I have a great wireless connection here in London, so I've been able to upload the promised videos.
I also uploaded them to a youtube page, so that might be the place for one-stop viewing: http://www.youtube.com/user/MartinConnellsj.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Here's to Loyola High School
I spent this morning catching up on a few New Yorker magazines – I’ve gotten to the March 30th issue to give you some notion of what my life has been like these last months. I also toured Loyola High School here in Dar es Salaam. This school has a national reputation for its excellence—and this in just fourteen years of existence. You see, until recently rote memorization of facts in preparation for the national examinations has been the order of the day, but from its very start Loyola High School has been devoted to understanding rather than simple memorization. There are over a thousand students.
It’s an impressive campus located in the Mabibo neighborhood. The specific site used to be called Mabibo Farasi because of the horse-breeding estate at its center (farasi being the Kiswahili word for horse); it is now known as Mabibo Loyola because of the school, which replaced the estate. Don’t be fooled by “horse-breeding estate”; the school was located here because, as the written history in the school’s student handbook states, “The Jesuits wished to offer quality education for those with the ambition to study but are not able to afford such education.” Admission is based entirely on merit. The benefactions of many in the States have allowed a number of poor but worthy students seek their academic fortunes here.
I had a chance also to meet with Fr. Karongo, SJ, the present headmaster. He gave me some things to think about, shared with me some of the school’s materials, and introduced me to some of the school personnel. (Incidentally, the portrait of the school's first headmaster, Fr. Dick Twohig, SJ, of the Detroit Province, hangs in the headmaster's office.) At breakfast Fr. Georges Kimonge, SJ, the school’s bursar, gave some very good and wise counsel. The Jesuits here at Loyola High School and their colleagues are obviously running a great school benefiting so many; I look forward to learning from them as I make my way in Dodoma.
(The video starts first with the Jesuit community and then goes to the playing field before going to the various "blocs.")
It’s an impressive campus located in the Mabibo neighborhood. The specific site used to be called Mabibo Farasi because of the horse-breeding estate at its center (farasi being the Kiswahili word for horse); it is now known as Mabibo Loyola because of the school, which replaced the estate. Don’t be fooled by “horse-breeding estate”; the school was located here because, as the written history in the school’s student handbook states, “The Jesuits wished to offer quality education for those with the ambition to study but are not able to afford such education.” Admission is based entirely on merit. The benefactions of many in the States have allowed a number of poor but worthy students seek their academic fortunes here.
I had a chance also to meet with Fr. Karongo, SJ, the present headmaster. He gave me some things to think about, shared with me some of the school’s materials, and introduced me to some of the school personnel. (Incidentally, the portrait of the school's first headmaster, Fr. Dick Twohig, SJ, of the Detroit Province, hangs in the headmaster's office.) At breakfast Fr. Georges Kimonge, SJ, the school’s bursar, gave some very good and wise counsel. The Jesuits here at Loyola High School and their colleagues are obviously running a great school benefiting so many; I look forward to learning from them as I make my way in Dodoma.
(The video starts first with the Jesuit community and then goes to the playing field before going to the various "blocs.")
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Departure from Dodoma
Apologies for the screwed up chronology of these posts. One thing I didn't mention was the visit to my room by Sossy before I left. He asked me if I had room in my luggage (I over-packed like you wouldn't believe!). Whereupon he presented me with a gift from the community, a crucifix hand-carved from a single piece of wood by a parishioner.
Back in D'Salaam
I arrived this evening in Dar, kindly schlepped here by an employee of the contractor at OLQP. It's a drive of a little less than six hours between Dodoma and Dar. One drives through Morogoro on the way -- the Morogoro region is really very, very lovely. The Lutheran Junior Seminary, where I'll study Kiswahili when I return in late August, is located just south of the city.
We left from the OLQP site. They're starting to lay blocks for the dormitory buildings -- things have progressed during my week here. It is wonderful to see this -- and to see Sossy's delight.
Last night I went with a diocesan priest on sabbatical at the Jesuit parish to one of the neighborhoods. One of the small Christian neighborhood communities had a Mass. It was a moving experience -- the parish choir sang, and the neighborhood was filled with incredible music. I was introduced again, and got all mixed up -- saying asanta sana (thank you) when I meant to say habari (hello). The folks enjoyed my confusion, and so did I. Sodas and peanuts (a popular snack here) were served after Mass.
Monday night we celebrated Bro. Vincent's birthday. (He is the gardner for OLQP, and though there is not yet a garden there are hundreds of saplings waiting to be planted as soon as the heavey equipment has left the site). The volunteers came over for the night as well as a lay colleague from St. Ignatius Primary School and his wife. It was a delightful evening. Here are some pictures from the evening. One of Bro. Vincent and in the backround a volunteer, Martina from Bavaria. The other of the whole group of us.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Monday, 25 May
This morning I went again to St. Ignatius Primary School, to the OLQP site, and again to the University of Dodoma.
Here's the picture of me in front of a newly established local business that I promised (Again, regardless of your political persuasion, I hope you can understand the pride of folks in East Africa):
Here's a picture of me in cow shed at the primary school (having troubles posting the other photos from there). They have four cows for the primary school. The milk is used in the porridge in the morning -- protein that most of the students wouldn't otherwise have. With 500 acres, we'll have a small dairy herd along with goats and a chicken run in order similarly to get protein into our students' diets.
Friday, 22 May
The highlight of the day was another, more formal, visit to St. Ignatius Primary School. I and other members of the Jesuit community here in Dodoma were treated as honored guests. When we arrived we sat with the faculty to receive a report from one of the teachers. The report really was a SWOT –an account of the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, threats related to the work of St. Ignatius. The report was peppered with the school’s motto. He would say, “Education!” and everyone would respond, “For life!” After his report and some word of thanks and response from Sossy regarding some of the issues – especially the more pressing needs faced by the school – teachers were invited to pose any questions they wished to the director, Sossy. There being none, we retired to the school’s refectory for a late lunch – chicken and rice and vegetables (and as much Kilimanjaro beer as anyone would want – or Fanta).
