Kenya: Thousands of Miles

Welcome

2009-03-06T11:19:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my exasperatingly long Kenya missions journal. It's been a few months since I finished writing this and my spiritual life has grown. I hope that you enjoy reading this; I intentionally did my best to keep this as conversational as possible.

Feel free to write back to me or write a comment on any of these posts.

-Jennifer Silvey

INTRODUCTION

2008-08-19T17:54:00.000-07:00

It has taken me almost the entire summer to write about Kenya. I decided to write this journal so that my supporters could have an idea of what happened on this trip and how their money was provided so we could touch countless lives. Also, I felt that if anyone was curious about a missions trip they could have a first account experience of one that went smoothly in Kenya. We were only there for a little more than two weeks but we reached out to thousands of lives in this time. Also, I would love to go on a trip like this again, but it is not easy to get away from the hustle and bustle of life and nor is it easy to find those that will support you. If you want to read through my journal I suggest going back to the first post. Please keep in mind this is only one person's experience of this trip. I have also included several pictures-- some of which are mine and some our from other team members. All of the pictures, except for the ones in the politics and AIDS post, were taken on this trip.

Trekking Back

2008-08-17T16:45:00.000-07:00

Covering Tuesday June 24th, 2008

Acts 7:3
'Leave your country and your people,' God said, 'and go to the land I will show you.'

It was our last day in Africa. It was wonderful to be back in the hustle and bustle of Nairobi. We went to the Masai Market one last time. I planned to use all my shillings since each time currency was exchanged the money would lose its value. As soon as we got there I had someone who was working on commission follow me. I had to stay with him; I don't really like being pushed into shopping. Yet, it was better than every seller chasing after me. I did end up having to pay a higher price for things but it was still cheaper than what I would have paid at an actual store.

He would get mad every time I shot down his prices. He would make them nine times higher than what I knew was even close to being right. I bought a lot of jewelry and a limestone elephant-- also some shoes that broke after a few days of wearing them. I'm not a big shopper myself but as for this experience I hate haggling prices and being yelled at by the seller and that no is not an answer. I was still firm but that didn't matter because anything that I considered had to be bought. I had accidentally put my euros with my shillings and ended up having to give those away-- then I gave up the five dollars of American money that I had.

We went to a pizza place that was nearby and we looked through everyone's random purchases. Eric and I passed April's plates around the table. We were hoping that they would be passed all the way back to her, but I suppose people were getting tired of her complaining. We then headed back to Ufungamano and the YMCA to get our bags ready for the airport. Most of my belongings were in one suitcase now while I had a few emergency type items in my carry-on. I had an extra suitcase that had been used for resources.

We said our last goodbye to the Journey and then headed for the airport. It was going to be a long flight home plus I would be going to a wedding once I got back to America. First we would fly from Nairobi to France. We were looking forward to Paris but unfortunately it was more like a three hour security hoopla and so we had no extra time to explore the city. We played mafia for a short while, and I hadn't slept in hours because I didn't sleep on the Kenya plane. We then headed to Chicago where we had a slight lay-over and delay. Then we headed for Springfield, Missouri on a short flight. Our team went their separate ways to various homes and friends. I went with Jenny to her house to stay until my parents could pick me up from Arkansas. I then headed to Oklahoma City the next day for a wedding. For seven days I had been sleeping in a different city and bed.

Hebrews 13:5
Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."

The Day I Saw a Lion

2008-08-16T22:50:00.000-07:00

(word count 836)

Covering Monday June 23rd, 2008

Daniel 6:22-23
My God sent his angel, and he shut the mouths of the lions. They have not hurt me, because I was found innocent in his sight. Nor have I ever done any wrong before you, O king. The king was overjoyed and gave orders to lift Daniel out of the den. And when Daniel was lifted from the den, no wound was found on him, because he had trusted in his God.

We were in the vans for our safari before sunrise. It was a long adventure trekking through the safari. It was incredible to see animals completely free. The place was huge and exquisitely beautiful. Earlier we had said we weren't really in Africa unless we saw a lion. But first we saw monkeys, baboons, and the sort.

Near the end of our first tour we saw the lions. One of them walked past our vans to the other side. I've never been so close to such a fierce animal, and it was impressive to be by it when it was so calm. I still can't get over how the lions roam free along with the other animals.

We had a short lunch and then headed to the safari lake.

We saw even more spectacular sights and even walked on the beach outside our van. We were close to zebras, hippos, pelicans, and all kinds of wonders. It was an unbelievable experience. I kept thinking that the Lion King did an amazing job depicting everything I was seeing, and there's no doubt that this is completely different than going to a zoo. The animals were by far much more healthy than I had ever seen in a zoo; it's always sad to go by the lion cage and to see it restlessly pacing back and forth.

We had to clean our shoes then we traveled up a cliff to see the most spectacular view I think I will ever experience. Being surrounded by all this beauty gave me this unreal feeling that we have a great and beautiful creator. Seeing this oasis God had created and how everything could coexist just sounded so impossible; there's no way that life could begin from nothing.
After the safari we spent the rest of the day making our way back to Nairobi. We got to see the Journey before heading back to the States. We told them about our new experiences in Butula and we also shared with them some encouraging words about their ministry. We had been impressed with the Journey since day one and had felt that they were the most welcoming people. We said goodbye to many of them, although tomorrow a few of them would come with us to go shopping at the market again.

We went to the Java House-- are you surprised? Andrew came with us and told us that while we were gone he had gotten a job. Isn't it crazy how many changes can happen in a week?

By the way, when I was a kid I saw the Lion King in theaters. In 2003 with my junior high choir we saw the Lion King musical with part of its original cast. After seeing this our choir then sang several songs from the musical. In 2007 when I worked at Disney World I worked in the Living with the Land Pavilion which was basically dedicated to the Lion King; I went to the Lion King musical festival at the Animal Kingdom as well. At the time I just thought the movie was based on Africa but did you know it's more about Kenya? Here's some fun facts about the Lion King.

1. Inspiration for the scenery in the movie was taken from Hell's Gate National Park in Kenya.

2. The name Mufasa: reportedly the name of the last king of the Bagada people, who were dispersed during the English colonization of Kenya.

3. To prepare for the film some of the lead production crew made a trip to Africa to better understand the environment. The trip gave production designer Chris Sanders a new appreciation for the natural environments and inspired him to find ways to incorporate these elements into the design of the film.

4. The film was the highest grossing animated film of all time until the release of Finding Nemo. It has currently made worldwide at least 783, 841, 700 in grossing. It still remains the highest grossing hand-drawn animation (However, when inflation is adjusted it is the 4th largest grossing animated film.)

2 Timothy 4:16-18
At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them. But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. And I was delivered from the lion's mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Next Stop: Safari

2008-08-16T15:36:00.001-07:00

Covering Sunday June 22nd 2008

Acts 16:4-5

As they traveled from town to town, they delivered the decisions reached by the apostles and elders in Jerusalem for the people to obey. So the churches were strengthened in the faith and grew daily in numbers.

We left the next morning after praying and saying our goodbyes to Sevo's parents. The vans were much lighter this time since we weren't carrying the school resources and groceries. As we were leaving Western Kenya, April waved to every single person-- which accounted for some weird stares. Lance and her ended up playing a game to see who could get more waves on their side. It wasn't near as long of a ride coming to Butula because we stopped midway at a safari lodge. I had an extremely nice lunch-- at this point we had to be careful about what drinks we ordered money wise. No more entertaining juices for me!

It was tough going from living in a room with four other girls with the bare necessities and then going to the safari lodge which was luxurious. April and I shared a room, and we both got queen size beds with fancy mosquito nets. There were incense rocks-- April said they were mosquito repellent. We also had complimentary soaps and shampoos along with all the other normal wonders of a vacation stay. I crawled into bed and passed out-- essentially. I think that was the deepest sleep of the whole trip.

April said everyone else went swimming. I woke up in time to go downstairs and watch the traditional dancing. A few people from our team ended up dancing with the dancers. Then I had another safari style lodge meal-- which were full of choices that were all delicious. Except, the dessert always tricked me. There was a man going around singing songs on his guitar and he ended up singing for one of our tables.

The next morning we would have to be up early for the safari. I think I was awake by five in the morning. After dinner we checked out the gift shop and were surprised by the prices that were five to six times higher than those at the market from Nairobi. I bought a couple of postcards even though I knew they were slightly overpriced. Then April and I talked for awhile in our room and I checked some of my video tapes and realized I had been filming a lot more than I realized. I had over ten full tapes of footage. I then fell into a deep sleep again.

Short Swahili lesson

Simba - lion
Mufasa - last king of the Bagada people of pre-colonial Kenya
Sarabi - mirage
Nala - gift
Rafiki - friend
Pumbaa - be foolish, be dumbfounded, be astounded
Shenzi - barbarous
hakuna matata - no worries or no problem
"Asante sana, squash banana, we we nugu, mi mi apana," roughly translates to "Thank you very much, squash banana, you are a baboon, and I am not."

The next our rough translations from the songs.

From Circle of Life:

Nants ingonyama bagithi baba (There comes a lion)

Sithi uhhmm ingonyama (Oh yes, it's a lion)

Siyo Nqoba (We're going to conquer)
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala (Here is a lion and a tiger)

From Rhythm of the Pride Lands

He Lives in You:
Mamela (Listen)

Ubukhosi bo khokho (Throne of the ancestors)

We ndodana ye sizwe sonke (Oh, son of the nation)

Hela hey mamela (Hey, listen)

The Lion Sleeps Tonight:
Lala kahle (Sleep well)

Ingonyama ifile (The lion's in peace)

Ingonyama ilele (The lion sleeps)

Thula (Hush)

Ixesha lifikile (Time has come)

Kube:

Ngi vulel' Indlela Kube (Make way for me, Kube)

Kube Kube Kube-Tu (Kube, please)

Lea Halalela:

Fatshe leso (Our land)

Lea halalela (Is holy)

Uli-buse le lizwe (You must rule this land)

Izwe lethu (The land of the people)

Mhlaba wethu (Soil of the people)

Uli phathe Kahle (Handle it with care)

Izwe lethu (This land of ours)

Uzo libusa (You will rule)

Le lizwe (This land)

Uli buse kahle (Rule it with care)

U'zuli qondise (Keep it in order)

It's Time:
Moshanyana weso bo' itumele (My brother, be happy)
Ngwana weso bo' ithabise (My sister, celebrate)
Ithabise (Celebrate)
Tsatsi lahao (Your day)

One By One:

Ibambeni njalo bakithi (Hold on tight my people)

Ninga dinwa (Don't get weary)

Ninga phelelwa nga mandla (Don't lose your strength)

Siya ba bona (We can see)

Bebe fun' ukusi qeda (They wanted to hold us back)

Ngeke ba lunge (They will not succeed)

Sizo nqoba (We will win)

Ibambeni njalo bakithi (Hold on tight my people)

Ninga dinwa (Don't get weary)

Ninga phelelwa nga mandla (Don't lose your strength)

Ngoba thina (Because)

Siya zazi (We know who we are)

Ibala lami (The color of my skin)

Elimnyama (That is dark)

Ndiya zidla (I'm proud)

Ngalo (Of it)

Ibala lami (The color of my skin)

Elimnyama (That is dark)

Ndiza kufa (I will die)

Nalo (With it)

Lala:

Oh mta ka mama wam (Oh, my mother's child)

Oh mfo wethu (Oh, my dear brother)

Ndi ya ku khumbula mna (I miss you)

Ndi ya ku khalela mna (I cry for you)

Motswalle waka (My dear friend)

Ngwana mme (My mother's child)

Ndiyani khumbula (I miss you)

La la kahle (Farewell)

We sangoma ngi velelwe (Oh, spiritual healer, I'm troubled)

We baba ngivelelwe (Oh, my father, I'm in pain)

Busa:

Busa le lizwe (Rule this land)

Busa lomhlaba wethu (Rule this land of ours)

Busa ngo xolo (Rule with peace)

Shwele baba (Hail to you, Father)

Siyakubongela (We are grateful to you)

Usi lethel' injabulo (You brought us happiness)

Noxolo (And peace)

Liqhakazise baba (Brighten our future)

Ngo thando (With love)

Bayede baba (Father, we salute you)

Sikhokhele bo (Lead us)

Busa ngo thando (Rule with love)
Busa ngo xolo (Rule with peace)

Ubuse ngo thando (You must rule with love)

Busa Simba, busa Simba (Rule Simba, rule Simba)

Vusa amakhosi (Wake the ancestors)

Vusa amdlozi bo (Wake the spirits)

Busa Simba iyo (Rule Simba)

Noyana:

Sikuyo (We are)

Indlela (On the path)

Yelizwi (Of the voice)

Lobomi (Of righteousness)

Ikhaya labantu (Home to people)

Behleli ngendweba (Who lives with peace)

Nina ka (Some of you)

Nehluka (Are different)

Kuthixo (In the eyes of God)

Ngo kona (Because of your sins)

Nithini (What do you say?)

Noyana, noyana (Are you going? Are you going?)

Phezulu (Are you going to Heaven?)

Nithini noyana (What do you say? Are you going?)

Noyana (Are you going to get there?)

Noyana phezulu (Are you going up there?)

Luke 8:1-3

After this, Jesus traveled about from one town and village to another, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of God. The Twelve were with him, and also some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases: Mary (called Magdalene) from whom seven demons had come out; Joanna the wife of Cuza, the manager of Herod's household; Susanna; and many others. These women were helping to support them out of their own means.

Sweet Saturday

2008-08-15T23:12:00.000-07:00

Covering Saturday June 21st, 2008

Matthew 11:25
At that time Jesus said, "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children.

Who had the genius idea of bringing bubbles to Kenya? I don't know but I do know that I volunteered to play with bubbles during our block party. On our last day in Butula, we made a fun carnival like place for the children so they could play games and learn more about Christ and also have a way to have their parents meet the people they've been talking about and see who is giving them all the crafts. We had a ring toss, balloon animals, our own version of bowling, a face painting station, a fish game with magnets, and bubbles-- there was more.

Unfortunately, we never had a strong bubble solution. We wanted to make our own because the liquid would be extra weight that was unnecessary at the airport. Our solution didn't make bubbles; it was too soapy. I used some of the solution that was in a few of the wrapped bubble wands. It was enough to keep the children entertained for a couple of hours. The bubbles that could be made from that were huge-- I'll try not to stay on this topic too long because I'm sure some of you don't want to spend that much time reading about bubbles. There's probably two reasons why: one you would rather play with bubbles yourself and secondly reading about bubbles isn't exactly the greatest scholastic piece of literature. But it is not like I was attempting to write the greatest piece of scholastic literature when writing this journal.

To be honest, it wasn't what I had expected. It was kind of awkward at first because the kids would just stare at you while you waved bubbles. This was truly the job for me; it fits my personality in so many ways. The kids would attack the bubbles and clap for more. At the beginning they loved it but I think a few of them caught on that I was desperately trying to stretch what little we had. It was sticky. It was pretty when there was a ton of bubbles in the sky but kids are more interested in popping them than being in awe of all their colors. Some of the kids tried to use the wands that we had in the soapy detergent solution but it didn't do much. I gave out the wands that had solution to a few of the kids and they enjoyed those but of course the kids were competitive about who had them.

When those bubbles were out I was in a sticky situation. I was the only station that was finished and there was still plenty of time. But I had a consistent crowd and the kids were entertaining me. Eventually, it was just the place to play and not have to stand in a line. A few of the boys asked me to do tricks like their somersaults but I told them I couldn't. Instead it turned into a show of human tricks where they would do a trick and then I would. Surprisingly, I was more flexible than them and by putting my foot behind my head they were fairly impressed.

