The Other Side of Mathare

Covering Thursday 13th, 2008

Romans 8:38
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Yesterday, I was laughing and playing with kids and teaching them about the love of Christ. We were back at Mathare and I was expecting the same formula. I was greatly mistaken. We would be experiencing life in the slums instead of just being in the sanctuary that is the Mathare school center. We would follow children directly to their homes. We would see the extensive route they had to walk to get to school and all the dangers on the way. I was with Sevo and Alex.

The children we followed were brother and sister. The boy was named Lawrence, he was eight years old and spoke few words. He reminded me of my brother. My Dad's name is Lawrence. The girl was eleven years old and her name was Laura. I don't know how to describe her-- maybe the image of peace, hope, or reverence. Both these children were angels and I was absolutely astounded. Laura is my aunt's name, my aunt is slightly older than my Dad-- strange coincidence.

I walked hand-in-hand with these two children as we made our way through the slums. Alex held Lawrence's hand. Sevo closely followed. The rest of our team was close as well. For most of the walk I and the children were silent. I didn't know what to say, and I felt words weren't necessary. It's not a place where you point something out and ask about it and so that stunts conversation considering you are surrounded by poverty and you are tempted to ask about a sign or something you've never seen. The girl pointed out a place where her family got meat, which was hanging in plain view. It was quiet, except for the background of this place.

I choked on my emotions. I imagined what my life would be like if I was here when I was eleven. I can't imagine facing adolescence here; I really can't. And that alone broke my heart. At one point, the girl looked up and smiled and said that I was very beautiful. She was fascinated by my hair; I had braided it that day. It intrigued a lot of the children that I could do this. But I was astounded that of all the things she thought and said was that I was beautiful; I of course told her that she was as well. I can't even begin to describe how much this caught me off guard while surrounded by poverty. I mean honestly, there was way more love in that girl's eyes than mine. There's no doubt in my mind that she knew God, and that she knew his voice distinctly and wasn't distracted by the depth of the world. Lawrence held my hand a whole lot tighter than his sister.

She took my sunglasses from me and wore them on her head. I did not expect that so many would be intrigued by my sunglasses.

A strange drunk man brushed his hand through one of our team member's hair. I didn't see this, but I heard about it later. I just saw him approaching the team. I thought he was going to do something to the kids. He grabbed my chin instead. I was going to punch him so it was a good thing the kids were holding my hands. But he instantly went away. Laura's face is what I remember more than anything. She was mad. It was like someone ruined a dream. She was mad, but she held it so well. She looked at him as if he was the scum of the earth, and nothing rings more radiantly than that coming from a child. It was quiet again. At some point, Laura stopped and looked into my face again. She held my hand with both of hers and said "I love you very much." I sincerely wanted to cry.

Where in the world was she finding these words?

I've heard many strange misinterpretations on love. I firmly believe that love is more than the simple opinion or urge that many have attempted to sell in their arguments and advertisements. I think we cut love to pieces and isolate some aspects from the whole reducing it of its whole true value. If anything, I learned on this day-- several times-- that love at first sight does in fact happen, even if it is not the way people have imagined it. I told this brave girl that I loved her too.

Alex asked me if I was impressed by their lengthy walk to school. It was more than I ever could have done when I was a kid. I don't think I loved school enough for such a feat. We were in the thick of the slums. The homes were just metal sheets that were put together as shelter. Laura was excited to be so close to home so she told me to run; I wasn't thinking because I somehow felt safe. For just a moment, I was ahead of the group. There were people outside cleaning. A man was working outside and his puppy was running circles in the open area. To get to their home, we had to cross the open sewage that was trailing all around the slums. At the time, I didn't know it was sewage. We had to go through a thin passageway to get to the children's home. There was a woman standing outside with a baby in her arms. She was standing in front of the children's house: she was their mother. We wiped off as much dirt from our shoes as possible.

We went inside their home and the kids hugged their mother. The baby she held was beautiful. She had beads in her full head of hair. I think she may have been a little older than Imani. Laura put my sunglasses on what I took to be a mantle. I can't remember all of the surroundings of the home.

There were some distinct memorable things. It was made into two rooms, separated by a whitish sheet. We did not see the other side, but the front room was made for sitting and gathering. We prayed for this family and blessed them. I don't remember much, except the girl was standing in front of me playing with the sunglasses-- when did she go back and get them?

We walked back to the school. I held Lawrence's hand on my left; Laura's on my right. I think this time I was even more quiet. I was definitely lost in all that had just happened. It was overwhelming. To be opened into a home so graciously, to be loved so dearly, to see so many sad things and wonder what I can do, to see so many dangers on a path to school, and to know that the boy on my left was so observant to it all was all incredibly overwhelming.

Once back at school, Lawrence ran off to play with other kids. Laura tried to give me my sunglasses back. I told her she should keep them. She tried again to give them back, and I told her she had to keep them and to keep them safe. She smiled from cheek to cheek. Then she hugged me and began playing some of the creative games these children played. Just as I was walking to the place where we held tea Eric stopped me. There were three girls staring wide eyed at me. He said these girls wanted to know if his hair was real. I then turned to these kids and said, "No way! You'll just have to touch his head." They just laughed at me. At first I thought maybe they didn't understand a word I just said.

I'm still amused that they were so curious about my hair and were having a hard time believing it was real.

I sat by Hos at tea time and retold him what happened during our walk in the slums. He instantly cried, and then it really hit me what I had just been through.

