Lead me on, let me stand I'm tired, I’m weak, I’m worn Through the storm, through the night Lead me on to the light Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home
When my way grows drear precious Lord linger near When my life is almost gone Hear my cry, hear my call Hold my hand lest I fall Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home
When the darkness appears and the night draws near And the day is past and gone At the river I stand Guide my feet, hold my hand Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home
Precious Lord, take my hand Lead me on, let me stand I'm tired, I’m weak, Lord I’m worn Through the storm, through the night Lead me on to the light Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home
I'm writing this at 3:10 a.m. at my sister Sheila's house in Toledo, Ohio. I arrived here yesterday afternoon after a 42-hour trip from Dodoma. I'm here to be with my family on the occasion of our mother's death. She was an extraordinary woman. Here is the obituary notice we composed; to be published in the local newspaper, The Toledo Blade: Here's the text:
CONNELL Marcella Marie Marcella Mauter Connell, a lifelong resident of Toledo, died December 11, 2009, at Sunset House, where she had lived for the past three years. She was preceded in death by her two best friends in life, Jerry, her beloved husband, and Rita Horne, her dear sister. She was also preceded in death by siblings, Katherine High, Patricia Cervenec, John, Paul and Francis Mauter, and sons-in-law, Merle DelTorto and Tom Arman.
Marcella was a proud alumna of St. Thomas Aquinas grade school and St. Ursula Academy. Before her marriage to Jerry, she worked as a key-punch operator at the Ordinance Depot in Rossford. Upon his death in 1969, she returned to work, first in the china department at Hudson's and later at ABC Mailing and Roger's National Research. She retired from Maritz Marketing Research in 1986.
Anderson Parkway was her home for over 40 years; there she singlehandedly raised her family after being widowed at a young age. Family and friends hold many fond memories of times at the Connell home. They appreciated her baking skills - she made "pies to die for and breakfast rolls to rise for." Second to her baking prowess were her skills at the card table. For most of her adult life, she played bridge at least once a week. Until 2005, the bridge club she joined in the 1950s met once a month. She also played in several other bridge groups including St. John's Mothers' Club, St. Ursula, Blessed Sacrament, and St. Pius X.
Marcella also kept busy at her Singer sewing machine. Her children were proud to wear a "Marcella Original." She sewed Easter dresses with matching coats;100's of St. Ursula uniforms; wedding, bridesmaid, and prom dresses. Marcella was generous with her time and was willing to help wherever and whenever needed. While she was still driving, she was quick to offer transportation to those needing a ride; she sang regularly at parish funerals and cheerfully supported charities associated with the Catholic Church.
She will be missed by those who survive her, most especially her eleven children, Sheila Johnson (Dennis), Marcia DelTorto, Kathleen Connell Gallagher (Steve), Maureen Connell O'Brien (Steve), Colleen Dunne (Timothy), Dennis, Molly Connell Stebli, Julie Connell (Tom Rood), Michelle Jankowiak (Jerry), Toni Arman and Rev. Dr. Martin Connell SJ. Also surviving are her sister and brother, Ann Daudelin and Joseph Mauter; grandchildren, Megan, Betsy, Bill, Kathleen and Susan; Jovanina, Maureen, Ben and Kelly; Justine; Casey and Catherine; Caitlin and Peter; Natalie and Mike; Brad, Dan and Anneka; Claire and Paul; and many nieces, nephews and friends.
The Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated 11 a.m. Tuesday at Blessed Sacrament Church. The family will receive friends from 2-8 p.m. Monday at the Ansberg-West Funeral Home, 3000 Sylvania Avenue. Memorials may be directed to the Blessed Sacrament School Building Fund, Sunset Retirement Communities, Detroit Province of the Society of Jesus (for Our Lady Queen of Peace Educational Centre, Dodoma, Tanzania), 7303 W. 7 Mile Rd., Detroit, MI 48221 or a charity of the donor's choice. Online condolences may be left at:www.ansberg-west.com
The polite answer to the question "What's new?" is nzuri --good, fine, nice. If that really, really isn't the case you respond nzuri kidogo, a little good.
That was my response this evening when Sr. Euphrasia arrived for dinner with us and asked about the news of the evening: nzuri kidogo. Nzuri kidogo because this afternoon I received a phone call that my mother's decline has been precipitous.
So pray for all of us who are travelling, trying to be with our mother, Marcella Marie Mauter Connell,at her end. Please pray for her comfort at she comes to the end.
The Jesuit Community was invited to help celebrate the recent achievement of Regina, a parishioner. She received her certification to be a catechist -- and is now, in fact, serving as such in the parish. She's a member of one of the parish base communities, and they hosted the party along with her family. It was both moving and fun.
The picture below is of Regina wrapped in a kitenge (a common gift, presented as part of a procession). I wish I'd taken more pictures (this was taken with my iphone) -- but glad the pictures of me trying to dance have been destroyed. (Mimi ni mzungo: Siwezi kucheza! -- I'm a white guy; I can't dance!)
Happy 9th of December! That might not have the same ring as "Happy Independence Day" does for citizens of the US, but it has the same significance. It was on this date in 1961 that Tanganyika gained its independence.
Somo kutoka Isaya linaonyesha furaha ya ajabu. Katikati ya jangwa, mahali ambapo vitu haviwezi kuwa na maisha ni magumu, Mungu huja na baraka; halafu jangwa linabadilika.
Kila mtu anaendapo jangwani anajisikia kiu. Jua kali hukausha ardhi ya jangwa.
Kama ardhi ya jangwa, mioyo yetu hupasuka kwenye joto la maisha. Roho zetu ni kavu. Jangwa la maisha ni wasiwasi, hali ya isiyo ya usalama, na woga wa vitu vingi.
Lakini tazameni mahali hapa, sehemu ya Dodoma. Tazameni maua ya miti sasa. Mvua inanyesha katika jangwa.
