Ministry2Kenya: "Loving my neighbor"

Chimamanda Adichie: The danger of a single story

2012-02-10T17:29:00.002+03:00

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (born 1977) is a Nigerian writer. She has been called "the most prominent" of "a procession of critically acclaimed young anglophone authors which is succeeding in attracting a new generation of readers to African literature".

Adichie's first novel, Purple Hibiscus (2003), received excellent reviews and was given numerous awards. Her second novel, Half of a Yellow Sun (2006), was awarded the 2007 Orange Prize for Fiction. Her third book, The Thing Around Your Neck (2009), is a collection of short stories. Adichie's story, Ceiling, was included in the 2011 edition of The Best American Short Stories.

Inspired by Nigerian history and tragedies all but forgotten by recent generations of westerners, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s novels and stories are jewels in the crown of diasporan literature.

Our lives, our cultures, are composed of many overlapping stories. Novelist Chimamanda Adichie tells the story of how she found her authentic cultural voice - and warns that if we hear only a single story about another person or country, we risk a critical misunderstanding.

I hope you'll take the time to listen to this very articulate and eloquent young lady, as she speaks of the many misconceptions of Africa and Africans. The 18-minute video is well worth your time!

Personal note: I have read Purple Hibiscus and Half of a Yellow Sun. They are both excellent.

My sabbatical

2012-02-06T08:03:00.000+03:00

Sabbatical - (from Hebrew shabbat, i.e., Sabbath, literally a "ceasing") is a rest from work, or a hiatus, often lasting from two months to a year. (source: Wikipedia)

Any extended period of leave from one's customary work, especially for rest, to acquire new skills or training, etc. (source: dictionary.com)

According to Howard Culbertson, Nazarene missionary (http://home.snu.edu/~hculbert/furlough.htm), a missionary furlough includes the following:

being with old friends, sharing your prayer burdens, even unloading some frustration, hurts, and disappointments.
finding out where your friends are on their spiritual pilgrimage, sharing their prayer burdens, letting them unload some of their frustrations, hurts and disappointments.
learning how large and how big-hearted your spiritual family really is.
answering the same questions again and again, but getting excited because people are really interested in your work.
meeting people who say they've been praying for you by name every day for years.

In the 10 years I've lived in Kenya, I’ve spent 66% of it in Kenya and the other 1/3 in the US. This is my 6th time to be back in the States.

During sabbaticals, I struggle with being physically in the US... but my heart and mind are still in Kenya. Emotionally, it's an awkward way to exist. Furloughs often seem like an interruption in the calling God has on my life. It’s not easy living in two places.

Naturally, it’s incredibly wonderful to be with my family and friends! But… simultaneously, it’s hard to be away from everyone in Kenya. My thoughts are pretty much always there. I’m also very aware that it’s not easy on my kids and grand-kids to have me away so much of the time. It’s a hard balancing act.

It's been a really good sabbatical. Perhaps my best one yet.

I started off with a few weeks in Delhi, India visiting my daughter, Naomi, and her family. I thoroughly enjoyed taking part in their normal daily routine!

My next stop was New York City, to spend time with my daughter, Jess, and her family. Once again, I thoroughly enjoyed taking part in their normal daily routine.

Right after I arrived in my home town in Nebraska, I got to play in the snow with one of my grand-daughters before the unseasonable warm weather arrived.

We also celebrated my mom's birthday with an open house.

The following are prayer items, as I anticipate my return to Kenya:

Spiritual - Growth as I sit quietly at the feet of my Lord and as I immerse myself in and absorb his Word. I want to linger in his presence and walk in his peace.

Ministry-wise - Sensitivity to the Lord regarding a balanced weekly routine, as I interact with my ministry relationships and friends. I want to move at his pace and listen to his promptings. I desire that everything I do and say will be aligned with his purpose.

Physical safety -

1. Safety for my life and limbs as I travel on dangerous roads and public transportation.
2. Awareness of my surroundings as I face the constant possibility of pick-pockets.
3. Safety in the threat of increasing terrorist activity throughout the country of Kenya. Both the US and UK governments have warned their citizens residing in Kenya of ‘imminent terrorist activity’, specifically from the Somalia-based militant Islamist group known as Al-Shabaab. There have been grenade and bomb attacks, kidnappings, and killings. Kenya’s army is currently on a campaign inside the border of Somalia.
4. Unstable political climate. Another presidential election is due within the next year (date yet to be announced). As a result of the last election (December 2007), mayhem, looting, and killing broke out for two months. As nothing has been resolved, it is highly likely such post-election chaos could replicate itself.

Health - Please pray that I will maintain good health, including protection from such tropical diseases as malaria, typhoid, and typhus; a variety of water-borne diseases; worms; amoeba; the common cold, etc.

This will be a guiding motto for my upcoming field-stay:
In God's peace, at God's pace, aligned with God's purpose, lingering in God's presence, and listening to God's promptings.

Quotes from two great missionaries -

“Obedience to God was the reason for this journey.
It was a good thing for me to remind myself of the reason because,
on top of everything, it was really great fun.
It was an adventure and held the thrill of adventure…
It was the thing I was made for and I was full of gladness.”

- Elisabeth Elliot (writing about her first year as a missionary in Ecuador)

“People talk of the sacrifice I made
in spending so much of my life in Africa.
I never made a sacrifice.
We ought not to talk of sacrifice when we remember
the great sacrifice which He made
who left His Father’s throne on high
to give Himself for us.”

- David Livingstone, missionary to Africa in the 1800’s

Good times with the family over the holidays

2012-01-27T19:34:00.000+03:00

A Thanksgiving Baby

2011-11-23T16:47:00.001+03:00

Seven years ago, on Thanksgiving Day, I had the incredible and unforgettable experience of assisting in the birth of a child. It took place in a mud house - with a mud floor - in a remote rural village in Kenya.

He's called Duane - after my dad!

I am still good friends with Agnes, Duane's mom. God is teaching me how to be her "neighbor" and how to love her with His love!

Just as a side-note, before you read the story... Over the past couple of years, God developed in me the idea to raise money - from people like you - to help change the life of this struggling family.

Will you consider joining with me to buy her a plot of land so she can raise her own crops and support her 5 boys? Please click here to learn about the details. As of today, we've raised almost $5,000 on our way to $12,000!

In the photo above, Duane is the one on Agnes' lap. Popino (her second-oldest son) is holding Caleb Zachary (who is named after my two grown sons).

I believe you'll enjoy reading the story below. I've watched God orchestrate some pretty amazing experiences in the 10 years I've been a missionary in Kenya. It all started when I surrendered to His calling on my life. This story recounts one of those amazing experiences.

A Thanksgiving Baby - Thursday, November 25, 2004

I met Charles Cheloti during the first week of September. He and his family - a pregnant wife, Tony (11), Pope (9), and Anderson (6) - were my new next-door neighbors at my Matunda place. To be frank, initially their requests for such things as kerosene, matches, sugar, and cooking oil mildly irritated me. But, something about the family really touched me. Obviously they were in dire need; I couldn’t refuse.

In late October, I was as happy to see Charles and the boys again as they were to see me. The language barrier prevents me from communicating too well with the boys but as I pedaled onto the compound, their huge grins spoke volumes. It was during this visit that I first met Agnes, Charles’ wife. I liked her immediately. (She had been bed-ridden for much of her pregnancy and I hadn’t even seen her before.)

When I left to return to Nairobi on the 2nd of November, she said, “Now Deb, who is going to be with me when this baby comes? It should come any day now. This pregnancy has had me ill the entire time. I fear giving birth alone.” I reassured her she would be just fine. Secretly I wished I could, in fact, be with her when that moment arrived. Almost three weeks later - on the 21st - I saw my friend, Margaret. She had just come back from Matunda and responded negatively when I inquired, “Is there a baby yet?” I was surprised, but held out hope that maybe I could share in the event after all. I was to travel to Matunda the following day.

When I arrived and greeted the family, I discovered that the baby was expected at any moment! The next morning I hired a bicycle taxi for Agnes and loaned Charles my bike so they could go to a nearby clinic and see about this baby. Upon their return, Agnes reported that the nurse had concurred - the baby should come any time.

That evening, it rained heavy for two hours. I went to bed at 9:30 and was quickly asleep. A short time later I awoke to voices. I heard someone praying and singing. I roused myself out of bed and peeked out the window. It was Charles, Agnes, and a neighbor lady. Apparently it was time!

I threw on my sweatshirt and joined them; it was midnight. Agnes lay on a gunnysack on the cold crumbling cement floor, leaning against a rolled-up foam mattress. She was indeed in labor. Agnes told me that Charles had first tried to wake me but unsuccessful, he'd gone for Mary John who lives about a 10-minute walk away. At their request I retrieved a razor blade; Mary got some thread from somewhere. Charles woke the boys and got them settled in the other tiny house on the compound. As he did so, Agnes laughed, “If they hear my groans and noises they’ll mimic me for a week!”

Throughout the next few hours, and in-between the incessant rain showers, I brought my lantern and small tin lamp, as well as my flask of leftover tea for Agnes. Charles tried to light some maize cobs. They weren’t dry enough from the recent harvest; the ensuing smoke made it difficult for Agnes to breathe. He opened the windows to let the smoke out but the cool night air made Agnes cold. I walked the few feet to my house and got my 'jiko' (a small charcoal cooker), as theirs was falling apart. I also grabbed some of my charcoal. Eventually the house warmed.

In between her contractions we engaged in lively conversation. We told stories; we laughed. During their narrations, about every ten minutes or so, Agnes would disengage in the conversation and endure a contraction. Immediately afterwards she would join back in with us.

Charles added, “You know – God’s ways are not human’s ways. People can say one thing, but God has higher ways. God is power.” Charles, only educated to fifth grade, talks in broken and halting English but all the same, he can be quite eloquent in my estimation.

Circumcision revelers (across the river in the Mawe Tatu area) loudly serenaded us for quite some time. It continued to rain off and on. We all grew tired; the conversation began to wane. “Charles, tell us some stories to entertain us,” Agnes pleaded. The crickets counted the passing minutes. My back grew stiff and sore from sitting on a bench. Mary sat on a small box on the floor. In between doing whatever needed to be done, Charles laid down on their mattress on the floor.

Strong and enduring the pain and discomfort like a real trooper, Agnes began to get weary. She wondered out loud if this baby would ever come. I went to get my phone to check the time - 3:07am. Mary suggested we find a vehicle to take her to the clinic. While she was out, Agnes confided to me that she saw no need to go to the clinic. “Now, what for? Where will we find one? Anyway, I still have hope.” I boldly interjected on Agnes’ behalf that it didn’t seem necessary.

Instead a decision was reached to try to summon a midwife in the area. One had already refused because of the unavailability of gloves. Charles headed out to try another one in the other direction. I went for my 'torch' (flashlight) and loaned it to Charles. The contractions were coming about five minutes apart and Agnes now pushed with each one. “Can you imagine a woman going through all this pain only to abandon her child? This is too much work,” she asserted. Mary and I helped her walk around the house now and then. Even though she never really complained, it was apparent to me that she was worn out.

An hour passed; still no baby. Agnes “soldiered on” (as a Kenyan would say) but it was an agonizing wait for her. I noticed roosters in the area starting their morning ritual of announcing the approaching dawn. When Charles finally came back, he informed us that the second midwife had also refused to assist without gloves and without being paid in advance. Agnes was disappointed, proclaiming that was a silly reason not to help someone in need. I had admired her spirited courage all night.

A few minutes later, after another couple of strong pushes with no baby, she stood up noticeably frustrated and exhausted. Wrapping her blanket around her shoulders she announced, “I’m walking to the midwife down the hill here - even if I die at her door!” I reminded her that earlier the woman had refused to help. “When she sees my condition, now how can she refuse?” Mary asked her how she would make it with no vehicle. “I’ll just go ‘poly poly’ (slowly). This baby has delayed too long!”

Charles grabbed the flashlight; he and Mary assisted Agnes on each side. I was a bit stunned by the decision and stood transfixed in the doorway. I knew Agnes was exhausted. They had gone a mere ten steps when Agnes moaned, squatted, and let out a scream.

The next sound in the still dark night was the cry of a baby!

Immediately I scooped him up off of the cold wet grass and held him in my arms to keep him warm. Charles supported his wife; Mary ran for the lantern. We tried to get her back in the house. It was awkward, though, as I had to walk too close to her with the umbilical cord still attached.

She moaned again and Charles lowered her. As I simultaneously squatted back down alongside her, a big squirt of blood landed on my foot. Mary placed a gunnysack underneath to catch the placenta, which quickly followed. Charles then led Agnes into the house. Mary and I followed with the baby in my arms and Mary carrying the gunnysack.

Once inside, Mary fumbled around nervously trying to tie the cord. I helped as best I could by holding his curled up legs away. Having completed its 9-month task, I noticed the cord was already cold to the touch. It felt strange. Mary was ready to cut it when I noticed she hadn’t tied the thread nearly tight enough. Eventually she completed the task of retying it and I resumed my seat on the bench. We discussed what should be done with the afterbirth. Finally, with his 'jembe' (hoe), Charles dug a hole near the house and Mary helped him bury it.