We then had an extremely long recess with the students in the football field. The older boy students played with several members of our team in an intense game of football. Then, there were a few of us who were playing old fashioned games. At first, I was only with a group of ten or so-- including Laura-- and then at one point I counted and there were over sixty kids playing with me. Sixty. Every time I turned around there were more kids running into our gigantic circle. Eventually, more circles were made, and some of the kids had a hard time playing with so many various ages. I have no idea how many kids there were total. We were all in a huge circle, and one child would run around and sing and dance and then pull out another kid and switch places. They thought it was funny to pick me, especially since half of what they were saying was unclear to me since it was in Swahili.

Then we played duck, duck goose. My group dwindled and I ended up playing with a group of fifteen or so for the rest of recess. I would say it was fourteen girls and one boy; he was quite the flirt. I think most of them were second graders. Every once in awhile they would play with my hair-- I'm not kidding, they could not get over it. They played this game where someone went around the circle and tried to chop your arm off!

Well, they pretended their arms were able to cut and they would try to inflict enough pain, or intimidate you, to make you let go of your partner's hand. If they couldn't break through they were out; if you let go you were out. There was a girl that was about four years old on my right. She held tight. The boy was on my left and he never broke either. Okay, granted I'm a bit older than them it still hurt when they hit. We sang songs forever. A lot of the girls that I sang with yesterday were there. They taught me songs, and every once in awhile I could speak Swahili fluently, not really I was just good at mimicking them. I had no idea what I was saying.

I taught them a couple of songs that I had learned in the ancient high school days-- choir songs that I could never completely quench from my head finally came in handy. They enjoyed those songs thoroughly, and they would add their own things like drum beats and whistles-- whistles? I was beginning to wonder how I could hide them in my suitcases. I had two big ones and a small carry-on, maybe I could fit the little girl from the day earlier in that one. We then watched the football game. I had no clue what was happening, but it was entertaining nonetheless because we started screaming at the top of our lungs and we made noises like Indians-- maybe to them that's not an Indian noise. (You wouldn't believe how much I debated over whether to use "Native Americans" instead of Indians.)

We then played more games. One of the girls pulled out a ball that she had made from materials that she found. Lance commented later on how cool it was that she made the ball from various materials and that he wanted it.

We ended up playing tug-of-war; except, there was no rope so we used ourselves. This was actually confusing to me at the time. All of a sudden I was playing London bridges and chanting things in Swahili as children were running around me in a circle. Alternately, whenever the girl and I would drop our arms to catch one of the kids we would make them go to one of the teams. They made chains behind us. Once a child was picked for a team he or she got behind the last person and wrapped his or her arms around the person's waist in front of them. Once all the children were on a team, the girl who made the ball would draw a line between the two sides. She would shout go, and then I and the girl in front of me would shake hands.

My first thought was "Oh no. I'm going to pull all these kids down and this is going to be terrible." We gripped each others hands and tried to pull them to the other side-- just like tug-of-war. The first time I victoriously lost. I'm pretty sure we all fell. But then my side won three times. Those girls were strong. When we were called back to the school hundreds of children screamed at the top of their lungs while they ran back. I wish I could describe to you all that happened more eloquently but words are failing me. Everything was so epic, and this was one of the first days I think being in Africa touched my heart. It was so much more than my words can describe.

I sat with all the girls I had just played with, but only for a moment. I took pictures of them on Isaac's camera-- he was into film just as much as I am. I'm not really sure where my camera was, maybe I left my regular camera back at Ufungamano. Anyway, these girls were so sweet and so unbelievably cool. I wish I could see them everyday of my life.

We passed out candy to every single student. I was unsure if we actually gave each child a piece of candy because they would hide the candy, and what made it feel awkward to me was that I ended up finishing out my bags of candy in the middle of one of the pews. We sat together as a team. I was sitting across from the girls. Sevo ended our stay with Mathare in prayer. He also had the boys who played football stand so he could recognize them for how well they played.

He also told them to keep working hard and that he ended up getting a football scholarship for college. As we said goodbye, the children blessed us by waving their arms towards us and shouting "God bless you." I was impressed by how proudly these girls live their lives. I said goodbye to them for the last time-- at least to my knowledge.

We went outside and prepared to leave. The children were going home so we tried to be with them for that last moment.

There were some girls that were about five years old that were trying to hide by blending in with a wall. They were trying to be close to us; maybe they were trying to sneak away with us. Either way, I tried to pretend I was hiding with them and they thought it was hysterical. Right before we left, I saw the little girl from yesterday who I carried all over the school. She was still all smiles. I patted her head then held her one last time. Then we headed for our next destination, an orphanage.

First, we had to clean off all the dust we had accumulated. My jeans that I wore there still have some stains from that day.

The team that was staying at the Ufungamano house were the first to go to this orphanage. I sat up with Brent in the van, and at some point I said, "Wow, this is going to be sad."
But Brent reassured me otherwise. "You might be surprised, they have it pretty good here."
We pulled into a gated area. Beyond those gated doors was one of the nicest facilities I had seen. I think at the front it said "Drop off hours 10-2." This place was hard on me. On arriving, there was a woman taking care of a child who was crying relentlessly. We entered the reception office and I put everything together.

We were in a baby adoption center. This was a place where people could give their baby away, drop them off, or if babies were found in trash cans or on the sides of roads they would be kept here. This place gave babies a chance at life. Wacey, Chrissy, April, and I were in the baby room. Each one of us entertained the babies in our own way.

I merely walked around the room taking everything to heart. There were a couple of helpers in the room with us that were taking care of a couple of babies. To be honest, this has been the hardest part for me to write emotionally. There was this baby who was all by himself. It was like I was supposed to meet him. He was just staring at me. I came over and sat by him-- he was sitting in some sort of plastic tube bed. I just stared at him. For whatever reason, he intrigued me.