I was surprised they couldn't do some of the silly things I had been doing since I was a kid. One of the school teachers, I think the one who grilled us with questions in the 5th, 6th, and 7th grade combined, tried to help me with one of the tricks and he demonstrated it. I just sat on the ground, not intentionally I just couldn't hold my weight on my ankles. Somehow the solution in the bucket that wasn't being used was being thrown around by the kids with the bubbles. So, in my warped sense of humor I began taking a full handful of bubbles and water and ran around in a circle acting like I was going to throw it at the kids. Most of them just laughed at me. I, for the most part, ended up with the whole batch of solution on me. Even though it was just soap and water, I imagine it was a good thing I was the one covered in it. Anytime I would step back the kids would get closer to me. Then I would run after them with the bubbly solution. My team members thought I looked insane but the kids seemed to have enjoyed it. They had thrown bubble wands here and there and showed their disinterest and for most of the day I was entertaining them with jokes and silly human tricks.

Later, once we started closing all the stations down and gave out more candy-- which had an instant reaction in the kids blood sugar-- we had our last and final assembly of the whole trip. There were plenty of parents that had come to their children's school to see what had been happening. The whole day reminded me of elementary school. The teachers were also there to support their children and to cheer them in all the myriads of events. Also, there was a guy going around taking pictures for everybody and also if a child, or if parents or even teachers, wanted a picture with one of us he took one.

Someone from the team said that basically if you were a girl or if you had blonde hair they wanted a picture otherwise they didn't seem to care. I didn't mind although it was weird when someone would just hand me a child and ask for a picture-- there was no choice at all. My favorite was when I was with April and they made each of us hold a child and then after the picture we switched the kids we were holding and took another picture. I took pictures with whole families and with each child of the family. They would ask me to hold their child or hold their hand and it was a bit intense I must admit.

But things started cooling down as we came closer to assembly time. We had a sack race where a child and their parent had to race to the finish. At this point, I noticed that beyond the fence there were children who were not from the school that were watching. I felt a little sad that they could not be apart of it; I think it was just because they didn't go to the school. Then again, if they had been at the school I'm not sure anyone would have noticed. It was interesting that they stayed to watch us for so long. One of the girls ended up going to them and giving them candy.

For the assembly we we thanked everyone for letting us be there and Sevo introduced all of us. We had loved being with the children and we wanted them to know how special they all were. Some of the children who had performed in the music festival-- we ended up paying for their bus with our extra donations so that they could compete-- they did a short play for us. Then the younger kids came and sang-- we ended up singing with them.

We also sang a couple of popular Christian songs and then had a skit with a final message. We reenacted the story of when Jesus was preaching and the children came racing to him but the disciples pushed them away. We acted as the disciples and parents that brought children to Jesus. The children instantly flocked to us and helped us with our story.

Sevo made it clear to them who Jesus was and how much he valued everyone. He asked everyone to close their eyes for prayer and that if anyone wanted to know Jesus they should raise their hand. I of course had to peak and I saw a little boy shyly rise his hand in front of me. As for anyone else, I have no idea but it's definite we gave these children a new understanding about Christ and we had also conquered prejudices. We gave out juice and cookies to all the children and a few more pictures were taken.

After we had finished and families, children, teachers, and the like were making their way home I made an effort to get to where our welcome greeters had sat and wished everyone goodbye. Some of the older students tried to teach me some Swahili to sing and they danced with me and the music that was playing over the stereo system. They told me they were thankful that we had come and they wished we weren't leaving. They told me things seemed different while we were there and they felt change. They begged for us to stay but I told them we had to leave, for at least a little while. They said I had to come back and they had no doubts in their faces. It was as if I had no choice and was supposed to come back.

I high fived people as they left and also shook many hands. Many of the parents told me how thankful they were and also they were glad to see their children with lifted spirits. But the last person was the most memorable. The boy who I had been playing with the whole week was trying to hide. He was running around people and smiling heavily. I chased the kid and rubbed his head; I even carried him around and swung him in a circle. He was sad that we were leaving; it was written all over his face but yet he smiled proudly. I told him he had to keep being amazing for me and to watch the younger kids. He waved as he walked away. Mami had seen the whole moment. She asked me if I had known that he was an orphan. I didn't. I wanted to run after him so I could take him home. She told me that even though he didn't have parents that the community had been kind to him. He often stayed with a certain family and he was able to go to school. I have no idea how he became an orphan, whether his parents just could not raise him or if they had passed away-- yet I always saw him smiling and helping others. He stood out to me the entire week. He had a certain presence that was captivating.

Just now I was listening to the song "Adia." The original meaning behind it is about friends who have gone separate ways and is an apology for leaving, but there is a promise of healing from that pain. Sarah McLachlan gave little insight about the song and stated that she was merely looking for a name in the song. What's so peculiar to me is that the name "Adia" is a Swahili name that means being a gift. That boy was a gift to me and I hope that with my life I can write about him so that not only I will remember him but so will others.

(He's the boy in the front on the left side)

Matthew 19:13-15
Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them. Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

The Boy with His Lunch

2008-08-15T15:11:00.001-07:00

Covering Friday June 20th, 2008

Revelation 22:14-16
"Blessed are those who wash their robes, that they may have the right to the tree of life and may go through the gates into the city. Outside are the dogs, those who practice magic arts, the sexually immoral, the murderers, the idolaters and everyone who loves and practices falsehood."I, Jesus, have sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star."

On Friday, Jordan and I taught the older students about the boy who gave his lunch to Jesus in the new testament. It was the first time that I had a chance to teach a lesson in Butula. Each time we taught the lesson I think it got a little better. One teacher did an entire reenactment with his class. He found someone to split his biscuit (cookie) with their classmates. In the combined 5th, 6th, and 7th grade class we were attacked with questions that we think the teacher was giving to the students. These questions varied from: "Where was Jesus traveling when this happened?" "How many people were following him?" "Where's Gilead on a map?" "Did the boy get in trouble for giving up his food?" "How many days was Jesus in Gilead?" "Which disciples were with Jesus during this miracle?" "What did Jesus do before?"

I personally think we came up with plausible answers for those questions and if we ever honestly didn't know we would say it does say in the Bible but that wasn't something that we felt was important for today's story, or something along those lines. The question of whether the child got in trouble for giving up their lunch has to do more with the context of their culture. Here in America giving up your lunch might seem strange or even may show signs of something deeper mentally. There it could potentially be grounds for punishment since for some people, not all, food is scarce. I never would have asked that question myself so it was nice to have a new insight.

I was more energetic that day, and had gotten used to the strange dreams I was having. The nights kept repeating their self but I was too exhausted to care and as Sevo put it "We've already won." So there was nothing to fear.

Later that night, or the night before --I'm not sure how badly I'm mixing this week together-- we went to a hotel to eat at a buffet. I ended up sitting with Tim, he was our new team member that came for the week of Butula and he is Kristina's brother; I also sat with Lance and April. There were more people at the end of the table. We had a little more variety in diet and some of the best steak I've eaten in my whole life. I also tried a quiche for the first time along with some different fruit recipes-- the pineapple or something was fried somehow. They also had French fries which they called chips. Before we even traveled to the restaurant I actually saw what life was like around Butula. It was somewhat like I had imagined. The roads were filled with holes and life for the most part was obviously rural. The houses that we traveled by were open, and interestingly decorated. There were plenty of bonfires outside, and considering it was the rainy season, and this seemed colder to them than us, they were trying to make sufficient heat.

I remember lanterns that gave off an orange and yellow like glow, and I don't remember seeing many children. The stars were brighter here than in Nairobi, of course, but from my home in Mountain Home they weren't that much easier to see. Some of us were disappointed because we expected light pollution to be decreased in comparison with America so we were expecting a spectacular sight of a sky.

At night we had a bonfire and sang worship songs. Later a few of us stayed by the fire to have a few nightly talks about church and the sort. One of Sevo's brothers told us all about Kenya and what was happening with church. He told us about jealousy in the area and how that brought, or spawned, witchcraft. Also, when Christians had originally come through Kenya many of them allowed witchcraft alongside the teachings-- which makes no sense at all considering witchcraft is about giving yourself to an unknown source and the worship of Satan.

Sevo's brother also told us about some of the things that had been happening such as people being jealous of Hekima Academy and its success. It made others jealous to see success so they did what they could to throttle that. The witches would present their selves as teachers without letting their fellow teachers fully know their background. I find it disturbing to think that a child who is innocently going to school could be taught very sinister and backwards things. In fact, that may be the darkest thing I've ever heard.

These teachers of course were trying to bring down this school and what it was offering. Some of our original plans were to go into the community around the compound to do projects to allow more people to hear the message of Christ. Sevo's parents were uncomfortable with this idea and after hearing about more of the area I can understand a little of why they would feel that way. We were stretching his parents quite a lot with the things we were doing. Also, not only were teachers coming that were disguised witches but children of these witches were sent to foil the school.

But regardless, the school kept growing and more standards (grades) were being added. It started with one child and after fighting the circumstances and being patient the school grew to 261 students by the time we had arrived. It was amazing. Of course it's tough when people are trying to scare you or destroy your plans. I wouldn't find it easy to wake up and find a chicken with its head cut off on my porch or when they go through hanging laundry, but a lot of what they are doing is just trying to scare you. I know hardly anything on this matter.

While we were there during our trip, eleven supposed witches fairly close to this area were murdered from a list of made names. I didn't know this until I started doing research at home on events that happened while we were in Kenya.

I apologize because I know that I am writing things in an incorrect order. This bonfire had to have occurred before I met with Mami when I was headed to the school to take pictures because of a pertinent part of the conversation that had built to that moment. It's unbelievable how different these two weeks panned out.

I added the above video because it features the Masai in Tanzania.

Ezekiel 13:20-21 Therefore this is what the Sovereign LORD says: I am against your magic charms with which you ensnare people like birds and I will tear them from your arms; I will set free the people that you ensnare like birds. 21 I will tear off your veils and save my people from your hands, and they will no longer fall prey to your power. Then you will know that I am the LORD.

Learning to Be Like Mary

2008-08-14T18:35:00.000-07:00

Covering Thursday June 19th, 2008

Acts 1:14
They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers.

Another nightmare. This time I woke up and was just annoyed. I normally don't have nightmares and three in a row is just fowl play. This time I dreamed that someone was trying to reach through the window. I felt something cold on my leg. I woke up and looked at my leg and could have sworn I saw the net move, probably my leg. But what was strange this night was April. She was snoring in the most peculiar way that I had ever heard. It was like she was snoring but all the noise was liquid. I've never been too great about sleeping in the same room as someone who snores. My oldest brother is worse-- he starts to figure out what the tempo is to the snoring. I do find it hard to sleep when things that are too rhythmic.

I decided to wake her up considering this was abnormal behavior for her and she went back to sleep rather calmly, without strange noises. I ended up turning on my flashlight and then going to sleep for the rest of the night. The mosquito nets were thick enough that it wouldn't interfere with anyone else and my flashlight was dim. I figured if anything else was going to happen at least the next time I would have light that I could shine.

Our next morning was similar-- breakfast, shower, assembly, play with kids. I had the craft again, which I thought was cool but I wanted to do something else after realizing that it's hard to be close with the children during the craft session. Kristina and I barely made it through one classroom when she had to leave. I figured someone needed her for a few minutes. I ended up, along with the second grade teacher, tying several strips together to make as many bracelets as I could. I became worried as the minutes passed that maybe something worse had happened than what I had initially thought. Apparently, Chrissy had passed out while playing games with the kids. She had scrapped up her hand pretty bad during the fall and it was decided that it would be better for her to be inside so that she doesn't fall again. I switched places with her and ended up playing the games with the youngest groups with Jordan.

It was time to switch classes when I had come outside; the pre-K unit was ready to play. Jordan was excited about how well the previous class had played the games and expected that these kids would follow just the same. He gave them directions about a game and then they all charged off in one direction beyond the school. All the adults just stared at them as they raced. I couldn't help but laugh because I had no idea what those kids were doing. They heard a direction and immediately obeyed. Eventually, we got them all together and had the unusual experience of teaching kids who at this point understood little of English because of their age and because they probably knew Swahili better. We tried to teach them the hokey pokey but instead it turned into Father Abraham. They also enjoyed hopping around in circles. These kids were hilarious. You couldn't say three words without them taking off with it and exploding with all kinds of rambunctious energy.

Then the classes switched again and we had the first graders that I had awkwardly tried to stretch time with during the Mary craft. The first graders were not near as hilarious as the pre-K unit but there was one point where I was being chased by nearly 20 children during a game of tag. They were better about the games but still confused which was something I enjoyed. Jordan tried to teach them this game where he called out a certain number that each child had been designated and the child whose number was called would compete with all the others who were called to see who could bring the soccer ball back to their team but instead anyone would run to the ball-- and the girls who I helped seemed as if they were having a sugar high. For some strange reason, this group was mesmerized by my sunglasses-- I had another pair besides the one I gave away in Mathare-- and a few of them petted my hair.

I think these kids were beginning to like our team. The children were becoming a lot more expressive and learning that they could get away with doing that with us. I forgot to mention this in yesterday's post, but the boy who helped me figure out the other boy's name, I sat with him in his third grade class to help him make a crown-- it wasn't that the process was hard I just found that this kid was something special so I wanted to keep my eye on him. All of these kids were amazing and I don't think I got to have as much personal time with them as I did with the children from Mathare but nonetheless they were wonders to watch.

(The pictures above tell how badly I'm mixing days.)

After playing with the kids and all the hilarity that ensued, it was tea time. At our meeting, Jordan thanked me and everyone clapped for me being so willing to change places, and I was bit taken back. I thought it was nice that my team patted me on the back but I couldn't help but think of the opposite scenario-- what basket case would have been too skittish to switch places with Chrissy? Chrissy had the wonderful assistance of Sevo taking out pebbles and dirt from her hand. It was painful to watch; clearly it was more painful for her.

Later the guys were working on construction while the girls were supposed to do laundry. I was trying to nap again. Somehow I was caught between moving blankets from the meeting room to the girls' place and everyone looked at me like I was pure evil. "What?" For some reason I thought the laundry process was optional-- honest mistake. I didn't have any laundry that needed to be cleaned-- I did but it wasn't necessary. I ended up doing other people's laundry which is kind of gross, personally. I was the butt of a lot of jokes for my stunt in trying to sleep. It wasn't that I was addicted to sleeping during this trip it's just the amount of hours and the scheduling had completely thrown me off. I imagine if I were to go back on any other mission trip like this I would do a better job of finding energy. The worst part was actually when we were going back to the States. I couldn't sleep on the plane that was headed for France and so I nearly passed out while everyone was getting food. I thought for sure I was getting sick.

Anyway, the laundry was entertaining and it was obvious that we as girls were connecting more but the sad part is we only had a few days left and we would eventually be going back home to whatever our regular life may be. That was painful. It was hard to adjust once getting home because certain things about life in America suddenly stuck out like a fall in Olympic gymnastics. It was hard to go from being completely immersed in Christ, basically having your life on the line, to going back to America and not necessarily feeling like that. It makes you want to go back into the field and have more commitments to such missionary work. We touched so many lives and it was fantastic but to be back home was overwhelming. I still have a hard time when people ask me about Kenya because I don't know where to begin. I'm behind in putting everything together from this trip.

For those that had laundry done, it was hand washed in our creative assembly line of basins. I was given the job to twist out the water: I was terrible at this. The clothes were dried on a clothes line. You know, I know I'm combining days from Butula. It's very hard not to do this.

