Hakuna kama wewe

I began this blog post in Tanzania a while ago, but got busy enjoying our last bit of time we had there to complete it. So I'm a little behind, but here it is...

I was really glad that we got to experience what it's like to go on a first visit to a village. The church in Katoro has built up relationship with a new church in another nearby village called Miti Mirefu and they asked if Brett would come teach a bible seminar. Ezekiel, the church leader from Katoro, is mentoring the leader of this new church. Richard is only 22 years old and wanted to start up a church in his community since the next closest non-Catholic church was miles and miles away. Part of what the first visit to a village entails is seeing how receptive the people are to studying the Word and desiring to be obedient in their lives. We were studying 1 Peter 2 about how Christ is the cornerstone of the house, whereby the whole house is measured, and a house built off of anything else will not function as a house should. Typically in the villages where African traditional religion influences their mindset, a house will be built on other things like ancestors, or teachers, or even dancing. Later when talking about the parable of the seeds (Matthew ??) they discussed how ones roots can not be divided into two soils- thus a tree can not grow and thrive when split between two different sources of life. A few of the women recognized that they can not hold onto both the truth of Christ's redemption and also the traditional belief of trusting ancestors and witch doctors for healing. I really enjoyed seeing this church eager to learn, even if they were hesitant at first. We finally learned one of the most popular Swahili worship songs and it was stuck in my head for days (Dad likes to call this an earworm. It exists) It goes like this: “Baba wa binguni, hakuna kama wewe” = “Father in Heaven, there is no one like you” Aaaand now it's right back in my head. Could be worse though. It could be Miley Cyrus.

One day Katie, Gunnar and I visited an NGO in the area called Anamed. Its name stands for “Action for Natural Medicine”, not “Andrea's Ambiguous Edibles” like you may have expected. It provides herbal medicine and treatments for common African illnesses, gives education on health and medicine, sells patients' products to help them afford treatment, and does it all in acknowledgement of God's glory revealed in his creation. It was really cool to see all the practical ways to use the plant resources that are available in Tanzania to help treat malaria and HIV, the most common health problems in this area. Also she pointed out how they use similar treatments that the witch doctors sometimes use to show how God, not Satan, created the earth in a way that provides healing and care for his people. One tree we learned called the Moringa tree is known as the Miracle tree, because it grows throughout the year and its leaves are incredibly nutritious (In my head I imagined it as the Giving Tree. Or Grandmother Willow from Pocahontas. Not the Womping Willow though.)

We got to work in the fast food industry here in Geita. And when I say fast, I mean fast for the customers. Not for the cooks. One day us girls helped a woman in town prepare lunch all morning to sell to people who work in the main market. It's a genius idea and her food was the best I've had in Tanzania. They seemed to enjoy teaching us how to do everything, including how to ask "Do you want rice with that?"

Later that weekend we went to pick up the boys from bonding in Bupondwa and go to church with them there. It was our last visit to a village church, and the Lord made it one to remember. Not just because Brett made a skip-bo out of trash or because it rained so much that it leaked through the roof. First of all I got to see spend more time with Rachel and her wonderful family. She even agreed to let me come spend a day with her later in the week. Even as the rain was causing everyone to get wet, they insisted we keep learning about the bible and enthusiastically sang and danced in worship. We all laughed a lot that day- them laughing at us attempting to dance and us laughing at them laughing at us attempting to dance. We also amused ourselves with puns that came from discovering a chicken had fallen into the choo (a toilet that's really just a hole in the ground). Apparently someone had an egg-stremely unfortunate fowl movement. Or, for my Swahili-speaking friends, a "haji kuku-bwa." Not sure if the poor chick lived, but if he didn't it would give a new meaning to die-arrhea*. (Don't worry, that's the last one). It was a long day, but I don't think any of us wanted to leave by the end.

*Some credit is due to the other interns and Brett for these puns

Poker? I don't even know her!

You may be confused about the title of this blog for two reasons: you wouldn't expect missionaries to encourage gambling or you don't have my dad's sense of humor. To clarify, we did indeed gamble, but only to decide who would have to wash all the dishes. And my dad is the funniest man I know. I'm not usually such a flatterer (Flatterer? I don't even know her!)