I picked up one of the toys and shook it in front of him. He still just stared at me. I put the toy back on the blanket. I felt like he could read my mind. He started to cry a little so I finally picked him up and he instantly stopped crying. I was torn inside. I had never seen such a beautiful baby that could take my heart so easily. He was so quiet and bright eyed. I walked around with him on my shoulder for a short while. A metal gate outside came down for security. He was mesmerized. His eyes were glued to it. I could tell he was smart. He kept his eyes on what he had just seen move. Then he looked back at me. Then I cried.

I didn't stop crying the entire time I held him. I was so sad to know that someone had probably abandoned him in a trash can. I just wanted to change the whole world; everything seemed so wrong to me. Then I pitied the mother for whatever reason she had for giving up this beautiful baby. It must have been awful to go through an entire pregnancy to have to end up giving him away, or maybe she died. I didn't know, I don't think anyone did. It bothered me greatly, but it was amazing to know he was there and now he was loved. He fell asleep and I just stared at him until someone had to pull him away from me. I can't imagine what would have happened if they had let me hold him for another five minutes; I might have tried to adopt him regardless that I have no money and I'm in college.

The lady who took him from me to put him in his real bed told me his name was "Airbo." Which might have been "Arbo" which means inheritance.

I then went into the toddlers room where they had just finished taking their bathes so they were now in their jammies that were made to look like various animals. As soon as I sat down, two or three of them lunged their whole bodies at me. One sat in my arms, one grabbed a hold of my hair, while the third was busy opening my purse and pulling out all the contents. Then two of them ran away and I was stuck with the little girl who was in a pink bunny pajama suit.

She just kept laughing and then she hugged me and ran away. One girl came back and I pulled out my camera and took her picture.

The flash on my camera was really exciting to her so she grabbed the camera so I took another picture because it made her sit still. Then, I tried to do it again but instead she pushed me to the ground. I don't get it; I can win at tug-of-war, but when it comes to a two year old wanting a camera I don't stand a chance. I ran around the room chasing the pink bunny girl. Everyone else was heading outside to get ready to leave but I was oblivious to that. Justin was also playing with the toddlers. As I was holding the girl in the bunny suit, I got too close to the window and she grabbed the bars and intensely watched our team. It wasn't easy to pull her away.
We only had one van and our whole team. We somehow were able to pack everyone together; it was like human jenga.

That night the Journey had a prayer session that we attended. The atmosphere that they created made it personal. It was easy to spend some time and reflect with God, which was much needed after all that had happened so far. However, I reflected on all the events that were happening at home. I wrote in one of their journals about all the trials I had faced in the past couple of years. I didn't really think I was going to be back at the Journey again after this trip so I may have been too personal. I was trying to show that God provides no matter what. I was frustrated. The events of the day brought out my emotions, which for the most part, I had felt numb to everything for a long time. I don't know how healthy it was to put so much focus on so many hard things in my life, but later I realized I was surrendering it to Christ instead of letting these problems constantly bog me down as I carry them. Of course, there are some things that I continue to hold. I still haven't gotten over some things. I hope to be more willing to give it all away and to be more hopeful.

I ended up talking to Chris who I had shared with Tuesday night. He made me help him take down some of the things on the walls. He was hilarious. I had told him about some of the more silly parts of my life which he found entertaining. I told him about how I lost my dog and how big of an ordeal that was at home. It was good to laugh about that. Then he said that he could tell I was actually serious by the tone of my voice. Then I ran into Francisco-- I sat by him when Chi Alpha first met the Journey. He told me a whole bunch of encouraging things and I don't know where that all came from but it made me feel better.

That night, I ended up going to my first Indian restaurant. Again I was starving, but I was significantly more comfortable than last night. Brent did a great job of ordering for us, because most of us had no clue what was on the menu. I always thought it was strange whenever we were in a more fancy or tourist area because there would be a great deal more of white people-- I wondered where they hid when we were in the middle of Nairobi. It's hard not to wonder why they were there-- was it for business or were they also here on a mission trip? This was one of the more entertaining meals. I think as a whole our team had finally gotten enough rest and even though people were starting to get sick with something suspiciously like malaria, we were in pretty good spirits. That, and Brent ordered us something where we got to sample all kinds of spicy treats. It was delightful. Brent then told us that when we leave we have to try this stuff that's at the front of the restaurant.

As we were leaving, Brent pointed out the strange stuff. He took a handful of it and smiled with glee. I took one look at it and said, "You know, with my allergies this might not be the best idea, I think I'll pass." April took a bite then tried to smile. Both her and Jordan, and whoever else took it, darted down the stairs. They were gagging hysterically. And I was laughing hysterically. April said, "It smelt like potpourri!"

We came to the conclusion that maybe Brent had eaten this stuff thinking it was food but it was actually potpourri. Probably not, but I've seen April eat some nasty stuff so to see that reaction was fairly intense.



James 1:26-27
If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless. Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

Meeting with the University Students

Continuing Wednesday June 11th, 2008

2 Corinthians 3:13-15
We are not like Moses, who would put a veil over his face to keep the Israelites from gazing at it while the radiance was fading away. But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away. Even to this day when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts.

After experiencing Mathare Valley, we met with several Journey students who were from various universities. Each of us paired up with someone from the Journey and took a tour of a Kenyan university to see what they were like. I was paired with Grace who was by far one of the most incredible individuals I've ever met. She quite possibly had the best first impression I have ever seen. When asked what she did for the Journey, she said that what she did was so important because she was the one who made the tea. At home, if someone said all they did for a campus ministry was make tea, people would look at them funny, but she saw a much greater and more humbling reason for her importance in the ministry: she saw how she brought people together by making them comfortable. She completely understood her purpose in ministry and it was impressive to see.