While we were busy meeting and playing the students were busy with their Friday afternoon sports. What is notable about this is that they manage to play for a few hours on Friday without much adult supervision at all. An adult will check in on them from time to time, but they manage squabbles, decide rules, and figure out troubles, etc., on their own. The responsibility they have is one of the remarkable things about the children here. Older children take care of their younger siblings. You regularly see eight year olds toting their toddler siblings on their back. It’s certainly not that they have no childhood as conceived as carefree as in the States, but that they are also entrusted with a certain degree of responsibility not imagined in other places.
The highlight of Friday evening was the meal. It was my first encounter with food I had some uncertainty about. Sossy warned me that the meat was game meat, which he loves. What I heard was dig-dig—I’m uncertain if that’s the actual spelling. From my research, I’ve figured out that it is also known as bush duiker, a tiny antelope that lives in the thickets. It tasted just like chicken. Of course I’m kidding – it was very rich, subtle, tender meat (like less-goaty goat).
While we were busy meeting and playing the students were busy with their Friday afternoon sports. What is notable about this is that they manage to play for a few hours on Friday without much adult supervision at all. An adult will check in on them from time to time, but they manage squabbles, decide rules, and figure out troubles, etc., on their own. The responsibility they have is one of the remarkable things about the children here. Older children take care of their younger siblings. You regularly see eight year olds toting their toddler siblings on their back. It’s certainly not that they have no childhood as conceived as carefree as in the States, but that they are also entrusted with a certain degree of responsibility not imagined in other places.
The highlight of Friday evening was the meal. It was my first encounter with food I had some uncertainty about. Sossy warned me that the meat was game meat, which he loves. What I heard was dig-dig—I’m uncertain if that’s the actual spelling. From my research, I’ve figured out that it is also known as bush duiker, a tiny antelope that lives in the thickets. It tasted just like chicken. Of course I’m kidding – it was very rich, subtle, tender meat (like less-goaty goat).
Saturday, 23 May
Today was a very quiet day. I went into town with Malasi to get passport photos taken. While there, we passed by the Bunge (that’s a two syllable word with a hard “g” sound), the parliament building.
Other than that, most of the day was spent reading and resting.
Other than that, most of the day was spent reading and resting.
Sunday, May 24
The highlight of the day was going to the 07h30 Mass. You’ll find some video of it here soon enough, I hope. Imagine a church built to hold 1,200 people with SRO for an early morning Mass. This week was the Catholic student choir from the University of Dodoma – really very wonderful. It was a moving experience for me.
What moved me most was the offering. First people came up in procession to different stations and inserted bills or coins into locked toolboxes with slits in them. When this was done, a procession of food items along with the bread and wine were brought up: bananas, bags of rice, a case of Fanta, and a clucking hen (which we had for lunch!). It was a real sense of folks giving of themselves.
I did some writing in the afternoon (I’m working on job descriptions, doing some budgeting, and also working on beginning to formulate foundational documents for the school). I walked around a bit in the afternoon as the children were preparing for the 16h00 children’s Mass and then attended the beginning of the first Mass. In an earlier blog I mentioned the measure of responsibility given to children. This was witnessed again at the Mass, where a ten-year-old girl was directing the music – and very fine music, too, as you’ll witness.
In the late afternoon Michel brought Steve, a Jesuit visiting from Mauritius, and me to a parishioner’s home. There we enjoyed some conversation and a few Kilimanjaro beers. During the visit, we began talking about various foods, including pork. Pork is popularly referred to either as “Catholic goat” or kitimoto (hotseat –not sure of the spelling). These are the popular names because there are, in fact, Muslims who enjoy the meat forbidden to them – thus Catholic goat. It is called “hot seat” because Muslims ordering the meat at pubs are constantly jumping out of their seats – as if they were hot – to check if anyone might catch them.
The evening meal was spent with the volunteers, Catherine, Chiara, and Martina, at a restaurant just down the street, Leone l’Africana – a pizza joint. It was a nice evening.
What moved me most was the offering. First people came up in procession to different stations and inserted bills or coins into locked toolboxes with slits in them. When this was done, a procession of food items along with the bread and wine were brought up: bananas, bags of rice, a case of Fanta, and a clucking hen (which we had for lunch!). It was a real sense of folks giving of themselves.
I did some writing in the afternoon (I’m working on job descriptions, doing some budgeting, and also working on beginning to formulate foundational documents for the school). I walked around a bit in the afternoon as the children were preparing for the 16h00 children’s Mass and then attended the beginning of the first Mass. In an earlier blog I mentioned the measure of responsibility given to children. This was witnessed again at the Mass, where a ten-year-old girl was directing the music – and very fine music, too, as you’ll witness.
In the late afternoon Michel brought Steve, a Jesuit visiting from Mauritius, and me to a parishioner’s home. There we enjoyed some conversation and a few Kilimanjaro beers. During the visit, we began talking about various foods, including pork. Pork is popularly referred to either as “Catholic goat” or kitimoto (hotseat –not sure of the spelling). These are the popular names because there are, in fact, Muslims who enjoy the meat forbidden to them – thus Catholic goat. It is called “hot seat” because Muslims ordering the meat at pubs are constantly jumping out of their seats – as if they were hot – to check if anyone might catch them.
The evening meal was spent with the volunteers, Catherine, Chiara, and Martina, at a restaurant just down the street, Leone l’Africana – a pizza joint. It was a nice evening.
Friday, May 22, 2009
U of D
That’s the University of Dodoma! Go Lions! I actually don’t know if they have a mascot, but given that Lion Rock is a landmark in the city (where, of course, there are no lions nearby – the most ferocious mammal seen so far has been a cow with a mind of its own), it could be so.
