November 11, 2006 

William’s heart beats for Jesus.  He is a vibrant, charismatic man who works as a cleaner at Haven of Peace Academy, the international school we teach at.  His geniality is contagious, and one can’t help but feel the genuine kindness he exudes in every meeting.  William told us he had a vision of planting a church in the area of Madala, a village outside of Dar es Salaam.  He began by purchasing a piece of land where he built a one-room cement home and established a shamba (small farm) on which he grows cassava. 

William is passionate about helping his community, and he quickly found that one of its needs is more educational opportunities.  Not one to sit around waiting for change, he took it upon himself to take action.  Every day after completing his duties at the school, he hops on his bicycle to make the one hour return trip home. Upon arriving he gathers an old chalk board, props it in the shade of a tree in his front yard, and tutors a multitude of eager children who have made their way from near and far.  The kids seem to be seeking a few things.  Clearly they are there for the extra math help that William provides, but the gathering also serves as a safe place where the children can come together.  Teenage girls who are responsible for younger siblings or their own babies are able to pass them off to a friend when it’s their turn for academic help.  They are also there because of William, a man who is love personified.  He knows each child by name and greets them as they arrive.  He asks them about their families and attends to whatever needs arise.  In short, he is like a community father. and no one could ask for a better one. 

William had been asking us to come out and see his home and after-school program for a few weeks.  Eager to see it first-hand and to find out how we might be able to serve as well, we rented a car from our school – one we were soon to discover was patently unfit for the journey – and hopped into the low-riding, green station wagon to embarked on what was to become a truly wild ride.  You should know that what are referred to in America as treacherous hazards and marked with “Do Not Enter” signs are simply called barabaras, or roads, in Tanzania.  Those which we had previously traversed demanded the most adroit manuevering and unflagging attention.  Even their “expressways” have herds of cattle, herds of goats, and herds of vehicles whose operators regularly and collectively decide to drive the wrong way.  As if that’s not enough to watch for, there are the innumerable potholes that have been rumored to double as elephant traps.  Most roads look to have been recently completely washed out by a torrential flood – precisely because that is indeed what has just happened. 

“Hamna shida” (“No problem”), said William as he walked to meet us at the cliff that he wanted us to drive over to complete the final leg of the journey.  It was clear no car had ever managed it before.  Certainly if it had been attempted, its mangled body would have remained in a charred heap at the bottom, but William – who had, mind you, never driven a car – urged us on.  “Hamna shida,” he kept repeating with a nonchalant confidence that somehow became convincing.  After a lot of panicked prayers, we decided we would try, reasoning that the low clearance under the carriage would help stabilize and slow us as we scraped down the gorge. 

As we lurched, jolted, and dragged down the last of the ravine and realized we would live, our attention quickly turned to the green, lush, trees and tall grass that spread across the swale we had dropped into.  It was so exciting to get off the beaten path away from the city.  It was what we had dreamed of when we decided to go to Tanzania. 

As we arrived at William’s home, the students were all sitting down on a mat, patiently waiting as William worked through each of their math levels.  We were amazed at their patience and desire to be there, hands in the air to offer answers to the questions being written on the board.   When he finished teaching, William toured us around his property and asked us if we were interested in coming back to teach English. 

I had been praying for opportunities to open up for me to get to coach soccer, so this was the perfect moment to offer that to William.  He thought it was a great idea.  Seeing women play soccer, let alone coach soccer was sure to be a spectacle, but we agreed to host a soccer clinic for the kids the following Saturday.  The life of sacrifices and services that William was living was inspirational, and we were eager to join his team. 

So that’s just what we did.  We were unsure how many people would come, and we had limited resources, so when about 30 kids showed up eager to play we were both excited and also hit with the realization that we were going to need to find more soccer balls and a bigger space.  We were playing in front of William’s land, which you can tell from the pictures above did not provide much space for soccer.  Additionally, the slope of his land led to a hole in the ground where William and his neighbors got their water and became a catching point for the runaway balls.  Needless to say, we had some problems to solve. 

This day brought us so much joy, especially me, as I was able to bring many soccer games that I had learned from and taught for so long.  We laughed, cheered, ate snacks, and had so much fun together!