While we walked around the campus we talked about the similarities and differences in our countries. She was amazed that we had four full seasons since their seasons are more like dry and rainy. Their winter was only 70-80 degrees! The university housing was our first stop-- which they called hostels. Since in America we call our housing dormitories I was confused when first asked if we had any hostels. I hadn't heard that word in so long and my first thought was hostages.

Unlike the dorms I've had, the building was much more open and less secure. It was almost more apartment style because you could just walk up the stairs that were outside and it would directly lead to your hall. However, the rooms were identical to ours. I would say it was about the size of my room in Wells. They had the same set-up: two beds, two dressers, two desks, and a window. Grace's roommate was currently working on a paper for psychology. They were in the thick of finals. I was impressed that Grace took time from finals week to help out with the Journey. I know when finals week comes for me that I tend to hide in a bat's cave while I cram eight chapters of unwanted material into my brain.

The campus was huge. I'm not sure if we covered the whole ground, but the more we walked around the campus the more I was amazed. It was definitely bigger than Missouri State. The buildings were much farther apart than at home and they were all similar looking-- opposed to the myriad of architectural trends spanning decades at my campus. Grace was proud of her school and every department, which I thought was cool. In America the majority of us go to college just because we see it as something that has to be done. Even more people don't even value their education or even attempt to expand their mind. In fact, once a person graduates from either high school or college and begins to work that's considered the real world. But in Kenya, I could tell they cared about their education and they sought hard for a degree because they wanted to make a difference. To care about departments that you are not even involved with is so awesome considering how in America our programs compete with each other to get more students and a lot of times they reject other schools of thought.

They had computer labs, recreational areas, a giant football field (soccer), and all the normal necessities you would find at a normal school in the States. Grace talked about how the government issues out money for students that do well in their secondary education so they can go to college. I asked her if there was a difference in people if they were from the city or not and she basically said, "I always thought people from the city were spoiled. And now I'm here, and I am so spoiled."

That night we ate at the Java House again. Actually, the point of going to Java House was to have a debriefing session, but unfortunately it was way too loud to hear anything anyone was saying. I was starving. We hadn't eaten for hours. If there's anything I learned: sleep and food keep me sane. I couldn't help but be mad at myself either;I had just eaten a few hours ago and I knew food would be on the table. But what about the kids in Mathare? Were they just scrounging around the slums looking for food? What a horrible thought; one that continues to bother me into the night.

1 Corinthians 4:10-12
We are fools for Christ, but you are so wise in Christ! We are weak, but you are strong! You are honored, we are dishonored! To this very hour we go hungry and thirsty, we are in rags, we are brutally treated, we are homeless. We work hard with our own hands. When we are cursed, we bless; when we are persecuted, we endure it.

Mathare Valley

Covering Wednesday June 11th, 2008

Philippians 2:14-16
Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life—in order that I may boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor for nothing.

I was looking for a video on Mathare Valley; this caught my attention instead. It is extremely rough.

This, however, is a video from Mathare.

Tuesday night after we had pizza and mingled with the Journey, we went to the YMCA. We had a preparation meeting for tomorrow in regards for our lesson at Mathare Valley. We would be teaching over 500 students-- children from the slums. Many were HIV+ victims and orphans. It was more humbling and astounding than anything else.

As we walked into the school we were introduced to the head master. She guided us through the school grounds, and outside each classroom we stopped at the door and crowded together; each class sang a song to welcome us to their school.

As we walked to each room we became more attached and more in love with these children and their song. By the time we had reached the pre-K unit they were mostly banging their fists on desks. We then were pulled aside as a group to learn about Mathare and the facilities that were there. The school was church affiliated; our assembly was held in their chapel. I was incredibly excited. As a team, we prayed in the chapel for the upcoming event and hoped that we could use the day well to serve Christ and teach his message clearly. Children were sneaking around to see us. There was a kindergarten room connected to the chapel and my curiosity was too strong so I went inside. I was excited to see so many happy faces, but strangely enough there was no teacher in sight.

I immediately began playing with them and picked up their classwork and complemented several students on their work; they mostly had made hand drawn pictures. At this point,the language barrier was a conflict so most of the kids in this room were fairly confused-- words were not necessary. I asked them how they were doing and no matter what, for every lesson on the whole trip, they would say "We're fine!" I miss that. They also were fascinated by my hair. I was a little shocked by this, but I thought it was sweet too. Unlike most children at home who are fascinated by my hair and they pull it, braid it, and chew on it, these children loved to hold it delicately. I eventually went back to my team, and the students were beginning to appear in all directions. There were children of all ages. Some of them looked like they had just begun to walk; others were in the eighth grade (what we call grades they call standards).

They were just as excited as kids would be at home to have a day-off, except to still be at school and be able to play with their classmates. The younger children danced all over the place, or maybe they bounced all over the place. Before long, the whole auditorium was filled with students along with: the Journey, our team, and the amazing teachers of this school. Instead of sitting by my team I sat in the middle of the crowd with the students and Andrew. I was glad that Andrew was there because he explained to me what they were saying when they used Swahili. I sat by a boy named William. I can't believe I remember his name because I may have sat by him for 10 minutes. He wanted to know what football team I supported; I of course did what any other person would have and said I supported whatever team he did. And he asked me if I liked Manchester, I think. To be honest, I wasn't sure if he said Manchester.