Sisi tunasalimana: “Kristo: Tumaini letu.” Tumaini letu ni Kristo. Tumaini letu ni mtu ambaye aliwaambia watu msalabani, “Naona kiu.” Halafu kiu cha Yesu Kristu kilikatwa na ufufuo.
Tumaini letu si kitu kidogo. Hata wakati ya Majilio msalaba upo. Lakini ufufuo upo pia! Neema za Mungu zipo! Kuna neema za Mungu tele duniani. Neema za Mungu zinanyesha, na kuna tumaini jangwani kwa maisha yetu mapya.
Bila shaka:
Nyika na mahali palipo ukiwa patafurahi,
jangwa litashangilia na kuchanua maua kama waridi;
If you wish to make a donation at this time of the year, you can do so by going to the "You Can Help" section on the upper right of the screen. Thanks so much, and God bless.
My patron saint is Martin of Tours, whose feast is celebrated 11 November. Martin of Tours is remembered for at least two events in his life: His setting aside his sword in order to serve God and his dividing his coat, sharing it with a beggar. Looking at how many clothes I brought with me here, I can't believe I have as my patron one who had so little concern for such things. I'm not a fashion-plate by any means, but what I lack in taste I've made up for in quantity. And my inordinate attachment to these things is showing as I try to decide which half (okay not half, maybe quarter) I should share with the poor.
That's the morning greeting. Literally: How did you wake up? And the polite response is "salama" --peacefully, even if you didn't. I didn't. Our neighbors have watchdogs that yip and bark the whole night and last night there was a nightclub going full blast. I finally managed to get to sleep soundly sometime around 3:00 a.m., only to be awakened by the muezzin at 5:00 a.m. It took me weeks to get used to the trucks braking in Morogoro; I trust I'll become as desensitized to these new sounds -- in the meantime I'm thankful for the white-noise application on my iphone.
I concelebrated the 7:30 a.m. Mass this morning. The church is built for about 1,400 people and there were hundreds of people standing along the sides and outside. The choir was amazing as usual. Before the final blessing I said a few words: Nimejifunza Kiswahili Morogoro. Ni vigumu sana kujifunza Kiswahili; kuna maneno mengi! Siwezi kusema wala kusoma kiswahili vizuri, lakini nataka kusema kama waswahili; kwa hiyo nitajaribu kujifunza kwa bidii. Translation: I studied Kiswahili in Morogoro. It's hard to learn: There are so many words! I don't speak or read Kiswahili well, but I want to speak like Swahili speakers. Therefore, I'm going to try very hard.
The applause I received was amazing.
I did pray part of the Eucharistic Prayer and was told afterward that it was perfectly read in unaccented Kiswahili. People are kind.
A funny story about why I need to learn it: In the sacristy before Mass, the catechist pointed to a bucket filled to the brim with water. Well, I know how important the tradition of washing hands is here, so I washed mine. What he was asking me do, however, was bless the water.
Today will be spent getting settled, writing my homily for tomorrow's Mass, and visiting with my friend Ibariki (from the verb kuibariki, to bless --as in "God bless Tanzania," the national anthem. Incidentally, the national anthem is a prayer -- a prayer that all citizens of this country, whatever their religion, can pray together. Rather nice, that.). Ibariki is a student at the University of Dodoma who is from Morogoro. I'll get a little pumzika (rest) in, too.
Here are some photos of the major buildings in phase one. Above is the almost completed residence for patrons/matrons (dorm parents/supervisors). Below you'll see the boys dormitory (two more floors will be added to the structures in subsequent phases), followed by a picture of the dormitories and multi-purpose building from the vantage point of the second level of the classroom building (overlooking the rebar getting ready for the slab to be poured for the laboratory wing). The final picture is from the second floor of the multipurpose building, looking out over the dining hall toward the stage.
I arrived here at 9 a.m. this morning, and I'm very happy to be here.
Last evening Malasi, the Jesuit scholastic who is part of the OLQP project, arrived from Dodoma to fetch me and my things. We left the language school and headed to the Salvatorian Institute, where we had rooms for the evening. After looking up Bart Murphy and getting settled, we headed out for a farewell dinner of beer and chicken with some friends.
As we returned from a long, very enjoyable evening, there were sprinkles on the windshield. I suggested that we switch out cars, locking ours in the safety of Bart's garage and parking his outside -- not only for security but also to keep my things dry. Well, I was thankful for that when about 45 minutes later the clouds opened. I've never in my life witnessed such rain -- no associated with a storm, just buckets of pouring rain, coming straight down. It rained like that for about an hour. I thought how nice it would be to sleep following the rain, for surely it would cool down. It didn't. I barely slept two hours before the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. As soon as I woke up it began to rain again, though not as hard. This doesn't seem an important detail to narrate except for this fact: we had no canvas. We had to be in Dodoma for a 9:00 a.m. site meeting at OLQP, so there was no other option than to just face the fact that some things were going to get soaked. I did say to Malasi that my experience told me that as soon as we got away from the mountains we'd be fine. And in fact that was the case. I enjoy his companionship and we had a good drive. I've been on that road now five times; driving it after the rains made it a new experience, so green -- even the dusty Dodoma region
The site meeting went well. The buildings are going to be very nice, I must say. I must also say that I am very happy that we did not set a 2010 opening -- there is no way we could be starting school and boarding for 140 form one students in six weeks. It's very nice to be home, very nice indeed. Speaking mostly English today, but Sr. Euphrasia, the head teacher of the primary school, insisted on speaking some Kiswahili, which I appreciated. She informed me that I would be celebrating Mass at the convent on Monday in Kiswahili -- and preaching. Yikes: Ninahitaji msaada wa Mungu! I need God's help!
Yesterday morning my sisters and brother in Toledo met with the nursing staff at the facility where my mother has lived the last few years (and where, despite its unfortunate name -- Sunset House -- my mother has received great care).
