Here is where our journey takes an unplanned turn: Ian and I returned home to Sioux Falls Saturday Sept. 5, shortly one week after we departed with the best of intentions and well wishes from a mass of friends and family.
Why?
We have found this a question not simply answered. There is not a simple answer, and we are perplexed as well, but feel we owe our supporters an attempted explanation of some kind:
Beginning the first night in Dar Es Salaam(Sunday evening), we discovered that Ian was having severe anxiety about different aspects of our time in Tanzania. Really not too surprising, leaving and adjusting to new culture is a harsh shock to anyone's system. Seeking peace of some kind, we asked the other couple traveling with us if they would pray with us. We spent time in fervent prayer, feeling that Ian was under attack from forces that were trying to sabotage and prevent the work that we were going to be doing at the schools, seeking God's protection and amazing peace and reassurance. Unfortunately, rest and peace were not to be ours that night, and we continued into the next day without sleep, unsure what the next day and night would hold.
The following night(Monday) in Mafinga began with anxiety and nervousness on my part, but subsided as exhaustion won out. It was not long after we retired to our room in the guest house before the now familiar weight of panic descended on Ian. Time slows to a crawl and the room grows constricting when panic begins. Determined that we could beat the darkness this evening, we prayed and read Scripture aloud hoping for something concrete to cling to. The middle of this night was a place neither of us had visited before; crying out to God in sheer brokenness, in a foreign country, at a complete loss of what to do. Did God long to bring us to this place, to cry out to Him? We were there on our knees, seeking the peace that comes only from him, that can soothe a panicked soul. Again, peace was not to be ours that dark night, and the sun rose again on two exhausted souls.
Of course we were expecting that our move to Tanzania would come with a multitude of challenges, but we did not predict severe panic attacks and no sleep.
Daylight brought renewed hope that the night ahead would finally hold that most precious commodity: sleep. As written earlier, on Tuesday, we traveled to Madisi Secondary School and met the students that were going to be our hosts for the next two weeks. Knowing that we would be heading in different directions that evening was tough; who would be there for Ian in the dark? Before leaving with our students, we had a moment to speak privately with Steve Vinton, the director of Village Schools International who lives at Madisi School, and he reassured us that anxiety was not unexpected, but that it was something a person simply had to work through. If we were questioning our decision to support VST by teaching for a year, we could discuss that with him in the morning.
Tuesday night brought sleep for me, aside from rats and a smoky hut. Unfortunately, it brought panic and anxiety of a new degree for Ian while in a village more then an hour away from Madisi. Unable to effectively communicate with his host student, Musa, Ian explained his terror and panic as a fear of the dark and that he needed to return to the school. He was then able to spend the remainder of the night at one of the several teacher houses on the school grounds, after a good conversation with Steve. Returning to the school did not bring sleep, but it did bring brief reprieve to the gripping panic. I returned Wednesday morning from Leukadia's home in a nearby village, and was notified that Ian had returned to the school in the middle of the night.
We were now at a crossroad in our service with VST: staying would require over a week of nights in Musa's village and home(not a bad thing until night descended), and then moving farther away from communication and supervisors after the training period when we were assigned to a school to do our teaching. If we would decide to return to the United States, we would need to make the decision sooner than later.
I despise making huge decisions in a short amount of time; it leaves too much room for regret and decisions that were made on intense emotion alone.
We had just spent the last eight months preparing for this coming year of service and teaching; not just preparing, but anxiously and excitedly anticipating the journey. Everything in the United States had been taken care of for the coming year, and there was nothing that we needed to be home for. How could we even consider returning home after one week? Why were we able to raise $36,000 so easily, with support coming from all directions? It seemed that God was preparing us to go. The momentum was incredible, and we wanted to stay.
Ian and I met that afternoon, during a quiet time in our training, to pray and seek clear direction. We were not asking for a reason or clear explanation, but something, someone, that would direct us to stay and persevere through the sleepless nights or to face the confusion and questions that were inevitable if we were to return home.
