Kenya '08: 7/11-7/28
: An Overview.
People: 91 members of Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, with ages ranging from 12 to 79.
Where: Kali, Kenya
Mission: To spread the love of God by working on Suvia Children's Home, which will eventually house 200 orphans. With the first dormitory already built by preceding groups, our jobs included building the kitchen, finishing the dormitory, and digging a trench for water pipes.
: Day-by-day Journal.
7/11-7/12: Travel days. 6 hour bus ride to Chicago. 8 hour flight to London. 8 hour flight to Nairobi. The other half of our group got delayed and won't make it into Nairobi until tomorrow. We stay the night in Nairobi. We are given bottled water, since we can't drink or brush our teeth with tap water.
7/13: We went to service at a fairly traditional Lutheran church in Nairobi. A 3 hour bumpy bus ride after lunch finally landed us in Kali. The dirt around here is this amazing red/orange color. It covers all the trees and plants by the road, making them look like bronze sculptures. The mountains are beautiful as well. We make a quick stop at one town as we wait for the other buses. Children begin to crowd around the bus, and I feel like I'm an exhibit at the zoo. We get anxious when our bus driver is slow to return. As we finally drive off, the children chase us through the dust.
We arrive at Reverend Kisua's house, where the boys will be staying. Us girls get back on the bus after they've unloaded and proceed to Kisua's church, where we will be staying. The room is filled with bunks (which will eventually be used in the orphanage) covered in mosquito nets. Charlie and my dad are in the other group, which won't arrive until tomorrow. Thus, I'm without sheets, a towel, Malaria pills, etc.
After dinner, Kisua invites us not to "make ourselves at home" (for he wishes us to leave all our problems from home at home), but, rather, to "make ourselves at heaven." He explains the long term plan for Suvia's Children's Home, which he hopes to eventually include a primary school, secondary school, polytechnic school, college, and university to help disadvantaged children.
Suvia, by the way, means "take care" in Kikamba. (Kikamba is the local dialect they speak here. Kids also learn Swahili and English in school.)
7/14: Cold morning! Since Kenya is below the Equator, July is actually part of winter.
After breakfast, we walk over to the work site for the first time. I spend the majority of the day shoveling dirt to level out the floor inside what will be the kitchen. I also helped chisel rocks (so that the inside of the building would have flatter walls). We work from 9 to 4:30ish, with 3 breaks during the day: tea time at 10:30 and 3:30, and lunch at 12:30.
The other part of our group joined us near the end of the day. After work, the kids teach us how to pull out our bottom lip and suck in and whistle. It's not until days later, however, that most of us get it to work.
Kikamba phrases for the day:
Wakya - "Hello" to a child (The response is "aaa")
Kii kitawa ata? - What is this called?
View from work site
7/15: Aching from shoveling and chiseling, I opted to tie wire today for the inside wire structures. One of the Kenyans tying wire decided to teach us some Kikamba. Later in the day, I helped with the block line and moving tree limbs (that were later used for scaffolding).
Kikamba phrases for the day:
Witawa ata? - What is your name?
Nitawa _____ - My name is _____
Munyanyawa - Friend
The shower situation is interesting. Women boil water for us twice a day - morning and after work. You take a little basin and fill it with hot water and cold water until it's the temperature you want. Then you go into a little stall and scrub yourself the best you can. Most of us brought in cups of some sort, so that we could use that to pour water over our heads to rinse out shampoo.
Current disappointment is that it's been really cloudy. Thus, we are unable to see the stars at night (which we've been told are absolutely amazing).
7/16: Today was my day for kid's club! The preschool room was the saddest, in my opinion. Since chalk and paper cost quite a bit, the ground had been written on in charcoal. Outside all the classrooms are diagrams and maps for teaching. The kids are crazy bright. They grow up learning Kikamba, Swahili, and English. In the Standard 8 classroom, one girl was asking me how we elected our president and how our education system was structured. (Standard 1-8 is grades 1-8, Form 1-4 is grades 9-12.) Another interesting thing was that their social studies classes seemed to focus heavily around missionaries.