My mother, now 86, had surgery for colorectal cancer six years ago, and during the last few years she's also had pretty serious dementia. Lately she's lost her appetite and has been fidgety. Noticing these as symptoms of discomfort/pain, x-rays were ordered. A six centimeter mass is visible on her lung.
My sisters and brother will meet with the hospice folks on Monday.
Say a prayer for Marcella, please, and for us, too, as we embark on another chapter in our life with her.
Happy Thanksgiving! (Or, Sikukuu Njema ya Mavuno! -- that's my guess anyway; Kiswahili speakers, what do you think?)
Last night, I was reflecting on what I’ve learned over the course of three months in language school. Not enough was the initial answer! I found myself reflecting on what I’ve learned beyond grammar and vocabulary.
One of the gifts of being here has been to gain some small sense (very small, admittedly) – some small sense of what by black and Latino friends often experience in the United States. That is to say, one of the things I have realized is the privilege of having my behavior in the US treated, for the most part, as unremarkable.
Here, I miss is the ability to walk down a street and go unnoticed. I spend a lot of time trying to pretend, knowing full well that all eyes are on my every move. I miss flying under the radar, being able to duck in to a shop and buy a bottle of water without it being a big deal – or any sort of deal at all. It’d be nice not to be a novelty: to be able to take a daladala like other folks, without people raising eyebrows or commenting on how surprising it is that I am riding on the daladala.
So there’s a certain irony here: Even as I attempt to live in some sort of solidarity with the people here, I am being given resources to live in solidarity with brothers and sisters in the United States.
On Sunday Bart Murphy, SJ, brought me to meet an extraordinary man, Brother Rikardo Maria.
Rikardo, an Italian who has lived in Tanzania for many years and speaks such good Swahili that he was asked by the bishop to head the diocesan radio apostolate, has founded Franciscan communities for both men and women. They might be called Franciscans of the Strict Observance, for their poverty is very close to the poverty of poor Tanzanians. For instance, the men's residence had dirt floors and no screens on the windows.
Rikardo has started two secondary schools, one free and the other very inexpensive. Over 2000 students attend these two (mostly) day schools (there is a hostel, however, for girls at one of the schools). Many of the students are older -- some as old as 40. An amazing project spearheaded by an amazing man and his companions.
My friend Henry and his friends met one another at the Salvatorian Institute here. After graduating, they started an NGO that puts in shallow wells in villages near Morogoro. Impressive work.
You can see how deep that well is -- and it's unprotected, so anything can fall into it, including animals and children. And what follows is what they end up with, a ring well with a durable hand pump:
One thing I love about the above video is how the slightly older boy has learned about levers -- look at how easily he pumps compared to the younger child before him.
My hope of course is that in ten years I'll be posting similar videos about similar work of graduates of OLQP.
My friend Margaret Visser's book The Gift of Thanks is featured in today's New York Times. The book was published last year in Canada, and I had a chance to read it when I visited Vancouver earlier this year. It is another remarkable book by her. If you haven't read Sacred Geometry or her other books, do!
I had a chance to visit Margaret and Colin in Paris this summer on my way home from my visit to Tanzania in early June -- a delightful time with them for which I am thankful.
So go out and get the book and read it in time for Thanksgiving!
(originally written on 3 November -- Internet problems abound!)
My sister mentioned to me that for her a lot of my postings have been rather a big yawn. I appreciate her frankness, and can understand why. I haven’t written much really concrete “stuff,” and much of what I’ve posted has been the fruit of my trying to figure some things out for myself.
My anonymous-Winchester, Massachusetts-residing sister suggested that I get more concrete about my experience of language school. I’ll do that here and will post some pictures later.
As you approach Morogoro from Dodoma you see the Uruguru mountains before you. Before actually heading into the town center you go left at a kipilefti (a roundabout – they used to have signs in English “keep left) and head southeast on the road to Dar es Salaam. The sisal fields (what used to be a cash crop and might return to being such with the organic movement) are on your left. Also on the left, just about three kilometers from the campus of the language school is a soko la ng’ombe, a Maasai cattle market (where two cattle thieves had their heads roll down the dirt road a few years back). After passing the Old Morogoro Road on your right, you see the campus of the Lutheran Junior Seminary, on which campus the language school is located. (Many high schools that were founded in the seventies here have the name “seminary” attached. The reason for this, as I understand it, is that the government’s nationalization of private schools did not include seminaries.)
It is a campus that has seen better days, which is to say that there’s a lot of deferred maintenance. The first thing you notice is that the red of the brick is the same red-orange color of the soil – the buildings don’t stand out. The language school is a small part of the school and consists of six or seven blocks of housing, a common room, and a dining hall/kitchen. The rooms are comfortable. I’m in a single room and walk down a few doors for the bathroom; there are some rooms with en suite bathrooms and also larger spaces for couples and families.
My day begins at five o’clock in the morning. After praying for twenty or so minutes, I study for an hour and then take a shower (I can’t get into the wiser practice of a shower at day’s end – though a good foot bath is always in order after a day of walking in sandals through the red soil.) I celebrate Mass before heading to the dining hall for breakfast.
Every day for breakfast there is uji. Uji is a type of porridge made from ground finger millet (the verb used with porridge, incidentally, the verb is kunywa – you drink it, even if it’s in a bowl and you’re using a spoon); the uji here is served with homemade yogurt and granola. There’s also always white bread (called milk bread here). There’s often something else: French toast, scrambled eggs, hardboiled eggs, etc. People tend to sit at the table for about a half hour before heading back to their rooms to collect their things before heading over to sala ya asubuhi, morning devotions at 7:45 a.m.
