Pizza

February 4, 2018, Sunday

It seems repetitious for me to comment again on how much we look forward to Sundays. Going to ACC and being with our friends there is always invigorating and usually very interesting. This Sunday, our socializing was somewhat hampered by the fact that after the service the congregation was holding its annual general meeting with reports from last year and elections of new officers, etc. Since this group has no paid clergy, they give away at least 50% of their offering money to groups which offer youth programs, health services, educational opportunities, etc.  That’s in comparison with the average American church which gives only 2% of its money to anything but operating itself. ACC’s giving is part of what is discussed at the AGM.

The Sunday bouquet

The musicians

We were invited to stay for the meeting and the lunch afterwards, but we opted to take a taxi to the Kijenge neighborhood and have lunch at Picasso’s. (Those of you who were  here for the 2012 semester study program will know exactly where this is.) It’s a nice restaurant long known for its pizza, and I discovered that now it also offers  wonderful, big salads. I can’t remember the name of the salad I ordered, but it was delicious with crisp greens, thin cucumber slices, sliced tomatoes, green olives, cashews, and tasty glazed pieces of chicken. John got a hamburger which he said was excellent as well. I definitely will want to return to try some of the other salads on the menu.

After lunch, we returned to Kundayo to rest up for our evening activities. Our friends, Eric and Bernice Rowberg, had built a big outdoor pizza oven and invited us to their home for a pizza extravaganza. I was concerned about finding our way there since roads usually don’t have signs or markings, but the taxi driver (not Ray) knew where one of the landmarks was, and once we found that, John knew the rest of the way. The dirt roads were incredibly rutted, so the taxi driver barely crawled along up the hill to Eric’s house. I guess there’s more than one reason Eric rides his bike to work.

Eric owns and operates a big internet service for businesses and is a true savant of many talents. Last year, we toured his brick factory, which naturally is where he got the bricks to build his pizza oven. He also designed and built their house, which while quite modest, and compact is also very pleasing and peaceful.  We were outside on the veranda for the evening, however.

Eric and his pizza oven

There were a few other guests. One was the publisher/editor of the regional newspaper, The Arusha Times, which is currently on hiatus due to financial problems. That may be just as well since the government has closed down papers it feels are critical. Then, they was a delightful younger couple, Rob and Anya, and their two-year-old daughter, Seepie (sp?). Rob is Tanzanian (His mother was Datoga) and Anya is German. They operate a tour business, so we had some good conversations about  tourist trends, Tanzanian economics, sustainability, and fair labor practices.

Newspaper publisher and John

All the while, Rob and Eric were assembling 9” pizzas and baking them one after the other. Eric claimed that it only took 90 seconds to bake each crust perfectly. I know that it did not take long for us to eat the dozen or so pizzas they made. There were even dessert pizzas with bananas and pineapple. William, Rob and Anya were drinking beer; Bernice and John were drinking juice; and Eric and I drank red wine.  I don’t know if it was the shiraz merlot we had brought, but it was good.

Making our pizzas

Finished product

What I fascinated me most was how Seepie shifted among languages. She and Anya communicated in German; she spoke to us in English; and she used both English and Swahili with her father, Eric, and Bernice. There was never the slightest hesitation in her speaking with any of us. I should have taken Seepie’s photo since she reminded me so much of Rebecca when she was exactly the same age and lived in the Congo with us. Prior to the Congo, when we lived in Brussels for several months, Becca seemed perfectly able to understand what others at our pension said to her in French. Then, in the Congo, she would tell us what her older playmate, Kalele, told her in Ciinkanyok. Think how wonderful it would be if that very early door to language could be kept open forever.

Close to 9:00, we decided it was time to get back to Kundayo. Our taxi driver had waited  nearby for us the whole time—who would ever want to drive back and forth more than absolutely necessary on that road?— so we made our farewells and were back at Kundayo in less than half an hour. I really hope we’ll have an opportunity to spend more time with Rob and Anya while we are here, as they are some of the best informed about what is currently going on with parks and reserves. Plus, Seepie is extremely cute.