After the laundry was done, some of the girls wanted to go take pictures of the kids. At first, I didn't want to see them. It was unbearable to be so attached to them and all the joy they spread. I loved them so much and sometimes it hurt. I eventually took my camera-- eventually means after about 5 minutes-- and headed towards the school part of the compound. Before I reached there Mami stopped me.

She asked me to go sit on her lap. I was not expecting that but I figured there was nothing wrong with it. Without hesitation I did so and she told me how sweet I was and how pretty I was and how kind. I was touched but also confused because I didn't think she had been around me enough to even know who I was at all and she didn't remember my name so this was all compelling.

Previously in the day, we went over to Mami-- the whole team-- and we prayed over her. We asked that God would heal her leg and we prayed for the school and just everything possible. I remember having a strong feeling about this prayer because of all the things I had already seen and how the power of prayer was growing in our team. After a few minutes when the rest of us had gone to the meeting room, Mami came over and danced for joy that she could walk again. It was a miracle to see. It was just a flat out miracle. Sevo warned us to not get ahead of ourselves and what we had just seen. That she would still need to go to the doctor to get her leg checked out and she may still need surgery. But regardless, the response she gave was a powerful testimony because one way or another she was jumping for joy because in someway she felt like God had reached down and touched her and she had the most authentic smile on her face. After this experience and the day before when she talked with all of us girls about life, I had become attached to her.

So when she complimented me and it didn't make since to me I didn't question it either because I knew she was being authentic; she may have had some motives but she was definitely authentic. She asked me various questions about life and asked if I would stay there with her on the compound. I was shocked. I said I would try to come back and visit but I don't think I could stay. She didn't like that and would keep saying I should stay. Then she asked me about my mom-- which was unexpected to me as an American. I had learned in Kenya that certain questions that may have seemed imposing in America were fairly natural in Kenya and they weren't that imposing. She wanted to know how many sisters I had and brothers. I told her I had two brothers. And she asked again how many sisters I had, and I said none. And she looked at me very funny like she could pry into my head and know exactly what I was feeling.

Then she asked if I was the youngest, and I said yes. She moaned and I was so confused. She said I couldn't be taken away from my mom and that my mom was lucky because otherwise... well anyway, and she said that would make my mom too sad and that just wasn't right and that I should love my mom and watch over her. I seriously felt like she had somehow reached my mom and talked to her; I felt like she had known my mom her whole life. It was mystifying in a way; I could tell this woman had such depth and insight, or was extremely talented in making me believe so. Her eyes literally sparkled. Whatever she had been doing to get close to God definitely worked.

She then started talking about her sons and was trying to match me up with one. I was somewhat amused because I'm frankly amused when anyone tries to set me up so I had to think of a way to casually walk away from this moment which ended up being me saying that I knew a girl on the team who might be interested in such a deal. I sent her April, who had no idea what was happening.

I then went over to the school and took some of the best pictures I have ever taken. They show-- the truth. That's what they are. They show the truth of how these kids feel in Kenya. The children were so beautiful to begin with but with a camera there was something special that they did that most normal children don't. They didn't care what they looked like or if the picture was perfect or who looked the best they just thought it was cool that I was taking their picture. They looked so authentic and beautiful, and what's best is they were filled with joy. These children who had just undergone one of the worst situations in 2008 were completely free and incandescent. It was touching and powerful. When I got home and looked at these pictures I was so shocked. I couldn't believe my camera had such a thing on them, nor did I know that it could take pictures that well. I was amazed; I still am amazed.

I went back to April and Mami and couldn't help but smile because I knew what I had done. April looked a bit flabbergasted and was trying hard not to say the wrong words because it was easy to accidentally say that you were going to marry into the family, which isn't a problem at all but you still have to be careful. I got lost in the conversation as well and nearly ended up getting set up on a double date alongside April. It was all in good fun-- maybe.

We had another bonfire and discussed more of what we were feeling and so forth. We also tried star tripping again. I can't remember on Friday if we had a bonfire or not. It seemed as though these days were similar and they all flowed together. In a way, I'm thankful for that. I'm also sad that I can't tell them apart as easily as the week in Nairobi-- with the exception of certain highlights like the lesson.

Luke 2:19
But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.

Day of Esther

2008-08-14T16:15:00.000-07:00

Covering Wednesday June 17th, 2008

Esther 8:3-4
Esther again pleaded with the king, falling at his feet and weeping. She begged him to put an end to the evil plan of Haman the Agagite, which he had devised against the Jews. Then the king extended the gold scepter to Esther and she arose and stood before him.

The next day, wait, that morning I had another nightmare. I don't remember the exact details of this one. It wasn't as bothersome as the first nightmare. The next day we had to wake up early. This time I actually noticed the horrendous rooster that sounded more like it was croaking than waking us at 5:00 in the morning. I will always remember Chrissy back talking to the rooster. It always put a smile on my face because she did it sweetly but would say something like "I will put you out of your misery."

We began our Vacation Bible School at their assembly. On Wednesday, we were up early enough to join the children at their daily assembly. This is where the children were told various announcements and sang songs together. One of their songs made a lasting impression on our team: Jehovah Jirah. Everyone met outside the school. I don't think I explained this in any of the earlier posts, but in Butula our life was strictly set on the compound where Sevo's parents lived and where the school resided. We could walk from our bedroom to the school in five minutes or less. It was a large compound and I didn't explore it much. I kept to the places we were told to go.

During the assembly, they told us how excited they were to have us as guests and that they hoped we would enjoy our stay. The students were informed that school would be different for the rest of the week to give us time to give the students instruction on the Bible. Our plan was to teach to the students each day about a different Bible character that began their walk of faith as a child. This way they could see that God used children for his ministry and that he valued all of us despite age. That was the message we were presenting these children-- and I do believe they understood what the love of Christ meant. It's cool to think that we were apart of a healthy ministry to these students.

On this day, Lance and I would be giving out the craft for the Esther lesson. We would be going to the older classes which were the 3rd, 4th, and combined 5th, 6th, and 7th graders. We would be giving them a long piece of construction paper that would become a crown after cutting and coloring. It was a simple craft but it took up all the time that we had. Lance and I did our best to disperse the long pieces of paper into the students' hands, to have them color it, to cut it, and staple it together in 30 minute increments. We basically walked into the door and never stopped moving. It was a mess; there were pieces of paper all over the floor. Lance and I did end up having fun in this extreme race to finish this craft. We had to keep crafts simple because of our limits on supplies and weight at the airport. The students did enjoy what we had brought and they wore their crowns for the rest of the day.

During our last class, we actually ran into a problem: we were low on paper. We were also low on staples and the teachers at Hekima Academy were suddenly becoming more interested in making the craft for their self instead of the children. Some children barely got a chance to work on their crown while others hogged crayons. It was fairly intense, and unexpectedly messy. But when we had only a few strips of paper left we had to be creative for our last class. We ended up cutting the paper into thirds which worked except it still wouldn't be enough. I passed all the crowns out and we knew we didn't have enough after counting several times but somehow everyone did end up having enough paper. It was bizarre.

After making the crowns, and lunch, I went to the girl's room and slept for awhile. I had been more exhausted than I was in Nairobi-- maybe I was still trying to cope with all the energy loss from Nairobi. I was tired the whole week, my spirits just felt lowered. I tried to keep my energy going but it was tough. If I remember correctly, this was the day that we met with Sevo's Mom, who we called Mami, and Nicole and Chrissy gave her all the resources that had been collected in America. Butula was a bit more of a blur to me than the rush of Nairobi. Each day was so similar that in my mind it all blended together.

I also say that Nicole and Chrissy gave the resources, even though our whole team had a part in giving them away, because this was something special these two teachers had put together. They had worked hard for this moment and seeing them give all the supplies to Mami was special to them.
While we worked with Mami, the boys of our mission team helped build a classroom for Hekima Academy. We ended up fishing out materials from various suitcases and organized all the books, paper packets, scissors, glue, and the sort. Mami was clearly touched and excited for all the possibilities and newly opened up opportunities for teaching these students who she loved. Time went by as Mami talked to us about life; she basically considered us as her daughters. She sincerely meant that. She poured out her life to us and gave us wisdom on everything she could think of from marriage to children. It was sweet to see how much she loved us and how she was pouring out her life to us.

I went back to the girls' room and found a chicken's egg sitting in the twine that was on the lower bed of my bunk bed. My first thought was that this was another one of the boy's half made pranks-- they had been planting a fake snake in several places since Nairobi. I showed everybody the egg and then we began to suspiciously believe that
Sevo had put the egg in the one empty bed because he was trying to teach us a lesson.

We then had dinner, not with the newly found egg, and we had our first bonfire. While being in Butula, we saw each other more as a team. When we were in Nairobi, we were constantly moving and getting to know the Journey. While we were in Butula, we worked more together; I wasn't trying to shirk doing busy work but while people were cutting strips for tomorrow's Mary-craft-bracelets I was coloring a crown. Lance didn't get to color his crown during our craft so I thought I would do that for him and it was my way of saying thanks for being a cool friend and for helping me with the craft lesson. We had many good talks during the whole trip and I appreciated that he looked out for me and the rest of the girls during more iffy situations. After awhile, people noticed that I was just coloring so I began being attacked on being distant, however I cut the strips incredibly fast and was done so I had already moved to a new project.

For some reason, I wanted a little more alone time and I think it was just because I was overwhelmed with so many things from the trip. At the time, I wasn't particularly happy with myself because I kept wanting to withdraw from the group and we were actually finally bonding as a team.

After finishing the craft, we played mafia which was a silly game that got people ridiculously mad at each other and began to show that we were a group of intense arguers. We also went star tipping. After the bonfire, several people had gone to bed; a few of us went to a dark corner of the compound to play the weird game just mentioned. You were supposed to look at a spot in the sky and keep your eye there while you were spun around in circles several times. When someone holds up a flashlight to your eyes it's supposed to be unbearable so you end up making a strange face and then you fall to the ground. We couldn't figure out whether it was too bright outside or what the problem was but I never fell. Most people did, and it was completely hilarious. Some people would actually make a face, take two or three steps, and then fall to the ground.

Esther 7:3-4 Then Queen Esther answered, "If I have found favor with you, O king, and if it pleases your majesty, grant me my life—this is my petition. And spare my people—this is my request. For I and my people have been sold for destruction and slaughter and annihilation. If we had merely been sold as male and female slaves, I would have kept quiet, because no such distress would justify disturbing the king. "

A New Beginning

2008-08-14T13:54:00.000-07:00

(word count 1179)

Covering Tuesday June 17th, 2008

1 Samuel 28:16-18
Samuel said, "Why do you consult me, now that the LORD has turned away from you and become your enemy? The LORD has done what he predicted through me. The LORD has torn the kingdom out of your hands and given it to one of your neighbors—to David. Because you did not obey the LORD or carry out his fierce wrath against the Amalekites, the LORD has done this to you today.

The next morning we gathered in the living room to pray for our message to the children. This week would be dedicated to giving them a vacation Bible school. We discussed all our feelings and trepidations considering the set-up for this week was different then all the times we worked with the children in Nairobi.

We also discussed a great deal about spiritual warfare after I had told everyone about my dream-- I felt odd talking about my dream because you never know how a group will react to that. Other people in our group had been experiencing similar feelings and dreams. Sevo barely mentioned it but he said there was a great deal of witchcraft and jealousy in the area. He never expanded on that, although I was curious as to what all that meant. Nothing seriously bad ever happened to us, but at times throughout our stay in Butula I had a strange sinking suspicion that I wasn't getting the whole picture so I tried to reason out what could \be happening at more peculiar moments. That may not have been the wiset thinking.

We prayed intensely about this subject.

As well, we also had breakfast. We had bought a lot of items and throughout the course of the week we would become very sick of the food we had bought. There was plenty of fruit, kool-aid like juices, hard boiled eggs, sausage, rice, crackers (I forget what we were supposed to call those, maybe crackers), biscuits (cookies), and the giant sized bread that I had found.

This was the first day we had the chance to sleep a few more hours-- which means we were awake at 9:00. We taught the David lesson, which we were all familiar with since we all taught it in Mathare. Except, this time we split the school in half. We split them into two groups by age.

I got to be with the older students; they were delightful. These students were not as bold as the kids in Mathare. Hekima Academy was more formal; these students were extremely polite and courteous-- they were also quiet. It amazed me to see all the different dynamics from each class. For some of our mission team they found Hekima's more quiet students to be discouraging because they were unsure how the students felt since they weren't being as expressive as our previous group. For our David lesson, I sat with the children-- which they found funny. I helped them to yell for David and boo against Goliath. April read most of the story to them.

Afterwards, we played a giant game of red rover-- which was supposed to be the Israelites against the Philistines. In the end, it was basically hundreds of students charging towards each other, which was definitely entertaining.

It was late in the day and the students were going home. We played in their playground, which consisted of a swing and a tire. Originally, we intended to do construction work to add more to the playground. It didn't matter what the children had because they knew how to make the most from what they were given. We still wished we could add to what they had but for various reasons we had to put the project on hold for future teams. In fact, more of our mission team used the swing then the children. As for the tire, several of the boys did somersaults off it. They asked us to try, but I think Josh put it nicely when he said that he would end up breaking his back.

They also did walking handstands, they break danced, and a small music group practiced their songs for an upcoming music festival. There was one boy who showed us magic tricks.

There was one little boy that I chased around a tree for a long time; he was shy but very giggly and was pretending to hide. One little boy came up to me while I was playing with the other boy and the new boy politely told me the smaller shy boy's name and age. However, this boy never told me his. Throughout the trip, the same boy who gave me his classmate's name often came up to me to tell me helpful things. It was like he was always watching me and knew when to help. A few of us girls, maybe a couple of boys, played limbo. Then in the blink of an eye the children began going home and our whole team was exhausted.

As for the rest of the night, the only thing I remember was that we cut several pieces of paper to make crowns for the next day in our craft for the Esther lesson. There was also a hilariously long conversation in trying to figure out how many children there actually were at the school. We found there were more younger students than older. I believe the first grade class was the largest-- somewhere around 45. The seventh grade class was the highest grade and it had somewhere around 12-15 students. Each grade was different with its own personalities and perks. But everything did seem similar to my own childhood. Many of the things that I did when I was a kid in each of these grades seemed reminiscent while being in Butula. If there's one thing I learned it's that even though we have a variety of differences in our cultures and we have many different methods for approaching the world I think there's many things that are universal that we tend to overlook.

1 Samuel 17:41-46
Meanwhile, the Philistine, with his shield bearer in front of him, kept coming closer to David. He looked David over and saw that he was only a boy, ruddy and handsome, and he despised him. He said to David, "Am I a dog, that you come at me with sticks?" And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. "Come here," he said, "and I'll give your flesh to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field!" David said to the Philistine, "You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the LORD Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the LORD will hand you over to me, and I'll strike you down and cut off your head. Today I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds of the air and the beasts of the earth, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel.

Traveling West

2008-08-13T20:08:00.000-07:00

Covering Monday June 6th, 2008

Romans 12:10-12
Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.

After Carnivore, I went straight into my room to pack. We would be heading out the next day at five in the morning. I ended up crashing in the middle of packing and had to scramble the next morning to put everything together. I consolidated everything from the two suitcases into the small carry-on. I don't even know how I accomplished this feat. This was probably my worst morning.

I was so groggy, partly because I took two Dramamines and a Tylenol PM- which may not even be healthy. I was told there would be significant bumps in the road, and since we were on the road for 14 hours I decided I wouldn't risk having car sickness knowing my wonderful history that way too many people have experienced. Thankfully, I did not get sick, but my energy was shot from the pills and the lack of sleep I had.