As we made our way up to the university, which sits on a promontory overlooking the city, we passed by a commercial area. I didn’t have my camera with me, so we’ll return on Monday in order to take pictures of a huge depiction of President Obama and perhaps a picture of me enjoying a Kiliminjaro at “The New Obama Pub.” Whatever your politics, I hope you can appreciate what the presidency of Barack Obama means here. (President George W. Bush’s visit here a few years back was an important moment that expressed the friendship between the countries, too.)
The university is expansive – it’s hard to describe how very large the campus is, with buildings spaced up to, it seems, .5 mile from one another in some instances. The view is commanding. Of course, one of the highlights of the view will be of another impressive campus to the north: Our Lady Queen of Peace Educational Centre.
As we made our way up to the university, which sits on a promontory overlooking the city, we passed by a commercial area. I didn’t have my camera with me, so we’ll return on Monday in order to take pictures of a huge depiction of President Obama and perhaps a picture of me enjoying a Kiliminjaro at “The New Obama Pub.” Whatever your politics, I hope you can appreciate what the presidency of Barack Obama means here. (President George W. Bush’s visit here a few years back was an important moment that expressed the friendship between the countries, too.)
The university is expansive – it’s hard to describe how very large the campus is, with buildings spaced up to, it seems, .5 mile from one another in some instances. The view is commanding. Of course, one of the highlights of the view will be of another impressive campus to the north: Our Lady Queen of Peace Educational Centre.
Meeting the Bishop
Sossy brought be to the episcopal residence to meet the bishop of Dodoma, whom readers have heard about already from the earlier entry about the report of the ground breaking. Our meeting was brief but it was very powerful. He was very welcoming and encouraging. His invitation to help this local Church – with national implications, really – was most sincere.
When I spoke I lost it. I started recounting my conversation with Sossy and Deo in Berkeley. I mentioned that I had told Sossy that I didn’t want to be the mzungu who came with all the answers (although you can see that is a trap easily fallen into), and how Sossy assured me that they realized that I don’t have all the expertise but that I have some that they could use at this point. I also mentioned what both Tim Kesicki and Rui Nunes had shared with me: That I will learn something important about the spiritual life not available in the same way late modern industrial society (Okay, they didn’t say “late modern industrial society” but something like it ☺). Indeed, I’m beginning to see that after just a few days here I have a lot to learn from the Tanzanians in this regard. When I have the opportunity in the next day or so, I intend to tell Sossy that I am asking to be missioned here to assist in the founding of the Our Lady Queen of Peace Educational Center.
My fear is the vastness of the project. It will stretch me. I feel very comfortable relative to the skills needed to get an academic program up and running, but I have a lot to learn relative to the skills involved in this new job, which includes the duties associated with a high school president as conceived in Jesuit schools in the United States. This is to say that my experience has mostly been in how to spend money, not raise it and make budgets! The other fear is that there is so much more involved in running a boarding school (the first project of the centre) –a coeducational one for 1,200 students!
My Second Dinner in Dodoma
We were invited – six of us (including Sossy’s niece in town for business) – to the home of a parishioner for dinner. After we took our seats we were offered sodas, Kiliminjaro beer (which is soon becoming a favorite of mine), or water. After some visiting, I was asked to bless the food, and then we had our hands washed by our host, a very nice Tanzanian custom. The meal was extraordinary: rice, beans, a vegetable stew (not giving it the description it is due), chicken, and chapatti. For dessert, watermelon or avocado. The food was great, but the storytelling that accompanied it was wonderful, too. A wonderful evening.
A Visit to the Parish Youth Centre
Fr. Michel asked me to go over to the parish youth centre, where he was going to set up a pool table. The previous day he’d set up a ping-pong table, which, like the pool table had been sitting in a box, for some time. He got some of the young men to carry the table over to the area where it was to be set up and unboxed it. It had not gone unused during its time in the box: It served admirably as a rat’s nest (whose desiccated remains were present), as a lair for lizards, and a shelter for spiders.
After finding the right-sized spanners, they realized there was a slope — hard to play pool with such a slope. I’d noted that the bottoms of the legs were adjustable and started on my way to show them how to do this, having done the same recently with a rocking table at a restaurant. Michel, however, realized already that the screw that effected the adjustment was close to its end and cautioned me to stop. “We will take care of it in the African way.” He said this very matter-of-factly. It was however probably the most important thing I’ve learned so far, and on the way back home I told him so.
I will have answers, I will have proposals and suggestions during my time here, but these will have to be offered with some humility. Bricolage is a French term made famous by Lévi-Strauss; it is the artistic adeptness of inventing new use of material for something other than for what it was designed. I mentioned this to Michel, and he agreed that this is exactly the “African way,” making do with what is at hand.
On the way home I thanked him. He was afraid that he had offended me when I brought it up, but quite the opposite, quite the opposite.
After finding the right-sized spanners, they realized there was a slope — hard to play pool with such a slope. I’d noted that the bottoms of the legs were adjustable and started on my way to show them how to do this, having done the same recently with a rocking table at a restaurant. Michel, however, realized already that the screw that effected the adjustment was close to its end and cautioned me to stop. “We will take care of it in the African way.” He said this very matter-of-factly. It was however probably the most important thing I’ve learned so far, and on the way back home I told him so.
I will have answers, I will have proposals and suggestions during my time here, but these will have to be offered with some humility. Bricolage is a French term made famous by Lévi-Strauss; it is the artistic adeptness of inventing new use of material for something other than for what it was designed. I mentioned this to Michel, and he agreed that this is exactly the “African way,” making do with what is at hand.
On the way home I thanked him. He was afraid that he had offended me when I brought it up, but quite the opposite, quite the opposite.
To the OLQP Site
Sossy; Malasi, the scholastic (Jesuit in formation); and I headed from the primary school out to the school site. It was a windy, dusty day, which you’ll see in the accompanying clips. The following two show work on two of the structures. Notice the tractor-trailer traveling from right to left in the second clip; that will give you a sense just how big this campus is. The picture is taken not quite from the mid-point of the campus. There is also a panning shot of the site, looking toward U Dom.
