May 4, 2003

Dear friends,

Alleluia! Alleluia! Not only am I celebrating the resurrection of Christ and wishing you all a Happy Easter, but I am also celebrating the joy of the resurrection of my e-mail service! The travelogue drought is officially over, so let me get right to it!

First let me offer you Part II in my series “The Birds of Africa.” Today let me talk a bit about owls. I can’t spend much time describing how they look because they only really come out at night. Just at dusk they begin to swoop about, very low, and very silently. All night long they hunt, but of course at that time you can’t see them.

Actually we have a rather surprisingly large owl population on campus. It turns out that the architect inadvertently created the perfect owl habitat in our church steeple. So we have many owls year round. Now, you might think it is a very good thing to boast the presence of owls on a college campus, being the bird we associate with wisdom. But no! Actually, in the folklore of the local culture, the owl is greatly feared and hated. Like snakes and chameleons, owls are to be stoned and driven away on sight. Why? Because they are associated with death. If an owl perches on your roof you are sure to be visited at least by sickness if not by death. To have them roost near your home is an unmitigated disaster. So bragging about having owls nesting in our church steeple doesn’t exactly inspire confidence with the locals.

In addition, they are very raucous, especially in the few months after the chicks hatch but before they learn to fly. I don’t know if our owls are technically screech owls, but the name fits. Just at dusk the chicks begin to screech, and they keep it up all night long. I am given to understand that their calls incite the parents to hunt. Those same cries incite us to murder, but the niche created for them by our architect is just too well protected. So we must learn to live together, despite our various cultures, likes and dislikes. Just like life. So much for the birds.

As for me, I am fine. For some unknown reason my health remains very good. The few kilos I put on visiting Rome in January have vanished again, so I am in my “lean and mean” phase. With the arrival of five newly-professed scholastics in December, I have begun intensive English classes to prepare them for school in September. We call them “pre-philosophers.” They are fine young men, very sociable! I am also teaching 2 courses this semester, homiletics (preaching) and “Confessions of St. Augustine.” Just now I am preparing a number of retreats and workshops I am scheduled to give over the summer vacation. So I am keeping busy.

My “summer break” (mid June to Sept. 1) will be spent traveling. In July I plan to visit a number of our scholastics on home leave. This trip will last about one month and take me to the far Northwest corner of Tanzania in the area of Lake Victoria, somewhere I have never been before. For anyone with a map, this great circle-tour will go from Morogoro, to Dodoma to Itigi, to Singida to Shinyanga to Mwanza to Ukerewe Island, to Bukoba to Kigoma to Tabora and then back to Morogoro. This anyway is the plan, but we shall see what actually happens.

August will see the second great circle-tour, this time in the south of Tanzania where I hope to visit our scholastics working in parishes and other apostolates. This trip will begin in Dar. From there I will fly to Mafia Island (yes, Mafia) and then come back to Dar. From there I hope to take a ship down to Mtwara and from there travel across the south visiting various houses in Ndanda, Masasi, Nakapanya, and Namiungo. Then it’s up to the Benedictine monastery in Peramiho to give a second 5-day retreat and then back to Morogoro via Songea to resume school in September. Again we shall see “what God wishes.”

Finally a local color story. The other day we had a wonderful visit from two our confreres from Rome. One of them, a confrere from the USA Province who will go unnamed, had it in mind to have a white Salvatorian habit made for himself. He planned to use it as an alb when he said Mass. [For all of you post-Vatican II Catholics or neo-pagan friends, a “habit” is a long, loose gown, like a very plane, rather formless dress. No buttons, no outside pockets, no collar to speak of. Around the middle we tie a knotted rope called a cincture. I don’t expect these to regain their place on the fashion charts back home any time soon.]

Anyway, this fashion conscious (but unnamed) priest was eager that this new habit should be serious--made of a material heavy enough to insure that whatever his t-shirt was advertising could not be seen or read through the habit. Unfortunately this meant a trip into Morogoro city center. So off we went (the three of us) armed with a swatch of white material for a sample.

Now shopping in general, and certainly shopping in Africa is not one of my strengths. I was not even sure where to find fabric, and I sure don’t know the vocabulary. But after stumbling around in one or two stores with no luck I hit upon a great idea! Based on my growing knowledge of local culture, I instructed these two friends simply to stroll with me semi-aimlessly and semi-befuddled looking up a busy market street while I held the swatch of material rather conspicuously in my hand. My strategy was to wait for someone to have pity on us...after all they certainly couldn’t miss the three of us or help wondering what we were up to.

And it worked like a charm. Before we finished even the first promenade, a man in a sewing shop called us over, offered us a seat in the shade, and asked what we needed. No, he didn’t have it, but he immediately called a friend, who new a guy who knew a guy. “Just sit tight” he said. And sure enough, in 5 minutes his friend was back, and off we all went to find the material. Of course it was just what we were looking for, in a place we never could have found alone, at a price we couldn’t beat. The whole transaction ended with many thanks, a small tip, and everyone was happy.

Lesson: here in Africa, humility works. Sometimes just looking pathetic can do wonders (like the pineapple-slingshot man). People are eager to help, if you let them do it in their own way. Sometimes it’s just difficult to know how to ask, and to be open and trusting enough to let people help you in their own unique way. Maybe it is the same everywhere, mutatis mutandis.

So there you have had a nature story, a glimpse into my life (such as it is) and a bit of local culture. I hope you enjoyed it.

I think you all know that I am not scheduled for home leave this year. But it is possible I may have two trips to Rome, one quick formators’ meeting in November, and the historical meeting again in January. So if you are planning to visit me in Africa this will be a good time. I am here.

I also want to take this opportunity to thank any and everyone who has been kind enough to send something to my project fund. Your kindness enables me to do many small but important things...school fees, dictionaries, medicine, emergency travel, “small business loans,” sports equipment, computer supplies, occasional celebrations... all the things that make life worth living. On behalf of all those you have helped I say thank you so very much. In case you lost the address, it’s Fr. Dan’s Project Fund, c/o Fr. Eric, SDS, 1735 Hi Mount Blvd., Milwaukee, WI 53208. But prayers and good wishes are really more important. That is what I count on most, and that is what I send each and everyone of you. Love,

Fr. Dan