I sat in the front , which I presumed would be fine since I enjoyed being there all week. There was something wrong with the air-conditioner and so the driver turned on the heat, and we had to keep the window down most of the time because of the dust. Before we even started heading to Butula for our next week in Kenya we went to the Nakumatt-- the Wal-Mart influenced store.

This is a rough estimate but I think we were at Nakumatt for almost two hours waiting for supplies. I was hungry and the mixture of heat and cool breeze reminded me of unpleasant days outside.

Once on the road, it was like an oven. I just accepted it and fell back, but those who ended up having to sit with me were doomed to the heat. Luckily, we were there during the rainy, more winter like season, otherwise we might have been crying our eyes out with what our driver wanted to do with the heater.

We saw several interesting sights along the road including tea fields, the Massi, shepherds, and basically a more rural lifestyle that was shockingly different from Nairobi.

We ended up staying at a nice buffet like place for lunch where people exchanged their stories about the horrors of not being able to use the bathroom during the most rocky adventure of their lives-- with all the hype I somehow didn't think it was that bad-- oh yeah, I forgot about the drugs. What I remember most about this place was that on the television Rent came on and that gave me a strange feeling, just to know that our film and media industry was making itself be heard all over the world. That, and I also remember this is where I was beginning to pick up a habit of using toothpicks after every meal. I was doing my best to keep the beefy meat that we ate at every meal from being stashed between my teeth. Otherwise the meat would just stay there to irritate my gums. I haven't had my teeth checked since high school when I had my braces, I imagine my next check-up will be a painful one.

The road was hot and long and my mind was not in its best cognitive or logical mindset. We had a few snacks to keep ourselves from completely going crazy. I have no idea where I put my gameboy but I'm sure I thought about it at this point-- I seem to always forget that I'm prone to carsickness and that a gameboy is not a friend to that.

We had our second Nakumatt adventure around five or six. We had to get more supplies for Butula. I was astonished that we were getting more supplies. We were already packed to the brim. In fact, when we left Nairobi we had to battle with our drivers to take all the goods that we wanted to begin with: our luggage and the supplies for Butula. Now, we were adding more goods because we were going to a rural part of the world that didn't have a supermarket nearby. I figured we were getting a couple of things, or maybe ten things; we ended up with a whole army size list. We actually broke into groups and made it a competition-- whoever picked their groceries the fastest would get to pick their beds first. When you're fighting over your beds before seeing them it does make you wonder what exactly you are trying to win.

My strategy was to be on Sevo's team because he's from Kenya and logically he would know the store better than anyone else, but I could not have been more wrong. I should never make logical decisions. April and I, along with one of the guys, I apologize I can't remember but I think it was Weston, were with Sevo. I think Jenny's team finished first. I've learned my lesson: always go with the most organized person you can find. Sevo had a bit more trouble and was meticulous about what he was purchasing since he was about to see his parents which is a special occasion considering the ordeal it takes to go from the United States to Butula, Kenya. As well he was bringing visitors with him and his parents would be seeing Imani for the first time. It's definitely a journey.

April and Sevo may have discussed which cups and plates to buy for a good 20 minutes. I was concerned because I may not be picky when it comes to food I am however a bit picky when it comes to where I sleep and my mood the next day can be a direct result of it. I might not mind sleeping on the floor or even a bed that you can feel every last spring, but it's more the location of the bed: I hate beds that are right next to the door or the window.

I remember we ran around the store like chickens without heads looking for various items and we knew people we were watching us which was a little strange since we were doing something as normal as grocery shopping. I learned that serviettes meant napkins. I also remember getting giant sized bread. That and somehow there was an incident where a plate was dropped. Oh, and yet again we had to bargain prices. I was also made fun of by the cashier for buying razors-- you should never make fun of someone who only bought razors even though I'm about as much of a threat as a fluffy bunny.

We then ate at the Nakumatt. We were fought over by the Chinese restaurant-- or was it sandwiches how can I remember this day less than previous days-- and the pizza guy. We ate pizza-- and it was unlike any I had prior in my life. Many people did not eat their pizza at all; I was tired of taking the dreaded malaria pill. It seemed like everyday there was a new wave of people that were sick on the team and who were feeling it harder. It's a challenge not to be a little paranoid the more they talk about how awful it is but I was still confident that it was the least of my worries.

We ended up cramming more supplies into the van after dinner, which was a miraculous world breaking record. I sat in the back this time and there were so many things we were carrying at this point that they were stacked to my neck. We still had a couple of hours on the road before reaching Sevo's parents. We wanted to reach Butula before it was dark because that's when it supposedly gets dangerous. I ended up successfully falling asleep partly because something wonderful happened: all the pillows we had previously bought fell on top of me. I was no longer to be found. I was also holding random breakable objects. I wish someone had taken a picture of me because I'm sure I looked ridiculous. It seemed like a fairly smooth ride. Then, I suddenly got an eerie feeling.

Granted I was half asleep, there was something about the way things were happening that I didn't like. I looked outside; I opened my eyes to find that there were police flashing their flashlights into our car. I felt like we were going to be stopped because of me and how peculiar I looked with so many things on top of me. I grabbed the pillow and covered up the window before they had a chance to shine their light on me. I figured I didn't even want that chance to arise-- plus a little bit of light after some sound sleep was not welcomed. As I peeked outside, I was somewhat discouraged by the things I saw. I looked into the distance and saw many shacks as we traveled along. The places had lanterns and strange things hanging from the walls and fires brewing and just a dark sense altogether. Wait, that's not true. What really happened, is right after we were spotted by the police I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was like I had entered a whole new place that I can't describe. It was like I was beyond just foreign territory, but more like foreign spiritual territory.

I had this sense that I shouldn't look outside and I don't know why I felt that way. But there was this feeling that we were in the middle of a forest and there were people in the distance that knew we were there; that they knew we were Christians. I'm telling you, at the time it greatly bothered me, and I didn't end up going to sleep but everything seemed to have gone in fast motion. As we traveled towards the edge of western Kenya that feeling in my stomach just kept getting worse. I knew there was something out there that was bad, evil, beyond my knowledge. I felt safe in the van, and I didn't want to think outside it because I felt like we were driving in a night full of dangers but that we were incredibly naive to whatever was going around us. I did some hardcore praying while I was in Butula.

I sat there and prayed for our safety and for God to have mercy on us, to keep us safe, and to send us angels. I thought I was losing it, or maybe one of the objects that hit my head wasn't a pillow. I instantly did start feeling better as I prayed; I also felt like God had sent me loved ones to watch over me. I don't know what was happening, but a few days later when we were traveling to a restaurant I kept my eyes open and looked outside and saw many of the things I had envisioned. That time I was bit more keen.

When we finally arrived we were greeted with open arms by Sevo's parents. His mother was unable to walk, for the most part. I remember his Dad being vaguely quiet. We met in the room that we would so many times throughout our time in Butula and it would be like our sanctuary. I liked the spot where I originally sat and I tended to go back to it almost every time. We had to unpack all of our resources, groceries, and luggage before heading to bed. I was pumped that I had packed everything in such a small suitcase, it made life easier. The boys and girls had their own separate places respectively; Nicole and Josh had a room and Sevo, Kristina, and Imani had a room.

We used a basin and had hot water for our shower; thankfully the water was hot even though I was used to cold water. I did appreciate hot water. Our toilet was entertaining, for one thing you could lock people in the bathroom. There was also the other option, which was-- there's no other way of saying this-- a hole in the ground.

The sink was outside with a mirror. Then, in the girls cabin we had three bunk beds. I ended up being by the window and the door-- I don't like those spots in case in some bizarre situation someone tries to break into a room. These were nice beds, in fact, later in the week one of the animals would sneak into the place to happily lay her eggs on one of the beds. The mosquito nets for these beds were impressive. They pulled over the entire bunk bed so if you were on the top you could potentially be stuck. Fortunately, I had a whole bed to myself-- which isn't a big deal in the world of bunk beds.

Across from me was April, and across from her was Chrissy. Below Chrissy was Jenny and below April was Wacey, and then nobody was in the bottom bed which was where random things were placed. There were two windows that were easy to open from the inside and out even though there were bars separating it from the outside. The door could be locked in two ways: either the people inside had it locked to where no one could come inside or you could lock it outside and the people who were inside were in a jam.

I read my Bible like I do every night before I go to bed. I used to have major problems going to sleep and began picking up strange sleeping habits after a series of horrific nightmares. They weren't normal nightmares and they made being twelve and thirteen a bit more drastic than need be, that is when it came to sleeping. I used to be incredibly afraid to go to sleep because I would have these vicious demonic nightmares and then I would just flat out be freaked for the day. I think some of them were caused by phobias that I had, for instance the driving ones.

When I was nine I was in a bad car accident. When my family was traveling home from church a woman and her son hit our vehicle while she was looking for the airport and didn't realize we were in the lane. I didn't have my seatbelt on at the time-- which was peculiar in itself. I flew forward and almost crashed going 60 to 80 miles or however fast we were going into a mini-van pit. While falling, everything went into slow motion and I was surprisingly calm. I thought I was going to die, and somehow at the age of nine I accepted it. It's amazing all the thoughts I had at once when this happened. I remember seeing a lot of green light and hearing things that were surprisingly comforting opposed to hearing my mom scream when the whole incident started. Fortunately, I came out without a scratch. I didn't hit the the bottom of our van at an unsafe speed and my face wasn't smashed into a horribly disfigured mess and I didn't die. My brother Mike was able to lean forward and grab me back. I was pretty shocked, and I didn't start crying for a few minutes which was not normal behavior for me.

I began having dreams from that at a young age. They got graphically worse as I got older, but the ones that petrified me were the ones that started happening when I was a little older that were seriously alarming. Those started right after a family vacation at some cabin. I don't know what happened but that place scared me bad, something about it spooked me because it was the first time I seriously went hysterical after a dream. There were times I cried, but not like this. I have repressed whatever it was that spooked me.

After reading the Bible right before I went to sleep, I felt like I had received some promise from God. I don't know if anyone will believe me but whenever I would read the Bible those nightmares would go away; they always go away. Whenever I didn't read the Bible I risked the chance of it happening. I don't recall a time that I read the Bible and something happened, or maybe it did. There was one time I knew I wasn't exactly reading the Bible in my heart but was just simply reading words. This was the only time I read the Bible and things were a bit off. I don't know why God was allowing me to experience this but it was unpleasant.

A lot of the dreams I had were similar. They had to do with either the end of the world-- which is not something you want to be facing when you are a seventh grader-- or one of those weird ones that apparently many people, if not everyone, experience. It's where you feel like you are awake in your room in bed and you can look around and everything is placed exactly right. There's one problem: you can't move. You try and try and try but nothing ever happens. You are totally glued to your bed. You look over and there's something looming and it grows more vivid. It doesn't have a face because it's veiled in something black. Maybe sometimes it will have some sort of hand, and where it's watching you could be different. You may feel something from it but it is indescribable because what you're mostly feeling is fear. Whatever that thing is can't be right. I've had that dream too many times in various places-- I've had a strange account where someone actually told me they were awake and saw what was happening which was eerie. They ended up drawing a picture so that I would believe them; they were dead accurate about my dream.

This time there wasn't just one of them but four. I had never had more than one in a dream so that made it all the more frightening to me. I tried hard to wake myself up. What was different about this dream, however, was that behind them there was this white clear like mist all around them, and I felt like I could see the stars somehow in a way.

The next morning I probably would have forgotten this dream with all the activities we had planned and the new experience of being in rural Africa. My friend April asked if any of the girls heard me last night when we were in the cabin. My first thought was did I talk in my sleep? That's a new one. April then told me I was screaming, not talking not whimpering, screaming. But not like a scary movie type of action scene because I would have woke up the whole compound. She had woken up to get a blanket from around the door-- the blankets were behind where what I saw in my dream took place. I didn't say anything at this point about what happened, but at that point I realized we were facing spiritual warfare to a new degree, and that this was the first time after years of reading the Bible that I had one of these visions.

Does anyone remember what I said about Doxycycline? I figure as a Christian I should put in both what I believe and what could alternately be possible so that you can decide what the truth of the matter was in these situations. I think that's fair. Also, I tried my best not to make this imaginative but real to how it felt.

P.S. While looking for a video from youtube I found very slanted videos on witchcraft from Kenya. I think there's a wide consensus from people that they don't think that practice exists in the world anymore. I hate to say it, but it's everywhere.

1 Corinthians 12:2-3
You know that when you were pagans, somehow or other you were influenced and led astray to mute idols. Therefore I tell you that no one who is speaking by the Spirit of God says, "Jesus be cursed," and no one can say, "Jesus is Lord," except by the Holy Spirit.

Two Churches: One Day

2008-08-09T23:57:00.000-07:00

Covering Sunday June 15th, 2008

Ephesians 5:24-26

Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word.

We had to be up early in the morning so that we could attend two churches and have lunch with Sevo's sister. It was Father's day.

The more I was on this trip the more spiritual it was becoming. I had no idea it was Father's day till later that day. While at our first church, I sincerely felt like I was at home. Their songs were in English and Swahili, and by this time I was able to read and pronounce Swahili even though I didn't know the meaning. I had picked up on words like jambo and habari, both meaning hello, Mungu was God, Yesu was Jesus which was similar to Latin's Jesu, rafiki was friend, simba was lion, penda means love, mtoto means child, and mzungu means white person.

I was extremely touched by the sermon and felt for the first time of this trip a taste of home sickness. It was evident to me that God was talking to me on this day and it is way too personal for me to go into those details. I found the worship to be powerful. I had no idea how many people were there but it seemed like a ton. It was more traditional than the one we would be visiting later in the morning. I don't think there were any other white people than us. By this time though we had met up with two psychology professors from Evangel. We had a way of meeting people from Springfield, Missouri while we were in Kenya.

One of the professors was asked to do a sermon: his words were an antidote for me. He talked about how in life we often will tell ourselves we our failures and we will replay those awful situations in our mind thousands of times. He mentioned that when he worked with people who had just been raped or in a car wreck one of the first things he would do is to get them to see they are not a failure. I had been doing just this. I kept trying to figure out what I could have done better that day, and it was nauseating to me. From then I stopped looking at that situation with that mindset, even though I still have fear when it comes to cars.

What really hit me is that he preached on Psalm 51. I've been struggling with trust for the past year and to know that God will forgive me and that I must forgive myself was powerful. Everything was there that day and I felt healing. When I came back home, the first church service I went to was on Psalm 51-- I would say it was much more powerful in Africa. I could tell God was not going to let me change my new ways when I got home.

Our next service, was for a much younger crowd. This service also had a large impression on me. They sang some songs that I haven't heard in ages but the words did come back. They had a long worship service followed by a strong message on stepping outside your comfort zone to do missionary work. There was a group that had just recently gone to Tanzania, and one of the people's comments was "Who knows where God will call us next, maybe Afghanistan." I think in America we often only hear terrorism in association with America and not as a global situation.

But the most powerful story of all was about a woman slightly older than myself. She had studied hard in Kenya so that she could go to medical school and she ended up being accepted in a school in the UK. However, she also was diagnosed with cancer. She went everywhere looking for medical treatment, she went through various painful procedures, her head was shaved, and her dreams of going to medical school were shattered. She believed she had a promise from God that she would over come this, that it wasn't her end. She didn't know how she was getting through all the pains of this disease and the treatments were equally terrible but she believed firmly that God would prevail. This story was told for nearly thirty minutes about her triumphant victory over cancer and how God was what enabled her to conquer it. At the end, she was actually introduced to everybody and we gave her a standing ovation. She told us about all that she had gone through, and just within her voice you could hear how much she believed and how much God had poured into her. It was a miracle that we got to hear this courageous woman because it was a huge testimony to God.

