Last week, I was off the grid. It was unintentional and highly coincidental that the day we arrived at the Mama Kevin convent of the Little Sisters in Same, my data plan ran out. Perhaps it was a sign from God that this was a unique opportunity to practice being present. Either way, I was glad to be detached from my phone for a few days and felt a weight lifted off my shoulders. It gave me the opportunity to really get to know the Sisters and to use my free time for yoga, napping, journaling, and prayer, rather than scrolling through Instagram. Getting OrientedWe arrived at the convent on Wednesday afternoon and were instantly welcomed by all of the Sisters. As we gathered and began to introduce ourselves and discuss our visit, we quickly learned that our arrival was on the heels of some bad news. Sister Bridget’s mother passed away the day prior. Our purpose in coming to Same was to evaluate the Sister's readiness to pursue social entrepreneurship and to become a potential partner of Solar Sister. Because Sister Bridget was the coordinator of all of our activities and the one in charge of the social venture, we were completely lost without her. We had planned to stay with the Sisters until Sunday and now, with no plans, we had no idea what the next four days would hold. Thankfully, I had been preparing for something like this since my interview for GSBF almost six months ago when I was asked how I handle ambiguity. Throughout the course of the fellowship our mentors have been preparing us for moments like this, moments when the unexpected happens and you have to adapt to your given circumstances. And adapt we did. Even with no plan, we made ourselves busy over the next few days. On Thursday we shadowed some of the European volunteers who were also staying at the convent. The sisters run two main programs, a kindergarten + primary school, and a disability center. The school is adjacent to the convent and has over 400 students many of whom board there. It is in the top 2% of schools in Tanzania. We stopped into a few classrooms to greet the students briefly without being too much of a distraction. In the kindergarten class, we watched as students eagerly took turns coming to the front of the class to correctly identify the names of cooking items like "saucepan" and "knife" in English. Inez, the Spanish volunteer who was showing us around, also took us to the new secondary school. Inez is an architect with Africa Directo, a Spanish NGO that sponsors construction projects across Africa for communities in need. We also visited the disability center which was about an hours walk from the convent. The center recruits disabled children and their mothers from the community. For one week, they stay at the center and the mothers learn physical therapy exercises from volunteers and workers that they can do at home with their children. We sat with one worker while he performed some stretches on a young girl with autism. While the school and center were outside of our research parameters, I was very happy that we were able to visit them and better understand the critical role that the sisters play in the community and the services they provide. Sisters and Social VenturesWe were hoping to learn more about the Sister's new piggery project that they had started in March after attending a conference in Uganda where they had learned about social entrepreneurship from Miller Center. The piggery project has been headed by Sister Bridget but thankfully, Sister Agatha was willing to show us the project and share her limited knowledge about the project with us. At the conference the Sister's had been encouraged to begin their own social ventures. They were advised to start with something small, and grow the idea from there. Because the Sister's already owned a couple of pigs, they decided this would be a good project to invest in. When they returned to the convent, they remodeled the pig pen, adding a roof, new floors, and building up the walls. The pen has four stalls and holds two mama pigs and two piglets. Sister Agatha explained that one of the pigs had recently given birth to only one piglet but the Sisters had expected four to six. The second mama was pregnant and they were anxiously awaiting for more piglets to be born. Because the litter had been smaller than expected, the project had not taken off yet. Adjacent to the pig pen was a garden. The garden was the other half of the social venture. Together, the aim was that the garden and the pigs would provide two profitable income generating activities for a group of women that Sister Bridget had formed. The women in the group were all single mothers or widows who struggled to support their families. Sister Bridget formed the group initially as more of a spiritual support group but it morphed into a social venture group after the conference. The Sisters provided the land and the pigs to the group and the women bought seeds and tended to the garden and pigs. The money from the meat and produce sales would be reinvested in the business and the leftover profits could be shared between the women. This business model, with the aim of providing income generating activities for women, was familiar to us because Solar Sister operates in a similar way and we were excited to see the Sisters taking on social entrepreneurship with excitement and passion. In the evening, Sister Agatha introduced us to Sister Bridget’s group of women. They had written out a formal description of their group and their goals and one woman proudly read it to us while Sister