Meanwhile Agnes and I marveled at the way things had developed. I checked my phone; he’d been born at 4:30am. I informed her that the baby looked just like Charles. Too tired to really care, she was relieved it was over.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the child in my arms. I had the privilege of holding him for the first full hour of his life. How unreservedly incredible! Content and with a full head of curly black hair, he was simply beautiful. With eyes bright and alert, he looked around at his new environment. “Karibu Kenya. Kula ugali,” "Welcome to Kenya. Eat 'ugali' (Kenya's staple food." I announced it to the babe in my arms and to everyone’s delight.

Charles continued to praise God about the course of the last couple of days. “You know, God’s a power! His ways are not like human’s. God’s a miracle. Look at this baby. God is a miracle.” He laughed with joy.

“Deb, it’s for you to name this child,” declared Agnes. “If it had been a girl she was to be called Deb. But I’m not prepared to name a boy. It seems God only wants me to have boys.” As I hesitated for a moment considering what name to choose, suddenly Charles asked, “Sister, what is your father’s name? I think you must have the same character as your father. You’re so kind. I want my son to have that same character.”

I told them his name was Duane. “Then that’s the name of this boy - Duane,” proclaimed Agnes. They’d never heard of the name and are quite sure there’s none in all of Kenya. But regardless of that, they accepted the name immediately.

As we continued to muse over the child’s birth, I told them that today was Thanksgiving in America. I explained it’s a day set aside to give thanks to God for all of our blessings. “Duane not only has an American name, he was born on an American holiday!” I suggested that Charles pray and give thanks to God for this new little one. Instead, he insisted that I be the one to pray. As I offered thanksgiving to God for the miracle I held in my arms, emotion flooded over me; I was barely able to hold back my tears.

As the sun began to bring the night to a close, Mary got up to leave and Charles gave her a “push” home. I sat down next to where Agnes lay on the floor and laid Duane by her side. I brought the tin lamp over close so she could see him for the first time. As I did so, she noticed the blood on my sweatshirt. “Never mind that; I can wash it. Agnes, here take a look at your son.” We visited some more, still marveling at the birth.

When Charles returned, I went to draw water from the well in order to wash my bloodstained sweatshirt. The sun had just come up over the horizon revealing a thick fog across the valley. It was a beautiful morning - the dawn of a new day. Charles met me coming back with my bucket of water. “Sister, we have a problem. Can you come?”

I went back in the house to find Agnes looking at the umbilical cord. “Deb, I don’t think Mary tied this right. Look, he’s still bleeding. This rag is all covered in blood and that-s why your jacket is bloody. He can bleed to death.” “Wow,” I said, “it needs to be retied.” Charles handed me the thread. Incredulous, I asked, “You want me to do it?”

As I bravely tied it as tightly as I could manage, Agnes whispered to me in amazement, “I’ve never done that before.” I told her that I never had either I! I got my scissors and re-cut the cord. She wrapped Duane in some clean pieces of cloth. I took the bloody and mucous-covered rags and washed them along with my sweatshirt.

A few hours later, Charles announced that he had lunch ready and invited me to join them. While we ate, we did some more reminiscing about the whole event. The three of us rejoiced and repeatedly praised God. “Deb, I didn’t know I could ever have a neighbor from abroad,” stated Charles proudly with his typical big grin revealing two large dimples.

“You are not only my neighbor, you’re my friend. And now this child has a name from America. There’s no other Duane in Kenya. This child is special. God is a miracle. God is power.” He reached for his Bible. Turning to Isaiah 55:8, 9, he read aloud –

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.”

If truth be told, he had quoted those verses so many times throughout the night. It seemed to be the theme of Duane’s birth. As he read the passage now directly from God’s Word, tears once again welled up in my eyes. God’s ways are so incredibly remarkable. What an amazing two days it had been!

While we ate, I took advantage of the opportunity and held Duane yet some more.

That afternoon, as I finished the second coat of paint on my gate - in between yet more seemingly incessant rain showers - I continued to give God the glory.

What a memorable Thanksgiving this had proven to be!

My dad died in December of 2006 (two years after Duane was born).

However.. his legacy - and his name - live on!

Click here to learn how to help Agnes.

Celebrating 10 years in Kenya!

2011-11-12T08:12:00.000+03:00

"Have a Safe Trip"

2011-11-06T11:40:00.001+03:00

The flight began like any other flight.

I was traveling from Nairobi, Kenya to Delhi, India. As there are no direct flights between those two cities, I was to have a five-hour layover in Bahrain. This would be the first leg of my three-month furlough, beginning with a visit to Naomi and her family.

Getting ready for the trip, there had been so many last-minute details to which I needed to attend. Wrapping up my normal daily activities as a missionary in Kenya, cleaning out the fridge and emptying the trash, getting the space in my house ready for a tenant to sub-lease in my absence, one last watering of my many potted plants, informing my landlord of the arrangement…. oh, and packing. On top of it all, I had an annoying cold that had really sapped my energy level.

Because the flight wasn’t leaving until 15 minutes after midnight, I stopped off at Carol and Jeremiah’s for dinner and our last goodbyes. I also wanted to see the new house into which they’d recently moved. A downpour had just abated when my taxi arrived.

I arrived at the airport quite early. I had a cup of tea and read the next day’s edition of the newspaper. Strolling around in the terminal for international arrivals, I observed the first vending machine I’d ever seen in Kenya. It was for Coca-Cola products. Later, while standing in the check-in line, I noticed a young hippy-looking guy - complete with a tie-dyed t-shirt and a large, well-used backpack. Included in his luggage were two six-foot long thin sticks. Curious what they might be, I watched as he and the airline attendant struggled to secure them for the flight.

While waiting in the departure lounge, I listened to a very tall middle-aged Canadian man behind me talk about going to Mumbai, India to have expensive dental work done. His Kenyan girlfriend was with him; it was her very first time to fly. They planned to also do some sight-seeing after he recuperated. He carried on a long conversation with a young British couple with a six-week old baby. The two of them have lived in Kenya for five years and both teach at the same school. The dad often walked around the lounge area, with their baby content in the carrier on his chest. I also noticed an older short and stocky guy in a pale orange shirt. He sat on his chair with one leg tucked underneath. Behind him was a young dark-haired gal, engrossed in a book.

A half an hour late, it was finally time to board. As I got settled in my aisle seat, I noticed the man seated at the window was quite restless. After he got up to use the toilet, he asked the young Kenyan Indian lad (seated between us) to trade seats with him. Now seated next to me, the Pakistani engaged me in conversation. I’m not fond of conversation with my seatmates when flying. When I responded with, “India”, to his question about my destination, he abruptly asked me, “Why?” A bit later, he told me he was Pakistani and asked if I’d ever visited Pakistan. When I told him, “No, I haven’t, he abruptly asked me, “Why not?”

When the stewardess gave us the routine speech about the safety features, I only mildly paid attention – like I do on most any flight. My thought has always been that if there were an emergency during the flight, the cabin crew would be there to assist us.

My Pakistani neighbor told me he was nervous about the flight. When I inquired about his nervousness, he said, “No, it’s not my first time to fly, but I’m nervous about having been in Africa for the first time.” He works out of Dubai for a generator firm and had been in Nairobi for a week checking out the potential market there. His remark didn’t make any sense to me, but all through the flight he continually informed me of his apprehensions.

I closed my eyes in an attempt to quiet him down. The young Indian lad at the window had already apparently fallen asleep, with his ear buds in place.

It occurred to me that I had failed to talk to God about the flight. I admitted to him that I’d been so busy getting ready, I hadn’t even prayed. “Keep me safe, Lord. Take me to all my destinations. My life is in your hands. I’ve given you absolute control over my life. I have surrendered everything to you. We all die one day (plane crash, cancer, bicycling accident). You know the appointed day and the hour when I’ll go home. But I ask that I will arrive well in Delhi. Please keep me safe on this flight.”

My thoughts were interrupted by my neighbor, “What is that? Why is the plane going back and forth and making that noise?” I told him it’s just turbulence. “What is turbulence? Is it dangerous? I don’t like it. Is it bad?” I tried to explain to him that it’s just something in the air; there’s no need to worry. “Something in the air? But what if something is wrong with the plane? I don’t like it. I’m nervous.” He got the attention of one of the flight attendants in an attempt to allay his fears.

Off and on, all through the flight, he kept this running dialogue going. “Are we okay? I’m afraid. Are we going down?” In his state of constant nervousness, he got up repeatedly to use the toilet. My annoyance with him eventually shifted to a genuine attempt to calm him down. I even patted him on the shoulder a couple of times… reassuring him that everything was okay.

As per normal when I fly, I was unable to get any shut-eye. Between my fidgety neighbor, the flight attendants serving us a meal, the lights either turning on or turning off, and the occasional turbulence, I was unable to doze at all. I think a person basically goes into a sort of auto-pilot mode when flying long distances. It’s easy to lose track of time, especially when there’s no map and destination information on the screens (as was the case on this flight).

My neighbor was at it again. “Is it time for us to land yet? Are we going down yet?” He fumbled around and found his phone. Going against the rules, he turned it on to confirm the time and added, “What time is our arrival in Bahrain?” I’d been unconsciously staring at the TV program on the overhead screen. Now, it caught my eye and made me laugh. I told my talkative neighbor, “This program is funny.” I think for the first time, the thought occurred to him that maybe he was disturbing me; he actually stayed quiet for a while.

The flight did have a fair amount of turbulence, but nothing really out of the ordinary. Roughly four or more hours into our five-hour flight, the Indian lad woke up. When he opened the window shade, all three of us admired the brilliant orange sun rising above the horizon.

The pilot’s voice came on over the PA system again. I had struggled to understand him all through the flight. This particular time, it seemed like he told us we’d lost cabin pressure and that we would descend to 10,000 feet. Suddenly, in the midst of his explanation, small doors on the ceiling opened up; all the oxygen masks dropped down.

Simultaneously, we went into an obviously steep descent.

After a few seconds, the pilot announced, “All passengers and crew members must take their seats. Do not panic. Put on the oxygen masks.”

The cabin crew sat down and put on their masks. There were no instructions or assistance from them like I had always naïvely expected. Eventually, each of us passengers fumbled with the masks and used them as best we could. Babies started crying.

“Is it danger? Does this work? Is there oxygen?” My neighbor was now beside himself with worry and fear. He kept putting his mask on and off of his mouth. I did my best to again reassure him that all was normal and okay.

But now… I wrestled with my own concerns and faced my own fears. I couldn’t help observing our cabin crew. Each one of them was quite obviously frightened. I had sensed panic in the pilot’s voice. I wondered if we plummeting to our deaths. Wow. Could this be the day? How will my family learn about it? What will Naomi think when I don’t show up at the airport in Delhi? I recalled my prayer just a few hours earlier. “The day and hour of my death are in your hands, Lord.”

I tried to relax and focus on taking deep breaths from my mask. The small children and babies on the plane were still crying. I laid my hand on the head of the two-year old Pakistani boy across the aisle from me. He was in his attentive father’s arms, but was nonetheless scared. I offered up a quick prayer that he would not be afraid. An Indian boy about four years old behind me was also crying. He kept fighting with his mother about using the mask. I tried to convey to him - by using my eyes - that everything would be okay.

The pilot’s voice came on again. “Do not panic. Everyone stay seated. All passengers and cabin crew, continue to use the oxygen masks. We must make an emergency landing. We will land in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. It is the closest airport. Do not panic.”

Again, I sensed panic in his voice. I could hear my neighbor praying in his native tongue, Urdu. I heard others around me praying in their own languages and to their own gods. I also prayed. “Lord, let this pilot level out the plane. Let him regain control.” I again wondered if this was it. Was this the appointed day for me? But, I had a sense of peace. Enough that I was able to continue calming my neighbor and patting him on the shoulder.

One of the cabin crew came back briefly to see if we were all okay. My neighbor piped up, “Is it danger? What is happening? Tell us why we are going down so fast.” The stewardess rather curtly told him to keep breathing with his mask. “Do not use the toilet. Just stay seated.”

After approximately 7 minutes, the plane did level out. My ears hurt intensely and I noticed that several around me where experiencing the same discomfort.

The pilot announced that we were coming in for a landing at the airport in Riyadh. I think all 120 passengers took a collective sigh of relief when we touched ground. I heard a woman’s voice calmly say behind me, “Thank you, Lord.”

My neighbor kept up his questions, though. “We’re going so fast. Why are we going so fast?” I tried to remind him, “But we’ve landed; we’re on the ground. We’re just taxiing to our gate. Everything is okay now. You don’t need to worry anymore.” I had felt badly about my irritation with him. I realized that in any given moment, someone may need my listening ear and encouragement… even when I’d rather be left alone.

All four of the cabin crew now made their way around, asking if we were okay and attending to other duties. It was quite obvious - with a glance at her face - that one of them had been crying.

The father of the two-year old boy, across the aisle from me, spoke in Urdu to my Pakistani neighbor. I knew exactly what he was saying by his gestures - that he had prayed for our safety during those scary moments.

Indeed, we had all prayed.

As we taxied to our gate and then waited for clearance from the Saudi authorities to disembark, I offered up a prayer of thanks. As I did so, I saw an image in my mind of a restaurant server, dressed immaculately in his black and white uniform. As he weaved in and out of the tables and past customers, he continued to carefully and steadily hold a silver platter above his head. It rested securely on his fingertips and palm. I immediately thought of my friend, Rod’s, comment to me in a farewell email, shortly before I left Nairobi.

“May God bless you and keep you in the palm of his hand!”

“Thank you, Lord,” I whispered. “Indeed, you do hold me safely and snugly in the palm of your hand! You brought this plane securely back down to earth, in spite of the crisis.”