Our group was then called to be introduced, partly to go with their message of doing missions and also because we were visitors and Kenyans love to welcome people to their country. I never got tired of how each one of us would be introduced and they would cheer us on without knowing us.

We were then rushed to Sevo's oldest sister's house. Sevo has 10 siblings. Several people on our team were ill and were unable to enjoy their selves. I was putting on hygiene precautions like my brother to prevent myself from getting sick. I had no doubt that I would stay healthy, but I was doing what I could to stay healthy-- which is why I didn't actually journal while I was in Kenya so that I could get the most from sleep. I played with Neru, one of Sevo and Kristina's nieces. She was a little more shy than some of the other children; she was playful nonetheless. There were lots of toys there, similar to a Fisher Price kitchen set. A few of us went on a walk around the place to get an idea of the location.

This was one of my favorite meals during the whole trip. There were sweet potatoes, passion fruit, bananas, cabbage, meat, yams, rice, chapatis, mango juice, orange juice-- did I ever mention that African juices and sodas are vastly greater than American ones? It was like Thanksgiving. Everything was delicious, and by the time I went back for seconds-- there was still plenty! They always seemed to know how to make enough food. His sister told us a great deal about praying and how we have to trust God and keep hoping that the ones we love who haven't found Christ will find him and know him.

After lunch we were given some free time-- which was used for napping. The extra couple of hours before going to Carnivore paid off immensely. Carnivore was a five star restaurant in Kenya that lived up to it's name.

This was a dining experience unlike any other that I have had. We were given all kinds of meats: pork, beef, chicken, turkey, lamb, ostrich, and crocodile. It was so much meat that it felt uncomfortable in my colon. I found the ostrich to be rather peculiar. I didn't like it-- however it was better when they served it as meatballs-- it was meatballs. Crocodile was interesting, I liked it. It was very dry yet there was plenty of salt. We were also given a plethora of sides such as salads, rice, fruit, vegetables, beans, and sauces. It was overwhelming how much food was served. I think I had pineapple juice. I wanted to try a different juice each time-- never try minty pineade. We had plenty of waiters who would come by with a giant SWORD

where the certain meat was on and they would slice you a piece for your blazing plate-- it was cool to hear the food sizzle (maybe I needed more sleep). There was so much food and they would keep asking you if you wanted more. My stomach has never been so full. There were also cats that were mysteriously walking around the restaurant. Has anyone ever been to the Crescent Hotel in Eureka Springs? They have a cat that walks around just like that.

We ended up giving the professors a fake birthday. It was also Tim's real birthday. They brought out their drums and sang a whole song with a cake that looked like it had a firework lit on it. It was amazing.

Romans 14:19-21
Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification. Do not destroy the work of God for the sake of food. All food is clean, but it is wrong for a man to eat anything that causes someone else to stumble. It is better not to eat meat or drink wine or to do anything else that will cause your brother to fall.

What a Beautiful World

2008-08-04T23:05:00.000-07:00

Covering Saturday July 14th, 2008.

Matthew 19:28-30

Jesus said to them, "I tell you the truth, at the renewal of all things, when the Son of Man sits on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.

Have you wondered how we did our laundry? I actually tried to recreate some memories from Disney World. We didn't have enough money to use the machines; plus it was a hassle to carry all those clothes down the stairs and into another building. So, we hand washed our clothes in the bath tub-- threw them in and poured some detergent into the tub. I'm sure this was great on the plumbing. Jenni and I refused to pay for our laundry when there was space for laundry units in our apartments and Disney could have more than provided for such a thing. It was only a problem when things were ridiculously dirty-- you can't clean that with our system! In Africa, I had brought enough shirts to last me the whole trip and I've learned over the years the wonders of layering. Jeans, on the other hand, are another story. I only tried washing them once in the shower one night in Nairobi and it was to my failure.

On Saturday, everyone, except for me, brought their laundry together and we walked to Java House and to a laundry mat nearby. For whatever reason, this place wasn't going to be able to finish our order by the time we needed to go to Butula. I thought it was a little fishy. So, we took a walk through Nairobi to their affiliate. April and Nduko were trying to save a parking space by standing in it. I can't remember what the guys were doing, but as for the girls and Andrew we were walking through the streets of Nairobi with the laundry. I was happy I didn't add mine because there was enough to carry without it. Plus, the real reason is because I would rather spend the money on other things when I have plenty of clean clothes still packed, and it's not like we were going around sniffing each other-- or maybe some people were and I didn't know it.

It was a lovely day, and it was nice just to walk instead of be shoved into a van and be on the go and arrive somewhere somewhat surprised. It seemed like it took forever for our laundry order to get through. All I know is they weren't too happy about taking so many clothes. I ended up walking around the place a little and taking pictures of flowers, however I must reiterate that I never wandered away from the group because that's not a smart thing to do on these trips so don't do that, please.
We then headed back to the Java House. April and Nduko had lost the parking space. Someone was willing to drive over them and actually touched one of them with their car. Brent was not too happy about this and I wouldn't be surprised if he took some sort of action on that situation. I will admit I've never saved a parking space that way. Everyone was at the Java House, minus Nicole and Josh who were sick. There was also still many from the Journey. I was impressed by how much time they were giving to us, especially since some of them were busy with school. That meant so much to our team. Everyone was getting tired again; it had been a long week.

We were on our way to another orphanage. This one was for children. Most people slept on the ride, but I knew that would have been a mistake. I knew that if I were to fall asleep I would be fighting it all day. So, I played a game with Eric that was supposed to be a simple personality test. It turned into an epic saga that kept a few people up and some even asked, "What are you guys talking about?" It was something about a carpenter in South Africa who had a white horse and a monkey with a big house with lots of doors that didn't necessarily lead to rooms with a giant third eyed purple monster outside. Has anyone played the game "Imagine a box, what does the box look like?" If you have then maybe you'll be amazed at how this game took an unbelievable turn into the creative realm. We also played "I Spy" for a good long time. I'm sure people that were trying to sleep were furious with me.

It took us a long time to finally reach the orphanage. Once there, we went over the songs we wanted to do with the kids. We also practiced our skit outside, partly because Josh had previously been in it as a big part of the scene so Justin ended up replacing him. Just like in Mathare, children were sneaking around trying to see what we were doing. Before having an assembly with the children and teaching them about Christ, we took a tour of the place. I had never been to an orphanage before going to Africa. I have no idea where the closest one is to me in Arkansas.

It was an amazing place touched by God. It was like a sanctuary where kids could have a family and be with other children who were going through all the same things. If I'm not mistaken, this was their school as well. They had a room sectioned off so that if someone was sick they could have a place. There was one room that they were proud that had never been used because it was intended for extreme cases of illness.

We first went into the girls bedroom which was lined up with bunk beds, but only one whole bed was used by each girl. They had their own mosquito net-- and what was sweet was on each bed there was a doll that had been donated by the organization. For anyone who was the child that played with dolls in their massive imagination and knows how much meaning there is in that, you'll understand why I find it touching that they made sure each girl had a doll. One of our team members commented on how awesome it was that they provided white sheets for the children and the psychology behind that. The boys room was similar except instead of dolls they had posters of their favorite football players. Also, in each of the children's rooms was a detailed schedule about everything the children were supposed to do from about 5 in the morning till 8 at night. It was scratched out, but the original schedule started at 4AM.

There was also a room for books, a sewing room where they made quilts, and also a kitchen. That's what I remember, at least. After exploring the orphanage and hearing all about the children's lives-- from how they were not allowed to have money because then the kids competed with each other or how they took care of the animals which were chickens, pigs, and a cow-- we went to the auditorium for another assembly during our trip. The principal first introduced us as guests and how we were from Missouri-- mazuri in Swahili means good, funny coincidence. It was like they were saying "Here's our guests from good." Each one of us had a short introduction. Then some of the older children of this orphanage sang to us A Capella.

They sang "Open the Eyes of my Heart" and "I believe." It was both wonderful and intimidating-- at least to me. The songs we had prepared for them were for a much younger audience so some of us were worried that they were going to think it was lame. Maybe they did; I was thinking they did when we sang. I was proven wrong when I went back through my tapes and saw what actually happened.

April and I led the songs and Isaac, Nduko, and Andrew helped us with a couple of the songs. We sang songs like "If You're Happy and You Know it", "Down in my Heart", "Father Abraham", and the "Hokey Pokey." On my tape, this lasted nearly 30 minutes. The kids appeared to have thoroughly enjoyed it-- especially when they got to stand up and shout in Praise ye the Lord, Hallelujah.

After that, we did our skit. Justin went through various life challenges that ended up making him sad. First his football was stolen, then some kids pushed him down, and then they made fun of him and laughed at him. At the end, he runs into Jordan who teaches him about Christ and encourages him to be happy because through God we can overcome our challenges. Jordan did a great job of explaining the story to the children after it was done. We then handed out candy to the children like we did in Mathare Valley.

We then played with them outside. The boys played football; the girls played games similar to those in Mathare Valley. Andrew and I stood between these two groups and filmed. It was the first time that I saw Africa with a gray sky. I felt like I was in Kansas. The grass had turned a dried yellow and it was overgrown. There was not as much dust as in Mathare; the dirt was more solid. There were clouds in the sky making it less colorful and there was a nice breeze, not the fierce wind like at home. It smelt like it was going to rain. Generally, I did all I could to interact with the children. On this day, I stood back and watched them. They were shy compared to the kids at Mathare-- there was also less of them.

Andrew and I talked about various things in life and where we felt we were headed. The stay at this orphanage felt short. We had to leave quickly so we could move to our next activity.

Students from the Journey opened up their homes so that we could meet their families and eat dinner with them. Our team was then split into three or four groups. I ended up going with Lance and Justin to Andrew's home. Isaac-- also from the Journey-- came with us as well. Sevo made the point to me that I was not allowed to wander away from the group and that we had to be back by eight. I'm not entirely sure why Sevo kept making the point to me that I was not to wander. It took a long time for us to make it to Andrew's house. I still thought it was going to rain.

I've been dreading to right this post. This day was exceptional, and to go into the details of why it meant so much to me is not easy at all. I know deep down I really should give each day that I'm writing about the same honesty. There have been details that I have cut simply because I don't think people would see how it fits with the trip as a whole. There's been times where I've had lengthy tangents to help me face some of what I happened in Africa. No matter how I look at it this it will always be one of the most surreal experiences of my life. It's easy to look at Africa and cut myself away from it; it's easy to talk about horrible things that have happened in this world or even great things but when you add yourself to the mix it becomes a whole lot more personal. I think at the heart of it I want more time, but I don't have plenty of time anymore because school is in less than two weeks and I need this finished because I won't be able to do this once I'm back at school.

I just can't believe I went to Africa or that I experienced all of this. I feel like when I was in Africa I was honest with myself but now I'm masking my emotions in several of these chapters. I know there's opportunities where I could have gone into great length on something like when I was at the orphanage holding the baby or when I was walking in the streets of Mathare. When people ask me about Africa, I don't know what to say. For days I've been hiding from friends because every time someone asks me about Kenya it's like a flood of memories takes over my mind. I never know where to begin and there's fear in that what I'll say won't hit home for them because I know many of the people who supported me on this trip were curious about Christ; they were curious as to whether this whole religion is true.

The main reason why I'm writing this down is so that people can have a lengthy read on an experience with Christ. Even though I was there for a short time, I know I felt the hand of God. Now that I am home, I am afraid because I don't know what God's calling me to do, I know it was real. A part of me wants to deny that; that part of me wants to believe this is all imaginary. I honestly don't want face the reality that God has great sadness because of us.

I think when fear starts taking place I know that I'm beginning to step in the right direction because my comfort zone shatters. This brings out courage from me whether or not anyone else can understand that. Kenya took every part of me. I surrendered myself to God; somehow I even came to knowing that I was willing to die. God used every part of me while I was in Kenya, and not just the good but the parts that I need to extinguish from myself; for instance, I've already begun to stop arguing and I hope to stay with that commitment.

Even what I'm doing now is fighting. I'm not going backwards here, but I am standing still. At first when I was in Kenya my life was in the hands of God as a servant for his people and then at some point God was changing me and revealing myself to me. I'm not sure when that happened-- maybe on this day. It seems that talking about my emotions is much harder than talking about the experiences around me. I wish I could have stayed in Kenya longer. I want to go back, preferably now. There were things I longed for that were at home, like my family. There were things that were simple that were given up like warm showers, my own schedule, and-- at one point-- my privacy. I enjoy having my own room, and yes I had that in Nairobi, but I found it hard to charge my batteries when we left for Butula.

What's so bewildering is that even though the same strange problems may still be prevalent in my life is that I seem to be completely content with those struggles. I worry too much about the future, but as for what's happened over the course of two years I seem to have handed a great chunk of it to Christ while I was in Kenya. At the same time, this bothers me. I feel like I'm lying to myself and not actually facing reality but I know deep down that whether those things still exist they're not with me any longer. Worrying does nothing for me. I realized that I am quite the optimist and that for some people this has given them the sense that I am naive; I hope to continue living life this way. I do want to stop being pretentious; I have no idea how that started but I can't live like that anymore.

The trip to Andrew's house was long. His mom greeted each of us at the door as if she had been expecting us for a long time. The entire time we were there she smiled. As soon as we were inside I acquainted myself with Andrew's niece. She was five but I would have guessed she was a lot older because she was definitely smart for her age. In fact, she was working on her homework when we arrived. Andrew's mom had cooked us a large dinner. All of his family was there, including his great-grandma. I was impressed, especially since my family is spread across America.

After dinner, Andrew wanted us to meet one of his friends that lived nearby. Grace, his niece, was told that she couldn't go. Actually, minutes before they even told her that she couldn't go she whispered to me, "Don't worry, I'll go." I had no idea what she meant. I just took that as something typical a five year old would say; I went along with it. Just as we were going out the door she cried hysterically and then she was allowed to go. I wanted to tell her that I was proud of her because that was spectacular; it kind of reminded me of myself when I was a child. This was another of several children that on some strange level we both understood each other. Everybody loved her; it would be weird not to love her. I love my team, but it was special to walk around Nairobi with a smaller group. I honestly can't describe the area well. It was city like but not with tall buildings like around the Ufungamano House.

Grace wore flip-flops, I think intentionally. She held my hand and Andrew's. It took us awhile to reach Andrew's friend's house. I expected that considering the amount of walking that took place in Kenya. It wasn't like anywhere I've lived when I say someone is close. We had to go up a stairwell, which for Grace was like climbing a mountain. She apparently was afraid of heights.

Unfortunately, Andrew's friend wasn't home. Maybe Andrew set us up. Although, his friend's father was at home, and he told us many things in the short time we had together. This was one of the few instances where what he said influenced me in a profound way that I can't explain. It was like deep inside I could feel his words. He told us many things about Kenya and about the recent riots that took place in the December elections. It was evident that he was a man of God. I wish we could have spent more time with him because everything he said was so powerful and it was like I was on the verge of Heaven. It was amazing and captivating. I sat in the middle of all these men with Grace sitting on my lap. He prayed over us and it was like everything that was making me the least bit sick or the least bit sinful was being washed away. That's the best way I can explain it-- again words fail me. I wasn't the only one who felt this way. His prayer could be felt and both Justin and Lance said the same thing when we headed back for the YMCA. As well, Grace tried to hide under my hair and was trying to distract herself with my bracelet which she suddenly had noticed-- the same bracelet I had bought earlier with the rainbow beads.