Agatha translated. The group was formed in February by Sister Bridget as a support group for single mothers. The 15 women in the group named themselves Santa Monica. The women meet three times a week, twice to garden and once to discuss logistics and planning. They hope to raise enough profits to support their families. We learned that last week, some elephants from the nearby national park had escaped and trampled on the Santa Monica garden and broken the water tank they use to irrigate their crops. This setback had halted their efforts but the tank was set to be fixed next week. While the piggery project hadn’t become profitable yet, the women expressed excitement and hopefulness for the future. We also learned that the Santa Monica group planned to start a VICOBA (village community bank) in which each woman would contribute 1000 tsh (.50 cents)/week. We wanted to learn more about the women’s backgrounds so we asked the group if anyone would be willing to share their stories with us and why they joined the group. Two brave women opened up. The first explained that she had three children by C-section. Because of medical complications, she was not able to have more children. Frustrated by this, her husband left her. The second woman told use she had four children and her husband died in a car accident. Both women joined the group initially so they could feel support from the other women in their similar struggles. They struggle financially to put three meals on the table for their children and to pay rent and school fees. It is difficult for them to find steady work because they are the sole caretakers of their children. The first woman told us she was happy to have the garden because she knew that now her family would never go hungry. All the women spoke with great love and admiration for the group. The group was very important to them and it clearly improved the quality of their lives not only through having a support system but through giving them an income generating opportunity to support their families. I was very inspired by the strength and positive attitude of the Santa Monica group despite all of the hardships they had experienced and how difficult their lives were on a daily basis. Burial ServiceThursday had been surprisingly successful. We visited the school, disability center, piggery, and met the Santa Monica women's group. We had been hoping to go into the field to visit the far villages with Sister Bridget and see how the Sister's work in the rural communities but that option was now completely off the table. Friday morning I woke up feeling awkward. I didn't want to be a burden to the Sisters but wasn't sure what else there was for us to do. Amanda and I had discussed the night before that we should ask to shadow one of the Sisters to get a better understanding of their daily tasks. However, when we arrived at the breakfast table, we learned that everyone was heading out to the burial of Sister Bridget's mother. There would be no one staying in the convent, not even the other European volunteers. Amanda and I looked at each other and agreed, we should attend the burial. We were told to wear kangas (Tanzanian fabric), one around our waist, one on our shoulders, and one to cover our hair. Luckily we each had received two kangas at the SSE summit a few weeks prior. I didn't have a kanga for my waist so I put on a long skirt, a sweater, and grabbed my two kangas and rushed for the school bus. We piled onto the bus with the Sisters, a few schoolchildren, the two volunteers and took off. A little ways down the road we stopped to pick up even more Sisters and some community members including a couple women from the Santa Monica group that we had met the day before. One of the women helped me and Amanda wrap our kangas on our heads. The bus was packed. Even though it only sat four across, we squeezed five per row to fit everyone. We started climbing up the mountain along the dirt road and I wondered if the old school bus would make it. It would not have been my first vehicle of choice to make the trek but I trusted the system. The journey took over an hour and shortly after leaving Same town, the Sister’s starting singing in a loud chorus. As we rolled and bumped along, I thought about how it felt like I was in a movie. Never in my life would I have imagined that I would be in rural Tanzania, wearing a kanga, driving up a mountain on my way to a burial service, packed tightly on a school bus filled with nuns singing hymns. I had no idea what the burial service would look like, but I knew I would be in for an experience. The burial took place at the home of Sister Bridget’s family. When we arrived, I was shocked at how many people were there. There were already at least 200 people there when we arrived and many more came after us. I would estimate that in total, over 400 people attended the burial. Sister Agatha told us that when someone dies, everyone who knew them or had any connection to them attends their burial service. It is a great honor to have many people attend your burial. We were taken to a neighboring house for tea while we waited for all of the guests to arrive for the service. About an hour after we arrived, the service began. Behind Sister Bridget’s home, a makeshift altar had been set up and several priests gathered to perform mass. Plastic lawn chairs were set up but there were many more people than chairs. Most people stood behind the chairs like us, or sat in the grass on the hill above the house. The mass was long and there was lots of