The pilot stepped into the cabin before we alighted and asked if we were okay. However, we were never satisfactorily informed regarding what had happened. Nor were we offered any “after care”, as is normal in such distressing circumstances.

Eventually a bus came to collect us from the plane and take us to the airport terminal. As we all crowded onto the bus a young Indian gal - quietly and as discreetly as she could manage - vomited on the floor. I’m quite sure it was a residual effect from our frightening experience.

Huge water fountain at the airport

We spent the next 10 hours together at Riyadh’s King Khalid International Airport. Details of our next move were sketchy and slow to come, but the airline did serve us a morning snack and later a full lunch.

Our morning snack provided by the airline

Our wait was long and boring. The airport offered little in amenities or distractions. Finding an employee that spoke English well and trying to figure out how to use a foreign currency wasn't easy. Nor was it easy figuring out how to get a local SIM card for my phone so I could notify Naomi of our delay.

Saudi Arabia Riyal (SAR)

About 12 of us formed a little community of support and conversation. The older gentleman with the orange shirt (that I’d noticed at the airport in Nairobi) was called Yannis and was from Greece. Owning a number of apartment buildings in Greece, he travels back and forth to Kenya rather frequently to visit folks and also to peddle olive oil for his friends back home.

The young hippy-like fellow was an Italian, named Robert. He was traveling back home with his new girlfriend from Ethiopia. He had spent the past four months in Kenya volunteering with an organization that works in Nairobi. He lived in a slum with street children and also spent some time in Maasai land with the nomadic tribe. The two long sticks I’d seen him checking with his other luggage were what he used to help the Maasai herd their cattle. He had such an engaging smile. Amazingly, because of his lack of fluency with the English language, he had no idea where we had landed. He thought we were in Bahrain (our actual destination). At one point, while we sat together, I noticed he was reading the Bible. When I asked him if he was a believer, he flashed his warm smile and said, “Yes, I am.” As we talked further he expressed his surprise at how calm everyone was on the plane during the crisis. When I told him I was praying for various people around me, he said he was also praying for fellow passengers.

Robert (Italian), Arlo (Somalian), and Yannis (Greek)

The tall Canadian told me his girlfriend was much calmer during the crisis than he had been - in spite of it being her first time to fly. He lives six months of the year in Kenya and the other six months in the US, where he drives an over-the-road truck. He recently put his girlfriend - who has never driven a car - through truck-driving school in Nairobi. Their plan is for her to get a job in the US as an over-the-road trucker… that is, if she can first get a visa.

The young dark-haired gal, that I’d observed reading a book as we waited to board the plane, was from the UK. Emma is a lawyer, but decided she needed a break from practicing law. She’d been living in 10 different African countries for the past two years while working as a tour guide.

The young Kenyan-Indian lad who sat by me at the window had just finished his education for becoming a pharmacist. He was headed to England to visit friends and relatives before coming back to Kenya for his final exams and registration.

There was also a Polish fellow called Darius. He goes to Kenya for a few weeks every year and is employed as a fork-lift driver in the UK. He’s considering living full-time in Kenya, specifically in Ukunda (an area I’m very familiar with on the South Coast).

There was also a Bahraini guy who works for the UN and travels a lot. Rumor was that we were to fly on to Bahrain on the regularly scheduled 6pm flight. Because he flies out of Bahrain so much, he was able to inform us about the various flights we would be able to take to our various destinations.

An Indian grandmother, her daughter, and grandson were traveling back to India. The grandson did all the checking with the airline to get updates on our situation. My guess is that the two ladies didn’t know English. Arlo, a young Somali from Nairobi, was traveling with his mom and some other relatives. And finally, there was a Kenyan gal seated a couple of rows in front of me. Dressed in a colorful blouse, she was on her way to Bahrain for an exhibit she was putting on. She had displayed the most panic of all the passengers I observed.

These are the folks I befriended and hung out with during the long hours at the airport. We commiserated with one another and re-told the story of our experience. Everyone I spoke to said they thought we were going to die.

Off and on throughout our time together in the airport, we had various quiet complaints - the long wait and our inconvenience, the lack of communication from the airline, the lack of facilities and services in the airport, our struggle to let friends and family know about our delay, etc. However, invariably the conversations always ended with words along these lines, “At least we’re alive. We’re on the ground… and we’re alive.”

I didn’t feel well because of my cold and I was so tired from not sleeping for over 36 hours. Additionally, I was tired from speaking to folks for whom English was not their first language - especially Robert (the Italian), Yannis (the Greek), and the Pakistani who had sat next to me on the plane. As much as I enjoyed Robert and Yannis, it was exhausting for all of us to search for the right word that everyone would understand.

At long last 6pm arrived; we boarded another plane for a 45-minute flight to Bahrain. Once there, I and about 20 others were put up in a hotel, with dinner and breakfast provided. Almost 24 hours later, I arrived in Delhi to the expectant and smiling faces of Naomi, Tony, and Mia.

I don’t think I’ll ever speak or hear the words, “Have a safe trip”, in the same way again.

Sign at the airport

This experience was certainly a sobering reminder that life is fragile.

In any given moment, my life can fade away.

.

Ryan's visit

2011-11-01T18:30:00.001+03:00

Fellow missionary, Ryan Youtz, paid me a visit recently. We're both from Omaha, both with Ripe for Harvest, and both serve in East Africa (Ryan in Uganda and me in Kenya). We always enjoy our time together. It gives us a much needed opportunity to let loose a bit and do some fun things... while we simultaneously encourage for one another.

We went to the brand-new KFC, not once... but twice.

Even in Kenya, it's finger-licking good!

We treated ourselves at Planet Yogurt.

We happened to be in town the day a new statue was ceremoniously unveiled of Tom Mboya, one of Kenya's heroes. I was very pleased to see many citizens viewing it with pride.

One evening, Ryan and I had a nice dinner of Coconut Chicken Curry with Rod...

and topped it off with yummy - and pretty - milkshakes.

My new house is close to Giraffe Center. Ryan got more than a few sloppy kisses!

We took in a couple of Manchester United football matches.

I just tag along; Ryan is an avid fan.

And... we played a fun, "friendly" Scrabble game Moses and Emily.

Another visit with Agnes and family, plus Mary Alu and family

2011-10-31T00:00:00.000+03:00

Zach, Duane, Owen

While visiting Agnes and her boys recently, we went for a nice hour-long stroll. Along the way, Owen joined up with us... regardless of the fact that he'd never met any of us. I love such simplicity and instant friendships like that in Kenya!

Thunder rumbled the whole time we were out and the sky was beautiful and dramatic, with rolling thunderhead clouds. We saw rain in the distance, but fortunately it didn't come our way.

As we neared the market area and Agnes' house, we stopped for a soda and mandazi at a tiny café. The walk and the snack were a wonderful interlude in our time together!

I also made a point to visit Mary Alu and her family again. For so many years, I have enjoyed going to her house. She always greets me with a warm hug and a warm smile. The food is delicious and the conversation with everyone is enjoyable. I also love her compound with so many trees.

Brian is engrossed in an atlas I bought for him.

Cedric is such a sweet boy!

Mary is having a new kitchen built.

A walk in the woods

2011-10-24T18:07:00.000+03:00

"I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least -

and it is commonly more than that - sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields,

absolutely free from all worldly engagements."

~Henry David Thoreau

Ngong Hills

Kim and I recently took a really fun and leisurely five-hour stroll through Ololua Forest. We had a very enjoyable time and discovered some interesting things.

For instance, before we entered the forest, we stumbled onto a small factory that produces charcoal briquettes and chicken-feed pellets, the latter apparently made out of omena (sardines)... judging by the strong fish odor.

Charcoal factory

As we strolled through the forest, we found ourselves speaking often of Wangari Maathai, who recently passed away. In fact, her funeral was conducted on the same day as our hike. In case you're not familiar with her, she was quite a champion for the environment and especially trees. She was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2004, in recognition of her untiring efforts to save the environment.

"Anybody can dig a hole and plant a tree. But make sure it survives.

You have to nurture it, you have to water it, you have to keep at it until it becomes rooted

so it can take care or itself. There are so many enemies of trees."

~Wangari Maathai

We took our hike on a Saturday, which was apparently washing day for many people in the area.

"Me thinks that the moment my legs begin to move, my thoughts begin to flow."

~Henry David Thoreau

A newborn kid (of the goat variety)

2011-10-09T19:57:00.000+03:00

One of the most memorable things Kim and I got to witness on our hike was a young Maasai goat-herder and his interaction with a doe (female goat) and her newborn kid.

After two and a half hours of walking, we decided to find a spot to eat our sandwiches. While doing so, a herd of goats wandered by.

Take a close look at the herder. Do you see the newborn kid dangling from one leg?

I've actually seen this fairly often. I think I always had the idea in my head that a shepherd/goatherd would gently carry a newborn in the crook of his arm. Not here in Kenya :)

My guess is that this kid had been born that morning... AS the goats moved around and grazed. Still guessing... I think that because the Maasai lad has no real way to corral the rest of the herd (numbering 30-40) to allow the kid to suckle... he just grabs it by the leg and the normal routine of meandering and grazing continues.

What I hadn't seen before, is what the following photos show.

The herder placed the kid on the ground. After locating the mother, he grabbed her by a foreleg and pulled it over to the kid. He gently forced her head down to the kid, until it was touching (or almost touching).

He patiently held it in this position for 5-10 minutes. Kim and I think that he was forcing the mother to get the scent of her offspring... and possibly forcing the kid to get the scent of its mother. The doe didn't seem to me to so excited about this task. Maybe she would rather be grazing like the other goats.

At one point, she wrestled away went to join the rest of the herd. In the photo above, you can see her coming back to her kid. Apparently her instinct kicked in and she realized this was her responsibility.

The children in the photo apparently lived nearby. They seemed to be as fascinated as Kim and I, watching this process unfold.

Soon, the mother came back to the kid, and sniffed it on her own volition. She then bleated a few times. My guess is she was communicating to the kid, "I'm your mother. I'm here to care for you. You belong to me."

And so... mission accomplished... the herd continued to lazily move along and graze... and the kid was once more dangled from the hand of the herder. I guess that's where it spent the remainder of the day... until they reached the manyatta (home) at dusk.

Kim and I marveled at what we were privileged to witness.

Such an elemental fact of life... the way God created it to be.

Kim, enjoying the unfolding scene

You See... God Came, July 2010

2011-09-27T17:35:00.000+03:00

Peter is a very industrious, self-employed young man. He puts 100% of himself into his work. With focused speed and seemingly unending energy, he gives his customers a thorough job and has developed quite a number of satisfied and loyal regulars.

I pass him often, either while cycling or walking from my house to Karen dukas. I guess he’s gotten used to seeing me – a rare white person who is not cloistered inside a car. Almost always, he waves to me from across the road and hollers out a hearty and cheerful, “Hello, madam! How is your day?”

Peter’s work space – out in the open and under the sun – is along busy Ngong Road and next to a small river called Mbagathi. He earns his daily bread by washing cars. With the arrival of each customer, he hustles down to the water’s edge and quickly fills two 20-liter buckets. I’m not sure how he manages to carry the heavy buckets uphill with his small frame, but he does so all day long. Besides his two buckets, his only other pieces of equipment are a sponge, a couple of rags and a few small packets of Omo (laundry soap). At times, two or three cars wait in line.

My frequent mode of transportation is my bicycle. There was a time it had gotten plastered with layers of mud from the red clay that is so typical of Kenya’s landscape. I realized that if I attempted to clean it myself, my clothes – not to mention myself – would become splattered with the hard-to-remove grime. So… I cycled the short distance down the road and asked Peter if he could clean my “car”. He happened to be busy washing a car, so his co-worker got busy on my bike.

I guess that’s the first time I watched Peter go about his work. While I sat on a large stone and waited for my bike to be finished, Peter struck up a conversation with me… all the while fastidiously attending to the car he was washing. He removed and cleaned the floor mats first so they could dry in the sun while he transformed the body of the car to a sparkling finish. He didn’t miss a single spot with the soapy water, or later, while drying the car. Even though we chatted off and on, his attention to detail never wavered as he hustled from one side of the car to the other. I found myself greatly admiring his strong work ethic.

After that day, our greetings turned into brief chats. I learned that Peter came to Nairobi, the big city, from his rural home a few years ago – like so very many do – in search of any sort of job. Eventually, he joined a few others that were washing cars in an area near downtown. After a couple of years, though, the City Council chased them away.

Peter has now been at his present location for approximately three years. With his faithfulness and diligence, his car-washing has allowed him to eke out a living. Daily it provides enough coins to sustain his wife and three children.

There was a time that a group of neighbors in the area really harassed Peter. I guess they were worried that an unsightly kiosk or two might spring up next to Peter’s humble car-wash spot… and run down the neighborhood (or some such thing). They even got the City Council involved and started harassing his customers, as well. I watched sympathetically as the drama unfolded over a span of a few months.

With a variety of tactics, the neighbors started making headway in their quest to run him off. The frequency of cars – and paying customers – slowed down. Some were afraid of the consequences that might ensue with the City Council’s authority.

One Sunday, as I cycled home from church and approached Peter’s normal spot, I looked around so I could greet him. There weren’t any cars; all was quiet.

Ah… there he was.

He sat dejectedly on the log that he uses as a bench. He held his head in his hand and had the most forlorn look on his face. Where there was normally a wide and engaging smile, today there was only a look of depression.