That was by far one of the most powerful prayers I have heard yet to date. It was unbelievable, and what was funny was that the man apologized over and over that he had talked so much when he had been so excited for us to be there. We of course told him he didn't need to apologize at all. He told us that when we come back next time it will be different-- next time?

Will I be going back to Kenya again? That would be a miracle in itself. If I see this man again that's even more amazing, and if with the same people, I would be shocked. I would love for that to happen-- all of it. It would be unbelievable if he was right; I really wish he was. But what's important is that I started asking myself if I would be going to Kenya again. Before heading there I thought it was going to be a one time life changing trip; I never expected that the opportunity would be there again or that God would call me there. I don't know. I feel like I won't be going on the next trip that Chi Alpha will be taking to Kenya. I need to pray more about this; I've definitely been distancing myself from God since being home or maybe it's just when I'm in America I feel like I'm living my life too comfortably. When I'm away from home I tend to think differently. I don't see in my heart that I'll be going next year, but maybe the next.

We had to trek back to Andrew's home and this time Grace was carried by Justin since she was a little slow with the flip-flops. We had a few minutes to spare before having to head back to Ufungamano. Andrew's Mother prayed for us and blessed us as well.

Grace took some rather entertaining pictures and I left my bracelet with her.

During the ride home, it began to rain. There was a football game so the traffic was heavy.

We all talked on the ride home about how this night may have been one of our favorites for a variety of reasons. We also talked about how we wanted to help out with Chi Alpha and change it as a ministry.

We were the first to arrive at the YMCA. We planned to see Josh and Nicole, but we found a note on their door that said they had gone to Java House for dinner. We then grabbed a couple of guitars and planned to have a little bit of worship but the rest of the team was arriving and Andrew and Isaac had to leave us.

That night we discussed as a team how everyone had been feeling about the trip so far. I think the group consensus was that it had been overwhelming-- to say the least.

Hebrews 6:7
Land that drinks in the rain often falling on it and that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is farmed receives the blessing of God.

Friday Night

2008-08-03T21:02:00.000-07:00

Continuing Friday13th, 2008

Psalm 146:2
I will praise the LORD all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.

Surprisingly, that's my favorite music video from Kenya. I love the 90s. And like I've said before, driving in Kenya is exciting but scary. After we left the clinic, most of us packed into one one of our worst Matatu experiences. Later, we were told how silly we were for complaining. Apparently, we had been blessed with good drivers. This one however, reminded me of some of the worst teenagers that drove me around Springdale, AR; I vaguely remember one person driving over 65 in a residential area. Our driver went way too fast on a narrow hilly road, got stuck on a curb, and his vehicle died in the middle of the road. It was less roomy than our other vans because this one was overdoing the flare theming. There was at least a TV to distract myself which played some African music videos and Mr. Bean. I never knew that Mr. Bean was such an influence in the world. Several times throughout the trip I caught people watching that show. In fact there was one woman who was hysterical over him.

Anyway, this was not good for me considering my recent car wreck. I was trying to be strong about it, but after thirty minutes I ended up trying to hide that I was crying. If anyone noticed they didn't comment on it, and later I said something to April about it and she hadn't noticed-- she normally catches everything I do. I don't think I was the only one who felt this ride was too much. It might have affected other people's stomachs or nerves just as much as it perturbed me. Mr. Bean wasn't of much help either.

By the time we got to the Ufungamano house I was light headed. I went back to my room and had a short 20 minute break before heading to the Journey's Friday worship. Our team had been anticipating their service all week since we had heard so much about it. The organization is new and they've been growing at an alarming rate. It was cool that we got to experience a campus ministry that was on a completely different continent.

Before going to the service Eric and I looked to see if we could find a verse that might go with Everlasting Father 13:21. So, we went through every book until we got to Hebrews when we found: 20"May the God of peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, 21equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen."

I would say that was a pretty close match. Just for your information the word "ever" in the New International Version appears in 1,386 verses. Love appears in 697 verses, Money in 114, God in 3,930, Jesus in 1,276, Satan in 47, Heaven in 606, Hell in 14, Angel in 291, Devil in 35, Demon in 80, Man in 2,723, earth in 733, life in 589 verses, death in 452 verses, and Christ in 531. Now, just because certain words are used more doesn't mean they are anymore important because I imagine the word that appears the most is something like "a" or "the." But I find this all to be interesting.

When Eric and I walked into the auditorium my team was already sitting together. There weren't any seats left so Eric and I sat in front of everybody. April was directly behind me-- that's the most I can tell you. Andrew and Florence from my small group earlier in the week were singing in the Journey band which had a couple more singers and a guitarist, bass, and drummer. Some of the songs were in English while others were in Swahili-- or they were a mix of the two. In a couple of the songs everyone danced; it was like taebo. Their worship service's message was about money. They had a short video introduction asking people if money was everything. I actually ended up being interviewed and I of course said it isn't everything and that plenty of people have proved that you can live a life contently without it. It was weird seeing my face on the screen. It was weird being a spoiled American college student hearing a lesson on money in an African campus ministry. I hadn't seen near as much poverty as people around me. Some of the people in this ministry may have had more money growing up than I did, but of course it was worlds of different. I didn't know what was around me. It was hard to know what to feel. I had no perspective on where I stood, except that the country that I'm from is one of the richest in the world. Granted, we still have poverty but we don't have near the inflation Kenya is dealing with and from what I've seen our government is not near as corrupt.

I think what was hard is I basically haven't had money in my hand or a bank since I've started college. I've stretched myself thin looking for pocket change, odd jobs, scholarships, and begging family. It hasn't been easy, and I have not had any school debt yet but there's still two years to go. I don't want debt with the way the world is looking. I have a bad feeling about world politics and maybe that's just because I'm in school and world issues are thrown at students all the time-- but I think it's more than that.

Sevo did a sermon on money and the changes he went through in trusting God. Sevo basically gave a short version of what it was like to leave Kenya to go to the United States for school. After the service, the visitors were asked to follow some members of the Journey to be officially greeted-- the words they used were much more casual. They took our whole team, plus a couple of other visitors, upstairs to a conference room. They gave us free sodas and we played a couple of games. The most memorable part for me was when we were introduced to Immanuel. As soon as he began speaking I could see that in every person from the Journey that they had sparkles in their eyes. All of them were smiling as well, so I could tell he had a huge heart and that people loved him. He said he felt that he had to share something with us that had happened to him recently. I can't remember the story word for word but it went something along the following lines.

He was going to school and feeling proud. As he was traveling on one of the Matatus he ran into an old man. He said he was a strange old man that at first carried a creepy vibe with him. The old man kept laughing. He asked Immanuel where he was headed and he politely said school. The old man laughed and it made Immanuel feel uncomfortable, like he was the joke of something. Somehow the old man got onto the subject of religion and asked Immanuel if he was a Christian. Immanuel of course said he was. The old man asked him what that meant. Immanuel told him it meant that he believed that Christ was our savior and that by his grace we were saved because he died for us and took our sins away and that God had created all the earth and heavens. Immanuel felt he had given a great answer, but the old man laughed again. The old man asked him to try again. Immanuel was getting frustrated, but he still tried. This time he said something like it's about a close relationship with Christ and learning how to love one another because of what he did for us. The old man laughed again, and Immanuel was beginning to get annoyed-- what right did this man have to laugh like this?

Then the old man said what he thought Christianity was. It was like being a baby who is constantly crying out but has no sense of what's happening to him. The baby cries and cries for what he wants thinking it won't be given to him. Yet, God holds us in his arms and rocks us gently to comfort us and makes all the bad things go away. And the entire time he's whispering to us "I love you."

I know I didn't tell that near as beautifully as when Immanuel told us. That was the first time I had met Immanuel, and maybe it will be the last. But I'll always remember him for his humble spirit that instantly grabbed a whole room's attention.

After finally experiencing the Journey's large worship, Brent took us to another Indian restaurant. There were a lot of people that were sick by this time, at least a third of our group. Nicole and Josh were by far the most sick; they ended up having to stay at the YMCA instead of doing the activities planned for Saturday. Anyway, at the restaurant I had the best tangerine juice. Someone put it quite justly when they said, "When you have pulp running down your face and you don't care you know it's good juice." We had potatoes that were like fries but very flat and spicy. Our orders were a little messed up because somehow most of us got extreme spicy chicken. We talked about what we witnessed at the Journey, and most people were talking about how excited they were that Andrew had rapped. Also, at this point, several people were having nightmares. In fact, about four or five people in our group of fourteen had nightmares that night. There is a possibility that this has to do with the malaria medicine being taken.

I didn't know this until I came home. At my cousin's wedding I was talking to his sister about Africa. She was incredibly excited because she would be going to Swaziland in a few weeks. She was telling me about when she was getting her malaria pills that they were trying to give her Doxycycline, but she refused it. Apparently, it gives you hallucinatory dreams. This drug might also explain why I had the clearest skin I've ever had in my life. Although, I wasn't having any dreams while I was in Nairobi, which was really strange for me, I did start to have wild dreams when we were in Butula; all kinds of strange things were happening and to be honest I'm not sure what was real and what wasn't. But that will just have to wait.

I never had malaria, that's for sure. However, several people on the trip may have and they were on the same prescription. I thank God and all the people who were praying for me. At some points, even though this may sound unbelievable, it was like I knew someone was praying for me and that through their prayers I was all the more protected. Of course, everyone had people praying for them; God knows what is best for each person's experience. For the most part, I was healthy through the whole trip except for being exhausted and occasionally hungry.

By the way, before there was Simba there was:

Joel 2:28-29
And afterward I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions. Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days.

AIDS Epedimic

2008-08-02T14:06:00.000-07:00

Covering June 13th, 2008

Isaiah 17:10-12

You have forgotten God your Savior; you have not remembered the Rock, your fortress. Therefore, though you set out the finest plants and plant imported vines, though on the day you set them out, you make them grow, and on the morning when you plant them, you bring them to bud, yet the harvest will be as nothing in the day of disease and incurable pain. Oh, the raging of many nations— they rage like the raging sea! Oh, the uproar of the peoples— they roar like the roaring of great waters!

I'm worn out. Keeping track of all of this is wearing thin on me. On Friday, we went to an AIDS clinic to meet with HIV+ victims and to learn more about AIDS. To be honest, there wasn't too much new material for us considering in America we have a lot of education on AIDS in school, however we weren't too pretentious to say we knew everything otherwise we would have a cure. Granted, there are some pieces to how you get AIDS that are not being near as discussed as it was eight years ago. In Africa, they were a little more blunt about things. The statistics are showing that the number of people being infected is decreasing due to being educated about the disease but there are many people who are still not facing the disease as a reality and many are not getting medical attention. Many believe that it is just a rumor and that AIDS doesn't really exist.

Poverty has a big part in the disease. People that are in poverty are being abused, not just in Africa but all around the world. When you're in poverty you have tough decisions to make in order to keep food on the table. It's not surprising that many people have to end up selling their self for a loaf of bread, and yes more women are exploited from this disease than men, both because of status and the female body is more likely to contract the disease.

Also, a pregnant mother carrying the disease will most likely pass to the child; I believe there is a way from preventing this. Women then are left in the streets with their baby and must defend both lives for herself. Some women end up having to give up the child-- for whatever reason. Not to mention, that rape, child molestation, and incest happen more frequently in areas where people are uneducated. This problem is happening everywhere in the world and not just Africa. In some Native American reservations, sex is a large part of social status so incest is extremely common which causes a plethora of physical and mental problems. Education on sex is important, without it people tend to make up their own rules and the door to disease is opened to a greater extent, and it becomes harder to close.

Unfortunately, people in poverty are at a greater risk of coming in contact with this disease and it is much harder to afford or to obtain the medical attention needed to fight HIV so that it does not become AIDS. There is not a cure for it at this point, but there are drugs that can help a person live and stay HIV+ for a number of years instead of going straight into AIDS. A person can live a long time just as HIV+ if they have the appropriate medical attention. By getting involved with more HIV it will infect the person more and decrease the time between having HIV and AIDS.

In America AIDS is spread mainly from the age group of 16-25. We are taught about AIDS and other STDs, however many people just don't think it will happen to them. They continue to have sex with various people, without even knowing the history of their partners, and suddenly they have an STD. One of the most dangerous pools to be in is the homosexual crowd. You must understand that there's a few reasons for that; the big reason is: there are still high levels of promiscuity that are being reported in this community. I'm not going to go into this particular subject anymore here.

I generally hear more and more ridiculous things about sex and how to prevent getting STDs and how to prevent being pregnant. First off, the pill is not 100% bullet proof. It can also cause strange problems in the female body, but that's understandable considering what it does. I would say it is one of the better products in preventing pregnancy but depending on the brand you can seriously put your menstrual cycle in jeopardy-- and more reports are coming out about female contraception devices that insight gender bending. The pill is much more widely debated than I had previously thought. Not until recently I learned that several churches frown upon the pill. As for condoms, last I heard they're only 80% safe and definitely not a shield against STDs. 80% is not that high and anyone who knows a little about statistics would find that 20% is a huge opportunity for something you may not have planned on having. As for any of the other medical products you can use, I believe they are significantly less protective and that's why we don't hear about them as often-- unless maybe they are extremely expensive.

Many teenagers have sex early because it is their "first love" and they don't expect that they will break up; they also are curious about sex because there is so much hype about sex in every medium. Plus, there is a ton of pressure to have sex from peers, especially boys. In my high school, the more nerdy, educated students were less likely to have sex. However, today's nerd is not what it used to be. There were still plenty of people in my AP classes that I knew were doing pretty crazy things; there was one who was already going to strip clubs-- he must have had an incredible fake ID. Actually, there were a few students who did that. There was one girl who told me she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up, and she meant it. Where do freshmen in high school come up with this stuff? It just seems sad to me to be so young and be exploited by sex when you could be beginning to blossom with your talents. None of these students were stupid, but they thought they were above the law or the disease, or they were bored and were looking for some entertainment. I don't think they really saw that it could happen to them or their bodies. In middle school, there were girls who were pregnant-- these were sixth and seventh graders.

Teenagers are just reckless. They mature from being children-- who we hope are filled with innocence-- to being responsible adults. The transition isn't made easy. Many teenagers and even twenty years olds have not grasped that they are mortal and that death is at every corner so they do irresponsible things because they perceive that they are invincible.

It doesn't matter how many slideshows there are on STDs or drugs; they think they can say no later. Which is one of the biggest problems with being human. We think we have plenty of time when we only have a few precious amount of minutes. If we see later as now then we will say no to more things because we are approaching the bigger picture.

The first thing teenagers need to learn is that they are of value and the more that they see their self as fragile value they are more likely to care for their self. As well, they need to have friends, but also be independent of them so that they don't fall to peer pressure. They need things to do to keep them preoccupied from all the stupid things they could be doing, also it is better to keep them from being bored. They should be allowed to make their own decisions otherwise they may become defiant and do as they please and experiment rather than take advice. They need to be encouraged more than discouraged, but their head doesn't need to inflate to a drastic size. They need constructive criticism that is sensitive and not a personal attack. They need privacy, and they need facts. They need your trust so they don't have to experiment their selves.

In some cases AIDS is a choice. If you know all the facts and you have the choice of whether or not you want sex then you are actively making the decision whether or not you want to risk having the disease. AIDS isn't the only sexually transmitted disease either. But why risk having this disease to begin with? It should be one of the easiest ones to avoid. Unlike certain cancers and diabetes, AIDS should be much easier to extinguish from this world. And as for diabetes, there's some compounding factors there as well that are similar to the ones shaping AIDS. Part of it is a compulsive addictive behavior and part of it is depression or seeing one's self of less value and not caring. But diabetes can be hereditary. If we care more, we will do less harm to ourselves. Health is optimum and is not near as addressed as it should be.