Amy:
While sitting in our next group activity, a bible study, I heard a voice as clear as if the person was seated right next to me say: "I don't want one year, I want you for your entire life." Something like that cuts right through a person, and gave me chills. Without realizing, I had been thinking that if I could put in one year of extreme service and self-denial, I could return home and continue my life as desired. How foolish human reasoning sounds when spoken aloud. As I continued to meditate on that truth throughout our bible study, I realized that my year teaching in Tanzania was going to mean nothing to the Lord if it was going to be the extent of my service for sometime. I realized that if I was going to serve the Lord for the full duration, instead of earning "credit" from this coming year in Tanzania, I would rather return and begin anew. Couldn't I have come to this realization a few months earlier, before climbing aboard the plane, before involving so many other people?
After our group bible study, Ian and I reconvened and we both knew that we needed to return to the United States. With heavy hearts, we informed Steve of our decision, and he put the wheels in motion to get the bus tickets and plane tickets necessary for our return. Four days later, we arrived back in South Dakota, jet lagged, exhausted, and mainly confused.
Ian:
I don't know why I was not able find peace at night in Tanzania. Maybe I was supposed to endure another week or month of anxiety before I would relax and find my place. Maybe it would have ceased after one more night. Maybe we were just supposed to come home. I dont know, in the four days that it took us to return home I had plenty of time to sit and process this. I came to terms with the fact that I don't know why I experienced the feelings that I did. I dont know why preparations to go to Tanzania went so smoothly only to have things not work out when we arrived in the country. I don't think that I have the right to demand that I find out either. Maybe in the end, I was just not strong enough. I just don't know. But, I'm taking what I can (which is a lot!), good and bad from the time that I spent in Tanzania and I am moving forward.
God knows the big picture, which we are thankful for, because the immediate picture is a bit out of focus. Sharing our story is difficult and humbling, a valuable lesson in humility. We took so many people with us, in prayer and support, that returning is more difficult than deciding to move to Tanzania. Neither of us would speak so boldly as to say that it was God's will that we return home; our service in Tanzania seemed to have the Lord's blessing in the first place.
As for now, we are residing with Ian's parents, employment and apartment shopping, and trying to discern our next step. The only thing we do know for sure is that we have to keep moving forward.
Concerning the funds that everyone donated in support of Village Schools and the work we were doing, every penny will be used by Village Schools. Part of what makes VSI (Village Schools International) such a unique organization is their strong conviction that donors designate what they would like their money to go toward. The money we raised will not go into a general pot of money to be used however seems necessary by VSI. We have a variety of options: we can designate money to build classrooms ($4600/classroom), construct desks ($18/desk), or set up scholarships for female students ($75/scholarship).
*If you made a donation, we would welcome your request for the use of your donation. Any donations not directed by the donor, we will designate for classroom construction.
We would like to thank immensely our supporters, in prayer, gifts, time, and money. Please do not hesitate to contact us, we welcome any direction or insight, or any conversation.
Sincerely,
Ian and Amy Caselli
"May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from His glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light" - Colossians 1:11-12
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Photos and Video to Illustrate
Front of Madisi School, Says "VST" in stones
Example of Beautiful VST Buildings
(LtoR) Antonina, Leukadia, and friend
Musa
Futball!!
Musa and his friendTake a brief spin around the inside of the Madisi Secondary School Courtyard! Empty of students, but it was very early in the morning.
The Journey Continues...
Tuesday (Sept. 1) afternoon began with a two hour mini-bus ride down a gravel "road", the term being used very loosely here because neither of us had ever experienced a road like the one we were traveling on. I was amazed vehicles could continually weather driving conditions as harsh and uneven as the road we were on.
Nevertheless, we soon came into view of the very first VST school, Madisi Secondary School. The school's buildings perched on the top of a lush mountain, with a collection of villages below. What a moment to finally witness one of the schools that we have been working so hard to support. Actually arriving at the school required a bit more winding and turning to work our way to the top of the mountain. While driving, we passed through a small rural village called Igoda(pronounced: Egoda). Villagers were coming and going as we made our way through the village, and we proved to be quite a spectacle. Apparently, white American teachers don't make their way through the village on a daily basis...
Madisi being the original VST secondary school, it is the most established. Classrooms and teacher housing were completed and in use, along with a permanent home for Steve and Susan Vinton, Godfrey, and Emmanuali, the VST staff. Everything after our arrival in the middle of the afternoon happened in a rush: we were shuffled into one of the teacher houses that would serve as our home base during our two week training, told to pack our backpacks with what we'd need for one night in the village, introduced to a student who would be hosting us at their home in one of the surrounding villages for the next two weeks, fed a hot lunch, and were sent packing with our student! Whew! These events all took place so quickly, it was difficult to allow any part of this new reality to sink into our brain. Before we knew exactly what was going on, Ian and I were heading in opposite directions with our respectful students to begin a foreign adventure unlike anything we had experienced.
