We’ve started digging the hole  for our 50,000/ liter water tank. We are also in the process of measuring the foundation for the Core Community House with realistic hopes of starting to dig the foundation (msingi)  beginning next week.

It rained hard twice this morning. I had mixed feelings on the rain, grateful for we very much need the rain, but regretful we did not get the water tank up and running to catch the rain in time.

We have an historic Election coming up in a few weeks. Mwanza is electric with anticipation, everywhere one goes people are debating the issues and political parties. Yesterday our crew digging the hole for the water tank got into a heated debated with another crew building on our neighbor’s plot. The digging stopped and the rock breaking became silent as voices were raised in passion political debate. The work suffered but hopefully the democratic process continued in this rapidly historically evolving country.

Last night my guard and I sat looking over Lake Victoria talking about the life of the fisherman. He was born and raised to fish on a large island north of us. He told me that the lake is so big that the fisherman can get hopelessly lost when they “kupoteza ramani”(when they lose the map). The map is the night sky and the stars. They navigate without any instruments whatsoever, not  even a simple compass. They follow the stars and memories of land shapes within their heads.

But when the stars get covered over with clouds, they’ve lost the map so to speak and get lost. Thank God for cell phones because then they can call for help. They may have to wait (some are never found) a few days but help can reach them.

Jesus calls missionary disciples to be fishers of people. Sometimes we lose the map, something that is not in our control. Then we just need to call for help and wait. Those who persevere, as Jesus said, will be saved.

I spoke to my neighbor about the noisy dogs. I respectfully gave her my view that the problem is with the dogs and not bad spirits in the night. I offered to help with the costs of hiring a guard if she can do without the dogs. She agreed.

As for finding another place to sleep in the meantime, I won’t. This is another part of life here in Mwanza, ‘Kuvumulia’ (to persevere). But this is not about Mwanza, it is about finding God’s Presence/Challenge in the midst of barking dogs of our lives.

Perhaps in the end the ‘barking dogs’ within are what I need be concerned with. If the ‘barking’ of my fears and angry are still within, then it won’t really matter much about the barking dogs without. But that doesn’t mean we can’t find another way to be safe for us all.

Today I met with Mr. Mbwambo, the site foreman for Chasa Investment Ltd. Contractors. We signed a contract for the foundation and a water tank underneath one of our mango trees.

Afterwards we measured out the placements for the Staff House foundation and the 50,000 liter water tank. Also, we decided where we will be putting up the Contractor’s office and supply shed.

So we took a small but important step along the way to establishing the physical presence of the Lake House of Prayer. It is my hope that we can completed the Staff House around the middle of next year.

Thanks once again all you who support this adventure in various ways. As we say in Swahili, “Mungu akubariki sana kwa ukarimu kwetu” (God bless you for your generosity to us).

Today I spent most of it, waiting. Waiting for my car to get repaired. I should say part of the wait was spent walking around a goodly portion of the city of Mwanza looking for a couple of car parts.

The walk, in a way, was fascinating, going through alleys and side streets I’d never been on in my 16 yrs. in Mwanza. I followed the mechanic and my ‘guide’ going to numerous little hole in the wall shops showing our part and getting shakes of the heads till finally we found our place and bought the parts.

My mechanic has been at his trade for many years and today, it seemed to me, he was coming up against the modern technology of the car repair world. Tanzanian mechanics can do wonders without nothing. I remember breaking down in the middle of the Sengeti with of broken tie-rod. After getting the car to the hotel a mechanic tied together the tie-rod with rubbers strips. I made it home even though the wildebeest were passing me up on the road.

My mechanic made some bushings himself to replace the old worn out ones before I took the car to the computerized wheel alignment shop. The mechanic there complained that the homemade bushings were throwing the computer off. This issue is still not resolved but at least I got my car back. Sometimes the modern world and homemade do-it-yourself methods don’t mix very well.

I left the parish, Mabatini, that I established with the people after 11 years of struggle together. Since then I have taken a one year sabbatical to prepare for the new apostolate of the House of Prayer and spend the last year living at the Bishop’s House preparing the ground for the beginnings of the new adventure of the Lake House of Prayer.

During this time I have had little contact with the people of Mabatini Parish, as is the custom in the Church which says when the former Pastor moves on don’t come back to allow the new regime to go its own unique way without interference.

Yesterday I attended the funeral of one of the elders of Mabatini Parish when I was there. He was someone I depended on for advice and support, especially when I was alone. Many people attended the funeral mass and burial, many from Mabatini, some I haven’t seen for awhile. I am thankful for the deep affection we had for each other as we greeted. Some would say, ‘You have remembered Us’. And I would think the same, ‘You have remembered Me’. Sometimes it is good to renew one’s history with the people you have struggled with. To remember and to be remembered.

As we move toward starting to build the foundation of the Staff Housing I am trying to get the water situation in a good space so we can build without having to worry about having enough water. Today we found out the Water Dept. tore up and disconnected the water lines of many of its customers, including us.

This is a great problem for us, and anyone who wants to bring development. Corruption, lack of proper communication and the overwhelming demands on an outdated system all contribute to going back to carrying water on one’s head.

I’ve called a contractor to make some measurements for catching rain water. Perhaps we need to think about drilling a well too. When the system is not cooperating and instead is creating unnecessary road blocks, one starts to look at alternatives that give some independence. Now, do we get the rain to fill our tank? Perhaps looking at drilling a well in the future is not such a bad idea.

The first thing one thinks of when moving into a new place here in Mwanza is…water. Is there water? Where is it coming from? Is it from the Water Dept.? Is it from a natural spring? Is the spring drying up?

We are using a lot of water because of the trees and plants we have planted. My  personal water use is minimal but even then I need to be careful. I am reminded on this every morning now when I see women lining up at a water faucet and waiting for the water to start flowing so they can put their buckets under the facet to live another day.

I’ve decided to build a 50,000 liter underground water tank so when the water does flow we can create a good reserve. We will also be catching rain, when it does fall to supplement the Water Dept. contribution.

So many people are living on the edge, everyday. I am not on the edge, but I can learn from their patience and perseverance.

I am writing this entry from the parish office of Kirumba, the parish in which the House of Prayer is within. I am here because the road to my house is blocked by a soda truck. I was told that the truck’s battery lost power at the top of the hill and went backwards down the steep tiny road (luckily no one was behind it). Only the motorcycles can get around. So we wait, something one need’s to embrace and accept a lot here.

I started the day fixing a flat tire, then I find out the nuts to hold the tire on are stripped. Need to get new ones. I also decide to get some new tires (been getting too many flats).

Many times the life of the Missioner is taken up totally in the small details. Perhaps this is better after all we’re not here to save the world. Jesus is Savior. I am his servant. I take care of the details. He has the Bigger Picture.