I used my experience of morning devotions as an example some weeks back during a class on Tanzanian culture. The teacher asked me to describe Tanzanian attitudes toward time. I noted that morning devotions are scheduled to begin at 7:45 a.m. (which is a quarter to two as time is counted in Swahili, incidentally – 8:00 being two hours after sunrise), and that I’d learned that at 7:45 I should begin to think about heading over to the classroom for the prayer. The prayer, most often led by one of the young assistant teachers (though I have led it) usually consists of a hymn at the beginning and one at the end with a piece of scripture (read first in English and then in Swahili) in the middle. The hymns are a highlight for me – some beautiful singing (though I’m not a fan of the sentiment of most of the hymns that celebrate a sort of individualism in faith life).
From morning prayer we head to class. With the exception of the one cultural class mentioned above, all mine have actually been tutorials, with a different teacher each week. My teacher and I head to what can best be described as a thatch-roofed gazebo where we share the three or so minutes of greetings (Habari za asubuhi? –how are things with you this morning?-- Umeamkaje? – how did you wake up?, etc.). Then we get down to business.
The morning kipindi cha kwanza combines the introduction of vocabulary in a given context (places like home, dispensary, shop, game reserve, etc.; and activities like building a house, painting it, cooking, changing a tire, etc.) with some grammar rules. After slogging through reading about just what Rehema, Kazimoto, and Hans (characters in these various settings) are up to and covering the related grammar, we move to mazoezi, exercises.
Then its time for chai! And at chai we move from mazoezi to maandazi! Maandazi are fried doughballs – think jelly donuts without the jelly, and a bit heavier dough. Very good, but not so good for you. Other things served with the coffee and tea available at chai on various days are bananas (you can’t get them fresher than here!), roasted peanuts, keki (I bet you can guess what English word that comes from – but here it is actually a sweetened cornbread), and chips (either banana or potato).
Fortified, we return for another 1.5 hours of study, moving on to kipindi cha pili – the second section of the unit, which includes a dialogue followed by comprehension exercises. We break at noon for 2.5 hours, returning at 2:30 for more exercises. Until about two weeks ago, I was managing to get through about 1.25 units a day. With Unit 31, however, I hit a bit of a wall and have slowed down considerably. I do love grammar, and I do very well with the drills. However, once I get out of my seat it all seems to fall out of my head, and we often end up reviewing what was just covered earlier in the day. (Just to illustrate how bad this can be, let me share the following: On Saturday a lady stopped by the common room looking for one of the workers. I froze when she asked if he was around. I couldn’t manage even a hayupo, he isn’t here.)
Yesterday was an exception – I was for the most part in the groove, and managed to remember most all of the verbs we covered. I’m having difficulty memorizing verbs – and when I do manage to retain them it is mostly passively; i.e., I recognize them but can’t initiate their use.
The food here is good. It is a carb lovers paradise. Take last night for instance: homemade dinner roles served with rice, potatoes, a sort of tomato sauce, and beans. Ugali, the staple, is only served occasionally to us – twice in my months here, both in the past week; I think this is principally because a lot of wazungu find it difficult to eat. What is ugali? My mother and those of her generation would call it mush*, but it is stirred until very, very thick (thicker than mashed potatoes). I don’t quite understand the aversion of non-Tanzanians to this. It must be its consistency because it doesn’t have its own taste, really – it tastes like whatever sauce it is served with. It’s the perfect dish for a place where there isn’t always a lot to eat because it is very, very filling – so filling, in fact, that it is not customary to serve it at the evening meal.
Some days after lunch I take a siesta. Even when I don’t, I usually rest, spending the time reading (when wireless is working I download the New York Times on my iphone and read it – I haven’t read news or heard it or watched it in over a week now) or writing. The half hour before we return for the last session of the day, I review vocabulary in preparation for the afternoon exercises.
Chai follows the afternoon exercises (you can see why I’m not losing weight as quickly as I expected – if snacking is considered eating outside of mealtime I’m not doing it; I just have five meals every day here!). We eat at six o’clock, so I spend the 1.5 hours between chai and the evening meal reading, writing, praying, etc.
After the evening meal I spend 75 minutes reviewing and preparing for the next day’s lessons. Then, when the Internet is in service I’ll also spend time writing emails, stopping by Facebook, posting here, and checking out some news websites (still a news junky, so this Internet/wireless issue is a challenge for me.)
I’m in bed usually by ten, sometimes an hour earlier sometimes an hour later. With the exception of a few nights it has been comfortable sleeping – getting downright chilly about four o’clock in the morning. I do sleep under mosquito netting, and I also have a few small geckos that hang out around my window sills – they help to keep the mosquito and spider population down. There are two things that wake me in the evening: the trucks on the Dar es Salaam – Morogoro Road that is about 75 meters away (there’s a speed bump, so I hear the breaks) and the bush babies. I now know why they are called such – they have a cry that does sound a bit like a crying baby, mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah.
*There’s a funny story about my mother in this regard. I was so proud that I’d become an adequate cook, and even prouder that a certain dish I’d learned to make was a hit among a lot of people: a polenta casserole (make polenta using milk, butter, and parmesan rather than just water in order to make it a little richer; put it in the bottom of a 9 x 11 greased pan; add sweet Italian saugage and tomato sauce; top with mozzarella cheese; and bake at 350 degrees for 40 mins). She watched as I prepared the delicacy. As I stirred the polenta with a proud smile on my face, Marcella burst my bubble: “Dear, I know it has a fancy Italian name, but what you’re making is cornmeal mush.”
Seems our Internet problems might be taken care of, so expect some posts -- even some less "yawn, yawn" ones, as one straight shooting sister referred to some of the recent ones.
My study of Kiswahili has provided me with an “aha” moment.
Among the things I have used in my in my scholarship on teaching and learning has been the metaphor of wayfarer. The work of Tim Ingold, a British anthropologist, has been especially important in this regard.
