After putting up a temporary supply shed we are in the process of building a temporary fence. We are able to hire some of the local women and men to give them day jobs for a limited time. We also discovered that some of the beacons that mark the boundaries of the land are misplaced. So, now we will have to go through the tedious process of getting someone to come out from the land department to remeasure part of the land.

Hopefully, by next week we will have most of the fence put up. That remaining part that needs to remeasured. Well, it’s hard to tell when we will finish with that section.

Security is big business in a poor country like Tanzania. Some people are so desperate they steal just to survive. Some are so wrapped up in materialism they steal for the psychological lift. Some are just plain mean and steal to cause pain in others. So, we need guards.

On the recommendation of one of the Christian leaders I hired a guard a few days ago for a trial period. The main thing I want a guard to do is to sound the alarm if there is trouble and not to fight. Guards need to move around the area hiding in different places unseen men looking out into the dark night. A dangerous job with little reward.

Many guards are corrupt and steal from their employers, others are faithful and trustworthy. But it takes awhile to find out what kind of a guard you have. I’ve been blessed during my years in Africa although I know I’ve paid many times for guards sleeping instead of patrolling. This morning when I went to check on the guard before Sunday Mass he was no where to be seen as I got out of the car. As I approached our newly built temporary store room I hollered out, “Hodi, Hodi” which is an African ‘doorbell’ to let people know your coming. No answer. Finally he came out looking a little worn out.

Now, looking back, I wonder if he was sleeping. These are the distractions that take a lot of one’s effort but one must follow up on these small details. There is a saying in Swahili, “Usipoziba ufa, utajenga ukuta” If you don’t fill the crack, you’ll build a wall. Tomorrow my guard and I will have a heart to heart.

Today we have started building the Lake House of Prayer, we were a bit ‘late’ in starting this morning, but we started. It started raining early this morning so it was looking like we might cancel but after Ali the contractor, Ernesti my assistant and I met we decided to chance it and start.

When we got to the site it started pouring. The rain started lightly so we went underneath a tree which did an umbrella imitation but when it started to pour we went a sat the car. It has always impressed me how most people here know how to wait. Patience is still a way of life here. Time is more about events passing than minutes passing. So, if its raining, the event is rain, then one waits until the event of rain is over and move on to the next event, building a temporary storeroom.

As we dug the holes for the wooden poles we discovered termites, another unforeseen item on the budget, termite insecticide. The guard we hired came by to finalized the arrangements for his work. Ali needed some money to pay his workers. We asked the Christians if we could borrow their trap so if it rains tonight the guard won’t get wet. Ernesti comes back with me to the Bishop’s House so I can give him some money to buy some metal sheets that will be the walls and roof of our store. One learns to take a step at a time and handle all that comes the big and small, from a truck full of wood to a raincoat for the guard.

Yesterday I had lunch with the woman whose efforts have made it possible for the House of Prayer to be a future reality. Her name is Aripina, a professional woman who works for the Tanzanian Revenue Service. She is separated from her husband with two young adult men as her children. She is a very pious Catholic woman who knows how to work the system in a way to get what she wants.

She secured a piece of land next to the site of the future House of Prayer and has built two houses on get from a loan she secured at work. She then made inquiries to the vacant lots neighboring her houses and slowly, one by one, started buying them until she was able to buy four plots. These plots usually go to one’s children as an inheritance but when she made it known she wanted to give them to the church, some of the relatives tried to convince her younger son that his mother was giving away his inheritance. But she had spoken over her desire to give the land to the church with her younger son, Gonzaga. He was agreeable, for he wants to be a priest.

The Gospel of Luke shows clearly Jesus’ transformative relationship with women. Women had a prominent role in the Mission of Jesus, in fact, they were his benefactors who made in possible for Jesus to complete his Mission. Women are prominent here in the Church and yet there is still a ways to go for them to receive their rightful roles in the Church. So woman like Aripina work behind the scenes empowering the church to become what it really is, the House of God for all peoples, with equality for all.

There is a saying in Kiswahili, “Mwanzo ni Mgumu”, The Beginning is Difficult. Today I took some positive steps to move toward starting to develop the area of the Lake House of Prayer. I went up to the site with a local contractor whom I’ve worked with in the past, Ali and my number one assistant, Ernesti to walk over the borders of the area and begin to plan.

We decided to build a make-shift storeroom to store all the tools and building materials instead of asking a neighbor if we could store our stuff with them (things tend to disappear that way). We also decided to build a wire fence with wooden posts that we can plant a certain kind of greenery that grow along the wire fence eventually covering it with a beautiful green hedge.

Ali was telling me the other day that the Chinese are taking a lot of the building jobs in the city which leaves local contractors without any work. It’s funny Ali is a Moslem but he has built many buildings that belong to the church including the Mabatini Parish Hall where I used to be pastor. I could have chosen someone else but I want a local guy who is trustworthy, skillful and a hard worker. That’s Ali. I enjoy this decision of choosing Ali, not because of his religion but because of his character.

