Kenya

I bought a bookmark in Kenya that I keep in my Bible. On it is written a Kenyan proverb in elegant handwriting – “Traveling teaches men their way.” Here’s what I think my trip is teaching me…

• I am far less afraid since my return. I hope hope hope that this effect has staying power. I have always been a ‘fraidy mouse, but I have not felt that or thought those things since I’ve been back. I faced a whole bunch of personal fears in going, and right now, everything else seems like small potatoes. Thank goodness!
• Playing duck-duck-goose in a country known for their fast runners. Really? Not necessarily a good idea 🙂
• This is definitely a season of refining and shaping.
• Creation. DANG! Creation. I want to notice Him more, enjoy Him more in what He has created.
• Turns out, I can live without Diet Pepsi. Who knew?

Okay, this one doesn’t fit nicely into a bullet point. Back to that Anthropology class point from the last post – the notion that it’s judgemental to label one culture as more advanced than another. I hear you. I do. We do vaccinate our children; we can communicate with people anywhere in the world within an instant, and we have way more food, clothes, and shelter than we need. Okay. I’ll give you that. We’re healthier, busier, better resourced, wealthier, and have more “knowledge” and gadgets. That’s not an eternally valuable list; those aren’t things that we aspire to as we desire to be more like Christ. The people of Segera are poor; they know their need for God in a way that I never will. It sounds like the rumble of hunger in their children’s bellies, and it feels like the weight of the water bucket she carries every day. It looks like dirty feet eaten away by filth, and it sounds like a prayer to grow that tiny dark cloud in the sky to a life-giving shower. Joy and gratitude are radiant on their dusty faces. Those are circumstances and attributes dear to His own heart. The Bible is clear that Jesus is The Advocate for the oppressed, poor, and humble, and He is near to those who realize their need for Him.

We have done exceedingly well at using our wealth to cushion ourselves against our need for God. My children have never known their need for Him; that is scary to me as a parent. We are too busy, too selfish, too rich, too proud, and too stressed for Him. Our comforts come at a great spiritual cost. God, in His mercy, still loves us, is still moving in this place, changing and saving lives. But we will never need Him like they do.

So, I hesitate to call us more advanced.

That has been the hardest part of coming back for me. How do I cling to my need for Him here? How will I live differently because I have been there? How do I even begin to simplify my life? How do I parent?

So, it was really hard to come back to the busyness and materialism of Christmas in America. This was a more serious Christmas for me, but not really in a bad way. I think I was much more focused on Christ than I usually am but also less enamored by the bells and whistles of the commercial aspect. I was far less stressed than normal during the holidays but less silly and giddy as well. I definitely think this is the toughest time of year to come back from this kind of trip.

This concludes our journey to Segera together. Thought you might enjoy another look…

If you have any interest in donating to the communities of Kenya through The 410 Bridge, please check this out.

Or if you would like to sponsor a child in the Segera area through BrightPoint for Children, you can click here. You can actually sponsor some of the exact same kiddos I met, and if you look closely enough at some of my pictures you might recognize their faces. COOL, COOL STUFF!

Randomness from the other side of the planet

• On Wednesday morning, I woke up and my tongue was black. Yes, of course, I freaked out! I thought, “Oh, snap! I’m in Africa, and my tongue is black. That can’t be good!” Jennifer, my roommate, kinda gasped when I told her; she thought that was pretty not good too. Heather said she thought it might be from the medicines I was taking (sleep meds, malaria meds, a regimen of stomach meds) or that I was turning into a giraffe (they have black tongues too :-). I texted Chris, “My tongue is black. Please look that up.” So, I thought I might die at any minute the rest of the day. It went away when I brushed my teeth, and I kept checking all day to see if it grew black again. It did not. About twelve hours later I did speak with Chris on the phone, and he confirmed that it had just been a reaction/interaction of the medicines I was taking.

• Though the kids thought my name was fun to say (they pronounced it more like kooky with a stretched out oo), they didn’t actually know what a cookie was. Their word for cookie in English is biscuit, which is why they would often call to the bus as we were driving in, “Give me biscuit” or “Give me chock-a-late” in little raspy voices. It was the first time in my life that I met new people and they didn’t think my name was funny.

