We had originally planned on staying about eight days, but kept putting off our departure because we were waiting to receive our resident permits for Tanzania. We were hoping to have them before going back to Tanzania so that we wouldn’t have to pay an additional $300 for visas when the resident permits that we paid $420 for were supposed to be ready. Anyhow, we waited an extra day, then two, then three. Finally we had waited an extra four days and decided to call it quits and just pay the extra money. We really needed to get back home and Jon needed to get back to teach class on Thursday (and it was now Sunday). So we decided to go to Calvary Chapel Nairobi for a second Sunday, and then leave after service.
Just before service, the team all gathered together to pray and I joined them. Dave was telling everyone some things to pray for and making some quick announcements. He mentioned to me that he would like me to lead the “prayer for the nations” time they have each Sunday morning by sharing what was going on in Kigoma and what they could all pray for us for. Then he mentioned that that Sunday afternoon was the monthly “Freedom in Christ” concert that they did at the church, and that he was expecting me to preach the Gospel at it! I said “wewe” (which is Swahili for “you”) but you say it like you, as in “you dirty dog”. I told him I’d pray about it. Then, during service I shared about Kigoma and we all prayed, and then Dave announced about the FIC concert that night and told the whole congregation to pray that I would stay and speak at it! WEWE!
Well, I knew that we could leave Monday and still make it back to Kigoma before Thursday (God willing), and I couldn’t think of anything else that was pressing for that day. So I explained to Dave that I had a policy of never turning down the opportunity to share the Gospel or otherwise be used for ministry unless God and I had a previous commitment that needed to be kept or He specifically told me not to do it. And since neither of those were the case I agreed to stay and do it and then leave the next morning.
So during lunch Dave told me about the concert. Then we ate and took our families home and then headed over to the church for the concert. There were already a bunch of kids there when we arrived. The church staff that helped to run the concert was already there and had Christian music playing through the speakers – one of them pointed inside the church, and the other pointed towards the street and parking lot. It was really good music that I hadn’t heard before (and I’m relatively aware of the Christian music scene) from the hip-hop and rap genres, and it was all African. I really liked it and hope to get my hands on some of it (Dave – if you’re reading this remember that the DJ was going to hook me up). We went upstairs and joined in the fun.
Basically the concert went like this… There was music playing and people talking and dancing and generally hanging out. This is a “youth concert” that everyone is invited to (here, youth means “old enough to walk” to thirties or so. Basically unmarried is the rule of thumb). They pass out flyers all over and invite other churches as well. Anyhow, at first about two or three hundred kids were milling around talking and listening to the DJ’s music mix. Then they started off with prayer, followed by some Bible trivia questions. One of the leaders at CC Nairobi would ask a Bible Trivia question and choose someone who raised their hand to come up onto the stage to answer it. If they got it correct they would get a prize (usually a soda or a Bible). After a few questions, they would have a performer or performers up to the stage. All of the performers were either singing or dancing or both. THEY WERE QUITE TALENTED. In order to be allowed to perform, the performers had to have been involved in the church services for the past weeks (Sunday mornings, youth services, etc.) These kids were really great. Most of them sang songs to tracks that they created and burned, or they sang over the top of tracks they recorded. In either case, the material was original. Those who got up and danced did so to cool, modern Christian hip-hop songs or the like and the dances were somehow interpretive or representative of the lyrics of the song. Anyhow… they were really good and this big old white boy got his groove on!
About mid-way through the concert I went up on stage to give the gospel. It was a learning experience for me. I’ve given the gospel many times before, and I’ve spoken to youth before. But I had never given the gospel to over five hundred “youth” IN AFRICA. You see the kids here aren’t as disciplined as a westerner is used to. They tend to talk and move about and generally do just about anything they feel like while someone else is talking. So, with the older youth sitting quietly in the back staring me down with icy glares, and the youngsters all moving about and talking and being generally noisy, I began to speak. God gave me the right words, the right mix of English and Swahili, and the right mix of funny and serious, and in the end those who God was speaking to heard what they needed to hear and prayed along with me for the ‘Freedom In Christ’ that comes with a right relationship with Him. It was such a great time. I’m really looking forward to working with some locals here in Kigoma to do something similar for the youth of Kigoma every month.
After the concert we cleaned up and went back to the guest house and packed. The next morning we had one last dose of Java House and then hit the road for home.
Just outside of Nairobi, as we began to head down the escarpment and into the Great Rift Valley, we stopped at a curio shop to have a look. As I walked inside I realized that the pieces of wood I was standing on were suspended over the edge of the escarpment. Yikes!
The Roadside Curio Shop overlooking the Great Rift Valley
The View from the EdgeAfter the little detour, we retraced our path and made it to Kisii at sunset. We took a few snapshots of the sunset, but they were from the car while driving so they’re not up to par for my taste, but we’ll share a couple of them anyways.
The sun beginning to go down over the lush grasses, cane fields, and trees near Kisii, Kenya
Sunset over the sugar cane around Kisii, Kenya
The next morning I went to a local “Internet Café” to check the email. I was still hoping to find an email with a PDF of our resident permits for Tanzania. I did not. I called my friend in Kigoma to see if he had the papers and he said he was on the way to pick them up from the Home Affairs office. So we left Kisii and headed for the border crossing at Sirari, planning to stop in Migori to check the email once again. We reached Migori, and still no email, no text message, no phone calls, no nothing. I had had enough of the African waiting game and took off for the border, papers or no papers.
We got to the border and “checked out” of Kenya. It was then that I decided to call our friend in Kigoma one last time to see if he had the papers and could fax them to the border. He told me that he went to the Home Affairs office in Kigoma to pick them up and they told him that the papers “missed the plane”. That meant they wouldn’t arrive in Kigoma until the next day. Oh well!