Here is where our stories split:
Amy and Leukadia(pronounced Layokadia):
As it turned out, Leukadia's home was in Igoda, the village we had passed through on our way to Madisi. Instead of walking on the winding road we traveled with the minibus, there was a well-worn footpath that led directly down the mountain Madisi was perched on and straight up the neighboring mountain. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line... regardless of the elevation. Several students from the school walked home on this path as well and it was clear that the hike did not faze them in the least. As for myself, my legs were burning and my heart was pounding at the end of our jaunt.
We discovered later that it is typical for students to want to help the teachers in any way, including carrying anything for the teacher. My backpack, mattress, pillow, and blanket for the night were spread among four students, all asking to carry my belongings for me. My hands were empty, while my students were heavy laden with my possessions. It is a sign of respect for students to carry a teacher's load, but was a gesture that I struggled with. These students are working all day at school, and returning home in the afternoon to work and cook, and study after it gets dark, the least I can do is carry my backpack and bed. Our 25-minute hike to the village was the beginning of my lesson in humbleness and humility.
As Leukadia and I hiked, we chatted as much as our languages would allow. Leukadia is studying for Form 3, the third of seven forms(exams) secondary students must pass before graduating to university. She is 18 years old and lives with three other female classmates in a home in Igoda. Her family lives in a different village miles and miles away, but she is living in Igoda to attend school at Madisi and recieve a quality education. One of her roommates, Antonina (pronounced: Antoneena) is only 17 and also studying for her Form 3 exam. I was amazed, these young girls are living alone in the village, responsible for every aspect of their own lives, and attending school. Jeesh, how immature I was at 18!
Our training instructor, Sarah, had hand-picked students that would be quality teachers of how to live in a village. These two weeks are designed to be training for how to cook, do laundry, clean, fetch water, and navigate life in a village so that we would be ready to live on our own at whatever school we would be assigned to teach at. My first lesson upon arrival at Leukadia's house was how to wash socks: a bar of soap and a shallow basin of water. Lather, rinse, repeat until socks from school uniform are white again, and then hang from clothesline to dry.
Leukadia's home consisted of six rooms. The rooms were built of mud bricks, a worn concrete floor, and a metal sheet roof. Each room had a small window with wooden shutters. We entered into the first middle room, with two smaller rooms on either side. These first three rooms seemed unoccupied, but when we walked into the second middle room, it was clear this was the living room/kitchen/dining room. Connected to either end of this multipurpose room were two bedrooms: one for Leukadia and Antonina, the other occupied by the remaining two female students.
Cooking consisted of metal bowl-like pot placed over small charcoal burners. This method was used to cook all of our dishes. Students go without food during the school day until they return home when school is finished at 3:00pm, so starting food cooking was the first priority. Our afternoon meal was small peas and ugali, a paste made of boiled flour and water rolled into a scoop and then used as a utensil. The ugali was more functional then flavorful, but the peas were cooked in an oil of some kind and seasoned with salt. When we finished eating, preparations began immediately for dinner, which is eaten just before retiring to bed. Leukadia began cooking the beans, which take hours to cook. While the beans cooked, we scrubbed dishes from the previous evening's meal, cleaned the floor of the house, visited the general store for more sugar and rice, ventured down the mountain to fetch water, and then returned to the house. Tasks that would take mere minutes in the US were time-consuming projects in the village. Because these tasks were new to me, I was not of much assistance to Leukadia. The girl worked tirelessly to complete the tasks of the day. I asked her if she was ever tired after her day at school, which had begun at 7am, to which she only responded "sometimes". Her work ethic was amazing to me, who would have craved a long nap after a long day at school and a brisk hike back to the village.
