Multiply Zambia 2014 Day Twelve - Sunday

Hello, hello, we've got a muezzin again - 5.20am.  Of course I could miss breakfast to fit in preparation for church this morning, now that I know the score.  But we've agreed we'll all convene back at the hotel at 1.00pm and then go to the beach for lunch, so I'd prefer to have started the day with something inside me.

It seems unreal that with the three hours time difference, we'll have got our 7.45am-10.15am service over before folks in UK are thinking of getting up.  Rukundo and I are at Bishop David's Nabioth Church.  He's General Secretary of the Tanzanian equivalent of UK Evangelical Alliance.   He's a portly and affable brother.  As we'll discover - today's his birthday. 

Arriving at ten to eight, a lady in a pale green two-piece is already getting the crowds warmed up on the dance floor in front of the expansive platform. I can't help noticing that two thirds of the congregation appears to be women.  She is followed by a little guy in a jacket and bright red shirt who boogies and hops theatrically, gyrating on the heels of his obligatory black winkle-pickers.  (I could write a whole blog about preachers' shoes.)  Bishop beams generously.  Next comes a lady in a frothy dark red outfit.  I'm beginning to relax about the fact that I only intend to talk for 15-20 minutes, although Bishop has proposed 50 minutes will be available before the prompt 10.00am finish.  We still have to fit in the offertories, the children's talk, testimony time and introductions.   

What happens next catches me out.  Red lady begins to shimmy towards the Bishop.  A crowd of ladies follow her, with five guys in tow holding cameras aloft.  "Happy Birthday," I can make out through the 80+ decibels.  The Bishop's beam broadens.  He stands at the platform front with his wife, while 'blessings' are pressed into his hands by a queue of affectionate members.  As we move on to the children's talk, an usher discreetly removes the pile of crumpled notes from in front of the lectern, and Mrs Bishop counts them into a neat bundle at the dignatories' side table where we're sitting.

Rukundo asides to me during the testimony time as we've been going an hour and a half and there hasn't been a break from Swahili.  As the Bishop prays for them we're pushing 90 decibels.  Later I find that the worship leaders also receive a 'blessing' for their ministry.  Rukundo follows me at twenty to ten and we deliver on time.  Afterwards, in the Bishop's office, we enjoy a cup of coffee, each made with four sachets of full cream powdered milk, and bread and runny honey applied with a spoon.  I must try that again some time. 

Rukundo and I slip down to the hotel restaurant and enjoy a mango juice.  1.00pm passes and eventually Len and Gregory arrive.  Their 10.00am meeting finished at 1.00pm, and Len has been given a 'blessing' equivalent to £10.  Time goes by and I try to ring Steven.  My phone has alternately connected - with Internet - to both Airtel and Zantel, but only through the latter can I ring out.  "Samahani," the nice lady keeps saying as I repeatedly fail to connect.  He arrives at quarter to three, hot and apologetic.  He didn't get to begin his preach until 1.00pm (but his 'blessing' was $25).

We pile into Jacob's Toyota Previa, and head of for rest and adventure.  We drive past the Landmark Hotel of 2012's visit fame, and the central Barclay Bank branch, too.  We pull off the road into the Atrium, an Arabic-style restaurant with tables set out under palm trees.  Eventually we order, and an hour passes with no sign of a meal arriving.  We're filling in the time with an animated conversation about how Multiply could do better at facilitating the visa process for UK conference invitees, and how to get Rukundo kitted out with a minibus.  He's just been given a 23-year-old-car, which is somewhat inadequate for the community of 18 adults and 28 children.

Another hour passes.  In half an hour the light will begin to fade, and lunch will turn into an evening meal.  Our table represents half the customers.  The trip to the beach has been sabotaged, and after we've finally eaten we drive round the waterfront struggling to make out any significant features.  We arrive back at the hotel glad of the aircon.  Manchester City versus Wigan blares from two large TV screens.  Steven suggests a drink of tea all round.  Another impossibly long wait follows.   I take a cup up to the room and collapse into bed.

Multiply Zambia 2014 Day Eleven - Saturday

I had a restless night.  During the power cuts our fan had stopped, and the room was hot and stuffy.  Although we'll be on-the-go until past 10.0pm tonight, I cut my losses and had a shower and got on with packing.   Ali had rung to say they'd hit a few problems in Kitwe.  There'd been a mix-up about who was looking after the children, and meals had been missed and one kiddy was poorly - probably malaria.  The set-up desperately needs the house parents to be on-site that the church had first planned for.  Ali and Hannah were running out of money, too, so I sent some with Farayi who'll be seeing Jimmie.  We said goodbye to Calla Lily Lodge - it's been a good choice. 