The wayfarer has no final destination: “Wherever he is, and so long as life goes on, there is somewhere further he can go” (Ingold, 2007, p. 77). Ingold (2007) distinguishes the navigation associated with wayfaring from transport, an activity that is destination-oriented. As it relates most especially to transport, navigating concerns carrying people and goods across from one place to the next in such a way that they remain unaffected. With transport every destination is a terminus, a point of re-entry after having been temporarily “exiled” while in transit from the last port. For the wayfarer on the other hand, the journey is the end as well as the means: Wayfaring is a development along a way. It is not that wayfarers never use the efficient means of travel associated with transportation but that they never allow their perception of the environment to be decoupled from their traveling through it. The wayfarer, “watches, listens, and feels” while proceeding through everyday life, with his or her “entire being alert to the countless cues that, at every moment, prompt the slightest adjustments” in his or her position relative to the surroundings” (p. 78).
The difference between these two ways of proceeding through the world has to do in large part with the traveler’s bond with the moment-to-moment perception of the world as it unfolds. The wayfarer actively engages the emergent world that reveals itself along the path, monitoring it for what might be useful. Transport dismisses the skills of the wayfarer, relying instead on fixed points within a system of coordinates and the instrumental calculus of point-to-point navigation; in its concern for destination, transport pays little attention to the path as it relates to the unfolding world.
One of Ingold’s points is that the travel between destinations is judged as secondary, being on the way is really being on the way to somewhere and is itself a kind of being nowhere.
(If you’re wondering what wayfaring has to do with teaching and learning, you might enjoy reading this piece I wrote for Catholic principals and teachers.)
Let me explain how this relates to my current study of Kiswahili. Nouns concerning place can take on prepositional form. So, for instance, nyumba (house) becomes nyumbani (at the house, in the house, around the house, etc.), and mji (town) becomes mjini (in the city), etc. Now here is where it gets interesting for me: Guess what happens to the word for trip – the best-known Kiswahili word in English, I’m betting – safari? It becomes safarini. Travel is not a sort of time out between places; it is considered in and of itself a sort of place.
An aha, yes; but it has led to all sorts of new questions – a lot to think about when I need a break from studying yet another infix: the relative clause.
This is cool stuff. Consider the clause “the clothes that I will wear”: Nguo nitakazozivaa…
nguo = clothes
ni = I
taka = will
zo =relative
zi = object
vaa = verb stem: wear
So: “the clothes that I will wear” is accomplished with two words in Kiswahili (but one of those words has seven syllables! – no dipthongs in Kiswahili, so the “aa” at the end counts as two syllables).
And here’s another: Fimbo aliyoichukua kiongozi inafaa sana
fimbo = stick
a = subject prefix for animate 3rd person singular
li = past tense infix
yo = relative
i = object
chukua: verb stem: carry
kiongozi: leader, guide
i = subject prefix agreeing with “fimbo”
na = present tense infix
faa = verb stem: to be suitable
sana = adverb: very
Thus: The stick that the leader carried is very suitable. (Notice that the subject of the sentence – kiongozi – actually follows the verb in this sentence.)
Pretty amazing stuff. Of course, one can be both amazed and struggling to learn to actually use these constructions at the same time. (Oh, one = I!)
So now – at least in my head – I can return to where I began: If there’s no direct causal relationship between education and development, why start a school in a developing country to help its development?
Why? Because we’re not starting a school founded on the progressivist myth. Instead, we’re starting a school founded on a commitment to faith and justice. Let me explain – and I’ll return to N.T. Wright in a moment to help me to do so.
I mentioned above that the progressivist myth has a hard time dealing with the reality of sin. What if a school’s aim was not to churn out folks to be used as objects for progress but instead had as its aim the formation of virtuous people who are knowledgeable about the world they live in, capable of analyzing situations, and ready to address the needs of society as they encounter them? And, again echoing what I wrote in the earlier post, what if its other equally important goal was to form men and women to behold God’s grace?
I don’t think these two goals can be separated. We Jesuits talk a lot about the service of faith and the promotion of justice; usually – to be honest – we talk around them. (I’m mostly talking about myself in this regard, but only mostly because I know how much we struggled at Loyola Marymount University to clearly articulate the relationship between the two in ways that were meaningful.)
A passage from Wright has helped me clarify the relationship between them. Wright writes about idolatry and its social implications (again, I don’t have the exact page reference – shame on me for not taking better notes):
When human beings give their heartfelt allegiance to and worship that which is not God, they progressively cease to reflect the image of God. One of the primary laws of human life is that you become like what you worship; what’s more, you reflect what you worship not only to the object itself but also outward to the world around. Those who worship money increasingly define themselves in terms of it and increasingly treat other people as creditors, debtors, partners, or customers rather than as human beings. Those who worship sex define themselves in terms of it (their preferences, their practices, their past histories) and increasingly treat other people as actual or potential sex objects. Those who worship power define themselves in terms of it and treat other people as either collaborators, competitors, or pawns. These and many other forms of idolatry combine in a thousand ways, all of them damaging to the image-bearing quality of the people concerned and of those whose lives they touch.
Issues of morality and justice cannot be disentangled from issues of faith; or to put it slightly differently, a commitment to justice is a commitment against idolatry, a commitment to the worship of the one true God (or in still another way: orthopraxis and orthodoxy implicate one another – involve one another in a necessary way). (And unless Jesuit institutions are willing to speak of faith in terms other than the comfortable, therapeutic ones designed and defined for our use by late modern industrial society, any attempt to describe the relationship between faith and justice in any meaningful way will continue to elude them.)