The sun rises and sets around 6am and 6pm each day. Before we knew it, it was dark outside, and even darker inside the house. A single oil lantern was our light source, along with a headlamp from my backpack. Leukadia's roommates were gone for the evening; they had returned to Madisi for an evening study group, taking advantage of the electricity provided by the gas generators that run in the evening. The two of us ate a tasty dinner of ugali with cooked greens(called chineese) and tomatoes. After dinner, I was ready to fall into bed, but Leukadia was just settling in for a session of studying, so I decided to journal for a bit before bedtime.
It is typical for students to share beds; both pairs of roommates shared a twin mattress. I didn't realize the luxury I had of sleeping on my own thin twin mattress. We laid my mattress in the middle multi-purpose room, and I settled in for the night. It is the end of winter in Tanzania right now, and the temperature was in the forties when I climbed under my blanket and prayer shawl. To stay warm, the girls build small wood fires in their rooms and keep them burning throughout the night. These fires made the house quite smoky and I feared we would all be victims of carbon monoxide poisoning.
Night sounds in a hut in rural Tanzania include chickens that crow anytime they please, dog fights, fires crackling, and of course, rats scurrying, digging, and dropping various objects from the ceiling. I took some solace in the fact that I was of little or no interest to the rats, and tried to sleep. I awoke in the middle of the night having to use the restroom, and here is my most courageous moment of the journey: getting up among the rats in the hut, venturing outside in the moonlight to the outhouse, and finding my way back to the hut and onto my mattress. It did require much courage and praying.
Morning came quickly and before I knew it, we were getting up, having a quick glass of Tanzanian tea(world reknown) and hiking back to Madisi.
Ian and Musa:
Soon after I watched Amy walk one direction, I was on my way in another. "How far is it to your house?" I asked Musa.
"Umm...one half hour?" Musa replied.
I had a suspicion that our concepts of time may vary.
"What kind of animals do you have here?" I asked as we started our first ascent up a large mountain.
"Not many here" Musa replied, "but there are monkeys where I am from".
I assumed this to mean that like the student Amy was staying with, Musa was from a far away village but was living in a closer village to attend secondary school.
"No" Musa said, "where we are going is where the monkeys are. I live with my mother."
An hour and a half later, after a beautiful hike over the large hills in the highland forests of Tanzania we arrived at Musa's home. I met Musa's mother and sister (his father had past away two years earlier) and we set straight to work on cooking. After we ate our rice, beans and ugali (which is challenging because even though it is light outside it is still very dark in the hut), we set into the evening tasks of doing laundry, fetching water, feeding banana leaves to Musa's pig (each year, Musa raises a pig to sell so he can pay his tuition) and most importantly, preparing dinner (rice and beans again).
The sun went down around 6pm and Musa set into his evening studies. I sat and watched as Musa worked hard on some extremely advanced Calculus homework. I was amazed at how determined Musa was in his studies. He was thankful for the opportunity to be spending four hours every evening doing homework! He truly valued the education he was getting. It was not until late in my college experience that I valued my education and to this day have bad memories of the few nights that I had to stay up late studying. The opportunity to be educated is Musa's hope for a better future for himself and his family. So much so that he was willing to study for four hours every night and walk over three hours a day in order to get it.
This next part of the story is a little harder to tell. To make a long story short, after a few hours of anxiety, panic and no sleep I woke Musa and he graciously escorted me all the way back to the school in the middle of the night. Please feel free to ask me and I will be able to give you a more descriptive explanation of my feelings at this point in the trip.
After training at the school the next day(Wednesday), Musa came and found me and we began the hike back to Musa's home. This time with camera in hand: Musa's hand. He was so excited to take pictures (116 of them to be exact!) That evening, we trekked all over the countryside taking pictures of everything Musa could think of. His primary school, church, two of his older sisters houses, his uncles house and anything else along the way Musa could find to take a picture of.
My time during the day with Musa, though short, was a joyful and a wonderful experience. I was sad to have to leave so soon but I was in great need of sleep and rest from the anxiety that I was experiencing at night.
Nevertheless, we soon came into view of the very first VST school, Madisi Secondary School. The school's buildings perched on the top of a lush mountain, with a collection of villages below. What a moment to finally witness one of the schools that we have been working so hard to support. Actually arriving at the school required a bit more winding and turning to work our way to the top of the mountain. While driving, we passed through a small rural village called Igoda(pronounced: Egoda). Villagers were coming and going as we made our way through the village, and we proved to be quite a spectacle. Apparently, white American teachers don't make their way through the village on a daily basis...