“Peter, what’s wrong? Where are your customers today?”

“Ai! These neighbors here. I don’t understand why they’re disturbing me. They’re chasing away my customers. Now, how can I earn my daily bread? How will my family eat?”

I walked my bike down the slight slope to where he was sitting, and shook his hand – the obligatory way to greet one another in Kenya.

“I’m not a thief. I’m not an idler,” he continued, as he clicked his tongue in frustration. “I’m using my hands to earn my daily bread. I’m making an honest living. I’m not a thief. I just don’t understand. Now, what can I do?”

Holding his hands flat together, in a prayer posture, he concluded, “I just pray to God. What else can I do? I just pray to God.”

I sympathized with him and tried to encourage him as best I could. Peter thanked me for taking the time to talk to him and I pedaled on home.

I had wanted to spruce up the area near my front door with some greenery, thinking it would bring some life in the midst of all the stone and concrete. But I needed some fertile soil and also some dried manure to enhance the condition of the current stony and dead soil. Another young man, nearby Peter’s location, had recently starting selling plants, soil, and manure – also outside and under the sun. However, lately, he was never there. I had gotten impatient to start my project.

As I ate my lunch, an idea came to me.

I grabbed a couple of plastic grocery bags and walked back over to Peter. After my inquiry, he told me that the other young man feared the City Council workers and had stopped selling his nursery stock. I asked Peter about the prices his friend was charging.

I asked if he would help carry the heavy soil to my house. Being a good-natured fellow – and with no customers in sight – he readily agreed. Once we got to my house, I also asked if he would mix the soil and manure for me. Replying in the affirmative, I dashed into my house and brought out a few basins. Peter took to this simple task with the same gusto he displays when he washes cars.

When he finished, I asked if I could give him “something small” for his help. Now – with his smile reappearing – he held out his cupped hands. I dropped in a few coins (adding up to the mere equivalent of one US dollar).

In all seriousness, Peter proclaimed, “Ha. You see, God came. I’ve been praying and He came.”

I chuckled, not sure what he really meant. It seemed like he was almost referring to me as God.

“No,” he insisted, “God came. He sent you.”

“Now I can take something home for my family. We won’t sleep hungry tonight.”

Shaking my hand in deep appreciation, he added, “Blessings on you, Madam. Thank you, thank you.”

“God came! He sent you!”

- - - - - - - - - -

You may have noticed that this story is dated July 2010. I'm only now getting around to writing it, though. It seems like I've been suffering from "writers' block". In fact, I haven't written a story for over two years!

I was actually amazed when I sat down at my laptop to put this story in to words. It just flowed, so simply and so easily. I was pleased to experience that once again.

I hope you've enjoyed the story.

Trip to the Kitale area: Matunda, Go-Down, Nzoia Scheme, Machine, and Misikhu

2011-09-22T18:57:00.030+03:00

It's different, these days, when I travel to the Kitale area.... since I vacated my mud hut in February. But, God is so cool! Simultaneous to no longer having my own house to stay in... he led me to discover the Karibuni Kenya guesthouse. I absolutely love it!

Relaxing with a good book from their library and a hot cup of tea.

My room for this visit. Last time I had a room in the main house.

Faith, Tony, Sinclair

On my way from Matunda to Nzoiza Scheme - on the back of a motorbike taxi - I happened to see Sinclair (a brother to Martin) in the Go-Down area. Or, I should say, Sinclair happened to see me... and hollered. I had Wycliff (my taxi driver) wait a bit so I could stop by the house. Only Faith and Tony were there, but it was good to see them after so long. (Martin, plus Mary and Zadok, weren't around.)

Ken, Helen, Mary, and Joan

I took Ken and Joan (the couple that now stay in my former mud hut) to meet my friend, Mary Alu. They've heard me speak often of her and also of Nzoia Scheme (the area where she lives). It was a nice outing for all of us. We also met Mary's friend and neighbor, Helen.

I spent the night at Mary's house. In the morning - after a lot of rain overnight - the roads were a mess! Wycliff really struggled to make it through the slippery slop without us falling over! The photos don't do it justice, at all. It was actually quite treacherous. Another boda boda (motorbike taxi) driver asked Wycliff (in Swahili), "Do you really think you'll make it?" Wycliff ignored him, keeping his full attention on his driving. I've always had complete trust in his skills!

The slippery road in the Machine area

Interestingly, "Machine" is the actual name of the village market area.

Pretty view of maize and Mt. Elgon, from my hotel room balcony at Misikhu.

I spent a couple of days with Agnes and her boys at Misikhu. I sympathized with some of her recent struggles, but also rejoiced with her regarding her good watermelon crop. After the watermelon was harvested, she planted peanuts on the same piece of land. She also awaits her maize harvest. Additionally I tried to encourage her regarding some issues with her oldest son, Tony.

Adu (short for Anderson)

Duane, Adu, Agnes, and Zach

Pope (short for Popino) and Duane

Duane, eating lunch

Zach, having fun with an empty box

Friends: American, Kenyan, Sudanese, British... and the non-human variety

2011-09-20T17:14:00.097+03:00

I am blessed with such diverse friends in Kenya! I think it's great to be able to interact with so many folks from so many countries, cultures, and walks of life. God truly used his creativity when he populated the earth.

I met Tom and Scott here in Kenya - several years ago - through Bishop. In fact, I've come to know many neat people through him. Tom and Scott have continued to visit Kenya off and on, and were recently here once again. I got to hang out with them for a good part of a day. We walked a mile or so to the Donholm Steers... specifically so Tom could get one of their ice cream cones. Once we arrived, we happened to meet Bishop and Ken. We first had lunch... and then topped it off with ice cream!

I first met Denise at Brackenhurst Retreat Center, near Limuru, in July 2010. We've recently spent a fair amount of time together and have gotten to know one another better. These photos are from one of the days we spent together... celebrating her birthday!

After a 'cuppa' at Coffee World, we strolled down to the National Gallery. We leisurely browsed an exhibit there called "Kanga Stories: The Cloth that Reveals". We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves!

And you thought I never wore dresses!

On the balcony at Trattoria.

Denise had Tortellacci ai Funghi Porcine Ricota. I had Quattro Stagioni Pizza. They were superb!

We capped off our day at Sno Cream (built in the 1950's. Their ice cream is the best in Kenya!

Hanging out with my great friends - Emily, Martin, Michael, and Kim.

Also Deng...

... and Mawien

... and Teresia and Rosalie

... and Robert (all the way from Tanzania)

... and Teresia again - this time with our former neighbor, Anne

... and Linet

... and Margaret and Carol

... and Sammy and Emily.

I have always loved praying mantises. I find them so intriguing and fascinating. This one has been hanging out on my veranda for a few weeks. He seems to like my paint cans and stirring stick for some reason. Sometimes I forget he's there and toss my painting rag on top of him... or accidentally knock him to the side of a paint can. Undeterred, he remains in his favorite spot. One day, I decided to get some photos of him. It turned into a lengthy photo shoot, but he didn't mind. He just kept hanging out on my hand or arm the whole time.

I think God sent him to me to remind me of the importance of prayer. Lately, I've been doing a Bible study on the spiritual disciplines; the current discipline is prayer. Oswald Chambers has also touched on the subject recently and the past two sermons I've heard have been on the subject.

Sometimes God goes to all means to get our attention... or at least mine.

I also enjoy geckos. This quite small one was in my kitchen sink. I rescued him and relocated him outside.

This slug I could do without! I don't think it qualifies as a "friend"!

Jeremiah's birthday party and a Harambee Stars "football" match

2011-09-15T17:55:00.035+03:00

There isn't a big tradition of celebrating - or even acknowledging - birthdays in Kenya. However... I am here to bring the party, so-to-speak :)

I love baking and I love giving special recognition to my friends. I think those two things combine well in birthday parties!

It was recently Jeremiah's birthday. The whole family made the long trip across town to come to my new house. The day also included Carol (their house-help), Tina (a cousin), Rose (Tina's mom), and a friend of Rose's. We had a full house and everyone enjoyed the lasagne!

Jim lit the candles on the cake.

Jeremiah enjoyed us singing to him.

The kids gave him homemade cards.

And... we played Jenga!

Jeremiah really enjoyed himself!

Jasmine was her usual cute self.

Kenya's national "football" (soccer) team - Harambee Stars - recently had their last home AFCON 2012 qualifying match. Masudi, Jim, and I were among the crowd of fans at Nyayo Stadium.

At this moment, Kenya was behind.

Jim was thrilled - as was the whole crowd - when Kenya came from behind in extra minutes and won the match 2-1! Just as the final whistle blew, the sky opened up and down came the rain! Everyone either hustled out of the stadium for a bus or matatu home, or sought refuge anywhere they could find. It was a fun day!

Homemade pizza and giraffe kisses

2011-09-13T17:29:00.000+03:00

Masudi has been taking college classes to learn how to be a chef. He recently came to my house to try his hand at homemade pizza! He had two assistants - budding chefs themselves - Jim and Dennis. All four of us enjoyed consuming the end result!

Kneading the dough for the crust.

Jim also loves to cook and lent his assistance.

Dennis used a can opener for the first time.

The three chefs were quite pleased with how it turned out!

Watch a video of the three chefs at work... and proudly admiring the finished product!

Joanie, my missionary-friend from Nyahururu, and her friend, Irungu, came for an overnight visit. We all went to the nearby Giraffe Center. It's always a fun outing.

Joanie, getting one of many "kisses" from a giraffe.

A rather large leg bone from a giraffe.

Dennis enjoyed giving them their treats.

Be sure to watch a fun video of Joanie getting "kissed" by one of the giraffes!

The Young Boy, 2006

2011-09-09T19:20:00.002+03:00

I’d had a good day, but a long one. It included some good fellowship with two friends. I also accomplished several errands. Tired, I headed home on a #24 matatu. I settled into my seat for the hour ride.

As we bumped over the rough roads, our driver and conductor were in more of a hurry than normal. In an attempt to quickly pad their pockets for the day’s take, the conductor rushed each and every passenger that boarded or alighted. The driver took no concern for our comfort as he roughly maneuvered the twists and turns in the road.

As one man boarded, the conductor roughly grabbed his young son and hurriedly put him in the vehicle. “Simama hapa.” (Stand here.) Children do actually stand most of the time, to avoid being charged fare. However, our conductor was unnecessarily rough with this young boy.

Others jostled either getting in or out; the conductor hung out the open side door, soliciting more riders. Our vehicle pulled back onto the road roughly. The young boy - staring intently at me - looked shaken by the ordeal. I grinned, while simultaneously wondering if he might cry.

For the longest time he maintained a somber look, all the while keeping his eyes glued to me. Eventually his expression softened a bit.

A man sitting between the four-year old boy and I placed the child’s hand onto the seat in front of him. “Shika.” (Hold.) The young boy absentmindedly complied but immediately looked back at me. He mustered a small, fleeting smile.

Suddenly, he offered a full-fledged grin to match mine. He let go of the seat in front of him and tapped his dad on the shoulder, “Baba, baba!” (Dad, Dad!) Immediately the man between us placed the boy’s small hand back on the seat in front of him. The way our driver handled the vehicle, this was a prudent move on the young boy’s behalf.

The boy repeated his attempts to raise his dad’s attention by again removing his hand from the seat to tap him on the shoulder. “Baba, baba!” I’m quite sure he wanted to add, “Ona mzungu!” (Look at the white person!)

The man between us, oblivious to the interaction between the young boy and myself, again placed the child’s hand onto the seat. The boy did not take his eyes off of me. His now infectious grin remained.

He couldn’t restrain himself. Once more he removed his hand from the seat in front of him. This time though, instead of tapping his father’s shoulder, his hand went to his open mouth. Behind the hand, his mouth was now in a permanent smile. He was apparently astonished, not only to see a white person, but to be in such close proximity. Pure, unqualified joy radiated from his face.

The man between us diligently put the boy’s hand back on the seat in front of him, kindly but firmly repeating, “Shika”. And once more, the young boy absentmindedly complied. However, after only a few seconds, he removed it from the seat and returned it to his open, smiling mouth for the second time. The scene repeated itself many times; it was truly comical.

All the while, the driver recklessly hurried down the road. The conductor continued to harshly tell the passengers, “Haraka, haraka”. (Hurry, hurry.) Like a game of musical chairs, people continued to board and alight. The old Kikuyu woman with her two large kiondo was likely too tired to care after a day-long attempt to earn her daily bread. Uttering, “Ai,” she difficultly squeezed her large frame past the young boy. The polio victim in front of me, with one of his legs badly shriveled, was likewise unaware of what was going on. He perhaps contemplated how he’d manage his two sizeable boxes of goods as he hobbled home on his homemade walking stick.

Even the young boy’s father knew nothing about our delightful, albeit silent, connection. No one was aware - except the young boy and me. We were alone in our enjoyment, in the midst of chaos.

The incident truly touched my heart. What simple ecstasy. The boy’s wonderful smile and unadulterated amazement made me completely forget how tired I was. A tear or two rolled down my cheek as I thanked the Lord for such wonderfully common experiences here in Kenya.

May I never be too tired or preoccupied that I miss out on such encounters with another soul.

- - - - - - - - -

My friend, Kim, and I met recently to chat about my second book. He told me which stories he especially enjoyed... and this one - "The Young Boy" - was one of his favorites. As we took a look at the story, it occurred to me that it had happened in the Hardy area. In fact, the young boy and his father boarded the matatu on Ushirika Road, which is the road I now live off of.