It is no secret that corruption is a huge issue in here Africa. This rampant corruption has deleterious effects on development. President Obama spoke about it during his visit; the pope spoke about it during his visit; the African bishops spoke about it during the recent synod in Rome, and I read about it every day in the newspapers here. Corruption is the result of a sort of idolatry that combines the worship of power, riches, and glory with an attitude of invincibility. (I might add here that the colonizers were certainly not paragons of virtue in this regard! They held sway over the colonized oftentimes in the most ruthless ways, enriched themselves to the detriment of native populations, and “collected” territories as signs of national prestige.) The formation at OLQP of virtuous citizens concerned about the common good rather than their influence on people and processes, their own wealth, and their own fame will help a great deal in the development of this country and this continent, I am certain.
A final, related quotation from Wright in this regard (this time with a page citation!):
We have traditionally thought of knowing in terms of subject and object and have struggled to attain objectivity by detaching our subjectivity. It can’t be done, and one of the achievements of postmodernity is to demonstrate that. What we are called to, and what in the resurrection we are equipped for, is a knowing in which we are involved as subjects but as self-giving, not as self-seeking subjects: in other words, a knowing that is a form of love. (p. 239)
(As one kind elderly lady at Our Lady Gate of Heaven [“The Gate,” as it was called] in Detroit used to remind me when I went too long in my preaching, “Bring it home, Father.”)
So…
The Society of Jesus is not starting a school in Dodoma to hasten the way to development as popularly conceived. We are starting a school with a very particular purpose in mind, to form young men and women “to learn, to love, to serve” (the school’s motto) – for the improvement of their own condition, yes, but also for the welfare of others and the common good of all to the greater glory of God. This approach has been tried (though not so frequently since the modern era, really); and I think this way is true.
(29 September 2009. The Internet hasn’t worked in over twenty-four hours, so I don’t know when it will be that this will get posted.)
In my last post, I mentioned that folks shouldn’t fall into the progressivist fallacy that there is a necessary causal relationship between formal education and development. That is, it’s pretty clear that formal education does not necessarilycause economic development, contrary to popular believe. It doesn’t necessarily even contribute to it. It can contribute to it, but not necessarily so.
[Barbara Rogoff in her study of cognitive development, Apprenticeship in Thinking: Development in Social Context, writes the following about this issue:
It is easy for middle-class American and European researchers to focus on skills that are important in our own daily lives and in our community no only because as humans we all tend to be ethnocentric, but also because in many other nations, skills such as literacy (and the arbitrary skills associated with a particular form of literacy and schooling) are adopted as national priorities in the attempt to change the countries’ economic position. Researchers’ judgments of the importance of literate (or other technological) skills for intellectual development can be misled by the worldwide export of these tools to other nations…and by attempts to convert their inhabitants to a Euroamerican view of the natural world and literate ways of thinking and acting. We must be careful not to confuse the specific uses of the skills with the economic power of their users. The point is clearer when we consider the respect that is now given to socialization practices and cognitive processes of the Japanese, apparently because to their success in beating Americans at their own game (i.e., economic power and excellence in mathematical and technological skills). (pp. 106-107; emphasis added)]
But here’s the kicker: This is the very reason that this country needs the sort of education provided by the Society of Jesus. That seems a contradiction, I know, but bear with me: I hope it is less so at the end of this post.
We are enthralled by the myth of progress. The myth of progress simply states that the human project necessarily (there’s that word again!) can and will continue to march toward utopia, step-by-(more/better/improved)-step. A certain sort of functionalist and technical rationality serves this myth in our present era, and it informs what we now think is the purpose of schooling. In Surprised by Hope(which I read some months ago and which informs some of what follows), N.T. Wright notes the following about this myth (I’m sorry I don’t have the exact page reference in my notes):
The world is ours to discover, exploit, and enjoy. Instead of dependence on God’s grace, we will become what we have the potential to be by education and hard work. Instead of creation and new creation, science and technology will turn the raw material of this work into the stuff of utopia.
Here’s the problem with the myth, however: It can’t deal with the existence of evil in the world. It is powerless to deal with evil and the problems it wreaks in any meaningful way.
Education does not inevitably have to serve the myth. What if we structured education in ways other than those proposed by the progressivist myth, in ways that serve other purposes than the creation of cogs and levers for the gears of the capitalist vehicle making its way through time to some neo-liberal Utopia?
What if education were, instead, considered in terms of liberation? In this regard Mwalimu Nyerere got it right (again!):
The purpose of education is therefore liberation through the development of man as a member of society. The purpose is not the development of objects – whether they be pyramids, or irrigation ditches, railways or palaces. The development of things – what is usually called economic development – can be used in the development of man. It is so involved in Africa. But the purpose of education is not to turn out technicians who can be used as instruments in the expansion of the economy. It is to turn out men who have the technical knowledge and ability to expand the economy for the benefit of man in society.
The care for/of the individual student as a human person, as an end in herself or himself, is the starting point. We refer to this as cura personalis in Jesuit-speak. We would be doing the opposite if we began to see our students as commodities, if we believed that the mission of OLQPwere to convert students “into objects – into repositories of knowledge, like rather special computers.”
One important goal education is to help students engage what it means to be human; we Christians would its purpose is to help them engage what it means to bear the very image and likeness of God. In this regard, education is liberation/celebration because it engages what genuinely and authentically makes us who we are, who we are meant to be. At its best, education frees not only the intellect but also each student’s talents, creativity, energy, etc.
We are concerned with the care of each individual, but the goal of Jesuit education is to form “men and women for others.” This theme simply recognizes that education is a social activity, with a social purpose. Again, Nyerere:
The first essential of the liberated person is an awareness of two things: his or her own humanity, and the power of the human person to use circumstances rather than to be used by them. He or she must overcome any ingrained feelings of inferiority, or superiority, and therefore be able to cooperate with other people, on the basis of equality, for their common purposes. (language changed re: gender; emphasis added)
In my two months at language school I have had numerous conversations with Tanzanians about these “ingrained feelings of inferiority,” a vestige of colonialism (as are the “ingrained feelings of superiority” wazungo feel, if we’re going to be honest, no?). The answer is not to educate for selfishness, though; education has to be at the service of the community, “common purposes,” as Nyerere calls them.
