Pink Chicks?

At the training center where we stayed in Tanzania, they help support their ministry by running a chicken farm. Now, there's nothing unusual about that, except for the fact that all the little baby chicks are PINK! I know, crazy, right?! I have multiple theories...

Theory #1 - They mate the hens with male flamingos, thus making these hybrid little "chickingos" or "flamickens."

Theory # 2 - They feed the little chicks with a steady diet of Pepto Bismol tablets. In related news, the chicks are found to be very "regular," if you know what I mean.




So what's your theory???

Chapati and Chips Mayai

Ok, so the best thing about being able to travel is getting to meet new people and learn about new cultures. But, in a close second, the next best thing is getting to try all kinds of awesome new foods! (Yes, the quickest way to my heart is through the stomach!). I ran across a couple new dishes in Tanzania that quickly stole my heart!

Cooking dinner over a fire.

This is chapati, and it's probably one of the best things to ever happen to my life! (I'm only slightly exaggerating). I suppose the best way to describe it for the North Americans out there is that it's like Africa's version of a burrito. You cook meat in a spicy sauce and wrap it up in a homemade tortilla-like wrap. Delicious...

And then there's chips mayai (the plate on the left). In short, it's basically a french fry omelette. How have these not caught on in the States yet? I mean, we are the kings of the greasiest, most unhealthy foods, right? Well, it really is a shame that we don't have these in America because they are SO good!

Taxis in Tanzania

If there's one thing I've learned from all my travels about taxis in the 3rd world, it's that safety is never as important as money. If the taxi driver has to drive like a maniac so that he can drive more routes in a day and make more money, then he will most certainly do that. And if a couple (or 20) more people can squeeze into the taxi, well then "come on in!"

After the weekend in Zanzibar, we took this taxi from Dar es Salaam back to Mlandizi, about a 2 hour drive. Our taxi, which could probably only seat 15 to 20 people, was packed like sardines with, I would guess, somewhere in the range of 40 to 50 people. It was crazy!

Unfortunately, Bhuti and I didn't get on in time to get a seat, so it was standing room only for about an hour and a half!

I was all smiles when, after about a dozen stops, I was finally able to sit down!

I'm An Uncle...Again!!!

On Wednesday, September 30th, a new little Cramer was brought into the world (and the world is a better place because of it!). Wesley James Cramer was born to my brother, David, and his wife, Andrea. Wesley is their first child and my second nephew! I'm pumped!

What a cute little guy!

The proud parents. Congrats, Dave and Ann!

The Rise of Islam

One of the things that surprised me about Tanzania, and particularly the island of Zanzibar, was the overwhelming presence of Islam there. In fact, the majority of the people in coastal Tanzania are Muslim, including more than 99% of the 1.2 million people in Zanzibar. That was very surprising to me. I knew that Islam was strong in Northern Africa, but I did not expect to find it to be so strong in East Africa.

From what I have been told, Christianity actually came to Zanzibar first, several centuries ago, but "conversion" at that time meant mostly just a name change. The Africans there were deemed "Christian" if, for example, they changed their name from Jabali, a traditional African name, to John, a "Christian" name. With very little change happening in their belief system, Zanzibar was easily transformed into an Islamic state when it was later taken over by Arabs. Although Zanzibar is now part of the United Republic of Tanzania, a free state, it continues to be dominated by Islam. And while it is not illegal to be a Christian there, the believers in Zanzibar still face a great deal of persecution.

I think this picture symbolizes the unfortunate shift in belief systems in Zanzibar. On the right is an old, archaic church, now literally serving as a museum. On the left is a mosque, alive and active and at the center of society.

Even with the intense tropical heat, the Muslim women follow strict dress codes.

A man wearing a typical Muslim outfit.

We spent the weekend with the pastor of this church. It was the only active Christian church that I saw while in Zanzibar.

Please pray that the Spirit of God would break through in this spiritually dark place! Also, pray for the believers there as many of them face persecution daily!

Hittin' the Beach

A weekend on a tropical island like Zanzibar would not have been complete without a trip to the beach! Bhuti, Biggie, and I found one of the few spots on the coast that wasn't built up with fancy resorts, and we spent the morning swimming and exploring there. We had a blast!

The tide was very low that morning.

Bhuti and Biggie looking for starfish.

Ek is a groot grot man! In Afrikaans, that means "I'm a big caveman!"

If they did a sequel to the movie Castaway, I think I could give Tom Hanks a run for his money!

