Sisterhood

February 8, 2018, Thursday

Because today was a Thursday on which my women’s group met, I got up a bit earlier than usual and was ready to go by the time Ray arrived at 8:45. he always takes me to the  Impala Hotel, the pick up point for those of us who do not have cars to drive to our meetings. Usually, I I stay within the perimeters of propriety of dress for a woman of my age and wear a fairly long skirt and nondescript top. This morning, however, I decided to wear a pair of trousers. Trousers are not forbidden, but more traditional Tanzanian women avoid them. Since I stray to the more liberal edge of our discussions, I thought the women would accept my trousers as something I might be expected to wear.

I was surprised to find Grace, Martha, and Atula also waiting at the Impala. Deborah was picking us up, so the four of us would fit well in her vehicle even though she showed up in the red pickup instead of the usual Land Rover. However, we also had to drive to Miriam’s house to get her as well. They all insisted I sit in front with Deborah, while the four of them squeezed into the back seat. Except for Atula and Grace, these woman are not thin!  We were all settled and laughing about our situation as we drove out of the city center. Suddenly, the women in the back yelled, “Stop! Stop”!  There was Mary at the side of the road, waiting to be picked up, too. So, we jerked to a halt, and did a modified Chinese fire drill, in which Atula climbed into the front with Deborah and me, and Mary took her place in back. Now there were 7 of us crammed into a relatively small cabin. Some of the women wanted to ride in the back of the pickup, but that’s forbidden in town. As it was, we were likely to get stopped and fined if any police noticed how many we were.  We soon arrived at a police stop, but kept going and slipped by while they were distracted with a dalla-dalla (taxi van). Whew!

Our destination was a place called “Scripture House,” which seems to be a Danish mission. I am not sure what they do, but their houses and office are in a big compound out toward Moshi. As usual, once we left the highway, the roads were incredibly rough dirt tracks with no names or signs. Fortunately, a couple of the women had been to this place before, so we only went the wrong way once.

When we emerged from the pickup, everyone inhaled and shook themselves like cats after a bath. It was only then that I noticed that Grace and Atula were wearing very stylish tight jeans. So, my concern about wearing trousers seemed unfounded. Except that they are very slim and trim, and I am not. Grace, in particular, looked marvelous. I had my camera along, but didn’t take any photos.)

Ruth, who is Danish, was our hostess, and her house was very typical in it’s layout, but far more spare in furnishings and decorations than others I’ve been in. We all caught up on what had happened since our last meeting.  The saddest news was that a young Tanzanian member of ACC, Paul, who has led a very successful AA program at the church was hit by a boda-boda and was now in a coma and on a respirator. Of course, Martha (Mama Bishop) said that if we prayed he could be healed, to which Linda exclaimed, “No! His brain is dead.”  Martha has strayed a bit over into the Health and Wealth Gospel so popular in Africa now, so she believes that there are direct rewards in asking God for what one wants, even new cars and lots of money. Perhaps from her viewpoint being brain dead isn’t that much of a challenge.

Once we got past Paul’s plight, we continued our study of Exodus, which this time focused on the 10 commandments. I tried very hard to hold my thoughts to myself, but I did wonder aloud why no one seems to think we should be putting people to death for not keeping the Sabbath. No one else was ready to tackle that question, so we sailed right along until 11:30. Then it was time for prayer and lunch. Just before we got up to serve ourselves lunch, Linda tossed some pages of the study guide to me and told me I was the leader for next time. Then we’ll be covering the tabernacle and the golden calf. I overhead Mary tell Atula, “Well, we’ll definitely want to hear what she has to say about that,” and she sounded rather tongue-in-cheek to me.

Lunch was rice, pork and gravy, potato salad, cold green bean salad (superb!), watermelon slices, homemade buns, and for dessert warm cinnamon rolls. I really, really wanted to eat two of those, but restrained myself.

When it was finally time to leave, some women who had come with Deborah found room with Linda for their return, so we were a normal passenger load of 5 for the ride back to town. I could always spend at least another hour with these women, who have so much knowledge I don’t. When I am dropped at the Impala, I am jealous of those who get to ride together a bit further.

Oh, not only do I have to figure out something not too disturbing to say about the tabernacle and golden calf at our next meeting, I also have to prepare to host the group here at Kundayo on March 8.