I thought that - perhaps - some of you would also enjoy re-reading it.

I sure did.

My new house

2011-08-30T11:08:00.002+03:00

I recently "shifted" (as they say here in Kenya) to a new house. I had been at my previous place for just short of four years. I liked it, but it was becoming increasingly crowded and noisy. It was time for a new environment... especially one characterized by quietness!

Three kids in my old neighborhood. I'll especially miss Philip (on the left)!

I'll also miss meeting my friend, Ruth, under this acacia tree - a 3-minute walk from my old house.

The movers loaded up things from my old house...

... and delivered them to my new house (about a 20-minute drive away).

First on the agenda on moving day, was to relax with a cup of tea!

The boxes and bags would wait!

This is the approach to my house... from the lane off of the main road.

My house is considered a "guesthouse" and shares the compound with a "main house". My British landlord has lived in Kenya for over 20 years. He's a nice guy... he even lets me harvest from his vegetable garden! And I absolutely love fresh beets!

Every single wall of the house was white when I took the place. Very boring (in my opinion) and very much in need of a new look! And... I just so happen to love painting! I finally finished one coat in all the rooms. I now need to do the second coat. I also still have eight boxes to unpack. Hmm... life goes on. I'm trying to squeeze in all the work in between everything else. But it's been a lot of fun to watch it take shape!

Before and after painting in the living room.

Another corner of the living/sitting room.

Before and after painting in the kitchen.

Before and after painting in the bathroom.

the very blue bedroom

Clothes hanging on the line. I need to plant some grass, huh?

Some plants I dug up (from my old place) and potted.

Karibu ! Please come and visit me sometime! We can have a cup of tea!

Thompson Falls, Nyahururu

2011-08-18T18:21:00.002+03:00

I love seeing new places... especially in Kenya! It's a land with so, so much beauty. I had never been to Nyahururu to see Thompson Falls... so Michael, Kim, and I recently headed that direction for a fun two-day adventure. I believe it's always good to get away from the normal routine. It refreshes our soul and invigorates our energy!

The cheesy requisite "tourist" photo

We had a strenuous hike to the bottom (and back up), but it was beautiful!

The three of us had a great time!

So much green... especially from the mist!

We capped off our day with delicious "nyama choma"!

We viewed gorgeous scenery on the way to and fro. This is the Aberdares mountain range

Joanie (who hosted us) is with my same sending agency, Ripe for Harvest.

Click here to see a video of the waterfall.

Higher education and go-karts

2011-08-15T18:05:00.002+03:00

Those two things naturally go together, don't they - higher education and go-karts? Actually I'm just trying to get caught up on photos to share with you. So, I thought I'd combine two subjects in one post.

Kim, on the campus of United States International University

Masudi and some of his classmates

Masudi is learning how to be a chef!

GP Karting is so much fun! What an adrenaline rush!

Sam was our winner, Hannah a close 2nd, and Stewart #3!

I came in 4th, Michael 5th, Emily 6th, and Moses brought up the rear.

I'm sure this won't be our last time there!

One baby shower, two anniversaries, and four birthdays

2011-08-11T19:17:00.002+03:00

Getting together with friends is such an important part of life! And a good excuse to do that is to celebrate the important days in the lives of our friends - days like the upcoming arrival of a baby entering the world, wedding anniversaries, and the birthdays of the young and the not-so-young.

Ladies from my church helping Lindy get ready for her baby

Celebrating George and Linet's anniversary with them

Celebrating Jeremiah and Carol's anniversary

Joy recently turned five years old!

Margaret and Carol helped me celebrate my birthday!

Davis, Gladys, Esther, Bishop, Angela, Cyrus, Margaret

Having fun with Bishop as he turned another year older

Click here to watch a video from Bishop's birthday!

Carol also added one year to her tally

Joy, Jeremiah, Jasmine, and Jim rounding out the family

Jasmine enjoyed the birthday party!

... and so did Joy!

Masudi also joined us...

... and so did cousin, Tina.

Jim moving his bedding... time to sleep!

Click here to watch a video from Carol's birthday!

A brand new nation, Jenga, and Scrabble

2011-08-08T18:28:00.000+03:00

Hanging out with one another is such a great way to deepen and enrich relationships. Cooking together, sharing meals, playing games, and laughing are to fun ways to facilitate this. I do a lot of those things with my many friends in Kenya!

Good times with my Sudanese friends

Mawien and Deng, plus Michael

Chol and Maluk, plus Jacob (from Omaha... on his way to South Sudan)

Kerubino (with his voting ID) - excited about the new nation of South Sudan!

Deng, Chol, Mawien, Maluk, and Kerubino celebrating the new nation!

Playing games - Jenga and Scrabble

Carol concentrating

Jim, completely focused!

Joy, trying her hand at the game

Jasmine, oblivious to it all!

Rose and I making chicken nuggets

Sammy crushed the cracker crumbs

The video is the final moments of a tense Jenga game between Sammy and I!

Michael was the first winner of our traveling Scrabble trophy

He was also the second... and THIRD winner! Ugh!

YES! Finally, Moses unseated him and is now the proud owner of the trophy!

Terran, 33 days visiting me in Kenya

2011-07-11T16:34:00.001+03:00

Terran Charles Hattaway is my oldest grandchild. Sixteen years ago, I was present as he made his grand entrance into the world! What a delight it has been to watch him grow up and mature into a fine young man!

During the month of June, Terran visited me in Kenya. It was his second time to do so... the first being 2004, when he was nine-years old. Both times he adapted well to my life here.

He has now lived in Delhi, India for two years with his parents, sister, and brother. He has become a seasoned traveler and has come to understand the world outside his country of origin. I think it's great he's had such opportunities.

Instead of cartoons, Terran grew up watching Animal Planet, National Geographic, and the History Channel. He has always been very intelligent and quite well read. His Papa (my dad) exposed him to such things as physics and hydraulics and a general sense of wonder about the world and how things work.

Extremely savvy about current world news, the latest technologies, and new discoveries in science... Terran can carry on an adult conversation with anyone... about virtually any subject. He has very astute problem-solving skills. He is also very social and engages well with folks of all ages and all walks of life. Quite self-confident, he is comfortable in any setting and circumstance.

He has an interesting blend of diverse interests... a rare young man who loves both books and sports. He devours magazines like "Popular Mechanics". Terran's mind seemingly never goes to sleep... as he absorbs and understands virtually everything he reads. He truly is a product of his generation, growing up in the "information age".

Terran is at that age when he will start to face many decisions about his future. Which road will he choose? What educational opportunities will he pursue? Which occupation? Where will he choose to settle down?

What will he choose as his purpose in life? What values will he esteem and hold high? What mark will he leave on humanity?

"Grandparents are proud of their grandchildren."

- Proverbs 17:6 (Good News)

How true that is! I am very proud of each one of my grandchildren... Terran included!

"Good people will have wealth to leave to their grandchildren."

- Proverbs 13:22 (Good News)

In terms of monetary value, I don't own very much in this world. For instance, I own two bicycles... but I don't own a house or a car. I used to own a mud hut (made out of dirt, sticks, and grass)... but I recently gave it away.

In the absence of such "wealth", I hope to leave to each one of my grandchildren:

a contagious excitement about life
an adventurous spirit
a sense of anticipation for what's around the next bend

I pray that they will learn from me:

to embrace all that God created them to be
to be generous to others who need a helping hand
to always offer love and understanding... instead of judgment
to love their neighbor the same way they love themselves
to be a servant... putting the needs of others ahead of their own
to take the time to look people in the eye
and to listen to those they meet along the way

Terran, meeting my friends

2011-07-09T18:25:00.023+03:00

My work in Kenya is ALL about relationships... long-term friendships over the course of many life events... the struggles and the joys... births and birthdays... weddings and funerals... the ups and the downs...

Basically it can be summed up by saying God sent me here to obey the second-greatest commandment - "Love your neighbor as yourself".

So... during the 33 days that Terran was with me, we spent quite a bit of time with my friends. Those he had met during his first visit to Kenya in 2004, were thrilled to see him again. And those that he met for the first time were equally thrilled to meet him!

These photos are just a small sampling of the many friends of mine with whom Terran and I visited.

Masudi, Jeremy, Derrick, Linet, and George on top of KICC (a tall building)

Harold, Dedan, and "Mr. Comedian", my hawker friends at Karen shops

Agnes' son, Duane, who is named for my dad

Duane, plus Adu and Zach (two more of Agnes' sons)

Carol and Jeremiah's 7-month old daughter, Jasmine

Carol and Jeremiah's children, Joy (5) and Jim (16)

My good friends, Margaret and Bishop

Getting ready to have an absolute blast riding go-karts with Michael

Collins, who now works for Coca-Cola

Learning about micro-finance loans at Turning Point (an NGO) with Moses

A nice photo after having pizza and ice cream with Masudi, Rose, and Sammy

Nathan and his wife, Alice, in the Matunda area

Three of Mary Alu's grandsons, at Nzoia Scheme

I enjoyed watching Terran interact with my many friends. He was very gracious and polite as he met everyone, quickly extending his hand to greet them. He has a natural knack for conversation and fit in quite easily in each of the various settings.

Terran, exposure to Nairobi slums

2011-07-08T17:17:00.002+03:00

Kenya is a land of much poverty. Whether you're in the rural agricultural parts of the country or in the crowded urban centers... poverty and its effects are everywhere.

During Terran's 33 days with me, I felt it would be profitable to give him some exposure to the poverty found in two of Nairobi's largest slums. We did so in an up-close and personal way... hanging out and laughing with some of the residents.

My good friends, Carol and Jeremiah, pastor a small church in Mukuru kwa Njenga - one of Nairobi's slums. I enjoy attending their church services and worshiping God in the traditional Kenyan way.

I took Terran to their church one Sunday morning.

Terran really enjoyed interacting with the kids!

Buying sugar cane for Joy and the other children at the church

Getting to the church isn't easy, with no proper roads!

The boys really enjoyed him...

... and so did the girls!

"The Turning Point Trust is a fantastic charity working with street-children and their families in Kibera slum, Kenya. They believe in working to meet the needs of individual children and supporting people to become the instigators of their own success."

I know several of the folks involved at Turning Point and they agreed that it would be a great idea for Terran to spend some time there. He visited on three occasions - helping with a jewelry project one of the days, serving tea a couple of times, and playing with the kids all three times!

Moving around Kibera is also not an easy task.

Terran: adventures of cycling, hiking, camping, and snorkeling

2011-07-07T17:55:00.000+03:00

One of the goals I had during Terran's 33 days with me was to share some adventures! We had three memorable cycling experiences, two challenging hiking outings, a night of camping, and a great hour of snorkeling. I hope these few photos will suffice to somewhat represent our many fun adventures.

The two photos above are from a 3-hour cycling tour we did with Cycle Kenya at Mtwapa (on the north coast). Two guides went with us on the grueling, exhilarating, and challenging tour.

We spent two days at Hell's Gate National Park. We cycled for several hours exploring the beautiful terrain. We were able to cycle right up close to the many wild animals - zebra, giraffe, Thompson gazelle, Hart's gazelle, warthogs, guinea fowl, and buffalo. We also did a strenuous three-hour hike in the gorge and camped overnight... with about eight zebra grazing right outside our tent!

Mt. Elgon National Park was another site for a hiking adventure. It took three hours of uphill trekking to reach our destination - Kitum cave. On the way, we saw many wild animals - water buck, crowned cranes, baboon, bush buck, colobus monkeys, and blue monkeys... plus many bats in the cave. We were tired and muddy at the end... but thoroughly enjoyed it nonetheless!

Another location for a cycling adventure was Ngong Hills, fairly near my house in Nairobi. It is a very strenuous climb from 6,000 feet in elevation to 8,000 feet. Frequent stops to rest are basically a requirement. In the second photo, Terran is looking out over the Great Rift Valley. It's a stunning sight!

Last - but far from least - was our snorkeling adventure at Kisite-Mpunguti Marine National Park near Wasini Island. It's a one-hour boat ride out to the coral reef where the fish are so amazingly spectacular! We capped off the day with an absolutely delicious seafood lunch at Coral Spirit restaurant, back on the island.

Terran: exposure to education

2011-07-05T18:02:00.004+03:00

Terran is currently 16 and will be a junior next year. This is the age when many start considering which particular field of study or future career they might want to focus on. One of the aims of his stay with me was to expose him to some of the struggles of getting an education in Kenya as well as a few ways to challenge his own thoughts.

We visited Turning Point, an NGO in Kibera (one of Nairobi's large slums). Some friends from my church run the NGO and a couple of other friends of mine work there. Many children living is such slums are unable to attend school for a variety of reasons. One of the primary goals of Turning Point is to prepare children for primary or secondary school. During our three visits, Terran interacted with the kids and did a bit of volunteering.

Tony is my friend, Agnes', oldest son. Even though he's 18, due to many circumstances outside of his control, he's only reached eighth grade. Undeterred by being one of the oldest students in his class, he is very determined to reach secondary school! Terran offered to pay for the five "revision" books Tony needs to prepare for his Class 8 exams this November.

We also visited Harvest Secondary School in the Mtoni area of Matunda, where Terran spoke to the entire student body. Not only were they thrilled to hear his answers to their questions, they also gleaned some good principles from what he shared. For instance: "Life is always full of challenges. We should just accept them and move on."