I got in the car and proceeded through the gate that officially separates the two countries and pulled into the parking area of the Tanzania Immigration office. I told Carrie the situation and asked that they all pray. I was going in to see if God would grant us favor with the officials and let us cross without paying so that we could save the $300.
I was in silent prayer as I entered the air conditioned little border building and greeted the three immigration officers working there with typical Swahili greetings. Then, upon recognizing that they spoke English, I proceeded to tell them my story in my mother tongue. I explained that we had crossed the border several times to renew our visas while awaiting our work permits and that our permits were now finished and being sent to Kigoma, but that they missed the plane. I asked if they could either call the Regional Director of Immigration in Kigoma (because he knew all about it), or if they could stamp us in on visas without charge and just write on them that we have to sort it out at the office in Kigoma. They asked me a few questions and spoke to each other in Swahili a few times, and then one of them told me that we needed to talk to the “big boss”. She took me next door and I began all over again, from the Swahili greetings to the proposed solutions. He looked over our passports and agreed that it shouldn’t be a problem to just go ahead and enter the country and then deal with it at the Kigoma office. Then he told me that I wouldn’t be saving $300 by him allowing us this privilege, but $600!!!! Apparently in September Tanzania raised the price of a visa for U.S. citizens to $100! Bwana asifiwe! (Praise the Lord).
So we crossed the border and headed for Mwanza. Along the way we stopped to take some photos where a stretch of the highway forms the far western border of the Serengeti National Park. We saw some wildebeests, zebras, and baboons (or “bamboos” if you ask Caleb). We included some pictures for your viewing pleasure. I was getting some great shots of a baboon standing up, but then I realized that I wasn’t using a zoom lens and he really was right next to the car and headed for me and the camera. I drove off quickly as baboons aren’t the friendliest of creatures.
The Baboon in the Tree
The Baboon Coming to Get Me
We made it into Mwanza without incident, got a horrible night’s sleep, woke up the next morning to find Jada with a pretty good fever (later we found out it was strep-throat) and then headed for Kigoma. This time, as we headed across the deceptive Tanzanian tarmac, I was prepared for the treacherous obstacles ahead. With the help of my co-pilot, Carrie, and my backseat navigator, Caleb, we managed to detect the stealthy speed bumps, dodge the perilous potholes, and generally make decent time. We even found a roadside “duka la dawa baridi” (a small pharmacy – literllay: cold medicine store) to get Jada some fever reducer. The only thing I didn’t plan very well for was cash and fuel.
You see you can’t just pay with a credit card here, and you can’t just find an ATM machine anywhere. I had filled the tank in Mwanza, remembering that we made it from Kibondo to Mwanza with one full tank. What I had forgotten was that we made it to Mwanza with a totally empty tank! So I told Carrie to help me look for anyplace that might have fuel before Kibondo. We found one place just after Nyakanazi, but they didn’t have any fuel. We did make it to Kibondo with the fuel light on (glaring at me to be more accurate), but I managed to miss the right turn and we just kept driving and telling each other how it didn’t look familiar. Eventually we were driving through fields and homes and I turned around. When we went back a few kilometers I recognized the turn I missed and there was the fuel station. Praise the Lord!
The needle literally could not physically go any lower on the fuel gauge. Then I realized that I only had a few Tanzanian Shillings left. I kept a couple to buy some drinking water and a couple in case of emergency, and then paid the fuel guy with the rest. This gave us less than half a tank. I remembered that it only took a quarter of a tank to get from Kigoma to Kibondo, and I knew that coming was up hill so going back would be down hill, so I figured I was good. Of course I figured wrong… again.
You see the needle on the gauge moves a lot slower for the first half of the tank than the second half. I realized quickly that we were in for an adventure with the fuel yet again. Long before we reached Kigoma the fuel light began to tease me. It would come on for a moment, as if to wink at me, and then turn off again. The light was staying on more consistently by the time we reached Simbo, and I knew that Simbo was about 40 minutes from Kigoma. I remembered that at the far end of the Kigoma area, where the dirt road turned to tarmac, there was a small fuel station. If only I could make it there I could give them the three or four thousand shillings I had left and that would be enough to get us to the ATM in Kigoma to get more money so we could fill the tank. Then I realized it was almost 6pm, the time that almost all of the fuel stations closed in Kigoma (except for one or two down town). Yikes! I once again told Carrie to pray.
Almost Home - The Road to Kigoma (which you can just make out in the distance)
Back Home in Kigoma - The sun sets over the mountains of Congo, fifty miles away across Lake Tanganyika. This photo is from the road nearby our house.
We rolled into the little fuel station just after 6pm, and once again the needle on the gauge could not have gone any lower! Thankfully, the attendant was still there and gave us some fuel… literally. I had enough shillings for two liters and he actually gave us three out of pity. I’ll take it!
And so, that last answer to prayer marked the end of our two week journey from Kigoma, Tanzania to Nairobi, Kenya and back again. It was hard at times, fun at times, but rewarding as a whole - especially the opportunity to fellowship with likeminded family in Christ. We learned a lot about East African road travel and a lot about ourselves. For instance, I can truly say that I have the best kids on the planet when it comes to long road trips. I could not have asked for better behavior and attitudes, especially under the circumstances. The same goes for Carrie, as she supported me and put up with my “road-grumpiness”. She also became an expert at preparing and serving “meals” without me having to pull over (though I think we’re all a bit tired of peanut butter, bread, chips, and cookies for a while). The best was the homemade banana bread she made and brought with us. Yummm!
If you actually took the time to read all four parts to this tale then I guess I should say thank you… or maybe “pole sana” (sorry). Either way, I hope you enjoyed the stories and pictures.
Kwa heri.
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