Goat and Rice

The four of us, along with Kevin, made a 120-kilometer journey to visit a couple of village churches. I cannot explain how far out in the bush we ended up. Just imagine driving out into the middle of nowhere as far as possible and then driving another hour. On the way to the village, we stopped by a small church, led the service, then left. A few more kilometers down the trail we came across a woman with a terrible second degree burn on her hand. In Zambia, a woman would gladly allow us to scrub her hand to clean it; however, the threshold of pain here in Tanzania must be much less. The woman did not want us to even touch her hand, she just wanted some medicine to put in it. If she would not let us clean her hand, Tanner's first-aid ointment would be no better than soapy water; so we left her there with some ibuprofen. I will never forget the unbelievable tolerance the Zambians had for pain. Sometimes I would clean a wound that had to be excruciatingly painful, but they would simply take the pain without squinting. On our way back, we found out the woman visited the nearest clinic so Kevin gave her some shillings to help cover the costs.

When we eventually arrived at the small congregation known as Mwanaluku, I gave my second lesson of the day. I spoke about persevering and not letting people, alcohol, or witchcraft stand in the way. I tried to use illustrations that would make since to them, like hills and bikes. My name was recorded in the church's small notebook. Kevin jokingly informed me that praise songs will be sung using my words and several children may be named Kelsey in the future.

The Sukuma people are extremely hospitable and treated us like honored guests. Our presence gave them and excuse for a 48-hour celebration. Two goats were slaughtered for us and we were given more than enough to eat. Each time we sat to eat there would be a huge pile of rice and goat before us. Our second meal of goat was quite a shock. As we sat in the pitch black room, I knew I smelt something funny in the rice. I decided it would be best to not know and just kept eating (if one does not eat all of their food, it is not wasted because the children will eat it. However, Africans will sometimes be offended if you do not finish). My appetite completely vanished as I bit into something with hair in it. I made the mistake of smelling my fingers, which were stained with the scent of dirty intestines. At this point, we were all suspicious since we could only identify a few pieces in the dark. Q pulled out his flashlight, which was a big mistake. Trey and I found a few things in the bowl that we still are not able to identify. All I know is that one piece was just skin with hair that resembled a black wig. I just told myself it was part of the tail and did work. I never thought I would be relieved to get to the goat testicles. Aside from the organs, the meat was wonderful. Mom, please no rice for a while!

Anytime we were standing, the village people would immediately bring us their wooden chairs to sit on. At one point they were nervous that Tanner was sitting on a rock and made him sit in the chair. The chairs were quite uncomfortable, but they made sure we were never standing. They also insisted that we each bathe.

I will never forget the Sukuma people and their way of life. Hopefully this will not be my last visit to Tanzania, and I will one day sing and dance with the Sukuma people again. I look forward to seeing you all soon.