  I hugged him and told him how proud I am of him.  In the short time that I have known Yuda, I have always sensed that this is what he was longing for.  Love was what was missing from his life.  Is this why God sent me?  To remind him of a mother’s love.

Fidesta is now in Morogoro, studying at Bigwa Sisters, an all-girls Catholic high school.  I like the place.  I like the head sister.  I think Fidesta will be safe there, although like everything in Tanzania, there were challenges to overcome in getting her there.  She applied to study PCB (physics, chemistry, and biology combination) and despite her mediocre form 4 results, Sister gave her permission to come.  Fidesta’s generous sponsors in the US paid her school fees, and then she and I went to Moshi to shop for all the other things she would need.  I bought her books for each subject, a rarity for most Tanzanian students.  On the way home Fidesta told me that she felt like President Kikwete’s child, more than rich, because she had everything she needed.  She had never known a student who had as many books as she had.  She promised she would study very hard.

Finally the big day arrived.  I had been at a Peace Corps meeting earlier that week, so I met Aggie and Fidesta in Moshi.  We stayed at a relative’s house for the night, and then escorted Fidesta to the bus in the morning.  As we stood together on the sidewalk waiting for the bus to arrive, I put my arm around Fidesta and told her that I loved her very much.  I was surprised when she turned and walked away. Then I saw her standing alone behind a tree sobbing.  Fidesta had already lost one mother; she did not want to lose another.   Again, I was a bit startled to realize how much I really meant to her.  Love is a powerful thing.  I reassured her that I would always love her no matter where I happened to be and that “if God wishes” (a common Tanzanian expression) I would return to see her one day.  “Really Madam?  Oh please come for my graduation.”  I promised I would try.

The bus arrived and the conductor struggled to lift her trunk into the boot.  He asked if she was taking rocks.  She laughed and said, “No, just books.”  Then she boarded and the bus pulled away.  Fidesta was gone.  Now I struggled to control my own tears.

I was expecting Fidesta to call when she arrived at school; however, I was not prepared for what she had to say.  There were not enough students to offer both PCB and CBG (chemistry, biology, and geography) so Sister had chosen CBG.  Fidesta wanted me to make the decision as to what she should do.  I told her I was here to give her opportunity not to direct her life.  She must decide.  She told me that she wanted to study PCB and maybe she could shift to Longido, the government school to which she had been selected.  Silently I was saying, “Oh please, not a government school” while at the same time I was saying out loud, “Ok Fidesta, if that is what you wish.”  I spoke with Sister and made arrangements for Fidesta to return home so that she could enroll at Longido as soon as possible.  I was disappointed but willing to accept the switch if that is what Fidesta truly wanted.  Therefore I was surprised when Fidesta called me again later that night.  Apparently Sister had counseled her and convinced her that it would be better for her to remain at Bigwa and study CBG where she knew she would have teachers and resources, rather than risk studying PCB at a government school where there would most likely not be enough teachers and very few resources.  Physics is difficult enough, without having to learn it on your own.  All these things are very true.  Thank you God for Sister!  (I talked to Fidesta on Easter Sunday and she is very happy that she remained at Bigwa).

Agness continues to study diligently for her qualifying exam in the fall.  If she passes, she will be allowed to study for her form 4 exams.  Receiving an O-level certificate is what she wants most right now.  Agness has made many mistakes in life, and she worries that I will not love her if I know the truth.  However, she does not know that I already know much about her past, and it does not matter.  I have seen her heart and it is good.  I have always felt like I was supposed to do something for Aggie, but I never was sure what it was or why it should be done. Once again, I think that the answer is simply love and opportunity. She made me a Valentine’s Day card this year, and in it she wrote, “I never really knew love until you showed me.  Thank you Madam.  I love you very much.”   Maybe this opportunity has been God’s invitation to Aggie, “Come and live a better life.”  May God continue to help her see the way.

My own life has not been uneventful.  There was another moment recently where I almost called it quits.  I have been working very hard lately, and maybe like Fidesta says, I have not been eating enough ugali (stiff porridge).  I have not been feeling so strong, so I called the Peace Corps doctor.  He told me to come to the office for some tests.  I agreed to come after Easter.  So the Wednesday before Easter, I made a quick trip to Moshi to get money to buy a bus ticket to travel to Dar. When I boarded the bus to return home to Mkuu, there was a seat behind the driver that seemed to be free.  I asked a lady nearby if it was available and she said “yes, it is free.” So I sat down to wait for the bus to depart.  However, soon another woman came on the bus yelling that I had taken her seat.  She seemed a bit crazy, so I said “hamna shida,” and I moved to the other side of the aisle.  She put her stuff down and got off the bus.  A short time later, she boarded the bus again, yelling and screaming and hitting a young man with her purse.  She shouted “Mwizi! Mwizi!”  (Thief! Thief!).  All of a sudden, a crowd of men jumped on the bus and began beating the young man.  The bus was rocking back and forth.  Luckily, I was in the front and somewhat sheltered from the crowd.  But I watched as they tore off his shirt and dragged him off the bus by his leg.  They dumped him on the ground right below my window, and I watched in horror and disbelief as they kicked him and stamped on him.  He was about the same age as my A-level students, but his clothes said that he was very poor.  I did not know if he had tried to steal from this woman, but I knew this was not right.  These people were going to kill this boy.  I did not know what to do, my hands were shaking and tears fell spontaneously from my eyes.  I felt powerless to control the frenzy but I said “Acha! Huruma! Huruma!” (Stop! Mercy! Mercy!), then I prayed.  Soon some big men came running up and placed themselves between the boy and the crowd.  When they had calmed the crowd enough, they picked up the victim and carried him away.  The young woman next to me said softly, “Mzungu, mzungu, don’t cry.”  How ironic that her concern was for me.  Finally the bus departed and I was left to my thoughts.  On the way home I was thinking how uncivilized this country is, but I knew that that was not really true.  These were not the actions only of Tanzanians.  These were the actions of mankind.  Mob justice, out of control fervor for a cause, it has occurred over and over throughout the history of man.  What I had witnessed must have been very much like what occurred during the crucifixion of Christ.  I had always wondered how good people could behave so cruelly and without regard for human life.  Now I know.  I have seen.

I do have some happy news to report.  I have been doing a series of teacher workshops at my school and the theme is “Change Begins with You.”  We have talked about how teachers are leaders and about the power they have to really make a difference in a student’s life.  Already I have seen some positive results.  I have seen more teachers actually entering their classes, and when they do, they seem to be teaching with more energy.  Recently, a student came to her teacher to tell her about some difficulties she was having at home.  Her family was very poor and she had no money to buy exercise books and pens.  She was thinking of leaving school.  Instead of telling her to get out or hitting her with a stick, the teacher counseled her and told her to fight for her own life, no matter what was happening at home.  Then she took her to the school shop and bought her the things that she needed.  The second master also told me that one young teacher, maybe not always so hard-working and respectable in the past, had volunteered to help teach A-level General Studies for no extra pay. Extra work for no pay; that is indeed a miracle!

 

Opportunity, love, respect, encouragement: that has been my mission here.  I know it will not change the world, but maybe it will change life for a few.