The kids first entertained us with songs and a poem. We then entertained them with a skit (about the prodigal son) and songs. We went back to the classrooms for our craft: decorating foam visors. I was placed with Standard 6, so they finished fairly quickly. Back outside, soccer and frisbee were instant favorites. When the younger kids joined us, bubbles and playing with a parachute were also enjoyed. I was mobbed by kids as soon as I brought out my sketchbook and crayons. Crayons are something kids there just don't see. A real treat.
After lunch, I went back to wire twisting. Kioko taught us some more Kikamba as well. After tea time, however, Kelly and I decided to sketch the mountains/site for a bit. We were quickly mobbed with kids once more.
7/17: I started out today sand carrying. I have no idea how the Kenyan women do this all day -- I was tired before our first tea time. The company is great though. The women are absolutely wonderful. They too taught me some Kikamba.
Kikamba phrases for the day:
Tuthi bola - Go slowly
Kanoa - Tired
I didn't do a whole lot the rest of the day. I talked a bit with Kioko and Anna. Near the end of the work day, when the children from the nearby school flooded over to the site, Anna let down her blond hair. Immediately, kids were petting it. Two children, Ndinda and Musau, were carrying sand along with the women. Ndinda is absolutely adorable.
During worship, we learned a song in Kikamba. It goes like this (I'm sure the spelling is wrong, so I'll apologize ahead of time):
Ngai nimuseo
Ngai nimuseo
Ngai nimuseo
Nimuseo
Kwa
Kwa
It means: God is so good, God is so good, God is so good, he's so good to me.
7/18: I helped paint the girls' dormitory this morning. Primer for now. It's so thin that we keep painting the walls over and over with it...
After lunch, I had my home visit. The compound seemed relatively nice (and by "nice", I still mean that no American in their right mind would choose to live there...). We took a Polaroid picture of their family, which was a huge hit. We visited an old couple afterward, which I understand to be the grandparents to the family we had just visited.
7/19: Saturday - no work for us.
We first went to the Polytechnic school. They sung a number of songs for us, and we learned another new one.
Oh, narrow gate
Gate to Heaven
Without humbling your heart
You cannot pass
Through narrow gate...
We were given a tour of the Polytechnic school. The director explained to us that sewing and carpentry are two of the big things they teach, but they're now trying to incorporate computers as well (they have 1 computer currently to teach 40 kids).
On our way out, a number of us had our first encounter with squatty potties. Back at our dorms and on site, they provide us with "American toilets" (with seats). Squatty potties are merely holes in the ground that you, well... have to squat over.
We next stopped at a small town called Tawa. We made quite the spectacle -- 94 white people (91 of us, plus the 3 World Servants leaders) walking around. People stared at us the whole time.
Finally, we reached Machakos. The marketplace was really interesting. Many of us bought cloth (to use as a wrap skirt). When we tired of looking around, Erika, Katie, and I left the marketplace and walked around a bit. Erika wanted to find some Muslims to talk to, because she wanted to know what it was like living in a predominantly Christian nation without separation of church and state. (Prayers are commonly said in public schools, for example.) Although we found a Mosque and the Muslim Institute, we didn't have a whole lot of luck.
Machakos market
Mosque in Machakos
haha. :)
Crowded bus
7/20: We split up in different groups for church. My preacher for the day was Maggie and our church was Nzililini, which happened to be nearly an hour away. The church was small, and we were immediately herded to the front. The youth "choir" danced for us. The women's choir and men's choir took turns singing. We sang.
Offering time was after all the singing. Men and women had different offering plates, and many people brought up tomatoes, eggs, or even live chickens, rather than money. After everything had been collected, they sold off the items like an auction. The Dietzlers bought a chicken to bring back for the cook.
There was more singing, the sermon, and then we shared the peace as we exited. We didn't return for lunch until past 2, though we had probably left around 9.