While we're on the subject of playing unexpected games with the missionaries, I feel the need to confess that we also played quarters one night... I've never seen people drink so much in one sitting in my life. Water that is. Nor have I known someone to get up 16 times in the night to go to the bathroom. Good news was that it hydrated me enough to survive the 7 mile cross country run/hike through the hills (and prickly plants) of Geita with Brett and Gunnar the next morning. It was one of my favorite adventures we've had here. Partly because it was the first time we've seen Brett scared. With good reason- he saw a giant, probably poisonous snake on path. We all survived and got to enjoy God's creation midst the tiring journey.

Another one my favorite adventures in Geita was when the Groen girls took Brooke and I and some of the kids from Neema house on a walk to a spring near their house. The bigger adventure was helping bathe all the kids when we got back. I admire the patience of all the house mamas after doing that. Trying to keep track of nine kids under the age of 4 while half of them want to play in the tub and the others just want to get out is not an easy task. Those women sure know what they're doing.

One day last week the gold mine school invited us to have lunch with them to thank us for putting on the tennis camp. 10 year-old Rachel came out again and got to play on the monkey bars and see-saw with the kids. I even tried to teach them a little frisbee which was somewhat successful. One girl named Jahsgreat (pronounced Jazz-great. Or Jazz-grate...) became my pal and helped teach me a little Swahili. She's not the first person to ask to come back to America with me, so mom I hope you're okay with having lots of visitors.

There is a church that meets right outside Neema House that we went to this last week. Calvin works more with this church than Brett does and some of his workers even go to it. It was nice to see some familiar faces. Especially to see them all sing and dance in praise without speakers getting in the way. Unfortunately this church feels the need to raise money to buy speakers before they can invite another church from the area to join them for worship. The missionaries hope to help them see that the church in scripture is a group of people who meet together regularly to hear the Word and encourage each other to be obedient to it. So with or without speakers, they can take the opportunity to share in this purpose with another church. Us (We?) interns talked more about this while looking at how the pharisees chose to follow tradition over obeying God's commands (in Matthew 15). I think we run into this just as much if not more so in American churches when we become obedient to norms and expectations instead of being obedient to The Lord. Being the hands and feet of God is not a set routine of church attendance and acts of service, but a life of knowing and loving our God. Only then will we desire to meet with other believers and to serve others in love. Even when loving them goes against tradition. If you haven't seen the original Les Miserables-with Liam Neesin- you must. I myself haven't seen the new musical, but I can imagine it is an equally beautiful displayer of grace (displayer? I don't even know her!)

Baby Yoshua

Last Sunday Brett got a call from the preacher at Bupwanda telling him that his daughter Rachel’s child had passed away. This was the same girl I mentioned in a previous blog (Wiki nne) who is my age and who I had felt closest to in a village. We don’t know why the baby died, just that it was very sudden. They asked that we go with the whole family and the body back to Bupandwa for the funeral, so Brett, Dustin and I picked everyone up at Rachel and her husband’s home and set out for the village. Here I was, unsure of how much pain she was in. Unsure if she doubted God’s goodness. Unsure if even a hug was appropriate. Unsure if a smile would at all be comforting. Unsure if she was also amazed that it poured rain in the middle of dry season on the day of the funeral. Unsure of what to do in a roomful of mourning women. Unsure if Rachel knew all the people from nearby villages who came to give their condolences. Unsure why I was honored to sit with her family during the funeral. Unsure why just a few weeks earlier Dustin and I were astounded that baby Yoshua calmly laid in my lap the whole two hour bumpy ride to Bupandwa. Unsure why God orchestrated everything to happen like it happened. But sure that He did. And sure that He tells us BLESSED are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. And sure that “The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.” 1 Corinthians 15:42-44

Bukoba Getaway

Last week we got to explore more of Tanzania and once again saw how green the rest of the country is compared to Geita. Calvin took us interns on a survey trip to an area north of Geita called Bukoba in the Sengerema region. The purpose of a survey trip is to research a particular area to see the need for future missionaries to move there and to observe its living situations. On the road there, we saw a troop/herd/gaggle? of Vervet monkeys- I don’t know about you, but to me that’s an immediate draw to move to Bukoba (although I did see 20+ baboons while running the other day in Geita, so future missionaries should take that into consideration). Another draw would be the two “western” hotels up on a hill overlooking Lake Victoria which both serve delicious Indian food.  Not to mention the Lake Victoria “beach”, complete with sand, waves, and popcorn salesmen. If nothing else, we’ve found a nice vacation spot.