In the present phase, the following buildings are going up: a classroom building with adjacent labs, faculty housing, dining hall with its secondary floor serving as a multi-purpose room, boys’ and girls’ dormitories with housing for the dorm matrons and patrons (as they are called here) between.
In the present phase, the following buildings are going up: a classroom building with adjacent labs, faculty housing, dining hall with its secondary floor serving as a multi-purpose room, boys’ and girls’ dormitories with housing for the dorm matrons and patrons (as they are called here) between.
St. Ignatius Primary School
This is the primary school associated with the parish. I’ll spend more time here tomorrow, Friday, having lunch with the faculty. We visited a few classes. The students were all very pleased to meet the visitor from the United States of America. They all have obvious affection for the pastor and director of the school, Sossy. Here’s a brief clip of the youngest who encountered us on their way to breakfast (porridge).
Mass in the Morning
The title of this entry reminds me of a great story my Aunt Ann Daudelin told me about an error in an obituary in the Toledo Blade, which I refer to as “one of America’s papers.” (You see the masthead of the paper used to –it may still have—the words “one of America’s finest newspapers.”) It seems whoever was taking the information over the phone didn’t get it quite right. Instead of “There will be a Mass of Christian burial on Friday at 10:00 a.m.” it appeared as “There will be a massive Christian burial…” That still gets me.
Having been awakened by the muezzin at 0515, I got up, showered, and got ready for morning Mass at 0630. I arrived to the singing of the congregation, led by some young girls and the sisters. The church, which holds over 1,000 people had at least 150 people in it. It was a moving experience – and this was a weekday Mass! I look forward to Sunday.
Having been awakened by the muezzin at 0515, I got up, showered, and got ready for morning Mass at 0630. I arrived to the singing of the congregation, led by some young girls and the sisters. The church, which holds over 1,000 people had at least 150 people in it. It was a moving experience – and this was a weekday Mass! I look forward to Sunday.
On the Road to Dodoma
Wednesday, 20 May
After the tour and a few minutes to pack my things, I headed with Fr. Damas to Dodoma. With us were his mother and sister, who live northwest of Dodoma, in Singida, I believe. His mother had been in Dar looking into what it would mean to have knee-replacement surgery. Between the walk and now this ride through the neighborhood to the road to Dodoma I saw what I had missed last night because of the darkness.
Because there is such un- and underemployment here, there are a lot of folks walking, visiting, sitting. But you also see in the neighborhood small businesses: hair, butchery, etc. People getting by. In addition to the adults are a good number of children not in school.
Once we hit the main road to Dodoma, I felt we were in a bustling metropolitan setting, though on its western edge. The neighborhood road comes out to the main road near the bus station. There were loads of mostly young men selling every sort of fruit, candy, and beverage, running along the busses as they were leaving the station. There were few takers from what I could see.
It took awhile to get out the city – though it has a semi-rural flavour after a few kilometres, the ubiquitous dalla-dallas – jam packed with riders — reminded me just how really close we were.
What can I say about the 300+ miles from Dar to Dodoma? Well one obvious thing is that there was not one half mile on the journey where we didn’t see a person along the road, walking or biking, selling food or charcoal, tending goats or pasturing cows (there were a number of Maasai men doing just that all along the route).
Fortunately Damas is a good and skilled driver. The busses zipped by us, and the busses headed toward Dar weren’t afraid to pass slow traffic, coming into our westbound lane with little distance. So not only will I have to relearn how to drive a manual transmission (I learned when I worked at St. Ambrose Housing Aid Center in Baltimore in 1983, but I didn’t really learn – I spent a lot of time using the hand-break on hills and riding the clutch at stops) -- not only will I have to relearn how to drive a manual transmission but I’ll have to learn to be a bit of a daredevil.
We stopped along the road in Morogoro, southeast of Dodoma, a little less than half way there. Suddenly our land cruiser was surrounded by folks selling oranges, bananas, and “milk bread” (otherwise known as white bread). When they saw me in the car, they started saying “Mzungu, mzungu (white guy, white guy), buy some oranges, buy some bananas, etc.” Damas’s sister bought some oranges and bananas and we were on our way.
Between Morogoro and Dodoma, Damas mentioned that his niece was at a boarding school just off the road. He hadn’t finished his sentence when he spotter her at the side of the road. He pulled over thirty yards ahead, and her mother called back to her. How happy she was to see them! We went ahead to the convent and friary (Italian Franciscans), and she caught up with us. After she had a chance to visit with her mother and grandmother along with the sisters while Damas and I enjoyed the hospitality of a Franciscan brother, we continued on the journey to our destination.
On the outskirts of Dodoma, Damas mentioned we were approaching the OLQP campus. He kindly pulled over for me to see it and then drove around to the entrance gate. The guard on duty let us pass, and we drove around the campus. The first impression, which you don’t get from the video, is just how big it is – the shortest length, along to Dodoma-Morogoro Road is 1.5 kilometres. The accompanying video captures this initial approach -- pardon the handheld camera. The University of Dodoma is next to the campus and its campus is huge. The combined immensity means that the university buildings (former parliament buildings to give you some sense of scale) are dots (large dots, but dots). The folks on the site were closing up shop for the day. Everyone seemed very industrious. I don’t know how obvious it is to you in the video, but this is “Big Sky Country.” It’s expansive. I’m sure I’ll head out for a more formal tour with Sossy in the next days.
After that quick tour we headed to the Jesuit parish, known by all as the “airport parish” because, well, it’s next to the airport. I have a comfortable room at the end of the house – about the size of the room I grew up in at 3627 Anderson Pkwy in Toledo. We ate at 19h00, joined by two of the volunteers, one who works at Ignatius Loyola Primary school and the other at an orphanage operated by the Ursuline sisters. I’ve been here for two days and have yet to have ugali! We had a wonderful meal of rice with a vegetable curry, chicken, a nice cabbage dish, and boiled corn – with pineapple for dessert. After dinner everyone takes some quiet time together in the chapel before returning for clean up. Not unlike many other Jesuit communities I have lived in, the next step was to catch the evening news, in this case BBC International. I didn’t last long and trundled off to my room for a bit of quiet time the product of which is in part what you’re reading.