Madisi being the original VST secondary school, it is the most established. Classrooms and teacher housing were completed and in use, along with a permanent home for Steve and Susan Vinton, Godfrey, and Emmanuali, the VST staff. Everything after our arrival in the middle of the afternoon happened in a rush: we were shuffled into one of the teacher houses that would serve as our home base during our two week training, told to pack our backpacks with what we'd need for one night in the village, introduced to a student who would be hosting us at their home in one of the surrounding villages for the next two weeks, fed a hot lunch, and were sent packing with our student! Whew! These events all took place so quickly, it was difficult to allow any part of this new reality to sink into our brain. Before we knew exactly what was going on, Ian and I were heading in opposite directions with our respectful students to begin a foreign adventure unlike anything we had experienced.
Here is where our stories split:
Amy and Leukadia(pronounced Layokadia):
As it turned out, Leukadia's home was in Igoda, the village we had passed through on our way to Madisi. Instead of walking on the winding road we traveled with the minibus, there was a well-worn footpath that led directly down the mountain Madisi was perched on and straight up the neighboring mountain. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line... regardless of the elevation. Several students from the school walked home on this path as well and it was clear that the hike did not faze them in the least. As for myself, my legs were burning and my heart was pounding at the end of our jaunt.
We discovered later that it is typical for students to want to help the teachers in any way, including carrying anything for the teacher. My backpack, mattress, pillow, and blanket for the night were spread among four students, all asking to carry my belongings for me. My hands were empty, while my students were heavy laden with my possessions. It is a sign of respect for students to carry a teacher's load, but was a gesture that I struggled with. These students are working all day at school, and returning home in the afternoon to work and cook, and study after it gets dark, the least I can do is carry my backpack and bed. Our 25-minute hike to the village was the beginning of my lesson in humbleness and humility.
As Leukadia and I hiked, we chatted as much as our languages would allow. Leukadia is studying for Form 3, the third of seven forms(exams) secondary students must pass before graduating to university. She is 18 years old and lives with three other female classmates in a home in Igoda. Her family lives in a different village miles and miles away, but she is living in Igoda to attend school at Madisi and recieve a quality education. One of her roommates, Antonina (pronounced: Antoneena) is only 17 and also studying for her Form 3 exam. I was amazed, these young girls are living alone in the village, responsible for every aspect of their own lives, and attending school. Jeesh, how immature I was at 18!
Our training instructor, Sarah, had hand-picked students that would be quality teachers of how to live in a village. These two weeks are designed to be training for how to cook, do laundry, clean, fetch water, and navigate life in a village so that we would be ready to live on our own at whatever school we would be assigned to teach at. My first lesson upon arrival at Leukadia's house was how to wash socks: a bar of soap and a shallow basin of water. Lather, rinse, repeat until socks from school uniform are white again, and then hang from clothesline to dry.
Leukadia's home consisted of six rooms. The rooms were built of mud bricks, a worn concrete floor, and a metal sheet roof. Each room had a small window with wooden shutters. We entered into the first middle room, with two smaller rooms on either side. These first three rooms seemed unoccupied, but when we walked into the second middle room, it was clear this was the living room/kitchen/dining room. Connected to either end of this multipurpose room were two bedrooms: one for Leukadia and Antonina, the other occupied by the remaining two female students.
Cooking consisted of metal bowl-like pot placed over small charcoal burners. This method was used to cook all of our dishes. Students go without food during the school day until they return home when school is finished at 3:00pm, so starting food cooking was the first priority. Our afternoon meal was small peas and ugali, a paste made of boiled flour and water rolled into a scoop and then used as a utensil. The ugali was more functional then flavorful, but the peas were cooked in an oil of some kind and seasoned with salt. When we finished eating, preparations began immediately for dinner, which is eaten just before retiring to bed. Leukadia began cooking the beans, which take hours to cook. While the beans cooked, we scrubbed dishes from the previous evening's meal, cleaned the floor of the house, visited the general store for more sugar and rice, ventured down the mountain to fetch water, and then returned to the house. Tasks that would take mere minutes in the US were time-consuming projects in the village. Because these tasks were new to me, I was not of much assistance to Leukadia. The girl worked tirelessly to complete the tasks of the day. I asked her if she was ever tired after her day at school, which had begun at 7am, to which she only responded "sometimes". Her work ethic was amazing to me, who would have craved a long nap after a long day at school and a brisk hike back to the village.