singing. Afterwards, Sister Bridget and her family members gave a few words about the deceased. Then we all processed to the altar to pay our respects. Afterwards, the casket was carried down the side of the mountain below the house. The slope was steep and everyone followed the casket down but there were many near-accidents as people struggled not to fall and slide. The hillside was so crowded and there was so little space that Amanda, Inez, myself, and one of the sisters had to climb to a small ledge and hold onto the branches of a tree behind us so we did not fall. We clung here for the entire burial service which included more prayers and songs before the casket was buried and flowers and branches were laid over the tomb. After the service, we went back to the house where we had tea earlier and lunch was served. The pots of rice, beans, meat, and vegetables were massive and I wondered who had been cooking all this food and how they managed to make enough for everyone. As we were finishing eating, we learned that another burial service was taking place a few houses over. Apparently, the service was for someone our bus driver knew. Without any more information, we cleaned our plates and headed over to our second burial of the day. This service was much smaller than the first but still well attended. Because there were less attendees I could actually see the priests leading the mass and receive communion. After the service, I expected another burial but the Sisters told us it was time to leave. We piled back onto the bus and headed back down the mountain. We arrived back to the convent around 6pm. The burial had been a full day event and we had attended not one, but two services. The whole experience was much different from what I expected. I have attended funeral services and burials in the US but usually they have been two separate events on two separate days and the services were held in a church and cemetery, not in someone’s backyard. In addition, I had never been to a burial that was as well-attended as Sister Bridget’s mothers. The whole thing made me think about my own burial. Thinking about my own death so realistically was a curious thought experiment I had not really considered before. Where would it be? Who would come? I thought about how Sister Bridget’s mother was probably looking down from heaven and just as confused as we were to see two student researchers from the US at her burial service. Joy in the Little MomentsOn Saturday, we had the day off. We drove into town with three of the other volunteers and explored Same while they ran errands. After walking through the town center, we headed to a restaurant for lunch. After lunch, we enjoyed a pleasant, hour long walk back to the convent, through the neighborhood. We had some free time to ourselves in the afternoon so I decided to bring my deck of cards to the dining room table to see if anyone wanted to play a game. None of the sisters were around so I started playing solitaire. As I was playing, Sister Jacinta walked in. She noticed me playing and came over to observe me. After finishing a game, I asked her if she wanted to play. She did, so I showed her how to set up the cards, and walked her through the rules. She struggled through one game, then another. “Can you win this game?” she asked me, “It is very difficult.” I laughed and told her that it is hard to win and is based mostly on luck. She was about to give up when some of the other volunteers came into the room. Eager the impress them with her new solitaire skills, she called them over to watch her play. I shuffled the cards for her and then watched her deal them out and begin to play. She would say each move out loud as she made it, and carefully scan the cards with her eyes, moving slowly to ensure she didn’t miss anything. As she continued to play, I could tell that she was going to win. The cards started falling into place and she began to see that she was close. As she moved each card closer to the finish she would exclaim “and this card goes here, and this one here” and so on. The other volunteers and I cheered her on and as the excitement grew, a few other Sisters stopped in to see what was going on. When Sister Jacinta placed the final card she was ecstatic. I had never seen a grown woman so excited over winning a card game. Absolutely tickled, she shouted and shook her head. She got up from her chair and ran to the wall, and leaned up against it holding her heart. I congratulated her on the win and she grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a tight hug, swaying me from side to side. “I can’t believe I won! Thank you, thank you” she told me. I was pleased that a simple game of solitaire had brought her so much joy. After dinner, the card games continued. One of the volunteers had brought Uno and they had taught the Sisters. The table was full with three volunteers, Amanda and I, and four sisters. It had been a while since I had played Uno and I had forgotten how some of the cards could make others draw, skip, or reverse the direction. The Sisters were absolute Uno savages. They would slap down the skip cards with sass or say “I’m so sorry” in a fake sweet tone before making the next person draw. I was so entertained by how competitive they were and how lively the game was that I didn’t mind losing round after round. Sister Agatha, who had become my favorite sister for her kindness and gentle nature, swindled me so many times it was comical. She ended up winning the most rounds with her cutthroat gameplay. The Final ReflectionSunday