A few children recited poems to us about being street kids. There was one girl who was captivating; she spoke with eloquence and power-- I believe she wrote it too. Wacey and Jordan did a skit about how God can test us but if we have faith God will provide. Then some of the music students sang and danced. At the end, our team came up and danced with them. We then had a few minutes to play with them before tea time.

I think I made a full circle around the room in the ten or fifteen minutes we had. A beautiful little girl who I couldn't help but fall in love with was somehow put into my arms. Someone had my video camera, and I just carried this little girl across the room. A whole crowd of girls were playing with Chrissy's hair, a few people started the chicken dance, kids were laughing everywhere, people played drums, April was teaching them songs, and then a group of girls kept calling my name and pulled me aside. I was surprised that they remembered my name. I was still carrying around the little girl. These girls who knew my name circled around me-- which in any other situation sounds a little scary. They tried to teach me some songs in Swahili and the little girl just looked around awestruck. Then they asked me to sing, and it was like they were little angels that knew me better than myself. They could not have been anymore encouraging, and I was lucky because for several on the team it was hard to balance the younger kids with the older kids because the older ones would push them to the side. They were a good mix.

Somehow the lyrics to "Songbird" by Eva Cassidy popped into my head, and I couldn't remember it well at first but I still made myself sing and I was surprised, incredibly surprised. I had dreamed for a long time to just be around children like these. I had been envisioning them since I knew I would be going to Africa. It was a dream I had, a sublime dream. So, I was a bit startled that when I sang they were completely silent. They all leaned in, and I only had a handful of seconds to be in this sweet little circle with quite possibly the most innocent people in the world.

Within seconds, I was handing the little girl to someone and feeling somewhat torn inside. I had a feeling that I would see her again before we left, but it still bothered me greatly. I was probably the last to leave before heading for tea.

From my seat I could see the children playing outside in the dust. The dust was strong and I found traces of it in my ears the next morning. After tea we would break into pairs to teach the lesson to each class. We taught them about how David defeated Goliath. On this day, I worked with Justin and Alex (who was from the Journey). We first taught the fourth grade.
The room was packed with kids. We looked through their classwork and entertained them before the lesson. There was a group of boys in the front who were intensely studying with their Swahili books; I liked messing with them because it reminded me of days long gone. Eventually, we taught the lesson-- which I basically made Justin do. Well, he did know it better than me because he worked on that particular lesson (Chrissy and I worked on the lesson plan for Mary). It was impressive to see how intently the children listened and how well they were able to fill in the blanks of our lesson. When one student told us the story was about faith, I felt that Justin must have done a good job. Then I attempted to sing the lesson's song, but unfortunately I didn't know the words. So, Justin had to write the words on the washboard; the kids were all singing together and were spinning in circles.

Alex helped us tremendously. He was able to keep the children calm and at the end he asked them questions about the story and he asked them if they could remember our names. Then we were moved to the next classroom, which I believe was the second grade. They did not understand English as well, partly because they were younger. This time, we started the lesson as soon as we walked into the door and we switched: I did the lesson and Justin did the song. During the song, a little boy in the back raised his arms over his head and then everyone copied him. It was spectacular to look at this little boy. He had absolutely no doubt; he stood there proud. I imagine Justin was confused as to why everyone was doing this-- including myself and Alex. Sometimes the most spectacular moments are hidden in humor.

Then the classroom next door began singing a song that was full of shouting. It was like a shouting competition: one group says "praise the Lord" and then the other half shouts "hallelujah" in response. We decided it would be cool if we had their classroom doing this with ours. I went next door to talk with the team members there. And I'm not entirely sure why this happened, but I do think it's important to keep in mind that this was the third grade and that I didn't go to an even younger classroom.

Several children, I think about ten to fifteen, all ran to me. They started hugging my legs and those that could reach were petting my hair. There were so many hands on me. I began to turn away so I could leave the room or at least get behind Lance so that maybe I could talk civilly. Instead, two or three boys pulled off my sunglasses while a few kids were still petting my hair. I told them they had to give my sunglasses back, but it was rather pointless. The boy who had them on looked like Ray Charles. Then there was a girl who just burst into tears, so I left the boys who took my glasses and went over to the girl who was crying. One of the girls who was still mesmerized by my hair went over to the girl and tried to hug her but that just made the girl more upset. Once I got to the girl myself all of the kids who were on me stopped and ran for their seats. And I hugged the little girl who was profusely crying; she instantly stopped. Then somehow Lance got my sunglasses, and he stopped the children from pushing me to the ground. Lance did an amazing job throughout the trip of keeping an eye on everybody, especially me in incidents like these. Then I simply said that the classroom next door wanted to compete with this one in the shouting game.

I went outside and the little girl who I desperately wanted to take home was outside. I have no idea why she wasn't in a classroom, but I didn't care. She ran to me and held my hand. Then she looked at me and laughed. I hugged her. She then ran away laughing. Finally, I was back in my classroom. I have no idea how long I was gone, but I shrugged my shoulders when Justin and Alex gave me confused looks. Then we played the game and as we were leaving a couple of the kids said "thank you" and they hugged my leg, and another one was excited to touch my hair.

I was overwhelmed.

It was lunch time and everyone was talking about all the events that had just happened. Just like almost every meal we had there, we had rice, meat, cabbage, and potatoes. Not to mention, any coke product that you wanted was available.I don't really know how I got there but a few of us taught the oldest classroom together. Sevo and Wacey mainly taught this lesson. I actually sat with some of the students and helped them to be as loud as possible-- there were parts with the story where the children were supposed to yell. Then we played Simon Says and Statue. Statue is where you freeze into whatever position you are currently in until someone says "off." Throughout the trip I would say "statue" to Eric, one of the Journey students. He and I were pretty hilarious together, and for some reason April thought he looked like Dave Chapelle so she started calling him that-- but of course that's what I decided to call April. Anyway, each classroom had completely different dynamics. I liked working with the last group because they kept me on my toes. They tried to get me to say dirty words in Swahili but I told them I was on to them, and they were bewildered as to how I knew. Too bad they didn't realize I had already passed the seventh grade.