On the way to the Airport I rang Rukundo - as I had Gregory yesterday - to ensure he's all sorted out for our rendezvous en route to Dar es Salaam.  Our flight from Kamazu Airport to Nairobi was very smooth, once we'd located Steven.  He'd gone to an Airtel counter to see if he could send some urgent SMS messages. 

At JKIA, Nairobi, I got an Internet connection on my phone, but couldn't manage to tether to my laptop in time to make much use before we were called to get ready for moving to Gate 04.  Gregory was keeping us waiting, but finally made it onto the plane in time.  This was an Embraer 190, and from Len's window seat he got a clear view of Kilimanjaro an the summit poked through through the cloud cover.

We collected our bags at Julius Nyerere Airport and started to hunt for Rukundo.  Steven spotted him on the staircase and we soon headed for our hotel by taxi through the thick and dusty traffic.  Marriotti Hotel lies just off the main Mandela Road highway.  We decided to mix-and-match the room sharing: I'm with Rukundo, Gregory and Len are together, and Steven - who is most unconventional - is in a single room. 

We quickly gather downstairs to eat with Pastor Luvanda and Steven's brother Jacob.  My memory of Tanzanian food was the delicious beef stew and fearsome Changu fish.  Both are available!  Steven overplays his hand in Swahili, and asking for fish with boiled potatoes wrongly juxtaposes the adjectives and nouns.  As he's presented with a dish of boiled fish, Gregory laughs hugely.

We plan out the next day's church visits (Rukundo and I get a 8.00am start), and the two days of the conference.  My only worry is that the topics lean heavily towards what I've introduced so far.  It going to be a squeeze to give the other guys a fair slice of the action.

I find the air-con is set to 16C, which is ridiculous, but it doesn't seem to moderate its icy blast when to set the temperature higher.  My night's sleep is restless again- this time I'm too cold!

tiply Zambia 2014 Day Two - Thursday

A strange tune was playing from Len's side of the room.  It stopped, and I slept again.  Then the tune started up anew.  Len had bought an MTN SIM card for his data dongle: "I couldn't get it to stop," he conceded.  But 'it' wasn't his dongle, it was Gladys' mobile phone, that she'd forgetfully left in the bedroom.  And because of the commitment to round-the-clock prayer times, she had alarms set for 4.30am and 5.30am.  Meanwhile, Len had thought 'it' was my travel alarm.  Thus we were pitched into the day, whether we'd sufficiently caught up on sleep or not.

Steven excused himself from breakfast so he could dash down to the church and keep an eye on registration and other preparations.  He'd thoughtfully arranged for a sheet stretched over a wooden frame to be set up for our projector screen.  I had oats and hot milk, and Len had toast and Marmite.  He was missing his favourite de-caff tea.

George arrived with his van, and we took a circuitous route to pick up the other four.  They'd obviously enjoyed every minute with their respective hosts.  Hannah and Ali related with relish having tracked down and squashed two mosquitoes.  Their approach had been less genocidal than Len's toxic spray.

Steven's church had been repainted and now boasts a perimeter wall.  Three years ago half the premises were unused, but now they run the school, a sewing workshop (equipped by Work-Aid) and the newly installed Internet Cafe for which we'd been raising funds.  It's all a creditable achievement, and a high standard.  First to greet us with his broad smile was Emil, who attended MILC UK in 2012.

The morning sessions went well, at 11.00am.  The remainder of the team shot off to see these other parts of the set-up, which they'll be immersed in for most of their stays.  They were thoughtful over lunch, especially Jimmie, which was probably a good sign.  We led the afternoon with a question and answer session, which responded well to what the hundred-plus delegates wanted to hear about.  Church businesses came high on the agenda.  Len rounded off with a hearty presentation on servant leadership, and we sent everyone home with a question to think about ready for our opening workshop tomorrow.

The band assembled for a practise, and Ali led a group of the children into the main hall for some spontaneous worship and dance.  This was what she'd come for.  "Is your heart broken, yet?" I asked Hannah.  She nodded.

We took a leisurely trip back into town to buy a few things from an Airtel staff and the busy Shoprite, and then reached Steven's home again.  He returned, looking tired, at a slightly more civilised hour than yesterday, but in a heavy rainstorm  We enjoyed beef stew and rice, rounded off with fresh fruit.  I explained about my partial church discipline, and Steven grunted his understanding about getting over-stressy when you let problems mount up.  We planned tomorrow's sessions, including a lot of group work on leadership teams.  Another heavy rain storm

Len had spent all evening unsuccessfully trying to get his dongle to - er, dong?  I quickly precis'd some PowerPoints to print as handouts, and went to bed.