We spent the night with my friend, Mary Alu, at Nzoia Scheme. Terran and her grandson, Brian, had a nice conversation while he was doing his homework. Terran picked up on the fact that Brian's interests seem to be pointing him in the direction of some sort of international work. Terran encouraged him to pursue that field. In the photo, Brian is doing his homework by the light of a single lantern, like so many thousands of youngsters in the rural areas of Kenya.

My Sudanese friends, Mawien and Deng, came over one day for lunch. They shared some of the hurdles and atrocities they have faced in their short lives. They expressed their commitment to completing their education as far as they are able. They often say, "We would rather be in school than eat!" They also encouraged Terran to take full advantage of the opportunities he's been given.

I took Terran to two university campuses. This photo is the Fab Lab at the University of Nairobi. Terran spent 3 hours with the guys there, as they demonstrated an environment that facilitates creativity in manufacturing anything the mind can conceive.

We also went to USIU (United States International University), where my friend, Kim is a student. Kim admitted to Terran that he doesn't particularly enjoy being in the classroom, but he sees it as a means to his goals.

Hopefully these various opportunities (and others that we experienced) will serve as a catalyst in Terran's thoughts as he explores his own future.

Terran, a few final shots of our 33 days together

2011-07-03T15:11:00.002+03:00

The guy who loves meat LOVED Carnivore Restaurant!

Buying a soda - one of many - at a roadside kiosk.

Overcoming fear to cross a rickety suspended bridge.

Enjoying a juicy medium-rare T-bone steak at Rolf's.

Creatively looking for "elbow room" on an over-crowded matatu.

Sammy and Terran can put AWAY pizza in no time flat!

Buying a treat for Joy at a duka (small shop).

Saying goodbye at Harvest Secondary School in the Matunda area.

I thoroughly and completely enjoyed Terran's and my 33 days together! I believe he did, as well. After many memorable experiences together, the time came to say goodbye.

I would absolutely love it if my other grandchildren could continue on with the tradition of visiting me in Kenya!

Miserable Missionaries

2011-05-25T17:29:00.021+03:00

In early 2008, my health started to decline. I eventually became aware that I was suffering from burnout (or physical exhaustion). As I gradually regained my health I learned that I must monitor my own physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being.

During my next furlough (time in the States), I was able to gradually recover. In the process, I learned a lot. One of the most effective measures I put into place was forming an accountability team, consisting of four women that know me well. To put it in their own words, they "have invested their lives in mine"!

A key realization we made was that I must pro-actively take frequent get-away trips. They are to be a time to unwind and refresh. A time to rest and recuperate. I think missionaries sometimes wear busyness as a badge of honor. But this is dangerous. We must give ourselves permission to set aside our busy schedules and take time to restore our souls!

And so, last month I joined my fellow-Omaha missionary friends - Julie and Ryan - for a lovely three days on Banda Island, in Lake Victoria. We had an absolutely amazing time!

"Jesus withdrew with his disciples to the lake... " (Mark 3:7)

We had ample time and opportunity to explore...

... hours upon hours to sit and read...

... favorable conditions to enter our own thoughts and enjoy good music...

... the leisure to sip a cup of tea... or two... or three...

... and a perfect setting to watch an incredible sunrise!

"Be still and know that I am God."
- Psalm 46:10

"Are you tired? Worn out? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest."
- Matthew 11:28-30 (Message)

"Emotional fatigue can result from excessive work, but more often it is simply because the out-go is greater than the intake."
- Dr. Bob Brenner

"One has to find balance between what people need from you and what you need for yourself."
- Jessye Norman

"Miserable missionaries are not very effective."
- Michelle Perry, Love Has a Face

Dom's Banda Island

2011-05-23T17:46:00.014+03:00

One of many storms we watched off in the distance

The cottage Julie and I stayed in

The three missionaries from Omaha, Nebraska!

This is Dom, the owner of the island

It's very unfortunate, but Dom passed away on May 8th (just 2.5 weeks after our very enjoyable stay with him). All three of us were very saddened when we received the news.

Dom was an amazing man. So simple and so humble. He had a very generous heart, inviting folks to visit him and enjoy his island. He was so entertaining, with incredible true stories of his life. He was a great cook, making each of our meals a work of art. He told me so many things about the various birds on the island; he knew not only their common names, but their scientific names, as well.

I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to meet him and to stay on his wonderful island!

Dom cooking over a wood fire

You can see Dom has both Julie and I grinning; it's a natural talent of his

I think a person could sit and listen to Dom's stories for hours. We sure did.

Dom uses a "torch" so we could see what we scooped up in the near dark

Dom welcomes more guests as they arrive.

Dominc Symes - a great host and a great guy!

Ssese Islands, our boat rides

2011-05-19T17:05:00.012+03:00

Boarding our boat taxi was an adventure in itself! There are numerous "porters" at Kasenyi Landing who offer their services to carry passengers from the dry land to the boat... for a mere 20 cents! My goodness, they are sturdy and strong! You can see from the pictures below that they use a different technique for men and women.

The guy behind my porter is carrying most of our bags. The white plastic bags contain groceries that we carried to Banda Island at the owner's request. Another guy carried the rest of the groceries.

Safely onboard!

The ride was long and somewhat tiresome. Julie had a bout of motion sickness from the very rough water. Our boat really swayed to the left and the right... back and forth... and up and down. It was almost dark by the time we got to our first stop, another island. From there, we shifted to a private-hire boat for the last 20 minutes.

The next series of photos are from our boat ride going back to Kasenyi Landing... after our stay on Banda Island. In the photo above, we are on the private-hire boat in the foreground. It came up alongside the larger boat, and while a few hands held the two boats side-by-side, we climbed onboard.

Ryan carried on an entertaining conversation with some of the passengers, many of whom were fishermen.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then a video must be worth at least 10,000 words. I believe you will enjoy the four videos I took at Kasenyi Landing, as we were carried on-board and as we headed out on the boat.

There is also a video of a storm on the island. We had to wait it out before we could leave.

Click here to access all five of them.

Ssese Islands, Kasenyi Landing

2011-05-18T21:32:00.000+03:00

The Ssese Islands are a cluster of eighty-four islands in the northwest portion of Lake Victoria. Forty-three of the islands are inhabited. The largest island, Bugala, is 25 miles in length.

The Islands are inhabited by the Bantu-speaking Bassese tribe. In ancient times the islands were one of the most important spiritual centers of the region.

The principal industry in the Ssese Islands is fishing for the huge Nile Perch, with much of the catch being exported.

We took two motorbike taxis plus a matatu to get from Ryan's apartment in Kampala to Kasenyi Landing, near Entebbe. The landing is where we would get a boat taxi to our destination - Banda Island.

The landing is a busy place, with all types of cargo being loaded onto the many boats.

Ryan is ready for our four-hour boat ride in the sun!

Kampala, exploring the city, part 2

2011-05-12T17:55:00.029+03:00

Kampala is the largest city (1.6 million people) and capital of Uganda. The city is said to be built on seven hills, although as the population continues to grow it's now more like 24 hills. Kampala has a diverse ethnic population, although the Buganda - the local ethnic group - make up over 60% of the greater Kampala region.

This is the view from Ryan's apartment balcony.

One day we hopped on 3 motorbike taxis to head out for lunch. While we ate our two scrumptious pizzas at a nice outdoor Italian place, a plane did aerobatic flight maneuvers right overhead. Although we're not sure what the occasion was, we enjoyed the entertainment.

A clever sign indicating the location of the men's "water closet".

One evening, we again hopped on 3 motorbike taxis to have dinner at Ryan's favorite pork joint. The pork is in the round compartment in the center. Starting in the upper righthand corner of my tray and going around clockwise, there's also avocado, matooke (cooked banana) with a sauce, a small pile of salt, cassava, greens, and sliced tomato. ALL very delicious and very inexpensive!

We also stopped by Ryan's favorite "street food" spot! There were numerous small kiosks preparing a large variety of foods and also a few selling other items. In this photo, I'm waiting for the young man to prepare a "rollex" - a clever way to say "rolled eggs". It consists of 2 fried eggs with chopped tomato, rolled up in a chapati. It was quite delicious!

Ryan is a diehard Manchester United "football" fan. Julie and I joined him one evening to watch Man U vs. Manchester City in the FA Cup Semi-finals (the most prestigious knockout tournament in England). He took us to one of his favorite hangouts - Yigona Guest House in the Mutundwe neighborhood. The place was jam-packed with well over 100 fans... all eyes glued on one of two TV sets. Manchester United lost to their local rivals Manchester City 1-0. It was an upset of sorts and Ryan was a bit disappointed with the outcome.

While we were in Kampala, there was a lot of unrest in the city. In many locations, we saw a lot of armed police and military. This large armored vehicle is designed to shoot teargas at crowds. The cost of basic commodities and the price of fuel has been spiraling in Uganda. Low-income families are really struggling to survive. Peaceful "walk to work" demonstrations have been held in the city twice a week during much of April. One of President Museveni's key opponents - Kizza Besigye - has been arrested numerous times as he participates in the demonstrations. Museveni ordered the police to crack down on the demonstrators, causing rioting, injuries, and even some deaths.

If you want to see some great videos from Kampala, please visit my video page!

You'll find a video of the flooded downtown streets that Julie and I encountered the morning we left the city, two very fun - and spontaneous - traditional dances at the church we attended, my wild and crazy motorbike-taxi ride in the downtown traffic, and one of a child entertaining himself with an old tire. Enjoy!

Kampala, exploring the city

2011-05-01T21:23:00.006+03:00

"Walking always on the same path spoils it."

- Ugandan proverb

I've always enjoyed seeing what's around the next bend in the road. My mom says that when I was very young, my mantra was often, "Gotta see, gotta see! All the time, gotta see!"

And so... I was excited to see Uganda for the first time! It is Kenya's neighbor to the west and is a part of the East Africa Community (along with Kenya, Tanzania, Rwanda, and Burundi).

This photo is at the border crossing at Busia, Kenya and Busia, Uganda. The large billboard is Yoweri Museveni, Uganda's president. He was recently re-elected for a fourth term; he has already been in office for 25 years! The young men in the pink shirts are bicycle boda boda (taxi) drivers. They're eagerly waiting for customers.

One of two large bus parks in downtown Kampala; so much more organized than any in Nairobi!

Under each of these large umbrellas is someone selling their wares in the bus park

The three photos above are of a large street market area

Sikh temple

Shopping at a large outdoor produce market

Kampala, seeing a bit of Ryan's ministry

2011-05-01T20:15:00.005+03:00

Julie (from Omaha) - a missionary in Kisumu, Kenya - and I recently traveled to Kampala, Uganda to visit Ryan (also a missionary from Omaha). It was our third time to be together. In October 2010, we spent time together in both Nairobi and Kisumu.

In case you missed those blog posts, click here for our time together in Nairobi and here for our time together in Kisumu.

We've now had the privilege of each of us visiting each of the others ministry work. In so doing, I believe we are an encouragement to one another!

We all think it's pretty neat that God introduced us to one another and... that we all serve in East Africa and... that we've all become friends!

Julie and I joined Ryan's weekly Bible study with the youth he works with

We also had the privilege to meet Pastor Abel (left) and his father, Kiyemba. Abel heads up Raven's Ministries, which is the NGO under which Ryan serves. Abel and his wife had us over for lunch one day.

This is Abel's wife, Mildred, and their last-born (of three daughters), Suubi (which means "hope" in their language, Luganda). We had a really nice visit with them and enjoyed the great food that Abel cooked!

Ryan befriended Dan, a one-time street boy. Dan comes to Ryan's apartment every Saturday to do Ryan's laundry and some light house-cleaning. Ryan says that - in Dan's eyes - the small amount that he pays him is like "pennies from heaven".

Since it didn't work for us to visit Pastor Abel's church, we went to Robert's church, Showers of Blessing. Robert is Ryan's primary boda boda (motorbike taxi) driver, as well as his good friend. In this photo, Julie is greeting the congregation as a first-time visitor.

After the church service, we went to Robert's house for lunch. This photo is Robert, his wife, Noreen, and their daughter, Tracy. They served us chicken... plus many delicious side dishes, including the Uganda staple - matooke (cooked green bananas).

On Saturday, the day before we had lunch at their house, Ryan bought this live chicken for our lunch. This is the - quite normal - way that Robert carried it home - tied to the back of his motorbike!

You may have a hard time believing it... but Robert is actually opening this bottle of soda with his teeth! I've also seen many Kenyans do the same. OUCH!

Robert gave us a "push" as we left his house. We were headed to the stage to get a boda boda (motorbike taxi) to go back to Ryan's house.

Julie on one of MANY motorbike taxis

Ripe for Harvest, my sending agency

2011-04-25T16:44:00.004+03:00

Ripe for Harvest is the missions sending agency that I've been with for over 8 years. I am one of over 200 missionaries serving with this organization. Almost two years ago, Gregg Verbeff became the Field Director (a newly-created position). One of his responsibilities is to visit each missionary in the foreign field where they serve. His first-ever visit to the continent of Africa was to visit 5 RFH missionaries in East Africa - Uganda and Kenya. Gregg's 19-year old son, Hunter, also traveled with him. My friend Ryan (serving in Kampala, Uganda with Ravens Ministries) was the first missionary they visited.