I think it was Hemingway who wrote a short story entitled “A Clean Well Lighted Room”. What I remember about the story was the importance of having a simple place but a place one could rest in peace. I think I have found this place at a Missionary Group’s Society House close by Lake Victoria.

There is a retired French priest-missioner takes care of the place who doesn’t speak English, I don’t speak French, so we speak Kiswahili to each other. Such is our global village that in one conversation we can put an English and French accent on an African language.

The room has a small wooden desk with chair, a comfortable sturdy chair for reading and a bed. This room becomes my ‘cell’ where I take morning naps to get over the fatigue of the weekend, pray, write and reflect on how my life is going. One really does not need a lot of ‘stuff’ to rest. As matter of fact it’s better to have as little ‘stuff’ as possible so not to be distracted from authentic rest. After all one truly needs is a ‘clean well lighted room’ and a willing heart and God does the Rest.

Going through Mwanza is like going through a construction site with various buildings in different stages on completion. The outstation church I have been celebrating mass has the walls but no roof. So before mass starts on Sunday the Christians put on two large tarps labeled “UNHCR Refugees” to give some of the Church protection from the intense tropical sun during the mass. Well, today the people responsible, who were women, had no men around to help them climb up the rafters to fasten the huge tarps(men usually do this work).

So, we started mass without any shade but in the beginning it was fine because the clouds blocked the sun. That lasted 5 minutes then the sun began to burn into our skins. At the end of mass during the announcements, someone mention that we didn’t even have the altar area covered. I joked that I was about ready in faint and it is not enough to be concern about the altar, what about the people who sat through a hour and half mass in the tropical sun.

After mass I was invited to a meeting. Where? In the same church without a roof or cover. The meeting lasted an hour during which I struggle to position my chair in the tiny space where there was some shade. As least I had my baseball hat on during the meeting. I should of had it on during mass. Living in Africa is learning to be patient with the shortcomings like not having a roof. People put up with extraordinary difficulties. So who am I to complain if the UNHCR traps where not put up for mass. There are probably some refugees missing their tent.

Proverbs are a traditional way to convey wisdom and morals for the people. A favorite of mine is, ‘Haraka, Haraka, Haina Baraka’ (fast fast there is no blessing). But things change, just the other day I heard from a wise friend that now the proverb goes, ‘Fast fast there is blessing’. Yes, the speeded up globalized world has come to Africa, big time.

Still there is a wide gap for foreigners to overcome in regards to how time is understood. It is one of the major sources of frustration for the guest. One makes an appointment, then waits for two hours. The problem occurs when having strong expectations that the exact time of the appointment will be kept.

Yesterday I tried the African way of keeping time. I had two appointments to keep but I told the second one that when I’m finished with the first I’ll call him to meet with him. One is never sure because of so many factors that come in between what one had planned and what actually happens. For example in this case the women I needed to see was late 30min because of a big rain storm and a traffic jam. We were delayed even more because the road we had to take to our destination was partially destroyed because of the rain. So, overall I was one hour late from what I was hoping for the second appointment but no problem I had not set a time. I just called up my second appointment and told him that I was ready. He was patiently waiting, understanding how time works here.

When I ask someone their name there is usually a pregnant pause as the person runs through the list of names in their mind. There is the traditional tribal name given to a newborn of one of the ancestors who have passed on. Then there is the Christian name given at baptism. There is also the nickname which they usually answer to. Then there are the names used to get another try at a test they failed, so one buys another name to retake the test.

This week I went to visit the last architect I dealt with for the building of my former parish (I dealt with three different architects during that time). The head architect introduced to a young woman with 5 years experience. Her name is Maria Hildebrand Byzana. She told me a bishop gave her the baptismal name of Maria, her uncle the name of the saint Hildebrand. Byzana is here tribal name.

She relayed to me she has had experience creating healing environments for the mentally ill. I was glad to hear this because the House of Prayer will be a healing space for many of us undergoing mental pain. I mentioned to Maria Hildebrand that many women in the United States look to Saint Hildebrand for her example of creativity and leadership. Maria Hildebrand never knew of the richness of her name. She smiled and said she would look her namesake up. I’m pleased to start out with Maria Hildebrand Byzana as my architect. A good sign that God is doing something new with the House of Prayer.

Today I was part of a 4hr liturgy with Archbishop Ruwa’ichi as he finished up his 3 day pastoral visit at Kirumba Parish (where the House of Prayer will be). There were close to 200 people who received the Sacrament of Confirmation. Gifts given, songs sang, dancing by the 200 member choir.

At the end of the mass the Bishop invited me up to the altar with him and introduced to the people. This was important to get the support from the “Mzee” (the elder leader). Things are personal still in this part of Africa. One’s age, character, tribe, body, voice, vision, the manner in which on carry oneself are all important. Getting the “Mzee’s” validation in front of a crowd of around 2,000/ will make my life a bit easier.

I’m known in another part of this big city of Mwanza but here only a few people know me. Now, if I need help or advise the chances are there will be someone around to assist me. One becomes a somebody with the introduced of a somebody. One still can make a name for oneself by using one’s full humanity for the good of others.