Traveling with a different perspective

By 2015 Shepherd of the Valley Traveler Bobbie Bainbridge

I grew up in Tanzania, my parents were missionaries there for 25 years, and going back was naturally quite a different experience for me than for my fellow travelers.

When you’ve grown up in a country, you become familiar with it.  Some of the special aspects of it become ordinary.  And so, I hesitated to take this trip. I really wondered how I could have the same exhilarating experience that so many others have had from Shepherd of the Valley.  I knew I would not see the actual area where I grew up and so I did not expect to feel like I was back home. 

But I did decide the time was right and joined the second group in August of this year.  And as we traveled, I was immediately enamored with the sights and smells and sounds that enveloped me.  And I found my own intensely wonderful experience unfolding the very moment we stepped off the plane in Dar es Salaam.

I picked this first picture to depict how little things, mundane, and unexciting, brought memories flooding back. On one memorable Christmas, as a child, we used a similar thorn bush for our Christmas tree.  We thought the natural ball-like things on it would only add to the Christmas tree decorations.  Well, soon we found ants in the house…everywhere.  They were pouring out of those bulbous growths where, unbeknownst to us, they lived.

A few more pictures that oddly struck me with vivid memories and nostalgia…..

The terrain and rocky hill similar to places where we lived and enjoyed many hikes.

The dust rising in the distance as the cows were driven home in the evenings. 

Being invited inside the smoke-filled huts to drink chai, our family all packed into one dark room. 

Little boys herding the goats in the dry scrubby bush or what we called “pori”

We never ate these little yellow fruit ….we just threw them at each other.

Bridges that were barely passable when the water rose in the rainy season, but during the dry season, the river beds made for good hiking and exploring

The cool, lacy acacia trees providing a canopy overhead from the hot mid-day sun and the dry sandy soil underneath

Little children, their faces covered with the dry dust of their environment, often only a slightly older sibling caring for many…and as always, a baby on her back.   

The language!  Music to my ears!!  I was never very good at speaking Swahili…and this bothered me growing up…but on this trip it came back to me in phrases and words and sometimes whole sentences.  Of course when I wanted a specific word, it would elude me….but I was graciously encouraged to keep trying.  My father, who is 94, told me before I left on the trip… “Greet them and don’t be afraid to tell them about us.”  And so, I wrote this greeting while on one of our bumpy bus rides. 

I felt such joy as I greeted these gracious people and told them about my family and especially my mom and dad

And then… I was filled with humility and new courage as I watched my fellow travelers.  They were undaunted in facing new experiences.  They reached out and no language barrier kept them from doing so. 

And their enthusiasm for everything…even paper made of elephant dung.

As missionary kids, we grew tired of always being on stage and often tried to ignore the gawking attention of the African children. Now, I saw my companions respond to such intense inspection with only appreciation, calling out greetings with unflagging enthusiasm to every child on the side of the road.

The excitement of my companions in the game park….It was more fun for me than even seeing the animals

I will never forget these two lovely ladies who joined us on our trip into Ruaha Game Park.  They did not speak any English and often our attempts to communicate were quite hilarious …..  I will remember the good humor and laughter that we shared back and forth, but even more the effort made by my Shepherd of the Valley companions to include them wholeheartedly.

Asifiwe – meaning “Praise” excuded a joyful spirit!

The beautiful color of hardy bougainvillea even during the dusty, drab, dry seasons. They represent to me the resilience you see in the people of this country.

Our last Sunday as all the pastors led us in worship…

After the auction, dressed in the beautiful outfit that our sisters of Tungamalenga Parish gave me, I raised the bananas (I had bid for) to rest on top of my head….and I felt crowned with the blessedness of having grown up in this beautiful country and now having returned.

Returning home had a whole new meaning: the gift of God’s unimaginable grace.  My cup overflowed with the joy of this gift of being back in Tanzania, the place of my birth…. But, more than anything, with the gift of being a part of the greater family of God.