It has come to my attention that in our previous posts, we might have scared away some potential visitors. Unfortunately, this notification came right as I was about to publish a post on crime and safety. After much internal debate, I have decided to shelve the safety post for now and instead, shed light on our weekend activities. But not to worry…I’ll get a chance to scare our visitors again in the near future.
The Goat Races. Because we live in a large expatriot community, charity events occur fairly regularly. We happened to arrive in time for Dar’s biggest charity event, the annual goat races, which took place this past weekend. The goat races consist of donors who buy the goats and spectators who bet on the goats. The whole operation is similar to a horse race, but as you might guess, a little less highbrow. And, unlike horses, goats do not have a whole lot of interest in moving fast, so they require encouragement from a mob of boys who spur them on from behind. My camera could not capture the priceless expressions of these clueless goats as they were running around the track.
Island Hopping. On the weekends, we have also enjoyed island hopping and beaching. When we went to Bongoyo Island, there were no more than 30 people there, so you can imagine that it was a relaxing place to read, swim and snorkel. The only real excitement was getting to the island via the ferry that docks across from our house. I use the term “dock” loosely, as it took 3 boats to get us there and we had to jump out into choppy water and wade to shore. There were no life jackets, which was a problem for the guy who could not swim (and also the girl who fell out of the boat).
On a subsequent trip, we learned to take a private boat from the yacht club. That boat was much faster, had life jackets, and generally seemed sturdier.
Sundays. For the past four Sundays, we have been on the hunt for a good church. We think we have found one. While there is a large Muslim population in Dar, there are a good number of Christians as well. Unfortunately, most of the churches are Swahili-speaking and we don’t yet know the words for “Jesus” and “salvation.” We’ll get there.
IBC is a small, faithful congregation of both locals and internationals. They wasted no time in getting us involved. Matt is playing guitar next week in the worship ensemble and I am supposed to teach sunday school. Yikes. And perhaps after that, we’ll get around to actually joining.