Domestic violence - 12/6/2004
Last night, through the window, I heard a heated discussion between a man and a woman. In village living, the neighbor knows all. She was screaming and crying and he was talking loudly to her. I couldn’t understand, but it was clear that she was either accusing him or defending herself. Every now and then there was a thud, and her screams would heighten. A baby was wailing the whole time. It was just awful, and I prayed for them, but I barely knew what to pray for.
It has lead me to be thinking along these lines, “Why was I chosen to be born in a culture of education, where abuse is not acceptable and is illegal? Why was it me who was born in a family without fear of abuse? Why do I get to be a woman who doesn’t think about whether my husband will yell at me or hit me? Why me and not her?” I’m thankful, and so is Dusty, but our hearts are grieved for the women and the men here, who are raised believing that domestic abuse is not only normal, but to be expected.
And worse than that, we have heard that some women do not feel loved unless they are beaten! They have it so very backwards. Somehow they believe that if they are beaten every now and then, their husbands care about them and how they cook, where they have been, how they raise the kids, etc. If she cooks poorly for a few days without a comment from him or if he doesn’t eat at home for several meals, then she will assume he is eating from some other woman’s table, so his yelling at her or hitting her is an assurance that he’s not cheating, that he loves her.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
African Anecdotes Revisited - Death
Death remains a very common topic here in Tanzania because it is so frequent and common, which does not make the grief any less of course. After seven years of living here, we are still amazed at how often we hear of people dying, including children and babies. Malaria takes a big toll among adults and children alike.
10/27/04 - Death in this culture
Although many things have changed in these parts, some traditions remain and differ by tribe. For instance, men are buried lying on their right sides, women on their left sides; everyone is buried with their heads to the West. The right hand in Swahili is called the “hand of man” and the left is called the “hand of woman.” There is good death (dying from disease, natural causes) and bad death (dying from murder or accident). Men are mourned for 4 days because they are or can be the head of the family, and women for 3 days.
In some tribes family members of the deceased shave their heads entirely. When the hair regrows, the family members can stop thinking of their loss. People deemed crazy are not mourned. If a baby is born as a stillborn, there is no mourning period, and no one, including the mother, is allowed to cry because it may bring bad luck, and she can have another child. If her husband dies, a woman is encouraged to remarry after the 4 days but these days everyone is wary of AIDS so she isn’t required to marry again. The cemeteries are divided into about 6 spaces for people to be buried according to religion.
In the past, when a person died, he/she was wrapped in a fresh cow skin, and the mourners ate the meat from the cow. Now he/she is wrapped in white cloth and put in a coffin. Muslims are not buried in coffins, but their bodies cannot touch dirt, so they are covered with leaves, etc before the dirt covers them. In the past, if a chief died, they would bury a live servant with him because he still would need someone to serve him; the family of the servant would be financially reimbursed (or paid in cows, etc.). When twins or breech babies were born, they would be “thrown out” because they brought bad luck. Also, if a child’s top teeth grew in before the bottom teeth, they would be thrown out too for the same reasons. Most of these traditions ceased when understanding grew.
Dusty was just saying today that we hear of a lot more death here. Someone was hit on their motorcycle in town on Sunday and was decapitated. 2 of our teachers have had neighbors die since we have been here. And we heard lamenting wailing from the village through our windows when someone died there. Community life is so much stronger here that everyone still knows everyone else’s business. The average lifespan is much shorter here too. If a person gets cancer, chemo and radiation are not really choices because of the lack of money and health care. And of course AIDS is claiming so many. We haven’t seen anyone with visible AIDS yet, but we know many people who have lost family members that way.
10/27/04 - Death in this culture
Although many things have changed in these parts, some traditions remain and differ by tribe. For instance, men are buried lying on their right sides, women on their left sides; everyone is buried with their heads to the West. The right hand in Swahili is called the “hand of man” and the left is called the “hand of woman.” There is good death (dying from disease, natural causes) and bad death (dying from murder or accident). Men are mourned for 4 days because they are or can be the head of the family, and women for 3 days.
In some tribes family members of the deceased shave their heads entirely. When the hair regrows, the family members can stop thinking of their loss. People deemed crazy are not mourned. If a baby is born as a stillborn, there is no mourning period, and no one, including the mother, is allowed to cry because it may bring bad luck, and she can have another child. If her husband dies, a woman is encouraged to remarry after the 4 days but these days everyone is wary of AIDS so she isn’t required to marry again. The cemeteries are divided into about 6 spaces for people to be buried according to religion.
In the past, when a person died, he/she was wrapped in a fresh cow skin, and the mourners ate the meat from the cow. Now he/she is wrapped in white cloth and put in a coffin. Muslims are not buried in coffins, but their bodies cannot touch dirt, so they are covered with leaves, etc before the dirt covers them. In the past, if a chief died, they would bury a live servant with him because he still would need someone to serve him; the family of the servant would be financially reimbursed (or paid in cows, etc.). When twins or breech babies were born, they would be “thrown out” because they brought bad luck. Also, if a child’s top teeth grew in before the bottom teeth, they would be thrown out too for the same reasons. Most of these traditions ceased when understanding grew.
