GOOOOAAAALLL!!!!

In taking on this Tanzanian adventure I naturally had some goals in mind and figured more would come as I go. Most were simple, broad goals like the ones I mentioned in one of my pre-Tanzania posts (helping the students, growing spiritually, growing as a teacher, etc.). Other goals have come already in my time here. One such example is the following: Tell a joke in Swahili. Another is: Learn to find joy in waiting and in wondering. This is, after all, a day in my life.
Today was another one of those wonderful, slap-in-the-face reminders that life is beautiful, and that hasn’t changed just because I’m farther away from my loved ones than I can bare to think about. Great things happened today: I woke up. I had talked to Mom and Papa yesterday. We used internet this morning. There were extra instruments in Mass today (drums and some wooden shaker thing). Mike and I got introduced at the end of Mass. I had three large meals today (including 3 bananas, down from the 5 I had yesterday). I had a roof over my head and access to clean water. I had running water (except part of the day, but it is dry season, I can’t get greedy). I got to go on a beautiful 2 plus hour hike with Mike. Vespers was in Latin (I probably caught about the same amount of words as I would in Swahili, but it was a nice change of pace). Vespers included Eucharistic Adoration! (I can’t say enough about how huge that was for me. I got to Skype with Joey. I have a mosquito net. I’m happy.
Some of the kids from the village like to hang around near our guesthouse, and they are a great reminder for me to be thankful. The lives of the villagers can differ greatly from those at the monastery. Seeing some of their houses reminds me of other houses we saw in remote villages on the way. Africa, in general, and Hanga, Tanzania specifically are by no means just a bunch of villages with meager run-down huts. However, there are plenty of people all around me struggling just to survive in a way I can’t begin to imagine. I always like Sam Neely’s song lyrics “Count your blessings, yeah. Be happy for what you got. You’re cryin’ ‘cuz you aint got no shoes- well that poor soul now he aint got no feet.” I get super bummed because I haven’t seen my sister in weeks, and I have a right to be, because I love her. But I met a student who hasn’t seen his brother in years, because his brother had to move to America as a refugee from Burundi. I guess this is just me finally getting a little sappy/journal-y as I try to put my homesickness into perspective.
Without any smooth segue into something quite a bit more lighthearted, I did want to mention that there was one more goal I wanted to talk about, and it also fits into the list of things I’m thankful for. You see, soccer (football) is pretty huge here. I typically attempt to get to know people/earn respect through a) goofiness or b) bonding over athletics. Goofiness is not looking promising, as most people don’t necessarily understand all of what I say let alone my humor. And then there’s athletics….Mike and I busted out the old Frisbee a couple of times so far, and I have to say, some of my favorite snapshots so far have been seeing the smiles and hearing the laughs of Tanzanians who try to throw for the first time. It’s almost like they can’t believe they’re trying something so ridiculous, and they look to us to nod approvingly as they mimic the throwing motion they’re about to try. Typically this first try does not go as planned for them (they see us throw and expect the same accuracy on their first try, and sometimes their first try doesn’t even rotate). This is usually followed by ear to ear grins and great laughter from all around. It’s just a sweet moment of them letting their guard down, learning something new, and trying their own bit of something a little foreign. Anyway, Frisbee tangent aside, athletics also aren’t looking promising. There’s some volleyball, but no one is really much for playing by the rules. Plus, my bread and butter is diving for digs, and that’s not too wise on the hard ground… There’s basketball, but the rim is about the size of the ball (jumpers are almost out of the question, but maybe after a great deal of practice) and the team movement looks a lot more like soccer. Which brings us to…soccer of course. No one really cares about the other sports. It’s all about the soccer, and I’m not…how you say…good. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I may have never scored a goal in my life. That includes the league I was in when I was just a little guy, gym, and probably even goofing around. It’s just not my thing. I proved this in the staff vs. students game on Friday. Let’s just say I played goalie until I was replaced by the waterboy who was wearing dress clothes…I don’t want to talk about it.
This brings us to today. Br. Germanus is a really nice monk that has taken it as his responsibility to make sure we feel especially welcome at prayer and sports. Thus, after Vespers today, he invited us to join as the monks would be playing soccer with the trade school students. This was it. My chance to immediately get back on the horse and show and show some resilience. The goal was simple: Fade in. If you don’t mess up terribly, no one will notice. In the end, they’ll thank you for playing and that’ll be that. But there was another goal. A secret goal. A goal that was downright META (sort of, it’s a stretch, but it’s half meta and half pun for those of you that understand/care). The goal: A GOAL. This would be unchartered territory. Was I dreaming too big? Maybe. I guess that’s why I did it. (I have told people I’d be fine with never scoring, but who am I kidding?). Anyway, I’d love to insert a detailed play by play here, but it would just remind you all how little I know about the game, so let’s cut to the chase: I SCORED A GOAL!!!! That’s right, I can now add to my short list of epic things I have done. Marathon? Check. Survive the boundary waters with junior higher from St. Paul? Check. Go to Africa? Check. Score a goal while playing soccer with Tanzanian monks? Check.
Every fiber of my being wanted to run around yelling “GGGGOOOOLLLLIIII!” (Swahili for goal), but here is a list of reasons I didn’t:
1. That’s not very humble.
2. I gathered from the other 6 or so goals scored that people are much more inclined to walk back to their position after scoring as if nothing happened (hey, I’m still trying to fit in).
3. I didn’t want people to think I was taunting by saying the English “Goalie”.
4. Let’s be real, I didn’t even know how to say “goal” in Swahili until I looked it up after I got back to my room.
Alas, the goal was scored, and my ego was boosted. I tried to keep you in suspense, but I suppose the title gave it away. It’s kind of like when SportsCenter titles a segment “Vikings Drop the Ball” and then talk through the game as if you don’t know who won (yeah, I heard the great news about the Saints game). Oh well, the important thing is that it happened and it was magical.
Now for a couple final updates: I’m supposed to have a meeting tomorrow (Monday) that will decide what I’ll be doing for work the next couple of months. Fingers crossed.
Also, a quick and somewhat unimportant note about my name: Alec is not easy for Swahili speakers to pronounce. The “a” sound in Swahili is only “ah”. So the “a” that we have in “Alec” or “after” just doesn’t exist. Also, the “e” sounds like “ay”. Also, most people’s l’s sound like r’s. Thus, my name, if read, would sound something like either “Ah-lake” or “Ah-rake”. The moral of this story is that most assume that it is Eric. I’m not too picky, and I know Al would be even tougher, but there’s an exciting recent occurrence. The young village kids have started calling me “Ah-lee-key”. I spell it Aliki. I have to say, I kind of like it. I claim that the Swahili translation for my “Al my Pal” (I got that more in my younger days) is Aliki Rafiki. I’m thinking about going with that for introductions from now on…right before I mention that I’ve scored a goal.