What we ended up discovering about Bukoba town was that there was already a great church presence there, mostly Catholic and Lutheran. There were also many groups doing development work in the area. We interviewed the regional manager from World Vision to get a sense of their success in reaching the surrounding region and people’s receptivity to their work. What I enjoyed most was actually seeing their work after hearing about it for years.

Since we knew enough about Bukoba town, we planned to drive inland into surrounding villages that were most likely unreached. On our drive up to Minziro, a village near the Ugandan border, our tire decided to go flat. Or Calvin decided to hit enough holes in the road to make it go flat. Either way, we had a flat tire. After breaking off two studs in an attempt to get the tire off, we eventually got our spare on and provided the local Tanzanians with a good fifteen minutes of entertainment. One of Calvin’s workers named Steven lived in Minziro and was our lovely tour guide for the trip. It’s polite in this culture to stop at every family member’s house, even just for a couple minutes. So first we stopped at Steven’s aunt’s house (I think) which was right next door to the primary and secondary schools. When they took us over to see the school, the kids came out and greeted us with a very well-rehearsed Tanzanian national anthem. Calvin thought it’d be funny to put us interns on the spot and told the headmaster we’d “beat the drums” (dance) for them. They took it literally and brought us a nice set of drums, fully expecting us to perform. We couldn’t disappoint, so we gave our best attempt at our national anthem. Most of the kids did a surprisingly good job of holding in their laughter, but some didn’t. I certainly didn’t.

After stopping by Steven’s uncle’s home to greet and interview him about their particular town, we eventually made it to Steven’s mom’s home. We have never been greeted with such enthusiasm nor heard that much joyful laughter in a village. Not to say we aren’t usually extremely welcomed in villages, but this was by far the most exuberant bunch. (We agreed that Brooke with her constant laughter would be right at home in Minziro) Not to mention they served us really good fruit and prayed for our safety before sending us out through the many banana and coffee trees back towards Bukoba. That night while eating dinner at the hotel, a lady from Sweden who was doing dentistry work in Bukoba came to join us at our table. It was neat to hear about her culture and see the Lord working through people from all over the world. As we were leaving the hotel we saw a bunch of fishermen’s lights out on the lake, and it looked like the floating lanterns from “Tangled”. It was kind of magical.

On our way out of town the next day, we stopped at the St. Nicholaus Orphanage to see an example of another NGO near Bukoba. I was pleasantly surprised to find that they had many kids with disabilities at their orphanage. Felt like home! It was obvious that these kids received good care and after talking to their intern from Germany, we found that the woman who opened the orphanage had provided the equipment and trained the workers on how to use it. They even made it possible for some of the kids who were capable to go to school with everyone else. As we were leaving, one of the little boys who was crawling around earlier strolled outside in his gait trainer to wave goodbye. A lot of me wished we could’ve stayed there forever, but it was time to leave the lush land of Sengerema and return to Geita in all its red dirt covered glory.

Village Life

We can all agree that there's no better way to understand a culture than to be immersed in it. I thought simply living in Geita accomplished this until I realized just how much deeper we could immerse ourselves (for some of us, that literally meant getting drenched with pond water, but for others it's simply a metaphor). Last weekend the girl interns spent three days and two nights in M'gwakiwasha, a small village about 30 minutes drive from Geita. Here we got to experience what they call "bonding". We each stayed at different homes and kind of became part of the family for a few days. At least that's what I hoped it would be like, but mostly we were their honored guests. So much that they would offer, nay, insist we take multiple baths a day. Nothing's as refreshing as a good ol' village basin bath. Thankfully mine was in privacy. Not all the girls can say that.