After the tour and a few minutes to pack my things, I headed with Fr. Damas to Dodoma. With us were his mother and sister, who live northwest of Dodoma, in Singida, I believe. His mother had been in Dar looking into what it would mean to have knee-replacement surgery. Between the walk and now this ride through the neighborhood to the road to Dodoma I saw what I had missed last night because of the darkness.
Because there is such un- and underemployment here, there are a lot of folks walking, visiting, sitting. But you also see in the neighborhood small businesses: hair, butchery, etc. People getting by. In addition to the adults are a good number of children not in school.
Once we hit the main road to Dodoma, I felt we were in a bustling metropolitan setting, though on its western edge. The neighborhood road comes out to the main road near the bus station. There were loads of mostly young men selling every sort of fruit, candy, and beverage, running along the busses as they were leaving the station. There were few takers from what I could see.
It took awhile to get out the city – though it has a semi-rural flavour after a few kilometres, the ubiquitous dalla-dallas – jam packed with riders — reminded me just how really close we were.
What can I say about the 300+ miles from Dar to Dodoma? Well one obvious thing is that there was not one half mile on the journey where we didn’t see a person along the road, walking or biking, selling food or charcoal, tending goats or pasturing cows (there were a number of Maasai men doing just that all along the route).
Fortunately Damas is a good and skilled driver. The busses zipped by us, and the busses headed toward Dar weren’t afraid to pass slow traffic, coming into our westbound lane with little distance. So not only will I have to relearn how to drive a manual transmission (I learned when I worked at St. Ambrose Housing Aid Center in Baltimore in 1983, but I didn’t really learn – I spent a lot of time using the hand-break on hills and riding the clutch at stops) -- not only will I have to relearn how to drive a manual transmission but I’ll have to learn to be a bit of a daredevil.
We stopped along the road in Morogoro, southeast of Dodoma, a little less than half way there. Suddenly our land cruiser was surrounded by folks selling oranges, bananas, and “milk bread” (otherwise known as white bread). When they saw me in the car, they started saying “Mzungu, mzungu (white guy, white guy), buy some oranges, buy some bananas, etc.” Damas’s sister bought some oranges and bananas and we were on our way.
Between Morogoro and Dodoma, Damas mentioned that his niece was at a boarding school just off the road. He hadn’t finished his sentence when he spotter her at the side of the road. He pulled over thirty yards ahead, and her mother called back to her. How happy she was to see them! We went ahead to the convent and friary (Italian Franciscans), and she caught up with us. After she had a chance to visit with her mother and grandmother along with the sisters while Damas and I enjoyed the hospitality of a Franciscan brother, we continued on the journey to our destination.
On the outskirts of Dodoma, Damas mentioned we were approaching the OLQP campus. He kindly pulled over for me to see it and then drove around to the entrance gate. The guard on duty let us pass, and we drove around the campus. The first impression, which you don’t get from the video, is just how big it is – the shortest length, along to Dodoma-Morogoro Road is 1.5 kilometres. The accompanying video captures this initial approach -- pardon the handheld camera. The University of Dodoma is next to the campus and its campus is huge. The combined immensity means that the university buildings (former parliament buildings to give you some sense of scale) are dots (large dots, but dots). The folks on the site were closing up shop for the day. Everyone seemed very industrious. I don’t know how obvious it is to you in the video, but this is “Big Sky Country.” It’s expansive. I’m sure I’ll head out for a more formal tour with Sossy in the next days.
After that quick tour we headed to the Jesuit parish, known by all as the “airport parish” because, well, it’s next to the airport. I have a comfortable room at the end of the house – about the size of the room I grew up in at 3627 Anderson Pkwy in Toledo. We ate at 19h00, joined by two of the volunteers, one who works at Ignatius Loyola Primary school and the other at an orphanage operated by the Ursuline sisters. I’ve been here for two days and have yet to have ugali! We had a wonderful meal of rice with a vegetable curry, chicken, a nice cabbage dish, and boiled corn – with pineapple for dessert. After dinner everyone takes some quiet time together in the chapel before returning for clean up. Not unlike many other Jesuit communities I have lived in, the next step was to catch the evening news, in this case BBC International. I didn’t last long and trundled off to my room for a bit of quiet time the product of which is in part what you’re reading.
A Tour of St. John the Baptist Parish, Dar es Salaam
20 May After breakfast this morning Fr. Melchior, pastor of the Jesuit parish in Dar es Salaam – the parish in whose boundaries Loyola High School is found – took me on a tour. We walked from the community building over to the parish buildings. This tour started what was an overwhelming day. I saw poverty the likes of which I’ve never witnessed before. I know there are people in more dire straits than those in this neighborhood, but this is the greatest poverty I’ve witnessed. A lot of travel of folks on the road –rutted and narrow way is the better description – as we walked toward the parish compound. Melchior showed me how the building is falling apart. The settling is considerable, the cracks at places are wide enough to put two fingers in. What they couldn’t do with a structural engineer here to advise them!
The parish primary school is an obvious priority for him, and his devotion to the children is obvious. I enjoyed visiting two classrooms and being welcomed by the children. I did witness the difference re: pedagogy between what I’ve become accustomed to witnessing in so many US classrooms and here: There is much more stress on rote memorization, choral response, etc. A challenge lies ahead of me – but not an unwelcome one.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
A Tour of St. John the Baptist Parish, Dar es Salaam
After breakfast this morning Fr. Melchior, pastor of the Jesuit parish in Dar es Salaam – the parish in whose boundaries Loyola High School is found, took me on a tour. We walked from the community building over to the parish buildings. This tour started what was an overwhelming day. I saw poverty the likes of which I’ve never witnessed before. I know there are people in more dire straits than those in this neighborhood, but this is the greatest poverty I’ve witnessed. A lot of travel of folks on the road –rutted and narrow way is the better description – as we made our way. Melchior showed me how the building is falling apart. The settling is considerable, the crack as places wide enough to put two fingers in. What they couldn’t do with a structural engineer here to advise them! The parish primary school here is an obvious priority for him, and his devotion to the children is obvious. I enjoyed visiting two classrooms and being welcomed by the children. I did witness the difference re: pedagogy: There is much more stress on rote memorization, choral response, etc. A challenge lies ahead of me – but not an unwelcome one.