We haven't had Internet for a week, and we still don't have wireless. I'd written an email to friends about the blog on my iphone, waiting for the time when wireless returned. It must have "slipped out" when I passed wifi somewhere in town! I have some new posts waiting for when wireless returns.
I’ve been reading more of the writings on education of Mwalimu (Teacher) Julius Nyerere, Baba wa Taifa (Father of the Nation). I wrote about my initial reading of him some months ago. I continue to be moved by what he wrote and continue to think that what he wrote about education (formed in great part by his Catholic faith and his devotion to the social teachings of the Church) should inform what we do at OLQP. The words of Pedro Arrupe, a beloved former superior general of the Society of Jesus who died in 1991, echo through the halls of Jesuit schools. He counseled the alumni of our schools to be “men and women for others,” thus urging our schools to be places of formation of young people to be such. Nyerere had the same vision (though as president of Tanzania Nyerere could not complete Arrupe’s thought: “Be men and women for others modeled after the man for others, Jesus Christ).
An English poet, Hillaire Belloc, expressing the power of the colonizer against the powerlessness of the victim penned the couplet: “Whatever happens we have got/The maxim gun, and they have not."
The maxim gun or its modern equivalent will still be used by those who have it against those who do not; and some of those who do not have it will try to acquire it. But increasingly most nations will tend to leave the competition in acquiring the maxim guns to the very rich or to the very foolish. The instrument of domination of the future is going to be education. Fortunately, in the acquisition of that instrument, we can compete and all win with honour.
If, therefore, we do not want to be the permanent source of the hewers of wood and drawers of water for the educated of this world, we must seriously enter this honourable competition for knowledge. So I want to use this opportunity to stress once again, a few points about our education generally…
First our education should be universal…
Secondly our education should be of good quality…
Thirdly, our education should be relevant…
Finally our education should be socially responsible. Education for Self-Reliance is not education for selfishness. Yes it is also for the Self-Reliance of our country. I believe that the community has a responsibility to educate its members. But a poor country like Tanzania cannot afford to educate the selfish. It invests in the education in a belief that such investment is good for both the individual concerned and for the community as a whole. In the language of yesterday: Education for Self-Reliance should be Education for Service.
Not all of us will have the same concept of community, but all of us have a need to belong. However socially insensitive we may be, we have a need to belong to a community of fellow human beings. No human being can make it alone.
The causal factors between education and development are not clear – and even questioned among many very reputable scholars. I think maybe Nyerere gives us a way out so that we aren’t too frustrated in this country when the effects of education are not seen immediately re: development. The first step is to provide an education for a greater measure of self-determination.
However many characteristics of Jesuit education that we list, one is always featured among our graduates: “The Jesuits taught me how to think; how to argue, and how to see the holes in other people’s arguments.” This very sort of education will provide great benefit to the citizens of this great country. We will be educating men and women for others; our graduates will apply their sharp analysis to the problems and proposals faced in this country. Our prayer and expectation is that they will do so not so much simply to benefit themselves, but for the common good of all.
That isn’t the only important characteristic of Jesuit education, of course. We want to form our students not only to be keen analysts of social situations able to act prudently on their analysis for the benefit of the least among us but also to be beholders of the grace of God.
Folks have asked me about mail. I’ve hesitated to answer until I had a better sense.
What follows is what I’ve come to understand, both from others and from reading.
My friend Nancy Brewer sent me some CDs of the talks she went to at Chautauqua this summer, and they reached me in ten days time from Los Angeles (thanks, Nancy!).
The mail service in Tanzania is not as efficient as the U.S. Postal Service. I mentioned how quickly mail arrived from Los Angeles, but from what I understand it can take a bit longer from here to the US.
People have asked in particular about sending care packages. From what I understand, such can be a frustrating experience for all involved due to not infrequent theft and heavy customs taxes. So please, don’t send any costly items through the mail.
I understand that packages sent in padded envelopes do better than boxes.
I apologize for this long post. Folks might appreciate reading some of the items from the Synod on Africa, just coming to a close in Rome. Here is a link to the full text (still in draft form).
I: LOOKING AT AFRICA TODAY
Rich in human and natural resources, many of [Africa's] people are still left to wallow in poverty and misery, wars and conflicts, crisis and chaos. ... [These] are largely due to human decisions and activities by people who have no regard for the common good and this often through a tragic complicity and criminal conspiracy of local leaders and foreign interests.
There is much good news in many parts of Africa. But the modern media often tend to emphasize bad news and thus seem to focus more on our woes and defects than on the positive efforts that we are making. ... Signals abound of many initiatives seeking to bring effective solutions to our problems.
II: IN THE LIGHT OF FAITH
True pardon promotes the justice of repentance and reparation, leading to a peace that goes to the roots of conflict, making friends, brothers and sisters out of former victims and enemies. Since it is God who makes this kind of reconciliation possible, we must give adequate place for prayer and the sacraments in this ministry, especially the Sacrament of Penance".
III: TO THE WORLD CHURCH
The Church in Africa thanks God for many of her sons and daughters who are missionaries on other continents. ... Special thanks go to those who have remained with their people even in times of war and grave crisis. Some have even paid for their fidelity with their very lives.
IV: THE CHURCH IN AFRICA
We are convinced that the first and most specific contribution of the Church to the people of Africa is to proclaim the Gospel of Christ. ... In this regard, all members of the Church, clergy, religious and lay faithful, must be mobilised to work together in the unity that brings strength.
As bishops, we challenge ourselves to work in unity in our various Episcopal Conferences. ... The unity of the episcopacy is a source of great strength, while its absence wastes energies, frustrates efforts and gives room for the enemies of the Church to neutralise our witness. An important area where such national cooperation and cohesion is very useful is in the media and social communications.