I was somewhat torn inside when we had to say good-bye. But this was only the first day that we got to visit these brilliant children and to be able to teach them as much as we could about Christ.

Songbird
For you there'll be no crying
For you the sun will be shining
Cause I feel that when I'm with you
It's alright, I know it's right

And the songbirds keep singing
Like they know the score
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before

1 John 3:2
Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.

Politics Lesson

Tuesday 10, 2008 (later that night)

Isaiah 9:6
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Many people who donated money or gave any support for this mission trip were curious about how safe I would be in Kenya after the 2007 presidential election. In fact, this was apart of the background of several of our pre-meetings and was at the heart of many of us who traveled to Africa. At least for me, I didn't know to a great extent what was happening. Hearing all the reports on TV and seeing it in the newspapers was frightening. I was still working with Disney World when I first saw on TV what was happening in the country that I had been dreaming about since my first steps in college.

It was one of those moments where everything around you is moving at full-speed and you are frozen stiff. There wasn't a moment to breathe during the holidays. I knew I was headed for Kenya and all I could think was "My God, what am I getting myself into?" All the people on the television were screaming and the nice lower thirds at the bottom of the screen scrolled the word Kenya over and over again.

I don't know where God is taking me and my joint-fully pained body. This was one of those things that I just knew was from him and I accepted it, and sometimes I would think to myself it was all in my head, but why would someone who had no desire of going to Africa suddenly be completely and madly intoxicated with one of its countries?

Prior to the presidential election of 2007 Kenya was considered one of the most stable countries in Africa. It's one of the fastest growing commercial and tourist hubs on the continent. So what sparked the tension on December 27th, 2008?

800 to 1,500 people died in this event, as well as 180,000 to 250,000 people were displaced from their homes. When Mwai Kibaki was announced president many felt there had been corruption at hand, and so people snapped at the edge of the tribal labels and they began pointing their fingers left and right for the fault of all the corruption that had been taking place and all other injustices. This of course has happened everywhere in the world.

Kenya is a fresh democracy, and with it, like any form of government, there are deep set problems that are ignored by those in power. At the root of the political crisis are two powers: old traditional tribes that are beginning to merge their lifestyles into one country and a government that is simply an elite. The government is less interested in maintaining roads and generating wealth into the system than they are willing to give up their own lavish lifestyles and to stop putting more and more gold into their own pockets. For them, the people of their country are just puppets-- or maybe these rulers are just malnourished leaders who are unfit to lead.

It was hard for the university students we spoke with to discuss the events that took place, but what's more they were baffled as to why people that they've known their whole lives-- their neighbors, friends, and classmates-- they couldn't understand why they would suddenly hate one another. It would be like we suddenly hate people because their from another state, not another ethnic group, but state. It makes no sense. So what causes hate? What is its fuel? People feel a call to it for some reason, why else would Hitler have been able to gain the support of Germany? He knew his country and their economic situation and how oppressed people felt so he used that as fuel. In this situation, I don't think it is much different. People felt unjustly represented, like the hand of democracy was a myth in fairy tales. Being starved for justice while having it crumble in your hands leads to these hideous disasters.

Not until July 2008-- just now-- a US conducted poll released that Odinga won by a comfortable 6% margin. Seeing that he truly did win shows how obvious it was that Kenya was in fact cheated. Here's how the problem evolved and spun into disaster. Odinga had won the election but Kibaki was given the presidency. Odinga supporters were outraged. Each of the parties were formed from tribal groups and their ideas on issues. Just like in America, much of our country is split into two parties based on primarily, but not limited to: region, family, and religion.

The Orange Democratic Movement (ODM) and the Party of National Unity (PNU) were split: and then the opposition against Kibaki began nonviolent protests. However, within moments both sides became violent and so the anarchy began with a rampage through several parts of Kenya-- most notably Odinga's homeland of Nyzana Province and the slums of Nairobi. The police shot many of the supporters; some of this happened with news cameras filming. Then their came violence towards the police. We have this problem here in America to a lesser degree. Several police officers have fired their guns vicariously murdering the innocent. It's a tough and detested job, but that isn't to say that some police carry their weapon as an extreme final resort, and many of the best who have served in the force never had to even pull the trigger. Regardless, the violence began to be targeted towards the Kikuyu community to which Kibaki belonged.

The violence catapulted when 30 unarmed civilians were murdered when a church, set for refuge against the attacks, was set on fire on New Years Day. Still, Odinga said he would not negotiate till Kibaki ceded power.

On New Years Eve I was working a much anticipated day. Since my training at the beginning of my Disney internship, I was told about how insane my job would be and that I better learn the loopholes now so that I could enjoy New Year's Eve. We prepared for-- what we were told-- a four hour waiting line for a ride. Can you imagine being in a line that long for an amusement park ride? I was told it was actually a five hour waiting line that traveled across all of the Living with the Land pavilion. I schemed the entire day to crack the machine that spit out our duties and breaks. It wasn't hard to figure out, but I needed to be on top of it because there was a reason why so many people wanted, rather, had to be at Epcot that day. As silly as this may sound, it was the fireworks.