I stayed with Yohana, one of the evangelists in the church at M'gwakiwasha. He, his wife Salome, and about 6 of their 11 kids welcomed me in immediately by doing what they do best- serve food. Lots and lots of food. Tanzanians may not have as much variety as we do in the states, but what they do make, they make a whole lot of it. They fed me usually 3 times a day with so much chapattis, rice, beef and cooked cassava that I couldn't even come close to finishing. This is coming from the girl who easily finishes my meal along with everyone else's scraps back home. I was very thankful they did so much for me, but slightly disappointed at my stomach capacity. (Although it did improve over those 3 days)

Reading with Yohana and others in the village was one of things I enjoyed doing most. My limited knowledge of Swahili allows for some communication, but printed words helped to make things clearer and be able to learn together. Yohana and I went through a kids storybook bible describing every picture from Adam and Eve to Paul writing the letters (it broke the ice and honestly was a good refresher for me). His niece and her husband both liked reading the Swahili bible alongside the English translation with me. I loved discovering new words with them, especially when reading about creation. It's something we can all be in awe of.

When the people in the village have guests, they want them to simply rest and enjoy themselves, so sometimes they'd sit me in a chair to just watch. Soon they realized I liked to play with the kids and learn how they do things, so they let me play mpira (soccer) with little Deborah and Gideon and showed me different daily routines- mashing pigeon peas, washing clothes (or rather cloth- they only let me do one) cooking chapattis, milking a cow, and even moving a brick (again just one). The biggest job he let me help with was making a jiko. It's a small type of stove that Brett had showed him how to make earlier. Basically we used mud to form an "oven" that would contain heat from a small fire to better cook food in small pots called sufurias. The leftover mud became a twiga (giraffe) and timbo (elephant) for the kiddos to play with. If anything, this internship has refined my sculpting skills.

At one point, Yohana was showing me a verse that was written on his curtain that said "Siri ya Bwana". After trying to guess its meaning from Yohana's hand motions that suggested something was being hidden, we looked up Zaburi (Psalms) 25:14 and it read  "The Lord confides in those who fear him; he makes his covenant known to them". We always think the other way around, how we can confide in Him. Yet when we truly fear and trust Him alone, He "hides" his truths in our hearts and minds. He opens himself to us. He entrusts us with his gifts. It was so good to share this with Yohana even though we couldn't say it.

On Saturday Yohana, Deborah and I walked to another compound nearby where I met a girl named Esther who was 18 and who spoke really good English. This wasn't very common in this village. She said she attended a secondary school and was very curious about life in America. We talked for a while about what traveling was like, about why people don't typically have 10+ children like they do (which inevitably led to talking about of birth control...) about the president, about the classes I'm taking to be a physical therapist, about Christianity and even about capitalism. She seemed really motivated and eager to learn. Although I don't think it's best for her to leave her family and culture, I wouldn't be surprised if one day she made her way out America like she wants.

Later that evening Brooke, Katie and I got to reunite for a bit at their choir practice. They asked me to teach a lesson, and since I clearly can't communicate in much depth in Swahili, I simply struggled to read to them the passage about being the light of the world. Dancing with their choir was only slightly more successful. They asked Katie, Brooke and I to sing a song too, but when we didn't do a dance to "Revelation Song" they were kinda disappointed. They would've been more disappointed though if we had tried. At night when Yohana was teaching me the words for sun, moon, and stars, I explained to him that Earth was bigger than the mwezi (moon) and the jua (sun) was bigger than Earth, and some of the nyota (stars) were bigger than the jua. Trying to explain how the moon revolves around the earth which revolves around the sun was a little more complicated, but soon I realized  he understood as he explained it to his wife. It was cool that we could learn so much from each other, he a little about our solar system and me the basic knowledge of how to work to live. Like milking a cow and walking down the road to get water.

Sunday morning a little scuffling rat woke me up. Which is better than the seven rats that woke up Brooke. Brett and Christie and the kids came that morning for church, which was like most other Sundays in the village. Brett asked that the church split into four groups to study the passage on their own. It was cool because younger leaders had to step up to help their group read and study the passage for themselves. After taking many pictures, watching the choir perform, and eating our last village meal for the weekend, we packed up our new chickens in the car and waved goodbye to our African family.

