Tanzania Chainsaw Massacre

For those of you who were wondering, no they don’t celebrate Halloween in Tanzania. To be honest, we passed through October 31 without even really remembering it was Halloween. There were no little children dressed in costumes at my door. No buckets of candy. No scary movies. No pumpkins on front porches. But lucky for me, the wazungu do celebrate Halloween! We were a few days late on our festivities, but they were still fun. So I thought I would give you a little recap of my Tanzanian Halloween.

We all gathered together at our friends’ house for some dinner. The background music was entitled Halloween Rock. We did our best to set the mood for Tanzanian Halloween. To further set the mood, I decided a costume would be appropriate. So I wrapped my Kanga around my neck and created my own amazing cape. I became Swahili Girl! While wearing the cape, I have the supernatural ability to speak Swahili. (It’s definitely what I’ve always dreamed of).


After dinner, the real excitement began. We had our very own watermelon carving. (Watermelon…. Pumpkin….they’re close enough). We had been talking about this Carving Contest for a few months now. It has become an annual event in Dar es Salaam. And since we live in Africa, we are entertained by even the smallest and craziest of things. Since this event was the talk of the team for a few months, there was a lot of pressure to perform well. Marissa and I weren’t too excited about the contest, but we decided to be good sports and go along with the fun. We worked as a team on our melon creation. As most of you would expect, it didn’t take long for me to get into the competition. Marissa is just about as competitive as I am… so we had our game faces on. We huddled in the corner to secretly plot our melon creation. All of the whispers and giggles had the other competitors baffled. They were definitely not expecting what they got that night. But when Marissa and I get going, it’s dangerous!

Words don’t quite do justice to the creation, so you can refer to the pictures. We entitled it “Tanzania Chainsaw Massacre.”


Our teammates were shocked that our minds would even come up with such a horrific event. Watermelons killing watermelons… who would have thought? They were actually quite impressed by our creation. As you can see in the pictures, our other competitors went for a less frightening melon display. The judges, being the sweet people that they are, decided to give different categories for each pumpkin so that everyone could be a winner. There was the cutest, the most geometric, and the most thematic. But our friend Brad wasn’t satisfied with these categories. He demanded there be a winner. So Marissa and I declared ourselves winners and everyone agreed. There was definitely no competition.


After we marveled at our wonderful creations, we did what only any normal person would do. We smashed them. We threw our melons up against a concrete wall and left all the carnage on the side of the road. Crazy wazungu!



So that was my Tanzanian Halloween. I have no doubt that Marissa and I will carry the pride of winning our first Melon Carving Contest for the rest of our lives. And when they begin to talk about next year’s carving, we will be sure to remind them of our Tanzania Chainsaw Massacre. How could they forget?

Are you willing?

I don't normally use my blog as a personal journal. I like to give you guys stories of things that are happening in Africa. But sometimes I guess it's good to let you guys know what's going on just with me. So here it is...

Last night, I called to wish one of my best friends a Happy Birthday. It was wonderful to be able to hear his voice. But it was also quite difficult. I love the opportunities that I get to talk to people from home, but sometimes they serve as reminders. Reminders of what I may be missing in America. Reminders of how different things may be when I return. Reminders that I miss being able to call my friends and family anytime I want to. Many times when these feelings start to enter my head, I try to keep busy so that I don't have to think about them. As the Lord would have it last night, we did not have any electricity. So there were not many things to occupy my mind with. So I consented to just lay on my bed. I was thinking about my friend and the conversation we had just had. He asked me on the phone, "So where do you think you will be in 2 years?" I've had this conversation with myself many times. Where will you be in 2 years Whitney? And every time I tell myself that I will be back home. So last night, with no electricity, nothing to do, the Lord began to speak...