It's well known that the greatest firework show imaginable would be occurring that night. I gave up sometime in the night. I figured it was nearly impossible to be one of the few that could actually see this display. But then someone came, Claire, and she handed me a break slip. I ran all the way from the back of "B" theater, through merge, into "A" theater (I wonder if there was a better way to leave in all the secret passage ways at Disney) and I ran across the parking lot and before I knew it, I was onstage(that's what we called the actual park). I was shoulder to shoulder with various people from around the world. I had just missed the holiday section of the fireworks-- which I had seen several times.

Then the show began-- a dazzling spectacle of fireworks representing all the countries at Epcot. It was done by time zone beginning with the far east. I was blown away. I was in this huge world renowned international park with countless people from everywhere celebrating world unity. I had my camera in hand, waiting to capture the anticipated ending. I couldn't help but look around me and appreciate this world, it's people, and the challenging year that I had survived. And then finally in unison people counted down the last seconds of the new year and then the sky exploded. There was so many fireworks in the sky that it turned white. Children, couples, parents, grandparents, and workers were all astonished and celebrating. And I stood there awestruck wondering how all of this connected. The fire in the sky and the fire in my heart; I fell to tears at such a touching moment. But beyond that, I had this strange yearning, this strange feeling that all of this was much greater than I could possibly know and that somehow what I had tapped into was what each of us has been searching for our whole lives. It was like I had surrendered all my problems and that I knew deep down we were in the hands of a faithful and just creator. Little did I know that hours and miles away there were lives dying in flames. Here I stood in Orlando completely free while in Kenya the lack of freedom was ravaging itself through innocence. I would like to think at Epcot on that day we celebrated what they would have envisioned, and that something happened that was much deeper than I understood. My identity is set deeply in all this. From the magic I was creating for thousands of children to the camera that was attached to my wrist--

Odinga held a strong lead on December 28th but as more votes were supposedly counted Kibaki ended up being named. Odinga claimed the government of fraud, but how could he take this to the court when it was run by Kibaki? On December 31st a ceremony was going to be held by the ODM party to announce Odinga as the "people's president" but it was feared this would incite violence. Kibaki ruled that lawbreakers would be punished. Odinga wanted power and revolution.

By the end of January, many had died, many were injured, and many were without home. The world was spellbound. They were in need of a miracle to unite this country that was split by what Odinga said "is a war between the people of Kenya and a very small bloodthirsty clique clinging to power."

The first to attempt a miracle was by John Kufour on January 9th who was Ghanaian President and African Union Chairman. He wanted Kibaki and Odinga to sign a peace agreement, however Kibaki refused to sign it and instead ODM representatives had signed it. The government blamed Odinga for failing to move for peace, regardless of Kibaki's stagnate motion.

Then Kofi Annan stepped in and by February 28th he was able to get Mwai Kibaki and Raila Odinga to compromise for their country. They signed a peace agreement and were made to work together. Will this effort begin to unite the country or is this a cease fire? The violence did dramatically halt. And people began working alongside each other again in this corrupt country. However the consequences still tarnish the country, and who knows how long it will take to move past these tragic events.

Amazingly enough, a few of the students from Nairobi openly talked about the events that occurred. One of them told his tragic tale and how it was a defining moment for him: "Guys were out on the street with stones. We were at a police station, and so we had to stop by the police station because the roads were blocked so we could not come into the street, so everyone was being directed to the police station so it was becoming too full to hold anyone else. But if that was not enough, they kept throwing stones at us, so we were finally-- thank the Lord-- we were escorted into town... We were cruising at 120 kilometers an hour; I was sitting by the driver, and his window was down. A guy was trying to hit us with a stone. He wanted to hit the driver; he could see the window was open. Though it hit right threw the window, I didn't even get a scratch because I moved immediately. I was in these shoes; the glass was in small pieces in my shoes so you had to check really slowly. That was a defining moment that life is short, and we really need to lead fulfilling lives; so that when we get to heaven, we will have fulfilled our purposes in life, we won't be regretting we did this, we did this, we will be living."

Another student stated, "I was really affected by it. It's known to be a large number of them, there was so much violence, and the displacements, that night after the results we did have fear. That night they were mixed. We heard screams; you pray. You know it's happening; you see the news. The houses were burnt, you hear gunshots, you see the army. It was really scary. It really changed the perception; it just brought up the whole idea that people really discriminate, and it was really sad to find that out. It was a sad moment."

And lastly the person who taught us about everything that happened said, "I couldn't access my car, the town was filled with cops, and I never really thought it would concern me; so there was a lot of fear. My reflection was based on what do we really qualify people to be loved. I felt I was lying to my tribal cocoon, and I was really shocked."

So what is our qualifications to love another? What spawns hate? What caused what many of these students profess to be spiritual warfare? This is only a fragment of what occurred during those frightening days in Kenya and what is still vibrating through the country. Yet, what is so fascinating to me is that through Kofi Anan the violence was stopped. We don't know the long term results of this battle; the peace of Kenya may be tampered with again. We have so much power to change this world and bring out love. One person helped bring peace; while many of us were on our knees praying.

Acts 10:2
He and all his family were devout and God-fearing; he gave generously to those in need and prayed to God regularly.

Have You Ever Touched an Elephant?

Covering Tuesday June 10th, 2008

Genesis 33:13
But Jacob said to him, "My lord knows that the children are tender and that I must care for the ewes and cows that are nursing their young. If they are driven hard just one day, all the animals will die."

Sleep is wonderful. Jenny gave me a wake-up call around 7AM. I ate breakfast on the first floor with Chrissy, April, Wacey, Jenny and Lance. The tea helped me come to my senses.