The Kindness of Strangers
Wednesday Morning
It’s 05h15 and the local muezzin has awakened me with his devotion. Actually, truth be told it is nearly the time I set the alarm for and his voice is a lovely one and the speakers being used seem of high quality.
It was a good night’s rest.
It’s 05h15 and the local muezzin has awakened me with his devotion. Actually, truth be told it is nearly the time I set the alarm for and his voice is a lovely one and the speakers being used seem of high quality.
It was a good night’s rest.
Karibu Tanzania
Those are the first words to be heard upon arrival: Welcome to Tanzania!
On Tuesday night I arrived to Dar es Salaam. (Don’t know when I’ll have internet connection to actually post this, so better just to write Tuesday night than last night, etc.). I must seem suspicious because of all of the passengers at the visa stop, I was the only who was required to have his picture taken and a visa insert pasted in my passport with the photo stating that I must leave the country on the day stated, 29 May. My greatest concern was that Fr. Mnubi from Loyola High School, who was waiting to schlep me back to LHS, would leave thinking, “He must have missed his flight.” It was dark –and even more than might be usual because of some problems with municipal electricity on this end of town – so I didn’t see so much at all. I did see the dalla-dallas that I’d heard and read about. Along the way, I’ll get a picture of one of these well-used mini-busses filled with folks.
I thought of my Dad and Ted Demski and also about the folks over on Larchmont Parkway in Toledo. In the heat of the summer my dad and Ted and Rob Loeb’s parents and their neighbors would take their lawn chairs out on the lawn or sit on the stoop and listen to the Tigers on WJR (“the great voice of the Great Lakes) and solve the world’s problems in this way. You see, as we made our way back along a certain stretch of road closer to LHS, folks were out of their houses enjoying the company of one another (assisted with a little something, from what I could tell); there was a summer vibrancy in the air – though, of course, technically being south of the equator we’re headed toward winter.
The road to LHS is in bad repair. Not sooo bad, though -- for Detroit area Jesuits: It’s half as bad as the road going from Colombiere to Gargaros (sp?) in the spring. The ruts here have a lot to learn from those car-swallowing (at least tire-swallowing) outside Clarkston, MI.
Finally, we arrive to a walled compound and the gate is opened for us. Electricity has been out here, too, but comes on just after we arrive. The lesson is to have a torch with you at all times – to be ready like the wise virgins (and with my iphone application, I was!).
Mnubi kindly showed me to my room, but couldn’t decide whether I was assigned to “s” or “m.” That frightened me only for a second until I realized these designations were meant for the community’s Superior and Minister who suffer and inflict their own sorts of pain! As we opened one of the screen windows up, we noticed a slight hole at the bottom, with a little lizard peeking its head through. I didn’t shriek, but I did make what must have been a perceptible flinch. As I said out loud “might as well get used to them now,” Mnubi noted that lizards are our friends – they stay away from us and feast on mosquitoes.
Community Mass is at 06h15 Mass tomorrow, so I should get some sleep. In order for that to happen with so much on my mind (not least of which is my sister Marcia’s, who is in a very bad state healthwise) I’ve asked someone who might help to make an introduction to Mr. Morpheus: Dr. Ambien; calling Dr. Ambien.
Good night.
On Tuesday night I arrived to Dar es Salaam. (Don’t know when I’ll have internet connection to actually post this, so better just to write Tuesday night than last night, etc.). I must seem suspicious because of all of the passengers at the visa stop, I was the only who was required to have his picture taken and a visa insert pasted in my passport with the photo stating that I must leave the country on the day stated, 29 May. My greatest concern was that Fr. Mnubi from Loyola High School, who was waiting to schlep me back to LHS, would leave thinking, “He must have missed his flight.” It was dark –and even more than might be usual because of some problems with municipal electricity on this end of town – so I didn’t see so much at all. I did see the dalla-dallas that I’d heard and read about. Along the way, I’ll get a picture of one of these well-used mini-busses filled with folks.
I thought of my Dad and Ted Demski and also about the folks over on Larchmont Parkway in Toledo. In the heat of the summer my dad and Ted and Rob Loeb’s parents and their neighbors would take their lawn chairs out on the lawn or sit on the stoop and listen to the Tigers on WJR (“the great voice of the Great Lakes) and solve the world’s problems in this way. You see, as we made our way back along a certain stretch of road closer to LHS, folks were out of their houses enjoying the company of one another (assisted with a little something, from what I could tell); there was a summer vibrancy in the air – though, of course, technically being south of the equator we’re headed toward winter.
The road to LHS is in bad repair. Not sooo bad, though -- for Detroit area Jesuits: It’s half as bad as the road going from Colombiere to Gargaros (sp?) in the spring. The ruts here have a lot to learn from those car-swallowing (at least tire-swallowing) outside Clarkston, MI.
Finally, we arrive to a walled compound and the gate is opened for us. Electricity has been out here, too, but comes on just after we arrive. The lesson is to have a torch with you at all times – to be ready like the wise virgins (and with my iphone application, I was!).
Mnubi kindly showed me to my room, but couldn’t decide whether I was assigned to “s” or “m.” That frightened me only for a second until I realized these designations were meant for the community’s Superior and Minister who suffer and inflict their own sorts of pain! As we opened one of the screen windows up, we noticed a slight hole at the bottom, with a little lizard peeking its head through. I didn’t shriek, but I did make what must have been a perceptible flinch. As I said out loud “might as well get used to them now,” Mnubi noted that lizards are our friends – they stay away from us and feast on mosquitoes.