was our last day at the convent. I woke up to the sound of a chorus of children singing. Worried that mass had already begun, I jumped out of bed and ran outside. Luckily, the students were just having a pre-mass hymn service but the Sisters told me to wake up Amanda because mass was starting soon. The church was packed with students and we had to bring in chairs from the dining room in order to fit. Attending mass, no matter where I am, brings me peace. Even though I couldn’t understand the readings, the homily, or any of the songs, I could follow along through the service because mass is celebrated the same way around the world. This uniting ritual has made me feel at home in foreign countries and as soon as I step into a Catholic church, the familiarity of the space puts me at ease. This mass was one of the liveliest services I have been to. A combination of the African music, engaging priest, and energetic, youthful energy in the room filled me with joy. There was even dancing! Several of the songs had choreographed hand movements, jumps, and claps and I swayed and hummed along, feeling connected to the worship. After mass and breakfast, I stayed in the dining room with a few of the Sisters. I wanted to soak up my remaining time with them before our driver arrived to pick us up. They were having a conversation in Swahili but when they saw that I was lingering, they switched to English so I could listen in. Sister Agatha was retelling a homily that a young priest in the community had recently given at his ordination. She shared:
There was a little boy in Zanzibar with an oversized shirt and shorts and a big basket of mangos. He carried the mangos on his head all the way from his village to the market to sell. When he arrived, he put down the basket in front of him and started saying “come buy my mangos, they are so delicious, you will love them.” People began to stop by his basket, looking at the mangos, even picking them up to consider. But when they looked at the boy in his oversized clothes, they put the mangos back and left. The boy was getting discouraged. It was nearing the end of the day and no one had bought a single mango. The boy was getting tired and had no money. He thought of how he was going to have to carry the full basket all the way home. He thought, “I should at least eat one mango to have some strength for my journey.” He picked up a mango and began to eat. As he did, the juice began to drip down his arms and the sweet smell wafted through the air. People began to notice this and slowly, they began to come to his basket and buy his mangos because they saw how good they truly were. Soon more customers came, as they watched others enjoys the mangos as well. This is how you should evangelize. Do not rely on your words to convince others of how good God is without loving him yourself. You must not only worship God and sing his praises and glorify him, but also show his goodness to others through your actions. Only then will others be encouraged to follow him. The story really resonated with me. As a Catholic, I have thought about evangelization a lot. Many Catholics I know are quite pushy with religion. Some people use tactics of guilt and persuasion to convince others to praise God. This has never sat right with me. I do not believe that evangelization is about strategically convincing someone else to convert to Catholicism. For me, it is about living out my faith in action, demonstrating the goodness of Jesus to others through how I carry myself and treat others. I never want to tell someone else how to act or what to believe in. I do want to demonstrate kind actions and a strong faith to others through living authentically and following Christ. Like the boy in the story, the best way to spread God’s goodness is to enjoy it yourself. I felt lucky that even in my last few moments with the Sisters, I had taken away yet another important lesson. While our stay at Mama Kevin convent with the Little Sisters of Same did not go as planned, I embraced the ambiguity with open arms. We may not have gotten all of our research questions answered, but we experienced the reality of life in the convent in ways I never could have expected. Amanda and I will be returning to the Sister’s next week to interview Sister Bridget, observe the Sister’s work in the far rural village communities, and introduce Solar Sister to the Santa Monica group with the BDA. Hopefully, we’ll also fit in another game of Uno.
3 Comments
Marianne McGah
7/26/2019 09:00:40 am
Emma—I loved reading about this visit to the Sisters!! Your research and how you are getting to know the communities all sound amazing. Keep up the great work and learning!!
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Cathleen Hokoda
7/27/2019 12:11:20 pm
Emma I so enjoy your blog posts. You write beautifully and in a way that allows me to really see, feel, and hear these amazing experience you share. I can’t wait for the next installment.
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Emma Hokoda
7/29/2019 12:19:07 am
Thank you so much for reading! It has definitely been the experience of a lifetime, I feel so blessed to be here. Hope all is well in Seattle :)
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AuthorI am a senior Environmental Studies major at Santa Clara University from Seattle, WA. To learn more about me check out the "About Me" page! To contact me you can email me at [email protected] or connect on LinkedIn. Archives
November 2019
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