It would be better to never have to fight the disease at all.

While we were at the HIV clinic, what was astounding were the people that were willing to share their testimony with us. Most people with HIV are shunned from their community; it is similar to leprosy in the Bible. Families will disown you and people will flat out not want to touch you. Somehow everyone will know that you have the disease. Children at school won't play with you because they know you have the disease. Considering the severity of HIV, losing this kind of support can be detrimental.

In our session, we broke into smaller groups so we could talk with some of the HIV patients. In my group, there was a woman named Mary and also a woman with her baby. Mary was strong on the issue; it was almost like HIV made her care more about people and that she was trying to wake up her neighbors. Both of these women were facing poverty and came into one of the myriad of situations that cause it. They gave us some more insight on the disease and told us about how they were living in spite of it. At the end, our groups rejoined to discuss what we had learned from each other.For a demonstration, they showed that by widening the amount of education we could build a wider bridge to cross in preventing ourselves from HIV. At the end, we handed various foods to the HIV victims. I believe that in every bag there was ugali which is a staple starch component that can be used several times. It is generally made from maize flour (or ground maize) and water, and varies in consistency from porridge to a dough-like substance. When ugali is made from another starch, it is usually given a specific regional name. Ugali, even though I got in trouble for calling it this, reminded me of playgdough but it was a lot better tasting-- I had to make edible playdough in elementary school.

Mary, from our group, was happy to tell her story to us and the team. She asked those that she shared her story with to always remember her.

We then headed for an HIV testing clinic. The traffic was exceedingly heavy at this point. I can't remember how long it took us to get there. Most people were sleeping on the Matatu. I was sitting up front with Eric and we were making jokes and I was somewhat tired-- this trip was taking my energy away at every second. It was a lot of stop and go traffic, so I had the pleasure of seeing more vendors come to our bus to try and sell us various items. I still found the world maps that they were trying to sell pretty humorous.

Jenny made a brilliant comment about the maps and how it was like they were trying to help you find where you were in the world because you may be lost in traffic. There were also people trying to sell watches, exercise equipment, oranges, batteries, animal statues, and DVDs. On Eric's cellphone it randomly flashed "Everlasting Father." Which wasn't all that unusual except with the time and company it read something like "Safaricom 13:21 Everlasting Father." I said that sounded peculiarly like a Bible verse. And for some reason that was funny and quoted throughout the rest of the trip. Later, we would try to look it up to see if we could find any matches. (By looking up, I mean looking at the 13th chapter of every book in the Bible and see if in verse 21 it mentions "everlasting.")

During the entirely too long road trip to the other half of our HIV lesson, I took a picture of one of the Matatu's we rode in throughout the week. Unlike our vehicles in America, their's had lots of exciting flare, like this Condoleezza Rice van. They were heavily decorated. There was one Matatu that was covered in alien propaganda messages with crazy paint and flashing lights. Also, our worst Matatu experience was in one that was covered in Ohio State flare. I found this all to be entertaining-- maybe they were trying to make traffic a more enjoyable experience.

We finally arrived at the clinic, and we were served a hearty meal-- meat, rice, cabbage, and chapatis. Chapatis were flat unleavened bread, and were more delicious each time I had it. After lunch they began taking volunteers for the HIV test. If you had wanted to you could see what it's like to go through the HIV test which is a series of questions and a finger pricking to sample your blood. I didn't feel comfortable about this for a variety of reasons so I opted out. We were at the clinic for a long time getting tests done. A few of us played Frisbee while we waited. For whatever reason, playing Frisbee in Africa was just too surreal. It was like that day was a blurred dream. In fact, it is hard to go through this trip and realize that I was there and I did do all of these things.

That, and in each of these posts I've only told a fragment of all that happened while I was there and all the thoughts I had. I could write about this for centuries and still never finish the volume of things that happened while I was there. And that's amazing considering it was a little more than two weeks of my life, but those days were pivotal to my life and I've only just begun to see how.

And now, before I move to the next part of this unbelievable trip I would like you to take a moment to think about those that are suffering from HIV and AIDS throughout the world and to look at some of the faces who are struggling with this terrible disease. Please take a moment to think about them, their families, and what it would be like to be in their shoes. I also ask that you pray for them continually.

Matthew 25:44

I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.' "They also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?' "He will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.'"

The Other Side of Mathare

2008-07-31T15:31:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-31T14:39:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-29T23:01:00.000-07:00

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

2008-07-28T21:54:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-07-27T16:19:00.000-07:00

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.'

A brink in the posts

2008-07-27T00:09:00.000-07:00

Romans 11:33
Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!

It's been several days since I've written. The surrealism of Africa has hit me. It's hard for me to believe that I really went, that I saw those countless faces, and that I stood on a cliff above a safari. My mind is filled with all these realizations, and there's such an uncertainty in me to know if I can be a helping hand. I've been straying from writing; whether it is writer's block or shock I don't know. The chains of poverty run thick, and to know to point the finger at myself and humanity is haunting. We put people in poverty, and we make slaves of people in the sickest of ways. We run machines through the naive, we strap ourselves to technology, and we obey what we hear from the media. How can I live my life like a normal person when I can't help but look at my wrist and wonder what did someone do to make this bracelet?

In our country, I think we are becoming more and more of a dystopia. One of the biggest industries in the world is porn. Sure, it's hard to know where porn begins and where it stops and where art can take form. And yes pornography has been one of the longest and most successful industries since the beginning of time. As well, to have the government ban all forms of nudity is just as imposing as the current situation.

As I grow older, I see the importance of balance. I can't justify porn; I really can't. After reading Les Miserables and seeing how Fantine sold herself for her child after she had sold all her furniture and no one would hire her, it really hit me that we put people into these situations, we rob them of their modesty, their soul even, and we rob them of everything. The problem is if we only associate nudity with sexuality then all things can be interpreted sexually, but that's not the case. But with the advent of porn growing faster than both the film and video game industry combined more and more people are becoming victims of a double sword disease. First, the victim is the one who is innocent, whether it be a youth or a grown woman who is either forced to show his or her self for any abnormal circumstance. I'm starting to sound like a poorly written law, but the problem is that with expression it is literally impossible to set perimeters, so to describe abnormal circumstance is a tricky one. I would describe it as if a person could only make money by prostitution or by selling pictures of their self. As well, if someone is physically made to do something out of their control-- that is clearly wrong. The second danger, is the one that becomes addicted to porn and gradually has to increase the perverted behavior in the content to continue stimulating their self-- which easily can lead to child molestation and other such horrors.

So how do we stop this? We become aware. If we are aware of dangers and if we ignore those that are trying to get our attention in this way that can help breach the situation a little-- at least one person could be saved.

I'm not saying nudity is an entirely wrong thing and I want people to understand that. Nudity and sex is a big part of our lives. We are born naked, and how in the world would that be wrong? Maybe this will help explain how I feel: a certain note can be played on the piano along with various other notes to make an awe inspiring chord, but when that same note is played with all the wrong notes there's nothing that can make it sound right until you change to a new chord. We will constantly be hitting terrible chords in our life, but in music the change from a horrible chord to a harmonious one is glorious. If we play the key with other keys and it sounds terrible we should change because it's bothering our ears, but the problem is so many people are stuck in unharmonic chords in their lives and they just keep banging it while it becomes more and more painful. And sometimes we stay on the same chord because we find it comfortable and it becomes a very lukewarm unlived life.

One of my friends put it brilliantly: we can help the poor, but who's helping the rich? If we can move the rich man's heart we can provide for more shoes on children's feet, more vaccinations, a roof over another's head, clean air, and a plate of food for everyone. Is a war on poverty just as insane as a war on terrorism?

I hear this story all the time but it's worth mentioning:
"Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work. One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up. As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean. He came closer still and called out 'Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?' The young man paused, looked up, and replied 'Throwing starfish into the ocean.' 'I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?' asked the somewhat startled wise man. To this, the young man replied, 'The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die.' Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!" At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the
water, he said, 'It made a difference for that one.'" (Eiseley)

We can save, and that's the mission of love: to be sacrificing ourselves to serve one another. So many are baffled by love, if not all of us. But here's a few keys that I have come across: love means to sacrifice, love is a constant choice, we don't always naturally love one another, love will change you, and love is not an easy route.

Did you know that when Jesus died on the cross he was naked? Actually, that's widely debated. But it was customary to strip those that were crucified for further humiliation. And wouldn't the Romans have wanted to do just that since Christ was considered so much of a criminal? Regardless, I think the cross is powerful enough and speaks to the heart about life, about going against the greatest challenges and still be living and that has stayed eternal in the hearts of Christians. As well, the promise of Christ and that he rose, conquered the grave, and broke the curtain are all resounding in the Christian's heart. Christians were sawed in half, tied to the backs of horses and dragged to death, chained, stoned, and other such sports killings. All because they knew Christianity would radically change society; they knew it was true and what could speak of more volumes than these precious individuals who would die for Christ and love? On earth we will constantly be fighting that which chokes our freedom until the glorious end.

Keep up the good fight.

PS. In my English class yesterday there was a girl who commented that Christianity is all about love and charity. Of course Christianity is about love, but what is love? I think Christianity is much more about sacrifice. I think we are supposed to be living our lives on the edge; I think we are supposed to step outside our comfort zone as much as possible. As well, Jesus said to the rich man that he must give up everything to follow him. Helping others is highly important, but we are supposed to be sold to that and we should be confessing from our mouths daily about the glory of Christ and that the route is not easy. The hardest part about being home now is I don't feel like I'm a Christian. When having my life completely immersed in the message of the Bible compared to daily living-- where I'm not constantly thinking about God-- I can't help but have internal struggles. I know that my life was better in Kenya and that I was much more faithful and that I was much more an essence of healing. I honestly do believe to be a Christian we must lay down our lives. We must give up everything to gain more in Christ-- which I know is one of the greatest paradoxes of all time. When we surrender our life to God he will use every part of us.

And what's more, the greatest reason why people could care less about what the contemporary Christian says is that the Christian comes off immature: weak, naive, uncaring, and riddled with illogical cliches.

Psalm 41:4
I said, "O LORD, have mercy on me; heal me, for I have sinned against you."

Welcome to Kenya

2008-07-14T22:44:00.000-07:00

Covering Monday June 9th, 2008

Acts 11:23

When he arrived and saw the evidence of the grace of God, he was glad and encouraged them all to remain true to the Lord with all their hearts.

I never dreamed I would go to Africa. Shots alone were terrifying to me. Once in Africa, it's hard to know why at one point you never wanted to be there. I still hadn't slept, but I was overflowing with joy even though I was only getting my visa and was told to vote for Obama-- isn't it strange that when on the other side of the world you're being told to vote?

I was a minority. For the first time in my life I truly was a foreigner. We began to gather our luggage.

The girls were instructed to ready carts for the 26 pieces of luggage; the boys were to find the luggage and bring it to us. After a few minutes, I sat on the floor by the carts. The seconds were ticking away. Every few minutes one of our suitcases would be found. We waited for a long time before turning in a missing luggage report. Initially, only 7 of our pieces came off the flight. Several of the found suitcases had torn zippers and holes. I was one of the unlucky ones that had neither suitcase. At this point, I had been wearing the same outfit for two days and I reeked. In my carry-on, I had a couple pair of jeans but no shampoo. It was frightening. A good portion of my wardrobe (I only have a few pairs of jeans) was brought along with certain things that had sentimental value. I kept all that too myself because I thought it was petty. I had to fight myself.

Several of us were facing the same dilemma. Although, Josh and Nicole were fortunate enough to have two of their suitcases. We circled around the carts containing the lucky pieces of luggage and we prayed together. We prayed that no matter what God would prevail and to remember that he would provide. Some had so much hope; they believed our luggage would make it without anything being stolen. I was not so sure. However, I believed no matter what that the most important thing was our mission for God and that if we had to lose every article of clothing we ever owned then so be it: we would survive. In actuality, it wasn't my measly clothes that bothered me but that in those suitcases were hundreds of supplies that we were taking to Hekima academy for the children. I would hate for that to be lost, but again we had our team and that was most important.

After a century was spent in the Kenyan airport, we finally headed towards our lodging. The girls would stay in a Christian ministry location called Ufungamano while the boys stayed in a YMCA. As we drove away from the airport, in the vans that would carry us for most of the trip, I came to several realizations all at once. My first realization was that many people in Nairobi were walking along the sides of the road. It didn't matter if it was in the middle of nowhere or in the busiest part of the city: there were always people walking, or carrying things on their heads, pushing a cart, shepherding herds of goats, or a mob of children in their school uniforms would pass by with many of them holding hands. Second, not having universal road laws or any laws makes driving a daring adventure. We were driving on the left side of the ride with no stop signs in sight, while we attempted to dodge cars and people. There were giant sized pot holes that could have been used as swimming pools for decent sized animals. The drivers knew every dimension of their vehicles because they would cut around every corner of, literally, everything. It was a matter of pulling into traffic and letting it resolve itself. Surprisingly, they have little to no accidents in Kenya, or so we were told.

But, that may be because most people can't drive in such conditions and gas is deadly expensive. Our gallon of gas is quickly going to four dollars as I write this now. They buy gas in liters, which is about a fourth of a gallon. Their gas costs at least 99.99 shillings which is about 3 American dollars (making this about 12 dollars a gallon). They have no set minimum wage, so some people could easily be working for a mere 200 shillings a day which would only pay for about half a gallon of gas in America. So, why have a car if you can walk?

My third realization: I was shocked by the amount of advertisement. When I originally thought of Africa, billboards did not first come to mind. Their clothes were different from what I'm used to seeing: lots of people in business suits with shoulder pads. In some of the more impoverished areas, the clothing would drastically change. There was a great amount of smog in the air. Most of the parks and bushes, if not all, were barricaded with barbed-wire fences. Most of the buildings had similar architecture, not artsy just simple plain buildings.

We finally arrived at the girls location and were introduced to Brent. Brent would be our guide for our mission trip's stay in Nairobi. He was the director of the Journey-- the campus ministry who worked alongside us. Brent was born in California and moved to Kenya when he was seven; he was one of two or three people I met in Kenya that were white. He helped us a great deal and sacrificed much of his time for us and we were exceedingly appreciative of him for that. We were also told that Tim, Kristina's brother, would be staying in the girls place when he would arrive at the end of the week. Therefore, his room was still open so one of the boys could take his spot-- eventually Lance volunteered.

While checking into our place, the bookkeeper of the lodging kept our passports-- for no valid reason. Obviously something wasn't right in order for her to confiscate our passports, luckily Brent got them back for us. I, along with Wacey, had rooms on the second floor while Jenny, April, Chrissy, and Lance were on the first. While we checked out our rooms and figured out how we were going to change our clothes, the boys were being checked into the YMCA.

At last! I found a bed. Can you imagine how tempting it was to crawl into that bed and sleep until I made coherent sense again? That actually wasn't too big of a struggle for me. There was an open window with the curtains waving from the breeze. A towel and a bar of soap were laid on the bed. Over the bed was a mosquito net. A desk accompanied with a chair was on the opposite wall of the bed; next to it was a mirror. There was a nightstand next to the window with a phone. A bulletin board was above the nightstand with the rules of the lodging. There was a closet with blankets. The door had two locks. The bathroom had a slide door. There's no way I can say this right, the toilet was inside the shower. There was a sink and water heater button (that wasn't found till later, although it didn't help). And, there was a window like hole in the bathroom to let all the heat out, which was a joke.