Community Mass is at 06h15 Mass tomorrow, so I should get some sleep. In order for that to happen with so much on my mind (not least of which is my sister Marcia’s, who is in a very bad state healthwise) I’ve asked someone who might help to make an introduction to Mr. Morpheus: Dr. Ambien; calling Dr. Ambien.
Good night.
Karibu Tanzania
Those are the first words to be heard upon arrival: Welcome to Tanzania!
On Tuesday night I arrived to Dar es Salaam. (Don’t know when I’ll have internet connection to actually post this, so better just to write Tuesday night than last night, etc.). I must seem suspicious because of all of the passengers at the visa stop, I was the only who was required to have his picture taken and a visa insert pasted in my passport with the photo stating that I must leave the country on the day stated, 29 May. My greatest concern was that Fr. Mnubi from Loyola High School, who was waiting to schlep me back to LHS, would leave thinking, “He must have missed his flight.” It was dark –and even more than might be usual because of some problems with municipal electricity on this end of town – so I didn’t see so much at all. I did see the dalla-dallas that I’d heard and read about. Along the way, I’ll get a picture of one of these well-used mini-busses filled with folks.
I thought of my Dad and Ted Demski and also about the folks over on Larchmont Parkway in Toledo. In the heat of the summer my dad and Ted and Rob Loeb’s parents and their neighbors would take their lawn chairs out on the lawn or sit on the stoop and listen to the Tigers on WJR (“the great voice of the Great Lakes) and solve the world’s problems in this way. You see, as we made our way back along a certain stretch of road closer to LHS, folks were out of their houses enjoying the company of one another (assisted with a little something, from what I could tell); there was a summer vibrancy in the air – though, of course, technically being south of the equator we’re headed toward winter.
The road to LHS is in bad repair. Not sooo bad, though -- for Detroit area Jesuits: It’s half as bad as the road going from Colombiere to Gargaros (sp?) in the spring. The ruts here have a lot to learn from those car-swallowing (at least tire-swallowing) outside Clarkston, MI.
Finally, we arrive to a walled compound and the gate is opened for us. Electricity has been out here, too, but comes on just after we arrive. The lesson is to have a torch with you at all times – to be ready like the wise virgins (and with my iphone application, I was!).
Mnubi kindly showed me to my room, but couldn’t decide whether I was assigned to “s” or “m.” That frightened me only for a second until I realized these designations were meant for the community’s Superior and Minister who suffer and inflict their own sorts of pain! As we opened one of the screen windows up, we noticed a slight hole at the bottom, with a little lizard peeking its head through. I didn’t shriek, but I did make what must have been a perceptible flinch. As I said out loud “might as well get used to them now,” Mnubi noted that lizards are our friends – they stay away from us and feast on mosquitoes.
Community Mass is at 06h15 Mass tomorrow, so I should get some sleep. In order for that to happen with so much on my mind (not least of which is my sister Marcia’s poor state of health) I’ve asked someone who might help to make an introduction to Mr. Morpheus: Dr. Ambien; calling Dr. Ambien.
Good night.
On Tuesday night I arrived to Dar es Salaam. (Don’t know when I’ll have internet connection to actually post this, so better just to write Tuesday night than last night, etc.). I must seem suspicious because of all of the passengers at the visa stop, I was the only who was required to have his picture taken and a visa insert pasted in my passport with the photo stating that I must leave the country on the day stated, 29 May. My greatest concern was that Fr. Mnubi from Loyola High School, who was waiting to schlep me back to LHS, would leave thinking, “He must have missed his flight.” It was dark –and even more than might be usual because of some problems with municipal electricity on this end of town – so I didn’t see so much at all. I did see the dalla-dallas that I’d heard and read about. Along the way, I’ll get a picture of one of these well-used mini-busses filled with folks.
I thought of my Dad and Ted Demski and also about the folks over on Larchmont Parkway in Toledo. In the heat of the summer my dad and Ted and Rob Loeb’s parents and their neighbors would take their lawn chairs out on the lawn or sit on the stoop and listen to the Tigers on WJR (“the great voice of the Great Lakes) and solve the world’s problems in this way. You see, as we made our way back along a certain stretch of road closer to LHS, folks were out of their houses enjoying the company of one another (assisted with a little something, from what I could tell); there was a summer vibrancy in the air – though, of course, technically being south of the equator we’re headed toward winter.
The road to LHS is in bad repair. Not sooo bad, though -- for Detroit area Jesuits: It’s half as bad as the road going from Colombiere to Gargaros (sp?) in the spring. The ruts here have a lot to learn from those car-swallowing (at least tire-swallowing) outside Clarkston, MI.
Finally, we arrive to a walled compound and the gate is opened for us. Electricity has been out here, too, but comes on just after we arrive. The lesson is to have a torch with you at all times – to be ready like the wise virgins (and with my iphone application, I was!).
Mnubi kindly showed me to my room, but couldn’t decide whether I was assigned to “s” or “m.” That frightened me only for a second until I realized these designations were meant for the community’s Superior and Minister who suffer and inflict their own sorts of pain! As we opened one of the screen windows up, we noticed a slight hole at the bottom, with a little lizard peeking its head through. I didn’t shriek, but I did make what must have been a perceptible flinch. As I said out loud “might as well get used to them now,” Mnubi noted that lizards are our friends – they stay away from us and feast on mosquitoes.
Community Mass is at 06h15 Mass tomorrow, so I should get some sleep. In order for that to happen with so much on my mind (not least of which is my sister Marcia’s poor state of health) I’ve asked someone who might help to make an introduction to Mr. Morpheus: Dr. Ambien; calling Dr. Ambien.
