On this day, forty-five years ago, we brought home our daughter, Rebecca Suzanne. She was just over three months old and very tiny for that age. She had intensely blue eyes and watched us very carefully at first. Then, she settled in and became a little princess, the first granddaughter on both sides of our family. How quickly the years have passed since then. Now, she has her own daughter, our first grandchild. But, I’ll never forget a minute of that “homecoming day,” when I got all dressed up in a new dress someone had sewn for me, and John and I, and my mother, who had come from Indiana for the occasion, went to The Cradle in Evanston, Illinois. We walked in as a couple, and walked out as parents. It was an amazing day.
And, here all these years later we are in Arusha, Tanzania, finishing up our annual stay from January into March. In only three more days we’ll fly back to Spokane, and I feel so unready for the return to life in the U.S. We’ve begun some sorting and packing, but a lot of that will have to wait until much nearer our departure. We’ll leave a large box with clothing and kitchen items we which we use only here with Mazo, as we did last year. That cuts out an extra suitcase for us when we fly. And, I’ve begun to give away items,especially books, that I don’t need anymore. This should allow room for packing home the few souvenirs and gifts I have bought, plus 2 kg, of coffee beans from Kitamu.
In the morning, the director of Nariva Academy, the school which Goodluck attends, came by to meet and visit with us. Ray had wanted him to meet with us because getting out to visit Goodluck’s school would be very difficult for us. We would have to drive through Arusha National Park and pay an entry fee of $30 each and a vehicle fee of $20. To drive around the park would more than double the distance, most of which would be on very bad road. So, the director, Lepilal Lairser, came to tell us about the school and comment on Goodluck’s progress. I was very pleased with both reports. The school is only elementary up to the 7th year, and relatively new, yet its students score very high on their exams. As a boarding school, the faculty can control and supervise study time and homework in a way that cannot be done at the day schools here in Arusha. This seems to be a good environment for Goodluck, whom I have always though of as being more Good Time than studious. However, according to Mr. Lairser, Goodluck is doing well in his classes, especially science and math.
When I asked Mr. Lairser about his own educational background, he told us a remarkable story of growing up as a traditional Masai child whose father saw education as useless and would not allow him to attend school. So, he appealed to the elders, who told the father to let Lepilal attend school and see if he was any good. Well, he was very good and scored high enough on exams to earn a scholarship. The father was not ready to lose a cattle harder, so again Lepilal appealed to the elders, who again backed him. This continued year after year until he was ready to enter college. By that time he had left his father’s boma and was living with an uncle, but the elders told his father that he had to sell some cattle to pay for college. Eventually, Lepilal graduated, got a teaching job at a very good private school here in Arusha, and was able to give his father very impressive gifts. When the father saw the reward of all the years of education, he declared that Lepilal was his only real son. This parallels my friend Elizabeth’s story in so many ways. Only very recently have Masai parents begun to see the value of an education, and there are still many children who do not get to attend any school at all. The fathers need them home to herd the goats and cattle.
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| Ray and I with Mr. Lairser |
After Mr. Lairser and Ray left, we began to assemble some lunch. Naturally, we are doing our best to use up any produce or groceries we have on hand. I had everything figured out so that even the leftovers would come out just right at dinner on Monday. So, just as John was heating up leftover eggplant stew and rice, there was a knock on our door. There stood Emanuel, on of the staff, with two large lidded casseroles that Mama had sent us. When John opened the one casserole an incredibly delicious aroma came out. It was lamb stew, and in the other casserole were potatoes. We each took a taste of the stew and then set the food aside to use for dinner. Then, there was another knock. It was Sidney delivering a bottle of wine from Mama, too.
In the afternoon, it rained and rained and rained some more. This is the wettest March I have ever seen here, and I hope it is a very rare anomaly. I spent most of my time going over the talk I was preparing for church on Sunday. Eventually, John heated up Mama’s lamb stew, and we ate dinner out on the terrace even though the world was wet and cool. The stew was amazing! The absolute best I have ever eaten. So delicious that both John and I talked about licking the serving dish after we had eaten absolutely every bite. That Mama is a treasure.
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