Dusty was just saying today that we hear of a lot more death here. Someone was hit on their motorcycle in town on Sunday and was decapitated. 2 of our teachers have had neighbors die since we have been here. And we heard lamenting wailing from the village through our windows when someone died there. Community life is so much stronger here that everyone still knows everyone else’s business. The average lifespan is much shorter here too. If a person gets cancer, chemo and radiation are not really choices because of the lack of money and health care. And of course AIDS is claiming so many. We haven’t seen anyone with visible AIDS yet, but we know many people who have lost family members that way.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
African Anecdotes #1: Church
In light of our leaving Tanzania and moving to Uganda, I am finding myself in a retrospective state of mind. Therefore I'm posting some of the original African Anecdotes that I began writing in 2004 before I began blogging.
A choir in a Masaai church we visited in Kenya in 2004
10/5/04 (written in Musoma during language school)Church
Life continues on here, and we visited our 4th TZ church this week. We have been to 8 services in East Africa so far including Anglican, Lutheran, Africa Inland Church, a Masai (tribe) church, and Baptist; some were urban and others were rural. The first hour of most of these services is focused on singing, prayer, and scripture reading; most services go for two hours or more, and only one had an optional Sunday School for adults.
Let me tell you, the choir is always the main attraction. The choirs here are a treat for both the ears and eyes. They have no robes, but they have a combination of dancing and signing that is very engaging. It seems that each song has a different set of hand signs and foot movements to follow, and no one ever screws up. They harmonize their voices, but unfortunately, I can’t always appreciate that because the music team (electric guitars, bass, drum, and/or synthesizer) plays loudly and not very well.
Churches usually take at least 2 offerings, so we always split what we will give in three groups, both for me and Dusty, so that we can participate in 100% of the offerings. We have yet to figure out the reasoning on multiple offerings. Everyone walks single file to the basket at the front of the church and donates while the choir sings. Someone always announces the attendance and offering amounts of the former week, and one time it was announced that the women gave more than the men, and all the women cheered and clapped in an otherwise very liturgical service. We have been to 2 services where vegetables and fruit were auctioned off among the congregation to raise funds too.
Sometimes laypeople give the sermons, and it is not uncommon for a woman to preach. We never know how long the sermon will be, but it feels very long. Sometimes I just pray quietly when my brain tires of listening for words I recognize. Women (in general) sit on the left side of the church, and men on the right, but everyone expects foreigners to sit together, which is nice for us. Kids usually sit in front, and behave very well, considering that they are there for 2 hours! The pews are always wood with or without backs on them. We are always asked to stand and introduce ourselves as guests, and we usually stumble through some pathetic Swahili sentences, but everyone is gracious and pleased in spite of our tripping tongues. At the end of the service while we are singing, the first person out (pastor) shakes hands with the next person out, and so on, so that we shake hands with every person in the church and exchange greetings. The kids do a little curtsy thing to us, and they have a different verbal greeting too.
Jack in "Sunday School" outside our church in Musoma where we still worship. The pastor's house is in the background. The kids play under this mango tree.
A choir in a Masaai church we visited in Kenya in 200410/5/04 (written in Musoma during language school)Church
Life continues on here, and we visited our 4th TZ church this week. We have been to 8 services in East Africa so far including Anglican, Lutheran, Africa Inland Church, a Masai (tribe) church, and Baptist; some were urban and others were rural. The first hour of most of these services is focused on singing, prayer, and scripture reading; most services go for two hours or more, and only one had an optional Sunday School for adults.
Let me tell you, the choir is always the main attraction. The choirs here are a treat for both the ears and eyes. They have no robes, but they have a combination of dancing and signing that is very engaging. It seems that each song has a different set of hand signs and foot movements to follow, and no one ever screws up. They harmonize their voices, but unfortunately, I can’t always appreciate that because the music team (electric guitars, bass, drum, and/or synthesizer) plays loudly and not very well.
Churches usually take at least 2 offerings, so we always split what we will give in three groups, both for me and Dusty, so that we can participate in 100% of the offerings. We have yet to figure out the reasoning on multiple offerings. Everyone walks single file to the basket at the front of the church and donates while the choir sings. Someone always announces the attendance and offering amounts of the former week, and one time it was announced that the women gave more than the men, and all the women cheered and clapped in an otherwise very liturgical service. We have been to 2 services where vegetables and fruit were auctioned off among the congregation to raise funds too.
Sometimes laypeople give the sermons, and it is not uncommon for a woman to preach. We never know how long the sermon will be, but it feels very long. Sometimes I just pray quietly when my brain tires of listening for words I recognize. Women (in general) sit on the left side of the church, and men on the right, but everyone expects foreigners to sit together, which is nice for us. Kids usually sit in front, and behave very well, considering that they are there for 2 hours! The pews are always wood with or without backs on them. We are always asked to stand and introduce ourselves as guests, and we usually stumble through some pathetic Swahili sentences, but everyone is gracious and pleased in spite of our tripping tongues. At the end of the service while we are singing, the first person out (pastor) shakes hands with the next person out, and so on, so that we shake hands with every person in the church and exchange greetings. The kids do a little curtsy thing to us, and they have a different verbal greeting too.
Jack in "Sunday School" outside our church in Musoma where we still worship. The pastor's house is in the background. The kids play under this mango tree.
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