United in Suffering and Honour

May began on a sad note for the Gonzaga community. In my last entry, I wrote about the explosions that were set off accidentally at a local miliary base. One of our boys in standard one lost his father, a member of the military, in the blast. The following week, a boy in standard two's father passed away due to a heart condition. In both cases, the school sent a delegation of students from each of the boys' classes along with my standard sixes and a group of teachers to visit the boys' families in mourning.

I accompanied both groups and was each time deeply moved by the compassion showed by the students at such a young age. We were not alone as we joined the families to mourn their losses. At each house, women from the neighbourhood and the family gathered inside the home, while the men stayed outside beneath a tarp hung from the house's roof. The students, as we gathered, would lead a small prayer ceremony with the family. The students showed such maturity around death at such an early age, a result that comes from being exposed to it with such frequency. As I sat uncomfortable, my students took their place around the grieving mothers, greeting them and expressing their condolences. The mothers would, as is customary I learnt, serve us some food, either a late lunch or some juice, depending on the time of the visit. I would reluctantly take my plate, following my students' cue, and found myself once again pondering how I had come to be served when we had visited to offer our support to the family.

Tanzanian generosity continues to leave me in awe and teaches me how to love my brothers and sisters. When Isaya's family, whose front door opens onto a road across which lies a municipal dump, is able to find the strength to serve lunch to a group of 30 students and teachers, most of whom are strangers, united only in mourning the loss of their father, I am left with my heart broken open and with having bore witness to the realization of the Kingdom.

Fr. Gary Smith, S.J. recently reflected on the question: Where is God amidst all this suffering? He writes, "If there is suffering then all of us suffer. And if a suffering brother or sister is honoured with our skills, then we are all honoured. They learn through our hands, hearts, and heads of God's heart and that the world has not forgotten them." As I reflect on these experiences, Fr. Smith's words resonate within me as I rediscover the importance in accompanying those with whom I live and work in all of their life's struggles, for as they do, I do, and so our joys and troubles are forever united in our effort to build toward God.

No News? No News.

"Hujambo?" a neighbour asks as I return from work. I reply, "Sijambo." Translation: No news? No news. Indeed, such was April. Not much to report on this end. We went to Tanga for a retreat at the beginning of the month where we met up with the two volunteers from Moshi. They then came down to celebrate the Easter holiday with us in Dar where we got our fix of fishbowl and other fun-for-the-whole-family games. At midnight on the 26th we witnessed for the first time any type of outward celebration for a national holiday as we believe we heard fireworks exploding somewhere in the distance to celebrate Union Day - the day when Tanganyika and Zanzibar became one. A quiet month.

Some of you may have heard via NPR or the CBC of some explosions that went off the other day in Dar. A poorly disposed bomb at a local military armoury detonated and set off a chain reaction of several other bombs. While many people were injured and a few people died in the blasts, out here in Mabibo we were safe, as we are about 20 km from the military complex. Please keep those affected by the explosions in your thoughts and prayers.

We continue on well here. We are in the midst of the big rains, which has brought smiles to the faces of farmers and herders and those friendly folks who work down at TANESCO, the national power company, who have gotten in the habit of cutting our power.

Stay well, my friends.

A Family Reunion in Dar

Just finished up a wonderful two weeks with the Family Ford. School had a midterm recess and so during our week off we travelled north to Arusha where we went on safari to see the wildebeests and other wild beasts of this fine land. Despite the draught the country is experiencing due to the late arrival of the BIG rains, the wildlife was magnificient.

After four days in the north we headed back south into the heat of Dar es Salaam. In Dar, I was able to share with my family both the work I have been doing over the last year and my life outside of school - my friends, the neighbours, the boys who run the dukas. Watching my family interact and meet these wonderful people who have so warmly welcomed me into their lives and who extended the welcome to my mother and brothers and sisters provided a gentle reminder of what a grace this experience has offered. I was overwhelmed by the generosity we witnessed, whether from my sixth grade boys who performed a wonderful skit poking fun at my classroom demeanour, or the sixth grade girls who together gifted my mother a khanga, or our friends, the Mtengas, who kindly opened up their little home to share an afternoon meal with us.

In meeting my friends and their families we had everything from family sit-down meals to singing and dancing at Gonzaga to late-night chips followed by a photo bonanza with our host, a mama who late arriving after coming from a town hall "meeting" at a local watering hole. And through it all, as my family bravely trooped through sunrise wake-up calls and squeezed into dala dalas, always with room for one more, each gathering in its uniqueness helped shed light on the time between family reunions.