I recently had the privilege of spending two days with Gregg and Hunter. It was very encouraging to me to meet them and to introduce them to just a few of the folks with whom God has me in relationship here in Kenya. On Sunday, we attended Jeremiah's and Carol's 4-hour church service

Gregg shares a few words with Jeremiah's congregation

Then Gregg treated all of us to a wonderful "nyama choma" (roasted meat) lunch at City Cabanas. The nine of us consumed two whole chickens, one goat leg, and a platter of greasy and yummy goat ribs! Plus lots of chips (french fries) and mukimo (mashed potatoes that are green because of the greens blended in). We also enjoyed a live band from the Congo playing Lingala music, in addition to their accompanying acrobats. Click here to watch a short video of our lunch.

Hunter, Gregg, Derrick, and Jim arriving at City Cabanas

Joy enjoyed her chicken and chips!

Jeremiah and Jasmine

Derrick and Jim ate to their hearts' content!

On Monday, we hooked up with Joe at Java House for coffee and cake. Joe was able to share
a bit about his life history and his current circumstances and difficulties. We had a wonderful time of fellowship over great food and drink. I believe Gregg was able to encourage Joe.

We next met Masudi at Walkers, where he and I often meet over lunch. While we all consumed our delicious fried chicken, we also had a great conversation. Gregg gave Masudi some ideas for a future restaurant after he finishes his college course on becoming a chef. We especially discussed the idea of a pizza joint with a wood-burning oven.

Hunter, Gregg, and Masudi

Celebrating birthdays

2011-04-21T16:27:00.021+03:00

One of my favorite things to do in Kenya is to create simple birthday parties for my friends. There isn't much of a culture of celebrating birthdays here in Kenya. I guess it gets lost in the shuffle of surviving one day at a time and just living daily life. So... I bring the party! Sometimes they happen at my house, sometimes at their house, and sometimes at a restaurant. If we celebrate in someone's house, I make cake, cookies, or brownies. Yummy!

Emily

On March 6th, after a baptism at our church, my former homegroup had a reunion. We also celebrated Emily and Kim's birthdays. There were 12 of us in my small house. We had such a great time! In fact, I was enjoying myself so much... that this photo of Emily is THE only one I took! I did make a short video, though, of us singing "Happy Birthday" to the two of them. Click here to view it.

Masudi's birthday is March 14th

Rose and I helped Masudi celebrate his birthday. We also helped him eat the "Tuesday-buy-one-get-one-free" Pizza Inn pizza! And... we each had a scrumptious Creamy Inn "Perky Peanut Parfait"!

Collins turned 20 on March 30th

After "Wacky Wednesday" burgers at Steers, the five of us - Sammy, Rose, Collins, Masudi, and I - walked across downtown Nairobi to Sno Cream. It has existed in the same location since 1954! They serve all sorts of ice cream - a selection to meet anyone's taste preference! I was disciplined and got a bowl of fresh fruit.

Margaret, Jim, and Derrick's birthdays are all on the same week

Derrick and Jim spent a weekend with me. We had great fun on Saturday! First stop was Uhuru Garden for some Kenya history. The park was created to honor Kenya's 1963 independence.

Our next stop was Splash Water World - a first for all of us. Unknown to us, there was a special event going on. It seemed as if half of Nairobi was there! No problem - the more the merrier!

The event was to promote reading among children. The boys each got a free book of local poetry and I also bought them each an issue of a new children's magazine.

The boys liked the water slides - a first for both of them. But they spent the majority of their time in the pool - a very rare experience.

Good times with friends!

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Jeremiah and Jasmine (2 months old)

Carol and Jasmine

Joy (three above photos are from February 2nd)

The pastor at my church in Nairobi, Doug, baptizing Emily (March 6)

Moses asked the questions (in Swahili) for some of the baptism candidates

Carol and I visited Ben and Vera in Kijabe (March 17)

Vera with Jasmine (3.5 months old) and David (1 year old)

It was Jasmine's first time to travel out of Nairobi

Moses, Rose, Emily, and I played a competitive game of Scrabble recently

I took Jim to the Kenya-Angola "football" (soccer) match at Nyayo stadium

Hudson Taylor quotes

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James Hudson Taylor (1832 – 1905), was a British Protestant Christian missionary to China, and founder of the China Inland Mission. Taylor spent 51 years in China. The society that he began was responsible for bringing over 800 missionaries to the country who began 125 schools. Taylor was known for his sensitivity to Chinese culture and zeal for evangelism.

"Missionary work is indeed the noblest any mortal can engage in. We certainly cannot be insensible to the ties of nature, but should we not rejoice when we have anything we can give up for the Savior?"

"I cannot tell you, I cannot describe how I long to be a missionary… to spend and be spent for him who died for me!"

"The occasional difficulty about funds never came from an insufficient supply for personal needs, but in consequence of ministering to the wants of scores of the hungry and dying around us. And trials far more searching in other ways eclipsed these difficulties and being deeper brought forth in consequence richer fruits."

"Depend upon it – God’s work, done in God’s way, will never lack God’s supplies."

"Pray the Lord ever to give me the single eye, the clear judgment, the wisdom and gentleness, the patient spirit, the unwavering purpose, the unshaken faith, the Christ-like love needed for the efficient discharge of my duties."

"What, can Jesus meet my need? Yes, and more than meet it. No matter how intricate my path, how difficult my service; no matter how sad my bereavement, how far away my loved ones; no matter how helpless I am, how deep are my soul yearnings – Jesus can meet all, all, and more than meet."

"It is no small comfort to me to know that God has called me to my work, putting me where I am and as I am. I have not sought the position and I dare not leave it. He knows why he places me here – whether to do, or learn, or suffer."

"I often think that God must be looking for someone small enough and weak enough for him to use, and that he found me."

[Note - Photo taken from bing images. Description of Hudson Taylor's life taken from Wikipedia. Quotes are from "Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret".]

Kenyans pay 25% more (since 3 months ago)

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(excerpts taken from the Daily Nation, April 2011; article by Luke Mulunda)

As debate rages over the rising cost of living, the true picture of how Kenyans are paying through the nose to put food on the table is emerging. Comparative calculation of the rise in prices of basic commodities shows an average 25% jump in their cost between January 1 and April 20, further squeezing households budgets that are running on falling incomes or stagnant salaries.

Economically speaking, this means from the model low-income budget of $36 in January, a household is spending $9.00 more to buy the same quantity and quality of items.

Between January and April 20, the price of sugar, one of the widely used commodities by households, rose from an average of $2.00 - $3.50. The price of a 2-pound packet of maize floor has increased by an average of 10 cents between January and February, from 95 cents - $1.15.

According to calculations by the Consumer Federation of Kenya, the price of bread shot up by 6 cents, while tea leaves and milk went up by 12 cents and 6 cents respectively. Add the record-high fuel prices - over $5.00 per gallon - and life gets complicated for commuters and motorists.

Figures from Central Bank have pointed to life getting bumpier for Kenyans, showing inflation rising from to 9.17 in early April. Inflation has been on the rise from last October’s figure at just over 3 per cent.

This girl from a slum in Nairobi reads using a kerosene tin lamp for lighting. The price of kerosene, which many slum dwellers use for lighting has increased in the past week by 11 cents up to $1.10 per liter.

A vendor measures flour made from maize, sorghum, and millet at a market in Central Kenya. The high cost of maize has pushed the price of flour from 75 cents last month to $1.00 per two pounds.

Civil society members demonstrate in Nairobi to push the Kenyan government to lower food and fuel prices.

Kakamega Rain Forest

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Kakamega Rain Forest is in Western Province, northwest of Nairobi, and near to the border with Uganda. It is Kenya's last remnant of the ancient Guineo-Congolian rainforest that once spanned the continent.
Including reserves, the forest encloses about 90 square miles, a little less than half of which currently remains as indigenous forest. The climate is very wet with over six feet of rain annually.

Rosie and I stayed at Rondo Retreat Center, which is just on the edge of the forest.

Job was an excellent guide for our five-and-a-half-hour hike in the forest. In the above photo, he is saving an orchid so he can re-plant it. As we hiked, we happened upon several women illegally gathering firewood in the forest. The orchid was on one of the pieces of firewood. Job spoke to them very kindly about the effects that has on the forest's eco-system. A lover of the forest, he was noticeably disturbed by what the women were doing. He understands their dilemma in needing cooking fuel in order to feed their families. However, he is also very aware that such behavior will eventually destroy the already-dwindling forest.

Job speaking to one of the women

Job and my friend, Rosie

River Yala flows through the forest

As I mentioned above, we spent five-and-a-half hours on this hike. But, it wasn't all hard work. We also stopped now and then to "smell the roses", so-to-speak.

Rondo Retreat Center

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"The tranquil Rondo Retreat Centre in the Kakamega Rain Forest welcomes you to make it your home for a few memorable days. You are invited to take time from the rush of your busy life to come and contemplate nature, yourself, the world, and the works of God. Originally, Rondo was owned by a sawmiller who, in 1948, built a house at his wife’s request at the base of what was thought to be the biggest tree in the Forest - an Elgon Olive - the stump of which still stands today."

(above quote taken from Rondo's website)

Nothing better than enjoying a cup or two of chai, some good books, and listening to the sounds of the forest!

Water lilies on a small pond

We made ample time for relaxing on the lovely grounds.

Veranda on the Big House

Dining Room - The food was delicious!

"Among the vast array of birds the Kakamega Rain Forest is home to the flamboyant Great Blue Turaco, gem-like Emerald Cuckoo and the cacophonous Black-and-white Casqued Hornbill. From the monkey family we have the Blue, the Red-tailed, the common Black-and-White Colobus, and the rare deBrazza’s."

(above quote taken from Rondo's website)

Below is just a sampling of the wildlife Rosie and I enjoyed during our 2-day stay. We thoroughly enjoyed the monkeys! They were not only conspicuous, they were quite noisy. We also saw a vast array of birds that Job so efficiently spotted and identified for us; I included pictures of only two of them.

[Note: I got these five photos below from the internet.]

Blue Monkey

Red-Tailed Monkey

Black and White Colobus Monkey

Black-and-White Casqued Hornbill

Brown-Eared Woodpecker

Three-hour hike to watch the sunrise

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On our last morning, Rosie and I roused ourselves out of bed at 5:00am. The purpose was to join Job for another hike - this time through the forest and up the steep slope of Lirhanda Hill (the highest elevation in the forest). The view from the top was spectacular! Not only did we get to enjoy watching the sun peek over the horizon, but we also took pleasure in the sight of the forest canopy from up above it. Additionally, we could see the Nandi escarpment and Mt. Elgon off in the distance.

Right to left: Job and Rosie, plus another visitor and her guide

Looking down on the forest canopy

The grass in the foreground is the type used to thatch roofs on mud huts.

Malaba, on the border with Uganda

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Because Malaba is only a 20-minute walk plus a 30-minute boda boda ride from where we were at Agnes' home... and because I'd never been there... Agnes, Ronald, and I decided to do a day-trip to the border town. Malaba is the second-busiest border town between Kenya and Uganda - after Busia .

I found it all to be very interesting and was amazed when I was allowed to stroll across the border into Uganda - with no visa. We stayed for about an hour - doing a bit of shopping at the market and having a soda. I enjoyed seeing all the posters for Uganda's presidential election (which was only days away).

We took motorbike boda bodas from Acholya to Malaba (20-minute ride)

There were hundreds of lorries queuing to cross the border

I'll never cease to be amazed at what can be carried on a bike

We strolled across the bridge (over Malaba River) and into Uganda

I bought some pieces of Jack Fruit; it has a unique taste and texture

Many people were selling bananas at the small market area

A visit with Agnes to Acholya

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For several years, Agnes and I have planned to go to her family's home at Acholya. We finally made the trip in February. Three of her five sons went with us. It took 3 hours - on two vehicles - to reach the place. Then we had a 20-minute walk in the hot sun. It was my first time to Teso District. I enjoyed meeting her two brothers and their families.

Ladies selling bananas to the passengers of a bus, at Misikhu

We had a hot walk from the highway to Agnes' brother's house

Agnes and Ronald's mother died several years ago

Another brother - getting fresh milk for our chai

Pope

Duane

This cousin had malaria and didn't feel so well

Ronald making bricks out of mud; they will dry in the sun

His wife helping

Agnes admires their work

Ronald with their three boys

Ronald's wife, Agnes, and two ladies from the neighborhood

Breakfast - Pope, Duane, Zach, and Agnes

Challenging Quotes from John Wesley (1703-1791)

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"…every shilling which you needlessly spend on your apparel, is, in effect, stolen from God and the poor. And how many precious opportunities of doing good have you defrauded yourself of! How often have you disabled yourself from doing good, by purchasing what you did not [need]… I pray consider this well. Perhaps you have not seen it in this light before.

"When you are laying out that money in costly apparel, which you could have otherwise spared for the poor, you thereby deprive them of what God; the proprietor of all, had lodged in your hands for their use. If so, what you put upon yourself, you are, in effect, tearing from the back of the naked; as the costly and delicate food which you eat, you are snatching from the mouth of the hungry. For mercy, for pity, for Christ's sake, for the honor of his gospel, stay your hand. Do not throw this money away. Do not lay out on nothing, yea, worse than nothing, what may clothe your poor, naked, shivering, fellow-creature!"

(The Works of John Wesley, vol. 7, "On Dress")

"You bind your own hands. You, make it impossible for you to do that good which otherwise you might. So that you injure the poor in the same proportion as you poison your own soul. You might have clothed the naked; but what was due to them, was thrown away on your own costly apparel. You might have fed the.hungry… but the superfluities of your own table swallowed up that whereby they should have been profited. And so this wasting of thy Lord's goods is an instance of complicated wickedness; since hereby thy poor brother perisheth, for whom Christ died."