Found one!

Fish Market

Another one of the highlights from our weekend in Zanzibar was the fish market. Every night, right on the ocean in the historic city of Stone Town, there is an outdoor fish market where you can mix-and-match many different seafood dishes--from shark kabobs, to octopus, and anything in-between--and create your own meal. The vendors, all locals, then cook your meal right in front of you. It was quite an experience, and the food was delicious!

The outdoor fish market, with dozens of different vendors.

Octopus tentacles...gross!

I preferred the fish-kabobs. The shark was amazing!

New Blog Header

After more than a year with the same blog header, I decided that maybe it was time for a change. Hope you like it!

Snapshots of Zanzibar

Like many tropical islands in the third world, the coast in Zanzibar is covered mostly with beautiful beaches and fancy resorts. But that's not the real Zanzibar; that's not the reality for most people there. With these pictures, I tried to capture a little bit of what Zanzibar is really like. Enjoy.

Slave Market in Zanzibar

Our next stop in Zanzibar was to the famous slave market. Apparently, Zanzibar was home to the 2nd largest slave trade in Africa back in the 1800s. It was also the last open slave market in the world. In this market, slaves from East and Central Africa were bought and sold. It finally closed down by decree of the Sultan of Zanzibar in 1873, thanks in large part to the efforts to abolish the slave trade by the famous missionary, David Livingstone.

The following year, in 1874, Bishop Edward Steere had this Cathedral built at the exact site of the slave market. The high altar inside the Cathedral marks the place of the old slave whipping post, and the tiles there at the altar are symbolically red, marking the blood that flowed from the backs of the slaves.

Underneath the church there is still a small old room where the slaves were packed until they were put up for sale. Many slaves died in this room from sickness and disease, while the "prize" for the survivors was being taken in a ship to a foreign land, where they would work forced labor until their deaths. Bhuti and Biggie thought it would be ironically funny if they tied the white man up in the slaves' chains. I was a good sport about it...

This piece of art depicts how the slaves where tied together by chains at the neck and made to walk hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles to the slave markets. It was a sobering reminder of an ugly time in the history of mankind.

Spice Farm

Our first stop in Zanzibar was back into the jungle to a spice farm. Apparently Zanzibar is very famous for their spices. They produce many of the spices that we use in cooking (ie. cinnamon, black pepper, ginger, saffron, etc.), as well as spices used for medicinal purposes and different aloes used in our soaps and lotions. Being the alpha male that I am, I was a little skeptical about going to a spice farm, but it actually turned out to be a lot of fun.

Driving through the jungle back to the spice farm.

Our tour guide quickly climbed up a tree to pick us some coconuts. Notice he's showing off in this picture, climbing up with only his hands!

Inside these coconuts was not milk like I anticipated. It was actually a very sweet water, which Bhuti and I enjoyed.

We then had some fun trying on a few accessories made from the palm leaves.

Bhuti, Biggie, and Me.

King of the Jungle!

Weekend in Zanzibar

With no classes to teach on the weekend in Tanzania, Bhuti, Biggie, and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to see Zanzibar, an island off the coast of Tanzania (see map on the left). To give you a brief history lesson, Zanzibar was formerly its own island country. First, in the 7th century, it was an Arab state. It later passed into the hands of the Portuguese, then to the British, and finally back to the Arabs in 1963. However, in 1964 the Sultan of Zanzibar was overthrown from power. At the same time, Tanzania (then known as Tanganyika), had been colonized by the Germans, then passed on to British rule until 1962, when Tanganyika became an independent republic, with Julius Nyerere as President. After the Sultan of Zanzibar was overthrown in 1964, the two independent states combined to make one state: the United Republic of Tanzania. Interesting stuff.

I digress...

So, we decided to go check out this crazy Arab/Portuguese/British/African island called Zanzibar. We took a boat out to the island, which looked like a yacht from the outside, while the inside looked more like the cabin of an airplane. It was to take nearly 2 hours to reach Zanzibar. The cabin got hot and stuffy quickly, so Biggie and I retreated to the upper deck of the ship. There, we met a few Muslim guys who were studying IT (Information Technology) in Uganda but were traveling on holiday to Zanzibar (you seriously meet the most interesting people when you travel).

