RSS feedExtravagance
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Steve & Susan Vinton
Village Schools International
Box 1929 Tomball Texas 77377
January 25, 2010
The meal was without question an extravagance -- and even though I knew it was an extravagance, an outrageous extravagance even, I was so tired and so hungry that I found myself simply savoring every bite. The chicken was perfectly cooked, the spices delicate and wonderful, the rice had been specially prepared, I ate slowly, the conversation was wonderful around the table, there was a lot of food, and it was good food, and I was enjoying myself. But in my heart I knew that this was not where we were supposed to be.
We're a lean organization -- and we're known for that here in Tanzania. No one in Village Schools Tanzania gets what is known here in Tanzania as a "night allowance" -- instead we stay in the homes of our teachers, we eat just regular food, and if we can't make it to a village, we normally just stay in cheap hotels that cost a couple of dollars, or in church guest houses, and it is our custom to just eat at the cheapest of the restaurants. We're cheap -- frugal I guess is the kinder word -- but I'm not embarrassed or ashamed that we don't spend a lot of money. Our object is a simply one -- to spend as little money as possible on what is not important, so that money can be spent on what is important -- metal roofing, cement, desks, girls going to school. Everywhere we can save even a little money we do.
And yet here we were in the newest and fanciest hotel in the city of Mbinga, dining on a superbly cooked meal, totally delicious in all ways. It had happened to us not by any design of ours that's for sure! It was nothing that we had planned, and yet all explanations aside, the fact remained that we were sitting in this fine restaurant, eating delicious food, and the bill I knew in my heart was going to be simply a lot of money. It wasn't supposed to have happened this way. We had left at a little after seven in the morning, but the trip across the country had simply been long, and then on top of it all, it had started raining, the road was muddy, and it became clear that there was the risk that we would get to Mbinga and it would be too late to get any food at all, of any kind. And so Godfrey called ahead to our good friend Hyera and told him that that we were still an hour or more away from the city, and he was afraid that by the time we got there, all of the restaurants in town would either be closed or wouldn't have enough food left for all of us, and we were all hungry. And so we drove on, content in the knowledge that Hyera would arrange to make sure that somewhere in town there would be a restaurant that would have saved us some food.
As hungry as I was though, I knew when we showed up that we were in the wrong place. And when they brought the wonderful feast to the table -- so wonderfully prepared with nice delicate spices -- I felt a bit out of place. We had stumbled into eating at the kind of place where we don't eat. I thoroughly enjoyed the food, we had fantastic conversation, we all enjoyed ourselves, it was a wonderful evening.
And then when we got in the car, I dared finally to ask Godfrey how much it had cost us. Hyera wouldn't let me pay Mzee. I didn't know what to say. He said to tell you welcome back to Tanzania. It was an unthinkable extravagance! We still had two more hours to get to the village where we would sleep but his act of extravagant sacrificial generosity was all that I could think of as I slipped in and out of sleep over the bumpy roads to the village of Maguu. It was after midnight when we arrived and I fell asleep I think within minutes of hitting the bed and I woke up late the next morning, but this act of extravagant generosity was all that was on my mind even then.
Hyera never ceased to tell me every time we passed through the town of Mbinga how thankful he was that we had worked with the people of his village of Maguu to build a school. He always received us with a smile, with joy, his wife was always exceedingly kind to us, everywhere he used his influence to cause government officials in the town to be helpful to us, he convinced businessmen in town to give us discounts, he had other businessmen let us use their store rooms to store our construction materials, he has given of himself over the last three years in ways big and small, an effort upon which it would be impossible to place any kind of monetary value. I remember telling him once that all we are doing, we are able to do because of the gifts of people and churches and school kids in America who want kids in Africa to get a chance at an education, who want them to get a good quality education, who want them to hear the gospel, to learn to improve their lives. And that every dollar he saved us through all of his hard work meant that the dollar could be used to buy cement and metal roofing for other schools in other villages. I remember once telling him how much I appreciated his kindness to our teachers -- our Tanzanian teachers anytime they had to come to town, our missionary teachers every time they had to pass through. He has without a doubt been one of the most significant of those who have given of themselves to help us stretch every dollar people give to do more than we could normally imagine.
What our friend did was an extravagant gift of total kindness. It won't mean that one more child will go to school, it won't result in an extra classroom being built, and yet somehow knowing all of his reasons for doing it, I have to believe that the extravagance was pleasing to the heart of God. And I learned something through what he did. I looked back in my life at the times when I've been extravagantly kind -- and I smiled as I remembered a few of those magical moments in life when I had actually done something extravagant for someone else -- and yet all I could think of then was that I wished that somehow I had been lavishly extravagant a few more times than I have. My friend Hyera spent his money on something wonderful that night -- something far more than just a wonderful dinner.