(The Works of John Wesley, vol. 8, "A Farther Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion")

"If I leave behind me ten pounds (above my debts and my books or what may happen to be due on account of them), you and all mankind bear witness against me, that I lived and died a thief and a robber."

(The Works of John Wesley, vol. 11, "An Earnest Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion")

Vacating my mud hut, week of February 14, 2011

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I realized later how fitting it was to have my final week begin on Valentine's Day

Sprucing up the compound

Over the course of three days, I had 20 such fires to burn off the rubbish

I was tuckered out!

The final load of wash hanging on the line

The final time to do dishes

The final sunset

Squeezing in some last minutes of daylight

A last time to view Mawe Tatu

Enjoying a cup of chai outside on one of the last evenings

Farewell house!

Wycliff is ready to take me to the stage at Matunda market for the last time

Through the years, I bought many supplies at Farmer's Hardware

The stage to Eldoret... nice road, huh? One of Kenya's major highways!

A portion of the market starts to wake up in the early morning hours

Farewell, Matunda market

My name is not mzungu; please call me Deb

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My friend, Ken - who is the manager of Harvest Secondary School - requested that I do a 90-minute talk to the 50+ students and 7 staff members on the final day before their mid-term break. The title of my talk was, "My name is not mzungu!"

My outline was as follows:

Who I am - I introduced my kids and grandkids (with photos), explained what God has me doing in Kenya, and told about why I've had my mud hut for the past 8.5 years.
Who I am not - I dispelled some of the many very wrong assumptions about me based solely on the color of my skin. I informed them that I don't do the same things as other white missionaries.
Prejudice - We discussed the meaning - pre-judging - and looked up Scriptures about rumors and gossip. I informed them that - contrary to popular belief - I am NOT the sponsor of the school.
Uniqueness - God made each one of us different; we should not be lumped into large categories based on our race, gender, if they're from the village, etc. We looked up Scripture passages that illustrate how God knows each one of us by name.
Renew your mind - I challenged them to think in new ways after hearing my talk and to transform their thinking about white folks. Again, we looked up several Scriptures to support my point.

The students opened their weekly Christian Union session with singing

The final verse of Scripture we looked at was Proverbs 18:15 (in the New Living Translation) -

Intelligent people are always open to new ideas.

In fact, they look for them.

During the question-and-answer portion of the afternoon, I treated everyone to soda and biscuits. It was a way to celebrate me having my mud hut on the compound for the past several years.

Purchasing and loading the crates of soda at Matunda market

Ken (the new director) and his wife, Joan, are friends of mine

Felling trees to make beds

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I hired a "chainsaw-man" to fell three of my cypress trees. The two that were 20 feet tall provided enough 3" x 1" x 3' "timber" to make the mattress slats for two "double-deckers" (bunk beds) for the students at the school. The third tree (and shortest one) was unfortunately dying due to some inadvertent damage. It wasn't big enough around to be used for timber, and will instead be used for firewood.

Nathan felled two of his tall Eucalyptus trees a few days later. They made enough 3" x 3" timber to make the two double-decker bedframes. It seemed very fitting to me - as I vacated the compound - to bless the expanding school with beds for 4 students.

Slicing it into pieces of timber

The guy was very skilled with the chainsaw; he did his work carefully and quickly.

Removing the three trees really opened up the compound and made it more attractive, in my opinion. Over 30 trees still remain.

My pastor friend, Nathan, is on the left. The guy in the middle is the owner of the chainsaw. I guess the guy on the right just came along for company. A person pays to have a tree felled and cut into timber based on the size of timber requested. For the 1" x 3" pieces I wanted, the charge to me was 4-shillings per foot. Of that, the owner gets 3 shillings per foot and the guy doing all the work gets 1 shilling per foot. We ended up with 250 feet. All of the branches plus the top portion of the tree will be used for much-needed firewood.

These pieces of "off-cuts" will also be put to use.

Nathan and the owner of the chainsaw counting the timber

Some of the male students carried the timber to storage so it could properly dry

Photos around the school compound

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This building serves as the girls' dorm and one of the classrooms.

Some of the girls that attend the school

plus the matron (in pink blouse)

Where the girls hang (or lay) their clothes to dry.

The "live fence" (or hedge) is the one around my small compound.

Kizitu (the school gate-keeper and caretaker) getting mud ready to repair the walls of the kitchen.

The clay soil becomes very sticky when wet.

"Throwing the mud" on the crumbling walls.

As he throws it with some umph... it will stick to the existing mud.

Sprucing-up the place

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Even though God made it clear that the time had come to vacate my house, I still wanted to leave it in fairly good condition. So... I did some more painting on the gate and the new "pillars" we made in August.

I also painted the sitting room floor.

In August, Nathan had patched several holes, so the floor was rather unsightly.

After I gave away most of my furniture, I found myself sitting on the floor to cook!

And... I stored my food and cooking utensils on the floor, as well.

Isn't this bougainvillea beautiful?

It's even prettier when you see it in person!

Some of the kids in the neighborhood

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Always... full of smiles!

Ode to my mud hut, August '02 – February '11

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Somehow it was God’s plan
For me to live in a traditional mud hut
Smack-dab in the midst of local villagers
Drawing my water from a well
With no power for miles around
No indoor-plumbing - using a pit latrine
And taking bucket baths

I grew up camping and raised my kids with the same experience
So, it was no adjustment to cook with a small kerosene cooker
   And to use a lantern after 7:00pm
I believe it’s one of many ways God prepared me to live in Kenya

What pleasure it always was to leave the bustling metropolis of Nairobi,
To get away from the noise
The crowds
And the smog of the city

It’s an integral part of the Kenyan culture to have a place “upcountry”
To build and maintain a house in the rural areas - “ushago” - even while living in an urban setting

Bishop and Margaret suggested it during my first time in Kenya in 2001
I thought it was a cool idea
And so… I followed the prompting
Even though I didn’t really know the Lord’s reasons

Perhaps it was the lofty purpose of my over-all reason to be here -
That of nurturing relationships and loving my neighbors
Perhaps he wanted me to do it - not only in the big city - but in the rural areas as well
And, in fact, I did do that –
Primarily in the nearby vicinity
But also in one- or two-day trips to see folks in several outlying villages

Perhaps it’s because He knows my heart,
My love of being outside…
Surrounded by His creation
And worshiping Him in His out-of-doors

Perhaps it was to break stereotypes:
Of being white
Of being a woman
Of being an American
Of being a missionary
All of which… folks here seem to have hard-fast pre-conceived ideas

I did my best to teach people that my name is not “mzungu”
Asking them instead to please...
   Just call me Deb
Some of them now do just that
They see me as an individual and not just the color of my skin

I may never really understand His purposes
But I followed His plan

Memories now flood my mind
Eight and a half years ago,
Watching it being built - such a surreal experience
Painting the interior walls
Buying a few pieces of furniture
Hanging the curtains
Sleeping in it for the first time
Cycling the three miles of hilly paths between my house and the market

Through the years, I’ve watched the compound adjust to housing:
A medical clinic for the rural folks
A Bible college for local pastors
And now a “mixed boarding” secondary school

To be sure, there have been challenges, trials, and annoyances
In fact, plenty of them!

Numerous thefts
Blatant stares
Absurd expectations and assumptions based solely on the color of my skin
Being called “mzungu” far too many times
Dirty well water
Impassable muddy roads
Leaky roof and noisy rats when I want to sleep
Loud PA systems broadcasting election campaigns, crusades, and funerals across the entire valley
Noisy circumcision revelers as they parade and prance throughout the night

But there have been even more joys… along with absolute contentment

Sipping my morning cup of chai as I meditate on God’s word
And chew on Oswald Chambers daily reading from “My Utmost for His Highest”
Ah… time at the feet of Jesus
   It’s good for the soul

I enjoy nature
I loved to gaze out my door and do nothing but watch the grass grow
Or to be amused as the many-varied butterflies frolic and dance among the flowers
Being fascinated by a praying mantis or a chameleon
I loved seeing a new species of bird for the first time and identifying it (with my book from Teressa)

I revel in silence and solitude
Hearing nothing but the wind rustle through the leaves of my tall and majestic trees
The lovely melodic song of one of Kenya’s many beautiful birds
The bray of a donkey in the distance
And even the morning cock crowing somewhere in the valley

I marveled at the rock-hard strength of an ant-hill
And often drew encouragement from Mawe Tatu
Three large stones on the distant horizon
Remembering that God is my Rock
He will never leave me and He is always watching over me

I relished the gentle and soothing sound of rain falling on my grass-thatch roof
Not loud like the more modern corrugated iron-sheet roofs
Ah… the communion I’ve enjoyed with You, Lord
   As I sit on my simple and traditional chair made of tree limbs and reeds

Evenings were always marked by the low rumble of a “posho” mill
   Grinding maize into flour for a family’s ugali
The swift wings of a flock of mouse birds flying immediately over my roof
A bat or two darting for a mosquito
The familiar and pleasant sound of singing crickets

Watching the beautiful colors - pink, red, orange - unfold as the sun sets
Who can observe Your artistry splashing across the western horizon
   And not acknowledge there is a creator God
What simple joy to watch the full moon rising on the eastern horizon

Marveling in the spectacular starry nights, when I would step outside to brush my teeth
   Finding myself involved in spontaneous worship to my God
Enjoying storm clouds develop and observing lightening in the billowing and active thunderheads
Finding pleasure in and admiring several full rainbows that appear to actually touch the horizon
Also double ones - is there really a pot of gold at the end?

The fun of getting my hands dirty, as I planted 50 tree seedlings
Dropping a spoonful of DAP fertilizer in each small hole
Watering by hand, with a bucket of water drawn from the well 100 feet away
Nurturing and pruning them as they matured
All the while deriving spiritual lessons in the process
   Ah… it’s good for the soul to make such time to contemplate God

Watching the bougainvillea grow and become - oh so beautiful - flowering with its brilliant blossoms
Eagerly waiting for the Flame tree to display its large orange-red blossoms,
And the Jacaranda to burst out with its delicate lavender flowers
I love to feast my eyes on the bold colors overhead -
   the deep azure-blue sky, puffy white clouds, and the green leaves of my trees
Ah… it’s good for the eyes and good for the soul

Perhaps that is an analogy to nurturing the human relationships that God brought into my life:
Coloring with Martin
Playing “draught” with Collins and chess with Macharia
Making no-bake cookies with Rose
Flying a kite while wide-eyed children from the neighborhood watched and jumped with glee

Watching Nathan “slash” the grass and “live fence” and always making sure my compound looked good
Eating ugali and cow peas with Charles and Agnes
Simple celebration of two Christmases with the Alu family
Encouraging Zadok and Mary in their struggles of life

Watching Wycliff mature –
My reliable boda boda driver through all the years
Graduating from a bicycle to a motorbike
Meeting his wife and children

Attending numerous local events –
Village churches with their traditional instruments
Sharing the obligatory “few words”
“Harambee”, where folks come together to share their limited resources and raise funds
Celebration party after a circumcision, with one speech after another
Graduation at a small tailoring school, again sharing “a few words”
Assisting at a few two-day free medical clinics (with upwards of 250 people per day)
Not only “teaching” a class at a primary school… but even sleeping in the girls’ dorm!

I’ve consumed dozens upon dozens of meals and hundreds of cups of chai
   In the homes of folks in the surrounding village areas
I’ve eaten raw right-out-of-the-ground termites - wings and all - not once, but several times
I introduced banana bread to many grateful mouths
   Cooked over hand-made charcoal on my “jiko”

There have been numerous notable visitors –
The area chief
Kisiangani, the complete stranger that God sent to me for a timely word of encouragement
My daughter, Naomi, and grandson, Terran -
   I am so glad they got to see and experience my house!
Rose, Karl, and others from AWC
Several friends from Nairobi - Carol, Jeremiah, Jim, Joe, Kim, Robert, and Emily
Two teachers had extended stays –
   Frank (a friend of Bishop’s) while teaching at the Bible College
   Sarah (one of the teachers at the secondary school)
Bishop’s family slept in it during the week-long funeral of his mom
   He also used it to host his many visitors
During a variety of functions, it has been used to feed and shelter various folks from Nairobi

I’ve watched the ebbs and flows of life
Attending a “chai watoto”, to welcome a new baby into the world
The incredible experience of assisting as a new life entered the world - Duane
I’ve attended four “upcountry” funerals (which typically go on for several days)
   Watching as the casket is lowered into the ground on the “burial day”
   And listening to the finality of soil being tossed on top
I was at my mud hut with Kim and Collins (after our trip to Lodwar and Kakuma refugee camp) when I
   Received news of my dad’s passing from this life into the glorious presence of the Lord

Village children are named after me, my two sons, one of my grandsons, and my dad –

8-year old “little Deb”
7-year old Tony
6-year old Duane
3-year old Caleb Zachary

Alas… I am now vacating my house
Bishop needs the space to expand his school
And God has revealed to me that it’s time
His peace prevails and surrounds my acceptance of His leading

I don’t know what God might have in mind
But I’m always willing and eager for the next adventure

I will seek His face
And inquire if perhaps He might have in mind for me
To once again build upcountry
If not, then that is also okay with me

“I am so in love with Him that I take no account where I go.”
- Oswald Chambers