The sun rises and sets around 6am and 6pm each day. Before we knew it, it was dark outside, and even darker inside the house. A single oil lantern was our light source, along with a headlamp from my backpack. Leukadia's roommates were gone for the evening; they had returned to Madisi for an evening study group, taking advantage of the electricity provided by the gas generators that run in the evening. The two of us ate a tasty dinner of ugali with cooked greens(called chineese) and tomatoes. After dinner, I was ready to fall into bed, but Leukadia was just settling in for a session of studying, so I decided to journal for a bit before bedtime.
It is typical for students to share beds; both pairs of roommates shared a twin mattress. I didn't realize the luxury I had of sleeping on my own thin twin mattress. We laid my mattress in the middle multi-purpose room, and I settled in for the night. It is the end of winter in Tanzania right now, and the temperature was in the forties when I climbed under my blanket and prayer shawl. To stay warm, the girls build small wood fires in their rooms and keep them burning throughout the night. These fires made the house quite smoky and I feared we would all be victims of carbon monoxide poisoning.
Night sounds in a hut in rural Tanzania include chickens that crow anytime they please, dog fights, fires crackling, and of course, rats scurrying, digging, and dropping various objects from the ceiling. I took some solace in the fact that I was of little or no interest to the rats, and tried to sleep. I awoke in the middle of the night having to use the restroom, and here is my most courageous moment of the journey: getting up among the rats in the hut, venturing outside in the moonlight to the outhouse, and finding my way back to the hut and onto my mattress. It did require much courage and praying.
Morning came quickly and before I knew it, we were getting up, having a quick glass of Tanzanian tea(world reknown) and hiking back to Madisi.
Ian and Musa:
Soon after I watched Amy walk one direction, I was on my way in another. "How far is it to your house?" I asked Musa.
"Umm...one half hour?" Musa replied.
I had a suspicion that our concepts of time may vary.
"What kind of animals do you have here?" I asked as we started our first ascent up a large mountain.
"Not many here" Musa replied, "but there are monkeys where I am from".
I assumed this to mean that like the student Amy was staying with, Musa was from a far away village but was living in a closer village to attend secondary school.
"No" Musa said, "where we are going is where the monkeys are. I live with my mother."
An hour and a half later, after a beautiful hike over the large hills in the highland forests of Tanzania we arrived at Musa's home. I met Musa's mother and sister (his father had past away two years earlier) and we set straight to work on cooking. After we ate our rice, beans and ugali (which is challenging because even though it is light outside it is still very dark in the hut), we set into the evening tasks of doing laundry, fetching water, feeding banana leaves to Musa's pig (each year, Musa raises a pig to sell so he can pay his tuition) and most importantly, preparing dinner (rice and beans again).
The sun went down around 6pm and Musa set into his evening studies. I sat and watched as Musa worked hard on some extremely advanced Calculus homework. I was amazed at how determined Musa was in his studies. He was thankful for the opportunity to be spending four hours every evening doing homework! He truly valued the education he was getting. It was not until late in my college experience that I valued my education and to this day have bad memories of the few nights that I had to stay up late studying. The opportunity to be educated is Musa's hope for a better future for himself and his family. So much so that he was willing to study for four hours every night and walk over three hours a day in order to get it.
This next part of the story is a little harder to tell. To make a long story short, after a few hours of anxiety, panic and no sleep I woke Musa and he graciously escorted me all the way back to the school in the middle of the night. Please feel free to ask me and I will be able to give you a more descriptive explanation of my feelings at this point in the trip.
After training at the school the next day(Wednesday), Musa came and found me and we began the hike back to Musa's home. This time with camera in hand: Musa's hand. He was so excited to take pictures (116 of them to be exact!) That evening, we trekked all over the countryside taking pictures of everything Musa could think of. His primary school, church, two of his older sisters houses, his uncles house and anything else along the way Musa could find to take a picture of.
My time during the day with Musa, though short, was a joyful and a wonderful experience. I was sad to have to leave so soon but I was in great need of sleep and rest from the anxiety that I was experiencing at night.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
On the road again....
