Words from Tanzania

Another experience here in Same town in northeast Tanzania during my last days as missionary caught me by surprise, again. A funeral burial service for a respected member of the community, Mr. Noel a retired ELCT Pare Diocese driver whose son Elidaima Noel is working as a Field Coordinator with our Global Fund Most Vulnerable Children project. I did not attend the church service as I had other commitments, but I arrived 5 minutes prior to the car with the body pulling up to the grave site. As I walked closer to the site, trying to protect my head from the boiling sun and my eyes from the blowing dust, I passed groups of women in their colorful kangas, men in their slacks and collared shirts, and the church choir which was assembling.
I met so many folks there who I knew; even I was taken by how I had come to know this community and country in various ways. I was approached by a former student who lives in Iringa where Lori and I served at Tumaini University from 2004-2006 and then a phone and electronics expert who I met in Dar es Salaam during those days at Tumaini. I shook hands with Hezron, the respected diocese watchman, Giliad, the director of the ELCT Compassion Intl, Mr. Nasinda, a Lutheran and hardware shop owner, shared a few words with Magreth, my neighbor and wife of Pr. Mshana who at that time was in Iowa, a young clothes shop owner, Frank, and another diocese worker, Christopher who knew Mr. Noel very well and whose daughter Agnes attended an Easter party at our house in 2006. I nodded to my friend Omari, a Muslim and assistant soccer coach who was standing on the other side of the grave, dressed in full Islamic worship attire. It was puzzling, and I thought of how the deceased had so many friends from all over Tanzania, and he was not a politician, pastor or businessman, but just a diocese driver for most of his career. I did not know this man, never met him, but now know his son very well.
I’ve been to enough funerals in the States to know that when an older person dies, many times the funeral is attended by just a few people. When a younger person dies, the church can be packed with mourners. Here in Tanzania, when an older person dies, it is a family and community event, and the occasion can halt business, travel and other commitments. I like that part of this culture, and I was moved by the support of the community.

After prayers and songs, the casket was lowered into the grave and the young men shoveled the loose dirt, the choir singing the entire 25 minutes until the work was done. A few more prayers and it was accomplished, Mr. Noel had been laid to rest by the community.