For over an hour, we had quite an interesting conversation with these guys about Jesus. They were very hung up on the Trinity, thinking that the Trinity meant that Christians worship three gods. They also had some very interesting beliefs about Jesus. For instance, they believed that at the last minute God replaced Jesus on the cross with another man who only looked like Jesus. The real Jesus, then, still has to come back and live on earth for 40 years, at which point he will die. I had never heard that theory before.

I asked them to share with me everything about their god, Allah. So, they did, and then they asked me about my God. I walked them through creation, the fall, separation from God, the need for a Savior, all the way up to Jesus himself--his death and, more importantly, his resurrection (which I contrasted with Mohammed, who is still in the grave). The guys listened intently, and we had a great discussion, but, in the end, we agreed to disagree. One of them, not knowing my vocation, actually said, "You'd make a great preacher. I believe that you will someday become a Muslim and be a great preacher of Islam." Not exactly the response I was looking for, but I shook their hands and told them that even though they don't believe the way I do, I still consider them friends. And I do. It was weird walking away from those guys, troubled by the state of their souls, but knowing that there was nothing more I could do. It was their choice, and fighting with them, like so many Muslims and Christians throughout history have done (and even still do today), was simply not the answer. I will likely never see them again, but they are in God's hands now. It will have to be a work of His Spirit to guide them to the Truth (I suppose it's always that way, isn't it?).

Biggie chatting with our new Muslim friends on the boat to Zanzibar.

A view of Zanzibar from the ship.

Welcome to Zanzibar!

Little Kiddos

Everywhere I go, I enjoy spending time with the little kiddos. Here are some of the local kids from Mlandizi, as well as some of the young boys who live in the MUAC orphanage.

Sports: A Universal Language

I've been pleasantly surprised to find that in many African countries English is widely spoken, especially by the youth. Tanzania, however, was an exception to this rule. Swahili is their official language, and while English is now being introduced in many schools, it has still not taken root as much as in other parts of Africa. So, I was forced to quickly pick up some Swahili if I wanted to communicate with a lot of the youth I spent time with. In their broken English and my broken Swahili, we were able to communicate...sort of. Here's an example of a short conversation I had with one teenage boy:

Me: Who's your favorite basketball player?

Boy: I 14 years old.

Okay, so it didn't take too long to realize that we really weren't communicating. So, we scrapped that conversation and decided to try a more universal language: sports.

I don't care what you say, foosball is a sport...and it's awesome!

Basketball was also a big hit!

Barefoot basketball on an eight-foot hoop. Good times.

That's the thing I love about sports--they are the universal language. I was able to connect with these youth so much more through sports than I would have been able to through broken conversation (see conversation above). Through sports, I believe God has given us an incredible opportunity to connect different cultures around the world and to reach young people for Christ. For you sports lovers out there, ask yourself this question:

How can I use my love for sports to expand God's kingdom and impact lives for Christ?

My African Initiation (aka Malaria)

It seems like almost every week, something I do makes someone say, "Now you are officially an African!" Some weeks it was cooking over a fire. Others it was using a "long drop" toilet or, better yet, no toilet at all out in the bush. Well, this past week, unfortunately, I became an "official" African by getting malaria.

I knew going into the trip that Tanzania was a hot-spot for malaria, especially along the coast where we were staying. So I took all the necessary precautions. I had mosquito repellent. I even slept inside a mosquito net, which added to the already uncomfortable heat of East Africa. But, alas, none of this was enough to keep the little monsters from feasting on my blood.

Two weeks into my trip, I woke up one morning and could not for the life of me get out of bed. I was running a fever, and my head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. All I could do was just lay there. I was supposed to teach class that day and also preach at a youth group that night, but all of those plans were scratched. Luckily, my friend Biggie was smart enough to know right away that it was malaria. So, within about 6 hours from my first symptoms, I was at the nearest hospital getting proper treatment and medication. Now, I use the term "hospital" very loosely, as it was really just a few Catholic nuns running a clinic at their convent, but nevertheless, they got me the right medication and I've been feeling better ever since. I'm told from others who have had malaria that I had it relatively easy compared to what I might have experienced.

My mosquito-proof bed.

I'm all smiles after the nun tells me that I'm going to be alright.

A couple days ago, I was talking to Thabo, a friend of mine from a township in South Africa. When Thabo heard that I had gotten malaria, like so many others he patted me on the back like a proud father and said, "Well, you're officially an African now!" I looked at Thabo and asked, "So how many times have you had malaria?" His reply was priceless: "Oh, well, I've never had malaria, but...." Well, Thabo, I guess I'm more of an African than you now!