Sometimes, I was able to appreciate areas in which I have grown as I shared eating lessons with Anthony or washing lessons with Gina or language lessons with Lucie. Other times, and perhaps more importantly, the light exposed areas where I still have much room to expand my horizons and ask question and explore the roots of my Canadian tendencies as when I found myself waiting impatiently for food with Michael, wondering how the operation might run more efficiently or when pondering some of the social injustices with my mother.

After having said goodbye this past Saturday and through a brief reflection of the last 13 days spent in close company, I look back and feel genuinely blessed and rejuvenated by their visit and the time shared together and look forward to having this as a backdrop for further conversations upon returning northward.

A Leaf on a Stream

Writing about the second month of school during the second year here in Tanzania is far less captivating than it was last year. As I have sat here today setting the school’s midterm examinations, I have been mulling over what I could write about. The month did pass quickly, but I think if I was to look back through past entries I would find that I begin more than half of those with a sentence along the same lines. Yes, it is indeed true; time continues to pass ever more quickly and will undoubtedly continue to do so until I leave. This is to be my last reference to the fleeting nature of Time.

As eminent as February’s fugitiveness was its lack of extraordinary events. And so the news of February is perhaps its lack of news and what that implies. Surely if I were to look through the lens with which I viewed last year I could find something to report, but our lens is ever-changing. Fr. Don, our in-country coordinator when we first arrived, always reminded us when we found ourselves frustrated with circumstances or in awe at the differences between home and here that we are leaves on a stream. This was difficult to appreciate at the beginning, but as the year progressed it came to make more sense. What then became difficult was not maintaining a lifestyle of the leaf (it can be easy floating downstream), but rather continually being aware that as a Canadian living in Tanzania I am to be practicing leave-no-trace volunteering while watching what I consider to be injustices sprout around me; that is to say, actively participating in everyday activities while trying to ensure that my presence will not be felt when I depart.

Enter the second year JV. I think that one can grow tired of the constant realization of being a Canadian leaf on a Tanzanian rainbow-tinted stream, especially with the restraints that it can place on one’s actions. And so, to some extent, I feel that as I have commenced this second year at Gonzaga I have grown weary of the realization and have allowed myself to grow too comfortable with the surroundings. I haven’t stopped asking why?; instead I have stopped seeing situations about which to ask why? The rainbow river has tie-dyed my leaf. I have been travelling along here for such a length that new scenes no longer appear strange and I do not feel as out of place. This comes with advantages and disadvantages. I am growing in my enculturation with the people and this country, but at the same time I have stopped noticing the more subtle differences between the two cultures; differences that may stem from injustices here or that may promote equity here where it is absent at home.

Along with being a leaf on the stream, Don also warned that when we grow too comfortable we stop learning. I suppose it is time to slip some peas under the metaphorical mattress to rouse the sleep that is life in a different land.

Gonzaga Turns 1 or We Enter Our Second Year!

We marked the completion of our first year at Gonzaga this past Monday, January 26. With one year of growing pains under our belt, we have opened for the second time on much smoother waters. Three weeks deep into the new school year and we are now fully staffed, although I say this with fingers crossed as our final hire's first day is to be Monday. But I feel confident. Nevertheless, we are still ahead of last year's schedule when our last hire did not begin teaching until the middle of February.

In my second year here I am teaching a majority of the same students, having moved up from Standard (read grade) Five to Standard Six with my students from last year. The school currently has 236 students in eight classes spread out through six grades (kindergarten and Standards 1, 2, 3, 4, and 6). To the fifteen students I teach, I am their homeroom teacher along with teaching them mathematics, English, Catholic religion (to the Catholics) and phys. ed. I am no longer teaching the students of last year's Standard Three. When I am not teaching I have continued working in the school's administration in my role as the school's dean of studies - a position I will hold in full for only a shortwhile longer before beginning a period of transition with a Tanzanian who will fill the office permanently.