We started off the day by going to an elephant orphanage. Suddenly, there were more white people among us. It was obvious when we were at a tourist location and when we were at a volunteer project. Although, one of the students from the Journey said that she knew these things were here but she never thought about going to them. I'm sure there's things we pass everyday that thrill tourists; the wonders of our own backyard lose their fervor.

According to the sign at the front gate: "Our Desnaring teams have removed over 79,000 snares and arrested over 537 poachers. 1000 snares at a 5% daily rate of success will catch 18,250 animals in a year." There were photographs of elephants who had been attacked and left on the sides of the roads. Along with the donation box, to further this program, were various souvenirs-- mostly clothes.I've never been that close to an elephant. I don't think I've seen a baby elephant either. All that kept us from the elephants was a rope. If an elephant tried to come over the rope one of the workers would immediately bring him back to the rest of the elephants. For the tourists, it was exciting to have an elephant so close. One of the elephants nearly rammed Nicole; she said something along the lines of, "Hi buddy!" To keep warm some of the younger elephants wore blankets. All of these elephants had been rescued from the wild.

We were told that elephants often undergo depression. It's confusing for them to be around humans, especially since the reason why some of these beautiful animals are without a family is because of the extensive poaching. Some elephants don't like humans at all. So it takes great workers who are willing to help tame these elephants so that they can live in peace and without fear that humans will kill them.

Elephants are uncannily smart. Some of these elephants were picking up shovels and playing soccer.




Have you ever felt elephant skin? It's surprisingly rough and hairy. It feels nothing like what I would have imagined. Also, in case anyone ever asks you for trivia sake: Hannibal's army rode elephants in the Punic Wars around 220BC.

We then left for the giraffe center-- where most of the fun was in feeding the tallest animals on the planet. You could even give a giraffe a kiss which is where you stick one of the food pellets in your mouth and have the giraffe take it from you. I of course was not that bold, and that's disgusting. After hanging out with the giraffes we had a whole lesson about the three different giraffes and the rescue center itself.

Did I mention that most of us still had no luggage? When we were heading back to our lodge Brent made fun of Sevo for his call to the airport:

"Where are my bags, you didn't even greet him."
"Yesterday I did."
"No formalities, no how are you."
They went on like this for awhile and it was fairly entertaining.

Then they debated whether we should go back to the Java House or try a new restaurant for lunch. We ended up going to a shopping center where a few people came to us to sell strange goods-- like strawberries, watches, and world maps. We went through the Nakumat which was a Wal-Mart influenced store. There was a giant elephant statue that tricked a few of us. We ended up eating American and Mexican food, which was kind of humorous;I mean, to travel to the other side of the planet to eat the same food you can find everywhere at home.

After changing, we went to the Masai Market. The following link will show you what the market looked like.
Masai Market

(embedding was disabled)


Each of us from Chi Alpha were split into groups of about 2-3 and then given a partner from the Journey. The Journey was there to help us with the bargaining process. Since we were foreigners, the sellers were overpricing everything by a great margin and it was hard for us to understand what was happening since we were using shillings. I was with G.T., April, and Lance. The market was overwhelming. If you were caught looking at anything the seller would immediately begin selling it to you, and it was extremely hard to leave-- especially since the place is so congested with people and stores. Some of the most popular items were beads, paintings, animal figurines, and dishes. I felt more like I was going through an obstacle course than a market. I didn't know what to buy or if I actually wanted to buy anything, but both April and I ended up buying jewelry from one seller who wasn't as intense. I bought a bracelet that was like a slinky with rainbow colored beads. I did need a watch; I had somehow left mine in America. The absence on my wrist was beginning to annoy me so it comes as no surprise that my first purchase was a bracelet. The next thing I bought was a bowl that was made from the same type of beads as the bracelet. After that, several people were coming towards us to sell anything and everything. We soon learned that many people in the Masai Market worked for commission-- these people would follow you like a hawk and at every moment they would point out something you must have-- would you like a limestone elephant for a 100$?
If I was exceedingly rich I may have honestly bought as much as I could. Not because I wanted anything but because this was how so many of them made their living, and it was an easy way to help out. Unfortunately, I'm a college student who has to be exceedingly creative to find any means of money, so I didn't have much on me and I was conservative with how I spent it. There was this one guy-- I think his name was Charles-- who followed our party the entire time. When we came back two weeks later he still recognized me. At one point, G.T. had to leave so our group had to merge with Alex's because G.T. was our Journey partner. One of the commissioners kept following April with a giraffe statue, and she kept saying she wouldn't buy it unless he gave her four for 100 shillings.

April was a lot kinder than me. I figured if you even made eye contact you would never be able to get through all the people. Lance and I were on the same page. April was abundantly kind and smiled to most of the people. This brought attention to her so many of the vendors would attempt to sell her random goods. April was just as conservative, if somehow more, than me. It actually made her feel bad that she couldn't help.

But the hardest part was the mothers with their babies. They would touch your arm gently and whisper in your ear, or speak fairly loud depending on what other commotion was occurring. They would beg you for money while holding their baby. They would tell you they need the money, or that they have HIV. Which, as a kindred spirit you want to give money but you can't with that many people around you or else you may end up going home naked.

So, basically every seller was about the same. They would say things like, "I sell you for a good price," or "I sell you for a cheap price," or how about "looking is free." It was somewhat entertaining to see some of them attempt to sell it for an outrageous price like 6,800 shillings, and then to just simply say 200 shillings-- or to just give them 5 Euros since there really was no need to keep that.

After the Masai Market we headed back to the Ufungamano house. That night we had a meeting with the Journey to discuss the events that took place during the December election.

Luke 7:32
They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out to each other: " 'We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not cry.'