Thanksgiving

On Saturday, November 21, we had Thanksgiving.

To enjoy and acknowledge this happy, North American holiday, we decided to celebrate neither the American nor Canadian Thanksgiving Day, but somewhere straddled in between.

We had a day of family and community, involving the local Africans and families to join in on our holiday festivities. We had a breakfast of iced sweet breads and fruit, and sweet milk tea. The tables were decorated with leaves, and coconut shells were filled with pink and white plumeria flowers.

All the base came and we ate together. Families and singles, leaders and students, black and white, baby and child. It was nice.

Then we went to the beach, our team covered the small fee to pay for all who wanted to come. It was so cute, to see the young Tanzanian kids in the car to the coast. Quiet with wonder, watching before their very eyes this event take place that never has before.

It was a beautiful day, we played on the white sand, and the families spent quality time with their little ones down by the water, splishing and splashing around. That was my favorite sight, because I think this was the first time some of the kids (maybe even some of the adults) had been to the sea.

Many of the families struggle to pay in their 30 dollars a month to live here, so thinking of taking a trip to the beach (and it’s only a 20 minute ride away!), is out of the question and out of their minds.

At one point, there was a herd of goats and some cows being herded across the sand. It was quite the moment.

Then we came home, sun-kissed, and sun-grazed, had a most refreshing bucket shower and washed our sandy salty clothes.

Orissa and I had a very inspiring talk by the washing basins again. I was in a soft, repentant state because of something God had pin pointed in my heart that had reared its ugly head earlier that day. So in that place of being close and sensitive to the spirit, we had a very beautiful chat.

Rinsing my clothes, we talked of environmentalists and Christians, stewardship,

young poor churches, and churches that have abundance, purity, humility,

blessed are the poor in spirit, dominion over creation,

power of words, carelessness with words,

redemption, and more.

Finishing up the conversation, Orissa and I held each other’s arms and expressed the hope we feel because of knowing that one another is in the world.

She is seriously such a star. There is a pureness and a deepness and a shining in her eyes, a longing in her heart for dreams and life and dance.

It’s very beautiful and refreshing to be with her,

we build and create and bounce off each other. Her and I share many of the same views and heartcries for the same things.

We then had Thanksgiving dinner, cardamom rice and fried chicken. And then we shared what we were thankful for over a yummy pudding trifle (which gave our systems such a sugar shock... after being adjusted to the African non-sweet diet!)

After cleaning up, the three of us, (Taylar, Orissa, and I) laid down on the grass under the frangipani tree and watched the stars. The power went out so all was clear and still and we saw countless constellations and two brilliantly shining shooting stars soar across the sky.

After the ants found us and started to fill our hair and clothes, we brushed ourselves off and made our way to inside. I turned to see the glow of the moon and saw that he was smiling! Here on the equator, the crescent moon is horizontal, like a big pearly grin in the sky.

We then carried the conversation upstairs and wrote 10 minute poetries. Just writing for 10 minutes and then stopping. Making a poem.

I really liked it! So inspiring. Another creative outlet.

A good way to process as well, I presume.

I’d like to do it again sometime.

Here is the one I wrote,

it’s about our day.

“Tropical Thanksgiving”

Down down

down

you’ll find us

at the bottom of the stair,

at the basins

among windy linens

under the stars

covered with ants.

Vision is on our lips

dreams are in our hearts

belief is in our eyes

Life is in our words.

Come, all to the table

ye wedding guests

in tattered rags

or shining robes

you are welcome here.

Let us give thanks

to the One who knits us together

who holds the cords of Pleiades

who holds the very life to our blood.

Let us give thanks

under the stars

with a smile in the dark, a rise in our hearts,

only to see that the moon is smiling too.