• Though the Kenyan children were very physically affectionate, they don’t hug. That’s just not something they do. The first few times I tried to hug a child, they didn’t really seem to know how to respond. They found it awkward and perhaps even a little inappropriate. They were very comfortable holding hands, shaking hands, rubbing our arms, playing with our hair. They would say, “You have very smot (smart) hair.”

• I kept flashing back to my Anthropology class in college where we studied (and I do believe) that no culture is better than another. It’s even judgemental to think of one culture as more advanced than another. There are just groups of people who do things differently, and it’s pretty cool to study the hows and the whys of various groups. I’ll come back to that point in my next post, but one of the differences we noticed in the classroom was though “thank you” is a huge concept; “please” is not. It caught a few of us off guard when a student would ask for something in class, and it came off sounding like a demand – though his face or disposition didn’t communicate that. Their “Give me yellow” was equivalent to our “Please pass me the yellow colored pencil.” It’s just not part of the way they communicate. Though they are such gentle and polite people.

• On some days there were passion fruits in our lunchboxes. After a little coaxing from one of our trip leaders, we agreed that when in Africa, you eat your passion fruit. Just because it’s a passion fruit in Africa. You cut the top off and suck out the contents. It does have a fruity taste, but the consistency is that of an oyster full of sunflower seeds.

• I did learn that if you totally pack each nostril with tissue all the way to the bridge of your nose, you cannot smell a thing. That was useful the one time I used the outdoor facilities.

Other Fun-ness from the week

• On Wednesday afternoon, some of the Maasai came to the mission to sell their beaded wares: bracelets, earrings, key chains, tribal necklaces, beaded sticks and canes, etc… I bought a tribal necklace and then stored it in a gallon-size Ziplock bag to bring it home. When I opened the bag here, I was surprised. I received a smoky whiff – the scent of the hut my necklace was strung in. I inhaled big and left the necklace in the bag, resealing it quickly to keep the smell.

• After shopping, a contingent of us had to walk across a narrow river to reach two of the buses on the other side. The red bus was stuck in the mud, and the white bus had driven over to help free it. It would have taken too too long for the buses to drive back around to where we were, so we walked through the river to the buses. That was a fun adventure and was the only time we actually just walked through the bush.

• There were many many transportation fails during the trip. One bus had a flat tire shortly after we left the airport. Another broke down completely at lunch on that same day. The red bus was impounded and stuck in the mud, and I feel like I’m missing others as well. Good times… Seriously!

• On Thursday, we attended a dedication of the Black Tank water project. My hubs, Chris, worked on this water project during his trip in June. In November, during our trip, the project was given to the community – for them to continue to work on and maintain. I had the cool opportunity to speak at that dedication service.

• Then we headed to Sweetwaters Tented Camp. Amazing, amazing, amazing! We saw lots and lots of super cool animals (my pics didn’t turn out too hot) and everyone had the option of going on a night safari. Cool stuff!

Planning to wrap it up tomorrow…

So, two and a half days of our trip were spent in three different schools (nursery, primary, and older) – the morning at one, the afternoon at another – allowing us the opportunity to return to work with the same students and classes on two different days.

After recess that first day at the primary school, the students went in to their classes and we held a brief planning meeting. After having spent an hour or so with the kids, it had become clear that these students didn’t know English super well (not the case with the students at the older school). They knew the basics for introductory conversation, but that seemed to be the extent of it. There were 60-70 kiddos in each class; the plan was that 3-4 of us would go in to each class and lead/teach for an hour and a half. AN HOUR AND A HALF WITH SCORES OF STUDENTS WHO BARELY SPOKE ENGLISH! Are you sensing that the teacher in me began to secretly hyperventilate?

But.

It was amazing! The teachers stayed in with us to help translate when we needed it, and the kids did seem to understand more than I initially thought. We had two activities planned (God keeps His promises – Noah and the rainbow (they see lots o’ rainbows), and God is my sun and my shield – Psalm 84:11) and we had plenty to do.

Adonai, I love you so so much too!