“It takes a village to bring up a child.”
The trip continues to unfold. Still having the ‘oh my god, we’re in Africa!’ moments. We woke to a brilliant, clear sky and the
bustle of Iringa preparing to host the president of the country. Our hosts at the Lutheran guest house were
still cheerful and gracious after staying late last night to be sure we got
dinner… Muhammad took us into town to shop.
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| Mama Toni shopping for team meals. |
Going with Mama Toni as she went to the market for food and then eating in Pommern was the high light. The
covered market was a beautiful display of color in the form of fresh fruit,
vegetable, legumes and spices – everything piled high with the vendors in their
own colorful outfits often sitting atop the display and doing business from
there. Mama Joni made her way
confidently thru the thing. She carefully
selected her items, then left them to be packaged up and collected later.
We, her ducklings, tried to keep up but often
wandered away only to catch up with her later.
The presidential visit stalled our departure from town a little. By
around 3 PM we left but not before visiting a gift shop called Neema, I think. The items are made and the shop is run by
disabled people. I know Edward probably
feels like he’s trying to herd cats when he dares to let us out anywhere. There were pretty cool items there - We shall
return. The drive to Pommern was
beautiful starting with a panoramic view of Iringa as we departed. We followed dirt roads that seemed to get
deeper red the further we moved away from Iringa. The houses were fewer. The goats, cows, and chickens had as much
right to the road as vehicles and were often escorted by a child or adult
herding them along. Muhammad does an expert
job of weaving through all this without killing anything. People were all busy with the business of
living – sitting under trees, children playing, adults talking, women washing,
men making furniture, people of all ages walking with heavy loads balanced on
their heads or toting large, cumbersome loads on their bikes, boys swimming in
the rivers. And then the village of
Pommern was down a red tree lined road.
Our old 1899 mission house awaited us –
a romantic old European style building with a veranda all around it. The van was unpacked, and we were shown our
rooms. Jackson, a boy of about 9 or so,
introduced himself and his younger brother Frank, about 4. “Hello, what’s your name?” He asked in
perfect English. As we were leaving for
a walk we found Mama Toni cooking for us in the dark – using only a small
flashlight between her teeth when she really needed light – softly moving
around her kitchen – calm and sure of her work.
Wow! It was a lovely meal of fried
banana, noodles, fish in a tasty broth, and a banana for dessert. So far Edward, Muhammad and Mama Toni are the
village that has cared for us with generosity and kindness. We hope soon to be able to do something for
them.
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