Cooking with Mama Merica.

Today we got to go to town and cook a lot of food with a lady named... well, I thought her name was Mama Merica, but then other people called her different things. So, instead I will just refer to her as Mama.

The day started with something that I hope to never experience again.
De-heading fish that are mostly dried but sometimes slimy is gross.
These are degaa heads. Gross. They smell TERRIBLE.

Kelcy was super excited to work with the fish. Not really. At this point, we were a little concerned that our hands would smell like fish for the rest of the day, but then we proceeded to cut sweet potatoes, garlic, and onions, so all of the smells kind of mixed together. 

This lady was awesome. We had no idea what she was saying ever, but she would joke around with us like any body else. It was great.

It was great that the ladies really let us help work with them. Kelcy got to stir... meat? and add all the onions and pepper that we had previously cut.

I am terrible at everything that comes to African cooking, apparently. The way I was supposed to mix the rice and throw it around was tough. Whatever. Haha. 

All in all, it was a great day. We had fun helping, and the attention that 3 mzungu (white people) received in the market was certainly good publicity for her business. 

Tomorrow we leave for our 8 day survey trip to the south of Tanzania. When people say something like "the south of France" you think something really luxurious. Not the case here. 

The trip will be over 15 hours each way, hopefully on a few paved roads. We are looking forward to driving through a national park however, mostly because we have been promised seeing at least a few wild animals. On survey we will be interviewing church leaders and investigating the area so that possible missionaries in the future will have something to take into consideration about the area.

When we get back from survey we will have 3 nights and then head to Mwanza to go on Safari. after safari, we go back home. CRAZY. Home is so close now, but Africa is now so important to us all. Going back will be great, but I am certainly going to miss it here!

All of your prayers would be great, because we will be spending a lot of time traveling these next few weeks!

Crying in an Outhouse: My African Bonding Experience.

Mwakiwasha Village is what you think of when someone says Africa.

I lived with them for a weekend of my life, and during that weekend I experienced a list of emotions that seem so contradictory until you live them. It was awesome, hard, rewarding, lonely, eye opening, and full to the max of rice.

When Brett dropped us off on Friday morning with two water bottles, some kilos of rice, and a mosquito net, we didn't really know what was coming. We knew that we would each live with a different family, and we were to work along side them, eat meals with them, and try to be a part of their lives.

That task wouldn't have been easy in the states, where different family habits might be weird to overcome. In Tanzania, when your new family speaks Swahili, you are even farther separated. You can't adequately explain that you want to help them cook, or figure out how to tell them for the thousandth time that you are fine just sitting on the ground with the kids.

How was I going to relate to a family of 9 that lives in a house smaller than my apartment? Do I try to understand what it feels like to live on a meal of rice every single day? What can I find that we have in common?

Well I can say on this side of the weekend that it was hard. But wonderful. I didn't wear a watch and I tried my hardest to not think about the time that was ticking by ever so slowly.

I loved playing with the children and helping Mama Mateo to do the dishes. I somewhat enjoyed sharing a very small bed with two children every night, and I hated eating rice. I missed being able to speak English to anyone who understood me, and I did in fact tear up in the choo (the Swahili word for bathroom). But then I remembered something incredibly important.

I am in Africa with a family who has welcomed me into their home with open arms. Their hospitality when they had so little showed me how I should act towards others when in comparison I have so much.

And now the part that you have certainly been waiting for, the pictures.

Our life, lately.

Well there is nothing like pig slaughtering to share again, but in the last week:

• we learned about some of the work going on in Geita region that other groups are doing. We went to a place called Nelico, where there is an orphanage and community outreach for things like child labor laws and family planning. Although Nelico isn't a religious organization, they told us how the work of Christians encourages them to keep doing what they are working towards. 
• On Friday the interns went with Alicia Groen to buy fabric and kaangas. Kangaas are a type of wrap around skirt that are a life saver when you are just so tired of wearing skirts. We then took all of our material (a considerable amount when you consider that only four of us were making purchases) to a lady named Suzie who will make them into purses and wallets and things like that. I think she may also be making Bryan a hat, which I am sure we will photograph as soon as possible. 
• Saturday was spent at the gold mine, with the Intern Babysitting night to follow. 
• We went to church with Calvin Groen at a new church plant here in Geita on Sunday. There were only about a dozen Tanzanians there, but their excitement about the forming church is an encouragement to the team here. 
• Monday was the day for our intern team to really get our feet wet and practice our Swahili. We walked into town where we (painfully) tried to order our own meals at a small restaurant, and then headed to the market to buy all of the food we would need to make dinner for ourselves and our missionary hosts. The highlight of the day was riding motorcycle taxis back up the hill to our houses, even though Kelcy and I thought we were for sure lost. Don't worry- we made it back safely, and our chicken tetrazini was delicious. 
• Yesterday was spent in Makiwasha village, where we got to see the church building they are working on, as well as building a stove for our friend Yohanna.

This coming weekend the interns will be split up and we will each be bonding with a family in one of the villages. I think we are all really excited, but I am at least really nervous. 

I know we are all getting to the point where we miss home, so your prayers would be appreciated, and emails with news of our lives back home are also nice to read. We love you guys!

This is the story of a pig.

Imagine the title sang like "(Absolutely) Story of a Girl" by Nine Days.

Or imagine that this blog is titled "Slaughterhouse Five".

Or you can think that this is a sequel to the children's movies about a pig: "Babe III: Babe's Final Hours"

Whatever you chose in the way of naming this post, be warned: these pictures are not to be taken lightly... They may make you nauseous, you may want to call PETA on us. Whatever. We are in Africa. Come get us.

This is the story of Babe the Pig, and the process of us turning her into some tasty ribs and pulled pork.

She just didn't think it was her time to go yet. Our friends with the rope and machete thought differently, however.

If you can't tell, that machete is in the pigs neck. It was quick and painless, I promise.

Moderately terrifying, but Brett handled it like a pro.

Bryan was sure to not lose his head. See what I did there?

 Severine, the pig killer. Yeah, his name is actually Severine.

After we shaved the pig, it was time to get down to business.

 We had to make sure to keep the intestines intact so we could make sausage.

Bry-man cleaning out the future sausage casings.

Kelcy was really enjoying herself, obviously.

 I believe that was a horrible mixture of ground meat and fat that tasted DELICIOUS. This picture was also necessary to show that I didn't just take pictures of the whole process, I actually did some work.

 Shoving ground meat into intestines. YUM.

 One of the finished products.

Very happy and full girls.

The 4th of July didn't have fireworks or a parade, but it was a day of Bocce Ball, Pictionary, and drinking a lot of CocaCola Light. Our Geita team may not live in the US, but we ate tons of meat and spent time together, just like any good Americans would.