(excerpt from journal)

Are you willing? Are you willing to be obedient? How far will you go to follow Me? I've asked you to sacrifice your comfort, your home, your friends, and family for a short time. What if I ask you to stay? What if I ask you for more? Will you be willing? Will you draw another bottom line? You had a bottom line - friends and family. You said, "Oh God... I will miss them too much. I won't make it two years without them." But I took away your bottom line. I asked you to follow Me and you did. But how far will you follow? Will you follow to death? There are many who are laying down their lives for me. If I asked you, would you? But right now, it's not death that is your line. It's 2 years. 2 years is your line. You have drawn your time limit on Me. "I will follow God for 2 years here and then I will follow Him back home." Haven't I showed you child? Home is with me. You are at home no matter where you are, because your heart is at home with Me. One day you will be in your perfect home in perfect fellowship with Me. Until then, how far will you follow? Will you lay down what I ask you to? Are you willing to be obedient?

I don't know if this makes sense to anyone else. But it made sense between God and me. And I knew I needed to share it.

Making Friends

Making friends here is a very different process than in the States. Sometimes it is actually very entertaining. It is not culturally inappropriate to approach someone you do not know and begin a conversation. So I have met many of my new friends by simply sitting down next to someone and introducing myself.

A few weeks ago, however, I was the one who was approached. I had tried to visit a couple of my friends on campus, but they were not in their rooms. So I decided to sit and read until my next meeting. I picked a nice shade tree to sit under near the chapel. Not too long after I sat down, I met my new friend. She just walked right up and started talking. We did our best to communicate in Swahili because she could not speak English. It was a wonderful way for me to practice all the things I had learned. She was a very patient teacher as well. Her name is Rachel.

Did I mention that Rachel is only 5 years old?

I learned a lot about Rachel during our time by the chapel. We talked about her family and her school. We talked about what she likes to do. She even drew a picture for me. I asked her if I could take a picture of her with my camera. She became very intrigued with my camera. So I taught her how to push the button to take a picture. She quickly got the hang of it and proceeded to take a picture of nearly everything. She would take pictures of rocks, leaves, trees, cars…. It didn’t matter what the object was. She just enjoyed being able to push the button and then see the image on the back of the camera. She took pictures of my purse, my skirt, her dress. She even took pictures of people as they walked by. Five year olds can get by with a lot more than adults can.

While we sat and talked, we got a lot of funny stares. They always stare at me because of my white skin. But they were even more intrigued that I was playing with a Tanzanian child.

After we had played together for a while, Rachel looked at me and said, “Twende nyumbani kwangu.” Hmmm…. My Swahili brain started to turn as I tried to translate the sentence. Eventually, I realized that she was saying “Let’s go to my house.” Another cultural difference, inviting people to your home is very common and turning them down is very rude. But I wasn’t sure if it would be okay for me to show up at a house with a 5 year old and try to explain to her parents how we met. I did not know if they would accept me. I did not know if they would speak English. I did not know what would happen. I did not even know where they lived. But I knew I couldn’t turn down the offer by my new sweet friend.

So we headed off towards her house. Luckily, it was just down the road from the chapel. When we arrived at her driveway, I thought maybe I would just try and say goodbye to her there and avoid having to go in the house and meet the parents. It was obvious that that wasn’t going to work. (Remember all of this is happening with my limited knowledge of Swahili). So I entered her house praying that the Lord would bring me into a home with kind parents. We sat down in the living room and I met her 12 year old sister Tumaini. Another cultural thing, if you own a TV, you always have it on. Especially when you have guests. So we sat and watched music videos on the TV. After a few music videos, I was introduced to Matilda, a 19 year old girl cousin (You can see a picture Rachel took of her in the kitchen). The parents, however, were not home yet.

The time was approaching for my next appointment, so I told them that I must go. They all asked me to come back again tomorrow. So the next day I returned for another home visit. When I arrived, Matilda invited me to the table to eat with her and her sister. It was my first time to eat in a home. I was given fish, spinach, ugali, and an orange. Ugali is difficult to describe but it is a very mushy type of bread without any flavor. They use it as their eating utensil. They tear a piece off, press their thumb in it to create a spoon, and scoop up the food. A little while later, I was also given a scrambled egg. It was another very interesting dining experience, but praise the Lord that I was able to eat it all.

After lunch, we sat together and looked through pictures. My little friend Rachel was napping so I didn’t get to play with her again. And the parents were not home again, but they told me that they told their parents all about me. I wonder what they thought about their 5 year old daughter having a 22 year old mzungu friend (white friend). Maybe on my next visit I will be able to meet them.

Making friends is always fun in Tanzania!