Still stepping along

A lot has happened since the last time I wrote. And, for those of you who know me well, you know speedwriting is not a strong point of mine. In fact, I’d even call it a very weak point. There is so much I want to say though, so here goes post number 1…

Two Sundays ago, we went to a village called Katoro. Some of the interns had visited there the week before, but it was Dustin and my first time. The church was recently trying to raise money to build a new building and this week announced that they bought a plot right in the middle of their village. They didn’t raise enough money to build in town where they wanted, but apparently the Lord wanted it to be closer to the people of Katoro. On the drive there, Brett had asked us to pray for wisdom in responding to the church leader’s requests that required a lot of unnecessary help from the missionaries. Clearly He heard our prayers and answered them by showing Brett that the church leader didn’t seem to be concerned about these things, but instead asked a lot of really good questions about how to lead. One thing that we thought was interesting was his concern with the growth of large, showy choirs in Tanzania that seem to distract from pure worship focused in God’s word. It’s kind of similar to churches in America, where music in church can become a form of entertainment instead of a path to praise and crying out to God. This man saw it as a source of competition between churches in Tanzania to see who could draw in the most people with their choirs. It’s certainly good to sing praises as a body of Christ, and it’s also good that people will be drawn to that. But when the focus turns from our Lord to ourselves, we miss the point of worship. I also enjoyed seeing how well the church worked together to serve their own community. As a church they decided when the best day was to all start making bricks for their new building, and also when they could go visit a women in their village who gave birth to a stillborn child. Such a great example of serving one another humbly in love.

Last week Dustin (now known as Coach) taught a tennis camp for kids at the gold mine school. We were his helpers. It was quite entertaining watching 6 and 7 year olds attempt to use a tennis racket for the first time, and even more entertaining hearing them talk in their foreign accents. Some of them were from Australia, some from South Africa, and some even from New Zealand. Dustin adopted an Australian/Tanzanian accent whenever he was in coaching mode. By the end of the week they were tennis pros. Meaning they could hit the ball over the net 47% of the time. The other 53% they were having so much fun it didn’t matter. One of my favorite parts of camp: Dustin asked the kids “What is a camera used for?” expecting the answer to simply be “to take pictures.” But Lazi replied “It is used to catch thieves and robbers.” Good point Lazi.

One day last week we made another attempt to conquer Swahili, but slightly less entertaining than the fashion show. Margaret, one of the Harrison’s workers, taught us how to make chapattis (a Tanzanian delicacy. Basically an uber delicious tortilla). Sometimes, it’s better to enjoy food without knowing what exactly goes into it to make it so delicious. This was one of those times. After we drowned each chapatti in mafuta (oil), we added more. And then a tad more. But they turned out quite tasty considering a bunch of wazungu made them.

Also last week some of us worked on putting up solar panels at Neema House to ensure that the kids have electricity when the power is out, which is about 30% of the time (I made that percentage up, but it’s based on my own observation during the past five weeks). I got to climb on a roof all morning, so even though the project was only partially completed, it was fun.

We were studying in John 6, where Jesus reminds the people that the prophets say “They will all be taught by God.” When thinking about this from a missions mindset, we realize that we aren’t the ones doing the teaching. We are teaching people to be taught. Then those who truly hear and learn from what God teaches will be drawn to Jesus. It's relieving to know we don't have to know all the answers, but we do know who to look to to find them.

Another Groen birthday shout-out this week! We celebrated Mama Alicia’s birthday by watching “The Gods Must be Crazy” and by breaking into the Groen’s house after getting locked out. Not to mention it allowed us another chance to eat ice cream and brownies. Alicia is a beautiful example of Christ’s selfless love for all of us interns and especially for her three daughters. We mostly experience it through her exquisite cooking. She fits a lot of love in one little apple pie muffin. But we experience it even more through the way she lives her life by humbly and joyfully serving others.

Wiki nne

First of all, Happy (late) 4^th of July! Believe it or not, we celebrated our country’s freedom with a good ol’ American BBQ, apple pie and some horseshoes. The only think that reminded me that I was in Africa and not back home was the fact it wasn’t 100% humidity. And I wasn’t celebrating my dad’s birthday with him and the family. Missed you guys!

       Last Sunday the interns split up and some of us went to a village church with Brett and some to another village church with Calvin. Dustin and I took the ridiculously bumpy road to a village called Bupandwa. On the way we picked up two girls and baby Yoshua for a ride to the village. One of the girl’s names was Rachel and she was my age. Immediate friendship. We haven’t met many people around our age so it was neat to spend some time with her and talk to her as well as I could. This village was even more welcoming and hospitable than the others. We always get excited when they make us chipatis and “froot loop” chai tea for breakfast. I don't know how they do it but somehow their tea tastes like they used the leftover milk from a bowl of froot loops. Brett says it’s the lemongrass, but I’m still convinced they have a secret cereal stash.