Each bishop ... should ensure the establishment of a Justice and Peace Commission at all levels. We should continue to work hard on forming consciences and changing hearts, through effective catechesis at all levels.
Our dioceses must be models of good governance, transparency and good financial management. We have to continue to do our best to tackle poverty, which is a major obstacle to peace and reconciliation. Here suggestions for micro-finance schemes deserve careful attention.
In this Year for Priests, dear brothers in the priesthood, we address you in particular, who occupy a key position in the apostolate of the diocese. ... Catechesis, formation of the laity, the pastoral care of people in high office; none of these will go far without your full commitment in your parishes and different places of assignment. ... Your fidelity to the priestly commitment, particularly to a life of celibacy in chastity, as well as detachment from material things is an eloquent witness to the People of God.
Africa in recent years has also become very fertile ground for religious vocations: priests, brothers and sisters. We thank God for this great blessing. ... In particular, the Synod congratulates you, women religious, for your dedication and zeal in your apostolate of health, education and other areas of human development.
This Synod turns with deep affection to the lay faithful of Africa. You are the Church of God out in the market places of society. It is in and through you that the life and witness of the Church are made visible to the world. ... Allow your Christian faith to permeate every aspect and facet of your lives; in the family, at work, in the professions, in politics and public life. This is no easy task. That is why you must assiduously access the means of grace, through prayer and the Sacraments.
The Synod has a very important and special message for you, our dear African Catholics in public life. We commend the many of you who, not minding all the dangers and uncertainties of politics in Africa, have generously offered yourselves for the public service of your people, as an apostolate to promote the common good and God's kingdom. ... Africa needs saints in high political office: saintly politicians who will clean the continent of corruption, work for the good of the people, and know how to galvanize other men and women of good will from outside the Church to join hands against the common evils that beset our nations. ... Many Catholics in high office have fallen woefully short in their performance in office. The Synod calls on such people to repent, or quit the public arena and stop causing havoc to the people and giving the Catholic Church a bad name.
Dear Catholic families of Africa, we congratulate you for doggedly remaining true to the ideals of the Christian family and retaining the best values of our African family. We alert you to be on your guard against some virulent ideological poisons from abroad, claiming to be "modern" culture. You should continue to welcome children as gift from God, and train them in the knowledge and fear of God, to be people of reconciliation, justice and peace in future. ... Poverty often makes parents unable to take good care of their children, with disastrous consequence. ... Most families are asking for just what is enough for survival. They have a right to live.
The specific contribution of women, not only in the home as wife and mother but also in the social sphere should be more generally acknowledged and promoted. The Synod recommends to our local Churches to go beyond the general statement of EIA, and put in place concrete structures to ensure real participation of women "at appropriate levels".
We feel the need to pay particular attention to you, young adults. You are often neglected, left adrift as targets for all kinds of ideologies and sects. You are the ones most often recruited and used for violence. We urge all the local Churches to consider the apostolate to the youth a high priority.
V: AN APPEAL TO THE INTERNATIONAL COMMUNITY
To the great powers of this world, we plead: treat Africa with respect and dignity. Africa has been calling for a change in the world economic order, with unjust structures piled heavily against her. Recent turmoil in the financial world shows the need for a radical change of rules. But it would be a tragedy if adjustments are made only in the interest of the rich and again at the expense of the poor. Many of the conflicts, wars and poverty of Africa derive mainly from these unjust structures.
A change is called for with regard to the debts burden against poor nations, which literally kills children. Multinationals have to stop their criminal devastation of the environment in their greedy exploitation of natural resources. It is short-sighted policy to foment wars in order to make fast gains from chaos, at the cost of human lives and blood. Is there no one out there able and willing to stop all these crimes against humanity?
VI: AFRICA, RISE UP!
We commend the efforts to liberate Africa from cultural alienation and political bondage. ... On the economic front, Africa has tried to fashion for herself a strategic framework for development called NEPAD, New Economic Partnership for African Development. ... The Synod commends these efforts, because these programmes clearly link economic emancipation of Africa with the installation of good governance. Here, unfortunately, is the sticking point. For most African nations the beautiful documents of NEPAD are still a dead letter.
The Synod happily congratulates the few countries in Africa which have started on the route of genuine democracy. ... The Synod is sad to note that the situation in many countries is a great shame. We think in particular about the ... situation in Somalia, ... in Northern Uganda, South Sudan, Darfur, Guinea Conakry and other places. ... Whatever may be the responsibility of foreign interests, there is always the shameful and tragic collusion of the local leaders: politicians who betray and sell out their nations.
VII: JOINING OUR SPIRITUAL FORCES
The Synod calls for ever greater ecumenical collaboration with our brothers and sisters of other Christian traditions. We also look forward to more dialogue and cooperation with Muslims, the adherents of African Traditional Religion (ATR) and people of other faiths. Religious fanaticism is ... causing havoc in many parts of Africa. From our traditional religious culture, Africans have imbibed a deep sense of God, the Creator. ... When this religious fervour is misdirected by fanatics or manipulated by politicians, conflicts are provoked that tend to engulf everyone.
The Synod heard the testimony of many Synod Fathers who have successfully walked the road of dialogue with Muslims. ... The issues of reconciliation, justice and peace generally are concerns for entire communities, irrespective of creed. Working on the many shared values between the two faiths, Christians and Muslims can contribute greatly towards restoring peace and reconciliation in our nations.
Freedom of religion includes also freedom to share one's faith, to propose, not impose it, to accept and welcome converts. Those nations which by law forbid their citizens from embracing the Christian faith are depriving their own citizens of their fundamental human right to freely decide on the creed to embrace. ... This Synod warns that such restriction of freedom subverts sincere dialogue and frustrates genuine collaboration. Since Christians who decide to change their religion are welcomed into the Muslim fold, there ought to be reciprocity in this matter. Mutual respect is the way forward.