We are into our fifth day of traveling and very ready for some kind of routine. This variety of schedules everyday is what breeds our nervousness and anxiety. So much is changing so quickly that we are struggling to find something solid to hold onto. Nights are long, days a bit easier. Our souls are exhausted, please send us peace and energy.
While we were in London, we ventured outside the airport and took the underground to Hyde Park, London's central park. With our carry-ons in tow, we forged to the park and ate lunch from a vendor and enjoyed an hour or so at a steel orchestra festival. Fabulous music, all steeldrums with amazing shows. We both agreed that we could explore Londona bit more sometime, although we'll have to save up before we do: two rail tickets and lunch cost $50!
We met up with the rest of our group in London and flew to Dar. We are enjoying our fellow teachers very much, a variety of personalities!
Upon arrival in Dar, we bypassed immigration and customs without a glitch and were met by Janerose, a volunteer of VST (Village Schools Tanzania), and our host these last few days. Loading buses, we drove to our guest house, similar to a hostel, in Dar for the afternoon and evening. Spent most of the day eating and then sleeping. Monday morning, we loaded a tour bus for a 7 hour driveto Mafinga. Our seven hour drive took 13 hours, and included a broken bus axle-which was somehow repaired by a wrench and a chain... Our butts are tired of being in the seated position, that is for sure!
The bus ride was a cultural experience, many different people getting on and off the bus at various stops. While were at a stop, although no one got off the bus, venders with all varieties of products and food items, came up to the bus windows carrying boxes of goods. Passengers simply carried out their exchanges through the bus windows. We had only american dollars, and were hesitant to purchase any items anyway. While we both were sleeping, some of the other teachers saw giraffes and an elephant as we drove through the game reserve. Sleep took priority over wildlife I guess...
We settled into another guest house, the Flamingo guest house, in Mafinga last night. We both were struggling greatly last night, resulting in very little sleep and many tears. Please send extra prayers and angels, as tonight will be the first night we will be staying with separate host families, and the nights already seem much longer here.
After we complete this email, we are to go on a quick scavenger hunt at the Market here in Mafinga before we get on another, much smaller, bus for the two hour drive to the school in Madisi to begin our two-week training.
We miss everyone very much, but are trying to find comfort in knowing that you are with us in spirit.
With much love,
Ian and Amy
While we were in London, we ventured outside the airport and took the underground to Hyde Park, London's central park. With our carry-ons in tow, we forged to the park and ate lunch from a vendor and enjoyed an hour or so at a steel orchestra festival. Fabulous music, all steeldrums with amazing shows. We both agreed that we could explore Londona bit more sometime, although we'll have to save up before we do: two rail tickets and lunch cost $50!
We met up with the rest of our group in London and flew to Dar. We are enjoying our fellow teachers very much, a variety of personalities!
Upon arrival in Dar, we bypassed immigration and customs without a glitch and were met by Janerose, a volunteer of VST (Village Schools Tanzania), and our host these last few days. Loading buses, we drove to our guest house, similar to a hostel, in Dar for the afternoon and evening. Spent most of the day eating and then sleeping. Monday morning, we loaded a tour bus for a 7 hour driveto Mafinga. Our seven hour drive took 13 hours, and included a broken bus axle-which was somehow repaired by a wrench and a chain... Our butts are tired of being in the seated position, that is for sure!
The bus ride was a cultural experience, many different people getting on and off the bus at various stops. While were at a stop, although no one got off the bus, venders with all varieties of products and food items, came up to the bus windows carrying boxes of goods. Passengers simply carried out their exchanges through the bus windows. We had only american dollars, and were hesitant to purchase any items anyway. While we both were sleeping, some of the other teachers saw giraffes and an elephant as we drove through the game reserve. Sleep took priority over wildlife I guess...
We settled into another guest house, the Flamingo guest house, in Mafinga last night. We both were struggling greatly last night, resulting in very little sleep and many tears. Please send extra prayers and angels, as tonight will be the first night we will be staying with separate host families, and the nights already seem much longer here.
After we complete this email, we are to go on a quick scavenger hunt at the Market here in Mafinga before we get on another, much smaller, bus for the two hour drive to the school in Madisi to begin our two-week training.
We miss everyone very much, but are trying to find comfort in knowing that you are with us in spirit.
With much love,
Ian and Amy
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