I ended up borrowing a shirt from April. I kept my green sweater that I had been wearing since Saturday morning-- it was now Monday afternoon. I had a spare pair of jeans and shoes, hallelujah! And so I took the coldest shower ever known. Actually, I kind of didn't.

I found the rest of the girls, and Lance, on the first floor. We were happy for a change of clothes but it was for the most part an odd change of clothes. We waited for Sevo to call and in the meantime had a few minutes of quality time to unwind.

For lunch, we headed to the Java House-- an American influenced coffee style restaurant. This, is when what little energy we had vanished. I sat with Lance, Josh, Weston, Jordan, and Nicole for lunch. I ordered the quesadillas-- which ended up being a bad choice. It seemed fine at first, but suddenly I realized there was some sort of spice in it that did not belong for my stomach. This, is the only complaint I have on the taste of food in Kenya, and of course it would be in the American style restaurant. Jordan fell asleep mid sentence.

Several of us took pictures of him falling asleep. I could not stop laughing; I had hit the delirious point. I took out my camera to start taking pictures to keep myself awake. When my plate of food was gone, it was incredibly hard not to fall asleep.

I pretended the Java sun logo was the sun from Mario World and I kept myself awake by thinking of Mario. Then I told Lance about the sun; he then took my camera and vicariously took pictures of everything in sight. Josh took a picture of Lance's inner ear. We were deliriously exhausted.

Sevo told us we would be moving onto the next event, which was a surprise. We would be going on a photo scavenger hunt. I, in this delirious state (I know I'm overusing that word), was thinking that was the coolest thing I had ever heard. Josh told Sevo that we might be too tired, and Jordan arose for a moment to chime in with an equal remark. We did not get an afternoon nap. We did move from the Java house into a full fledged photo scavenger hunt of Nairobi. Our teams were made by who we sat with at lunch. I felt like once I would start moving I would be able to stay awake.

When we got outside it dawned on me how insane it was to be running around Nairobi taking pictures. I completely trusted our guides for Nairobi, but still it might have been the bravest thing I've ever done in my whole life. It was also, by far, the most time consuming photo scavenger hunt I've ever partaken.

There was no hiding that we were white or American, so we just embraced it. We ran through various parts of the city, from the parks to the railway station. For the most part, people would look at us as they passed us by and they didn't approach us. Generally, when we stopped was when we were approached. An old man came to Josh and asked for him to pray for his teeth and asked for money.
When we were at the library, a Muslim woman immediately covered up her baby and quickly left the area. About 10% of the population of Kenya practices Islam. Most of the Muslims live in the Southeastern part of the country. The percentage of Christians widely vary in the country from source to source. While we were there most people said about 75-80% claim they are Christian, but you'll find that has little relevance to reality. The Bible was often incorporated into a child's schooling: which in America is often being pulled out or even Christmas trees are banned from schools. Seriously, Christmas trees? Oh no! Don't let the Christmas trees convert your children! Avert your eyes!

On many of the billboards and advertisements were scriptures or other inspiring messages. During our tour, we learned about Kenya's capital. We walked by the U.S. Embassy that was attacked in 1998 where hundreds of people were killed. It was solemn to walk by this location and to hear from the Kenyans how they never thought anything like that would ever happen in their country. In 1998, car bombs simultaneously went off in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania and Nairobi, Kenya. The attack was done by the Al Qaeda terrorist network, which brought them, for the first time, to international attention. This was only 3 years before the attack on the twin towers. I have also been to the September 11th site as well as the Oklahoma City bombing site (not related to Al Qaeda), maybe God's trying to tell me something here. Immediately after this attack, Bin Laden was put on the top ten list for most wanted by the FBI. There were other attacks before the one that occurred in both Tanzania and Kenya. Although the attacks were directed towards US government facilities, most of the victims were Africans. What does this mean? That's something we should all ponder.

During my freshmen year of college, I had the privilege to meet Mercy. She was a foreign exchange student from Kenya who was in my non-fiction English class. In one of our class periods, I had the chance to read her paper on this particular bombing; I remember how painful it was for me to read about how she lost so many influential people in her life during this attack. She lost her mom, aunt, friends, and many she knew were severally injured.

It was nearly impossible for my mind to take in all that was happening. Before I knew it, two or three hours had passed in this massive photo scavenger hunt. Our team was not as fast as the other, and I don't know if we won because as soon as we got back to our new home for the week I fell asleep. I couldn't contain myself any longer. It was the deepest sleep I think I've had in years. I think someone eventually had to come get me because we were meeting the Journey campus ministry at six, and I was unusually late. I had attempted to use my cell phone as an alarm clock but that had failed so I realized at that point I wouldn't be able to use that while I was in Kenya.

But regardless of that situation, that night, is apart of my fondest memories of Africa. I was at first, beyond groggy.

When we entered the room, we were mixed into a giant circle-- both the Journey and Chi Alpha (we call our group Campus Life at Missouri State University). I sat by Francisco. As a group, we had to play a strange thinking game that involved rhythm. The goal of the game was to mess up the king who calls the first number, everyone is assigned a number. Each time someone messed up-- when they failed to call a new number on rhythm-- they had to move to the very end and take the highest number. The lower the number, the closer you were to being the king. We played for a long time, but the king, which I believe was Gibson who helped us with the photo scavenger hunt, was awesome at staying on top of things and calling out new numbers. The last round we all called on him so it would have been like "King to 1" and then "1" would say "1 to King" then he would say "King to 6" and "6" would say "6 to King." This is all done fast so that can make it hard. For whatever reason, the first time my number was called the king failed. Everyone went into an uproar and before I knew it several people had picked me up and were carrying me and were shouting that I was the new king. They set me in the king's chair and I sat there completely overwhelmed. I've never seen such outgoing behavior in my life, and I've worked with Disney. I was extremely touched. After playing games we broke into small groups.

I was in a group with Justin, from our Chi Alpha, and Alex, Andrew, Florence, and a guy named, if I remember right, Steve. Alex, Andrew, and Florence helped us throughout the entire trip so it it is easier for me to remember their names. Alex took it upon himself to share first, and what I remember most was the refreshing smile he had. Andrew, told us about how God protected him during the civil disputes from the past election. I honestly could not believe what I heard.

We were given Kenyan tea, which might be the best tea on the entire planet, and then things came to a close. The last person in our circle, Steve, barely had the chance to share. As we were leaving several people came up to me and commented on how I was king. Many said "goodbye my king"-- I think I understand Kenyan sense of humor better than American. Then I had the chance to talk with Andrew a little bit and I encouraged him to join us at Mathare Valley. After the journey had left, we finally looked at our photo scavenger pictures and laughed over some of the more silly ones (okay, they're all silly). Then our whole group of fourteen crammed into Chrissy's room to eat dinner-- which was chicken. We then discussed all that we had yet experienced.

Mark 1: 16-18
As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men."At once they left their nets and followed him.

Traveling to Foreign Fields

2008-07-11T22:37:00.000-07:00

(word count 2116)

Covering Sunday June 8th-9th, 2008

Revelation 14:6

Then I saw another angel flying in midair, and he had the eternal gospel to proclaim to those who live on the earth—to every nation, tribe, language and people.

I was going insane. It was unfathomable to me how a plane could last forever; I was wide awake staring at the infinitesimal television screen before me. At some odd hour in the morning, we finally arrived in Amsterdam. It seemed too surreal to finally be in another continent after so many years of dreaming about the world.

We found our gate for Nairobi, then we were exasperated by the exchange rate for Euros, and then we attempted to open the mysterious lockers that had Dutch instructions.

Somehow, this process took over two hours. I was yawning more than breathing, but at the same time I thought I may never see the Netherlands again. I was trying to make the most of it-- while not collapsing to the floor and just letting someone carry me to my plane seat (I knew no one would do that). I finally came to a decision after the security check: I decided I would stay with the group that would tour the Netherlands. Our missionary leaders Sevo and Kristina, along with their seven month old Imani, stayed at the airport.

Our first purchase: one round trip ticket each for the Amsterdam train. I will mention here that nothing we did at the airport was instantly done, everything was a gruesome ordeal. The train system was surprisingly enchanting. In all honesty, I had no clue what was happening-- I think I may have been delirious. I figured in such a large group it was better to let someone else's brain do the thinking, especially since I was so tired that I could barely complete a full sentence-- more like I would ramble about pretzels and other such wonders of the tired mind. I was not sure if to others I was being a vexatious pest, but I know for sure that I was greatly annoying myself. Being both tired and hungry is a lousy combination. Also, I was blue because since the plane departed two hours late, and the Amsterdam airport was much larger than I expected, and most importantly, I had no way of contacting my Dutch friend. I did not get to see him after all. I felt like if I could just think of something-- anything-- I might have been able to contact him; I just didn't know how.

While looking out the window of the train I began to paint a picture in my mind of what life must have been like for him-- well at least the background-- and how living in Europe, or any place, shapes people. It was the first time I looked at myself and realized I am an American; I think only when you are outside your home do these things finally make sense. I wanted to blend with the crowd. I stuck out terribly, and what upset me was that I didn't even know how-- which was a scary thought, to know people around you know you are American and not knowing how they do. The littlest things about ourselves speak volumes of truths: the way we walk, the way we speak, the way we dress is all so collectively different that it tells its own story. Maybe, if I was by myself I wouldn't stick out so much but neither did I want to be by myself or did I even want to be on that quiet train.

That's what made it seem ghastly different to me. It was deathly quiet. Even on the American Coach bus to Epcot with fellow college program students, all the people from various origins and countries, the radio, the air conditioner-- there was always some noise; there was something different in the air. I can't put my finger on it, and I don't dare discover it and write it on paper.

The sun beamed through the window while the buildings sprung into the landscape, sometimes there was a masterpiece of interesting graffiti in Dutch-- or maybe another language? To my regret, I took no pictures in Amsterdam. While sitting on the train, I remembered a short film I had seen only a handful of days before heading to Kenya.

It's called "Strangers." An Israeli boards a train along with a Pakistani and they sit across from each other. A group of terrorists board the train and begin to assault the Pakistani. The Israeli and the Pakistani work together to escape the terrorists, and then they go their separate ways. What I was astounded by was how the directors of this film used audio to direct the story's motion.

Granted, for those of you who watched the film, nothing like that happened during my stay in Amsterdam.

We went into the streets looking for ways to buy our time. Countless people moved in all directions. Posters of American bands spread across building walls, fences, and dumpsters. Bicycles were in more numbers than people. My professor Baumlin was right, "Don't you dare walk in the red roads!" I took her advice, and was miraculously never hit by a bike.

Pot, sweat, and dust intermingled-- along with its noxious scent-- in the air. Cigarettes, bongs, and the like were in heaps on the ground. People gathered around apartments and the nearby courtyards to talk openly; they were even talking openly to the drunkards that were lost in the streets who would normally be passed by or hidden from sight when in the Midwest-- I'm thinking we may have too much pride. Graffiti danced its way into every crack, crevice, and creation.

The commercial area was filled with shops. The best way I can describe the onslaught of tourist products is: a sixth grade boy's fantasy land. There was the occasional post card with Jesus with blood shot eyes and some strange witticism written in Dutch that would make my eye twitch, but for the most part I found a lot of the material to be so over done that it was comedic. One of my best friend's would have been ecstatic; simply because, there was a plethora of things she could have used with that creative mind of hers to make the best pranks-- and playful revenges. It does get rather old, I mean when it comes to the point that salt and pepper shakers are made to look like various private body parts, it just becomes silly, not obscene.

The pinnacle of oddities in Amsterdam was that in some of what I perceived to be display cases to the stores was people: people smoking pot. Maybe I'm completely wrong and it just looked like what I'm used to seeing as display cases. But I did think it was odd that a person would sit in such a small place to advertise what was obviously happening everywhere.

We stopped at a small diner to eat. Our waitress said she only knew a little Dutch. She gave us peanut butter sauce to try on our fries-- that's all the rage in the Netherlands. The most entertaining part to me was Dutch TV. I've never had acid-- well any drug-- but the channel was stuck on Dutch MTV, of course MTV in America is bizarre, but this is what I would imagine an explosive acid trip to be. It was so strange that I was compelled to watch it. In one moment little cartoon chickens would be running around a cactus and then they would all explode, and maybe it would have helped if I knew at least one word in Dutch. A song came on that was incredibly and horrifically catchy-- it was ironic the words that were getting stuck in some of our mission team's minds. I was curious to know what else was on TV.

We were there for only a moment at the diner-- where the only real differences were that: water had a price, you had to ask for ice, and you ate your fries with peanut butter sauce. A couple of us peeked into the McDonalds, just to see if it was different; well the food items had different names with high prices, so if that counts, then by all means yes. We headed back to the airport and caught a glimpse of a bike rack overloaded with hundreds of bikes.

I had lost track of how many hours it had been since I was in Springfield asleep. When we were finally back to our gate for Kenya, I knew that I needed to surrender myself to that much needed sleep. It was like fighting a lion with no hands. I realized even though I shouldn't be talking, because I may end up saying something painfully bizarre or I'll end up offending somebody and not realizing it till later, I could not keep my mouth shut. I think most people were on the same page with me. I think we were disoriented with our stay in Amsterdam, United Way, and the ghastly seven hour time difference. I drastically needed something to drink but I wasn't willing to pay 4 Euros for one (meaning 8 American dollars). That's beyond absurd-- regardless that it's an airport. I attempted to learn more Swahili but eventually, I joined in with the happy-go-lucky conversations on chick flicks, something about psychology, and the one that gave me the name "Dr. Mom."

I don't know why I kept doing this, but I kept telling Weston to go see a doctor, on many, oh so many occasions throughout the entire trip. First, it was for his ear. He said he could only hear 50% in one ear. I told him it was easy to fix, actually I've had that problem before so I don't know, I mean with the ear. I just kept arguing about things that were pointless. I mean, yes, he should take care of his ear, but I'm not his doctor, in fact he barely knew me so it was just unusual that I kept doing that. But eventually, I thought it was funny so throughout the trip whenever something arose, I chimed in with assorted health tips-- without caring whether it was necessary.

After what seemed like a long awaited miracle, we were boarding our plane. I was so eager to go. As soon as I was in my seat I closed my eyes. There were too many little noises and things happening that prevented that long awaited slumber. I was on the verge of screaming into a pillow-- to be honest, I might have. Just as I was catching some z's one of the flight attendants sneaked their way to me and asked if I would like a hot towel. I nearly had a heart attack. They were so polite and quiet (which shocked me enough), but to be so close to dream land made it surprisingly violent in my heart. I took that towel and rubbed it all over my face. I drifted again, but I don't think I ever truly went to sleep; sadly, I was deficient at sleeping on planes this time. The movies on this plane intrigued me; one was from India and I had never seen a Bollywood flick so I gave it a chance. It definitely helped making stay up a little more interesting-- especially with all the fast paced music.

April, one of the closet friend's I have, saw me watching Om Shanti Om and made one of the most stupefied faces I have ever seen. I told her she should watch it, but it takes time to appreciate the new.

The Kenya airlines service was top notch. I had no idea that flying could be so comfortable. It was unbelievable. The meals were exquisite for airplanes, and the Kenyan tea was a nice touch. I rarely heard any noise from the flight attendants. I changed my attitude from there-- regardless of the fact that I had been awake for an unnatural amount of hours. I listened to Chinese instrumental pop on the radio; anything unusual caught my curiosity. International planes are much more interesting.

It seemed like my whole life had been on a plane. I feel like this journal is doing justice of how long the wait was to finally arrive to the much anticipated final destination. That might not be a good thing, however.

1 Corithians 15:51
Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed—