Experiencing Mwanza

           For the last two and a half weeks, my new team Crux and I
have been living in Mwanza, Tanzania on the southern coast of Lake Victoria.  This is our third month in Africa, and ministry is somewhat similar everywhere we
go. We are expected to do most of the
preaching and public praying in church and at crusades. As one fellow Racer put it best, it’s almost
like reverse racism when it comes to the African church leaders and the Mzungus
(white people); it’s as if they believe that because we are American or came so
far to serve them that we somehow have more biblical knowledge, better words to
speak, or more powerful prayers. As far
as I’m concerned, we’re all reading the same book, all have the same access to
the Father, and last time I checked we’re hardly “professionals.” Other
ministry includes the door-to-door evangelism, visiting church members in their
homes to spend time and pray with them, and going to hospitals and praying for
the very sick (Malaria, HIV/Aids, etc.) and injured (motorbike accidents,
electrocution burns, etc.). 

            Now I do
not want to belittle our ministry by rushing through such a quick description
of it. Everywhere we go God’s kingdom
advances. We have seen dozens of people
come to accept Jesus as their personal savior this month, have powerfully
touched others with our preaching, and have brought, at a minimum, comfort, if
not full healing to those sick I mentioned. Above all, we have perhaps broken down perceptions about Americans or
Christians or Mzungus in general, opening the eyes of locals. 

            But our
experience of each country goes far beyond our ministry. As I was thinking the other day from the
front porch of our pastor’s house where we stayed, we are very lucky. Lucky because other foreign travelers passing
through the third world places such as these will never get the full and true
experience of the place that we do. Backpackers may see the same city, but while they stay in hostels filled
with other foreigners and reminders of home, we actually get to live in a
Tanzanian family’s humble abode. While a
backpacker hostel may be downtown, our home is about a twenty minute walk from
where the dolla dolla (bus taxi) drops us off – the trek concluded with a
straight shot up the rocky path to get to the top of the mountain where we’re
staying. And while a backpacker’s diet
might consist of some local food and then many other restaurants where they can
get something more familiar and comfortable, our team ate three meals a day at
the home, prepared just as the family would normally eat it. Rice. Beans. Chapati. Tea or milk. You get the idea.

            I can make
the comparisons between backpacker and World Racer because I’ve been the
backpacker. During my semester of study
abroad in Singapore, our
group traveled all around Southeast Asia,
staying at all the cheapest hostels. At
the time, we relished the more authentic experience that a hostel gives over a
regular hotel. And now I see just how
much further a hostel still has to go. No hostel can tell me what it’s like when the youngest son of an African
pastor cries in the middle of the night – or what that pastors PJs look like as
he tries to console him. No hostel can
show me what it’s truly like to live with neighbors on every side no more than
a few meters away; and how that
community supports and cares for one another. You probably won’t get the opportunity, as Steph did, to chase down a
duck and then carry it home by its wings for dinner at a hostel. At a hostel, you most likely won’t have to
take a bucket “shower.” Here, this is
all we know. Or have you ever had to
squat down over a hole in the ground (hence the name “squatty potty”) when you
had the runny stomach? More importantly,
have you ever walked out of an African family’s home to view a beautiful sunset
shimmering across Lake Victoria and falling behind the cascading
hill/mountains, one of which you are on top of?

            On a side
note, the men of the squad have assembled in Nairobi
and head out first thing tomorrow morning to spend our last couple weeks in Africa with the Maasai warrior tribe. Please keep us in your prayers, as well as
all our girls who are back at their Tanzanian ministry location. And for anyone
who would like to catch up, I will be able to Skype in your mornings, my
afternoons/nights of March 4^th and 5^th before we head to India on the 6^th. Love you all.