Good night.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Window Wisdom
How's that for a good "thought for the day"? I saw it at as I was walking down a street here in Amsterdam, near the Leidseplein. In case you can't make out the script: "All political horror and social unhappiness comes from trading what we want most with what we want now." I'd say personal unhappiness, too. On the other hand, knowing what our deepest, holiest desires are and making choices based on them leads to happiness -- thank you St. Ignatius Loyola.
Window Wisdom
How's this for a good "thought for the day." I saw it at as I was walking down a street near my hotel.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Governor Jon Huntsman, Jr., of Utah
Why would I be writing on this blog about President Obama's choice of Governor Huntsman as abassador to China? Because the governor's explanation for his affirmative response to the president's request rather captures what this journey has been about:
I encourage my doctoral students to do word substitutions with articles and books they read (something I learned from Jason Raley, my dissertation director). Some substitution can be done here; "a provincial of the Society of Jesus who knows you and the stirrings of your heart" for "the president of the United States," for instance.
“When the president of the United States asks you to step up and serve in a capacity like this, that to me is the end of the conversation and the beginning of the obligation to rise to the challenge,”
I encourage my doctoral students to do word substitutions with articles and books they read (something I learned from Jason Raley, my dissertation director). Some substitution can be done here; "a provincial of the Society of Jesus who knows you and the stirrings of your heart" for "the president of the United States," for instance.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
How I Spend My Freetime
Studying Swahili grammar.
I arrived yesterday to Amsterdam; spent most of the day lying low -- a lot of thunderstorms rolling through. Tomorrow I visit the museums (the Rijksmuseum was closed when I visited last -- a chance to see the Vermeer paintings), and Monday I think I'll head out to Edam (cheesy, I know) at my friend Onno Kok's suggestion. He already won with his restaurant suggestion. On Tuesday, of course, I fly to Dar es Salaam, where I'll stay that night and then head to Dodoma. Fr. Sossy has arranged for me to travel with Fr. Damas, who used to work in the parish in Dodoma and was in on the early planning of OLQP; he is currently working with JRS (the Jesuit Refugee Service) in Western Tanzania.
Malkia wa Amani: Utuombe.
I arrived yesterday to Amsterdam; spent most of the day lying low -- a lot of thunderstorms rolling through. Tomorrow I visit the museums (the Rijksmuseum was closed when I visited last -- a chance to see the Vermeer paintings), and Monday I think I'll head out to Edam (cheesy, I know) at my friend Onno Kok's suggestion. He already won with his restaurant suggestion. On Tuesday, of course, I fly to Dar es Salaam, where I'll stay that night and then head to Dodoma. Fr. Sossy has arranged for me to travel with Fr. Damas, who used to work in the parish in Dodoma and was in on the early planning of OLQP; he is currently working with JRS (the Jesuit Refugee Service) in Western Tanzania.
Malkia wa Amani: Utuombe.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Day Trip to Santa Barbara
I had a full day on Monday. I headed up to Santa Barbara, where I was a guest in my friend Paul Orfalea’s class at UC Santa Barbara. I was supposed to go up on Friday, but a wildfire there (called the Jesusita fire after the trail it started near—which trail I used to hike when I lived in Santa Barbara) kept me here in Los Angeles. The dean emeritus of UCSB’s Gervirtz Graduate School of Education, Jules Zimmer, was a guest at the class as well. Paul’s very excited about my heading off to Dodoma and asked me to speak for a few minutes about Our Lady Queen of Peace Educational Centre. He’s keen on forging a relationship between the centre and the Orfalea Center for Global and International Studies at the university. Mark Juergensmeyer, director of the center, and I had only a brief chance to chat – we discovered that we have a mutual friend: Fr. John Coleman, SJ, who taught me at JSTB and until recently held the held the Casassa Chair in Social Values here at LMU. It was an interesting class. Afterward we followed the custom and went as a class to Freebirds for the world’s best burritos (Mark Orfalea, Paul’s cousin, is the restaurateur).
I have to say, though, that for me Paul’s taking me over to the offices of Direct Relief International was the highlight of the day. They provide “medical assistance to improve the quality of life for people affected by poverty, disaster, and civil unrest at home and throughout the world” and “work to strengthen the in-country health efforts of our partners by providing essential material resources – medicines, supplies and equipment.” The director, Thomas Tighe – a Bellarmine College Prep alumnus – was very generous with his time. He kindly introduced me to the folks most involved in their work in Africa, Paul Thompson and another of his colleagues (whose name – I’m sorry – I’ve forgotten) who had just returned from Tanzania. Thomas wants to help in any way they can. He suggested as we look forward to opening the two-year post-secondary program that we consider a program for health technicians (whose roles in Tanzania are very expanded), sorely needed in Tanzania. I’ll be in touch with these good folks when I return from my trip in June.
The day ended with a chance to spend time with my friends Jason and Carla and their daughters, Sela and Lilia. The trip back to Los Angeles provided me a chance to reflect on just how generous folks are.
Malkia wa Amani: Utuombe.
I have to say, though, that for me Paul’s taking me over to the offices of Direct Relief International was the highlight of the day. They provide “medical assistance to improve the quality of life for people affected by poverty, disaster, and civil unrest at home and throughout the world” and “work to strengthen the in-country health efforts of our partners by providing essential material resources – medicines, supplies and equipment.” The director, Thomas Tighe – a Bellarmine College Prep alumnus – was very generous with his time. He kindly introduced me to the folks most involved in their work in Africa, Paul Thompson and another of his colleagues (whose name – I’m sorry – I’ve forgotten) who had just returned from Tanzania. Thomas wants to help in any way they can. He suggested as we look forward to opening the two-year post-secondary program that we consider a program for health technicians (whose roles in Tanzania are very expanded), sorely needed in Tanzania. I’ll be in touch with these good folks when I return from my trip in June.
The day ended with a chance to spend time with my friends Jason and Carla and their daughters, Sela and Lilia. The trip back to Los Angeles provided me a chance to reflect on just how generous folks are.
Malkia wa Amani: Utuombe.
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