The new year has been busy with school's opening, but also with welcoming a couple of visitors from the Great White. Prior to the first day of classes, my two eldest sisters visited. We rung in the New Year together before spending two weeks catching up on the news from home and my life here in Dar. It was wonderful to see these two familiar faces from home and I feel refreshed and energized after their visit and our adventures. Plus, it was an added bonus that I got to taste a little bit of Mom's cooking. Jessie and Christina bravely transported in their carry-on a homecooked meal including a frozen pasta casserole along with frozen meatballs and moulignan. A real treat to get a homecooked Italian dinner an ocean and a continent away from home!

Since their departure, it has been school and everything that goes with those opening weeks and so there is little else to report at this time. I hope all is well with you in the New Year and that it has greeted you with many warm tidings. Stay warm.

A Lesson in Community

It has been a busy month. A friend working in Uganda visited at the beginning of the month, four new Jesuit volunteers arrived on the 5th, and then on the 17th we said goodbye to our communitymate of the last year, Kate. After Kate's departure, Caroline, I, and the four fresh arrivals escaped the heat of Dar and travelled north to the town of Lushoto for retreat. Lushoto is a town built into the Usambara mountain range. At 1,200 metres above sea level it was significantly cooler than Dar es Salaam, which at this time of year is hot and muggy. We were able to hike in Lushoto to a couple different vantage points outlooking a Maasai steppe.


We continued north to Moshi after spending four days in Lushoto. The bus ride north was uneventful, although for the second time in my Tanzanian experience a window from the bus managed to unseat itself and fall onto my arm. When we arrived in Moshi we introduced two of the volunteers, Talia and Mary Beth, to their home for the next two years. JVI, our organization, decided last year to introduce another community in Tanzania and so these two pioneers will be rooting a community in Moshi while working at Maria Goretti Secondary School run by the Sisters of Our Lady of Kilimanjaro. We spent the next few days up in Moshi being taken out by our Jesuit hosts to two villages to see Mt. Kilimanjaro up close. Alas, on the 27th we, Caroline, Emily, Christen, and I, made the trek back to Dar to settle into our new four person community. In the year to come Emily will begin teaching with me at Gonzaga as it enters its second year. Christen will work beside Caroline at Loyola High School, taking the place of Kate.


At the beginning of the month our neighbour's house caught fire. I was once again given the opportunity to learn a lesson in community living. As smoke billowed out from this house, the neighbourhood gathered around, although not in a style to which I was familiar. In my own setting, a similar situation would have also produced a crowd, but the crowd, for the large part, would have been watching the fire department put out the blaze as they pondered the fire's cause. Here, however, the crowd was involved; carrying buckets of water from their own homes, older men rushing in to salvage furniture and the fridge and clothes (forget about the old rule, "once you're out, stay out"), young men on top of the, dare I say, hot tin roof pouring in the many buckets of water, women organizing all of the exiting furniture and incoming buckets. A tremendous ordeal, though amidst the devastation it was oddly wonderful to watch the community spirit come alive so quickly, both from friends and strangers alike. I recognize that at home, if a similar situation were to arise, our response would hopefully be similar; however, for better or for worse, we don't often get to witness such camaraderie. I suppose it simply acts as a reminder to care for our brothers and sisters.


All for now. I wish you all a happy new year, that it may be filled with good things.

An Election and an End to Year One

Tanzania is fully swept up in Obama's victory. Driving into town last week I was driving behind a dala dala simply named, "Barack Obama." Sitting in church this morning, I was sitting behind a woman wearing a "Hongera (Congratulations) Barack Obama!" khanga, a piece of traditional cloth worn as a skirt or as a head dress, with a giant silk-screened image of Mr. Obama's face beside the African continent. In Mabibo you may choose to get your hair cut at the new Obama Salon. The president-elect has indeed inspired many new business names here in Dar es Salaam, but what has been more amazing to witness is the way this man has inspired an entire country and a continent.

School finished on Friday and close officially marked the end of my first year as a Jesuit Volunteer. Students celebrated the last day of class with their favourite dish, pilau, and song and dance performances they performed for each other. The students have taken great steps forward this year, not only in their studies but also in their understanding of what it means to attend a Jesuit school. Watching their idea of what it means to be, "boys and girls for others," shift from helping their friend on a test (cheating) to helping their friend study for the test (helping) is something Gonzaga can be proud of. This commitment to service and the high standard in academics the students achieved in the school's first year have led to the school's warm reception by the local community and in a few years our students will begin making great contributions to our sister school, Loyola High School.

While Obama has enlivened the African spirit with hope today, it will be these students, with their hearts aflame, who will truly achieve that promised change tomorrow.