       Yoshua the preacher was very good about leading the church to desire to know God’s Word over everything else. They didn’t want dancing and singing to replace the goodness of truth found in scripture, so we spent a lot of time studying straight from the bible. When Duane taught on the story of Jesus calming the waves, he pointed out that even those who were closest to Jesus faced storms. Yoshua really emphasized this to the church, that a relationship with God does not promise a life without obstacles, hardships, or pain. Especially since we see Christ himself enduring extreme suffering. But He does say that persevering through these trials makes us complete, not lacking anything, if we ask the Lord for wisdom and guidance and trust He will answer (James 1). 

       While Baylor, Harper and I built houses out of sticks and leaves, many of the kids came over to see what we were doing. Some of the girls in this village were older so I really enjoyed trying to talk to them and have them actually understand me. Rachel took Duane, Baylor and I on a walk around their village. The small amount of communication we had was me asking her the names of random objects in Swahili, and laughing at the kids calling us Mzungu. That she didn’t have to translate.

       Goodbyes in a village are always a big event. It actually can be one of my favorite parts of the day solely because everyone comes together and walks us to the car to send us off. This time was extra special. You've never experienced true generosity until someone gives you chickens as a parting gift. Yep, Yoshua's family kindly gave us two living, breathing wakuku to take home. Not only will it be delicious food one day, but it provided Baylor with entertainment for the two hour trip back. Apparently she speaks chicken quite well and was even willing to translate for us. Those little animals have a lot more going on in their head than I thought. 

Some days during the week we get to help the Groen girls (Kate, Sadie, and Hailey) with their schoolwork. These girls are smart and disciplined enough to handle all the work, but sometimes it's a little more exciting to practice long division with a cool (not referring to myself) college kid than your mom. Also it's a good refresher for us who forgot how fractions work. What's even more encouraging about these girls is their ability to teach me. It was humbling to have Sadie who's 11 offer to help me memorize part of James because she already has all five chapters memorized. 

One day after we finished doing school and sorting donated clothes for Neema House, some of the neighbor kids wanted to play. I reverted back to my 5th grade self and had a little too much fun playing catch and making animals out of mud. My twiga (giraffe) turned out pretty good according to the kids.

In Swahili class we’re learning colors and clothing items, so naturally we had to put our skills to the test and attempt to go shopping at the mitumba. While Alicia looked for clothing for Neema House, we got to search for an outfit for our intern fashion show on 4th of July. To the boys disappointment, we decided to buy for each other. Only one of the two guys ended up in a dress. Dustin just had to endure wearing a small girl's tank top... with a British flag. Oh the irony. It didn't last long as Dustin's patriotism led him to rip the shirt in half mid-catwalk. With that and Harper's dancing, it was most definitely the best fashion show I've been to in Africa. (And yes, this all helped us significantly with learning our Swahili...)

Calvin took us to visit a Tanzanian-run NGO called Nelico which provides care and support to people in surrounding villages. They offer services ranging from helping kids get out of small scale gold mining and back into school as well as providing psychological therapy to women and children. It was cool to see a well-run group work so hard for their own community.

A big thanks to Katelyn Groen for turning 14 this week and giving us a reason to eat ice cream. Oh and to be grateful for life. In the few weeks we’ve known her, we’ve already been blessed by her genuine heart and incredible artistic talent.

The birthday girl (middle) and her two crazy sisters

What Are the Odds...

Sometimes we like to play a game called “What are the odds.” It consists of coming up with a dare, usually something stupid or just embarrassing, and asking someone what the odds are that they would do said thing. That person says the odds (like 1 in 25) and on the count of three both people have to say a number in this range (between 1 and 25). If the numbers are the same, the person who was accepted the dare has to do it. If the two numbers add up to the odds (like 10 and 15) the person who called the dare has to do it. If neither happens, the dare ends. It’s only important you know this because it has resulted in many odd situations the past couple of weeks. Like Gunnar having to shave his legs. And me having to eat a bouillon cube. And me, since I’m apparently bad at this game, also having to scream “I’m king of the world” from the ferry. Titanic style. Here are a few of the moments we captured. 

Gunnar's loyal fiancé agreed to help

I had to eat the old, dried and part of the honeycomb