In the afternoon, most people climbed the mountain. In fact, I was the only well "kid" to stay back (3 others were sick and also skipped). I went outside to journal, but soon kids began coming over. They put my hair in a bunch of braids, we had a tickle fight, and we drew for a little while. Some of the adults decided to walk to Kisua's, so I joined them. The kids walked us there, holding our hands the whole time. Overall, it was a pretty mellow day.
Grace with the chicken
7/21: Kid's club again today. We were at the school next to the work site, so some of the children were familiar. The children sung to us and said bible verses. We did a skit (Jesus walking on water) and sang songs. We then broke up for crafts (this time, we made necklaces with yarn, cut straws, and beads). I was with Standard 2. Again, after crafts was game time. Bubble wands were fought over. Kids played frisbee and soccer. The parachute was once again brought out. We also did "Hands, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" and "The Hokey Pokey" with the kids, which went over well. They really like any songs that involves moving.
Leaving was awkward. We offered to take a Polaroid of the teachers, which turned into a Polaroid of the teachers, one of the children, of the translators, and one of us. Still, they asked for more. It was hard to say good-bye without the bus picking us up as an excuse to leave. We finally managed to make it over to the work site.
In the afternoon, I returned to painting. Amy and I had a time with it, painting, singing, and talking. We continued with the primer and began to paint the windows white.
We were dismissed a bit early from work, as some of our group was scheduled to play volleyball with a group of Kenyans in "downtown" Kali. I only watched a little bit (I wanted to have time to shower), but it sounded like they had fun.
It was a good night. We were given Tootsie Rolls, there were cakes (it was Beckie and Sandra's birthday), and Mary and Maggie sang/rapped a birthday song to them.
Volleyball
Tootsie Rolls
7/22: Last day of work. We had to wake up by 5:30 (an hour earlier than usual) because we only had until lunch to get all of the roof tresses up. One of my eyes has been majorly bothering me (from all the dust, perhaps?), so I had to switch to glasses midday.
Amy and I painted the doors. The baby blue paint didn't quite cover the dark red of the doors, but we had a fun time painting. Again, painting, singing, and talking.
At lunch time, I walked the trench back. I was thoroughly impressed by the amount of work the trenchers completed this past week.
After lunch was the dedication of Suvia Children's Home. There were a number of speeches, we were individually thanked for our work, and we took a group picture.
Dinner was a celebration. Two goats had been cooked in our honor. Unfortunately, goat is so tough that many people couldn't eat much. The best part was the goat liver, and that's mostly because it was chewable. A number of others tried other goat organs for fun, such as intestines, pancreas, and lung.
Kitchen with the roof tresses up
7/23: After some bus trouble, we say our good-byes to Kisua and hit the road. We drive 3 hours back to Nairobi. Our first stop in Nairobi is the animal orphanage, where I get to pet a cheetah (it purred!), and hold a lion cub (who tried to bite me). We then proceeded to the giraffe sanctuary, where I was kissed by a giraffe.
We had dinner at the Carnivore. It was a pretty upscale place, where they bring huge things of meat over to your plate and, if you want some, they use machetes to cut off pieces. It was most interesting because we got to try crocodile and ostrich meatballs. While I wasn't a big fan of the crocodile, the ostrich was very good.
7/24: What we expected to be a 4-hour ride from Nairobi to the Maasai Mara ended up being a 7 1/2-hour ride. We arrived around 4, in time for a very, very late lunch. Some of us are staying in tents; some in cabins. The tents are pretty cool. It feels weird though, going from an incredibly poor area to staying here. It's very upscale.
First day, and already we've seen Zebras, Hyenas, Buffalo, Impala, Topi, Elephants, and Lions. Still, my favorite part is the scenery. The yellow and blue stretches on forever.
Our "tent"
7/25: A safari drive early in the morning and a safari drive in the evening. Card playing and true relaxation in between.
7/26: A rather uneventful day. We saw more animals as we left the Maasai Mara and shopped a little bit on the way back. An 8 hour drive later, we were back in Nairobi. The group leaving today repacked and cleaned up at the guest house, and we headed off for the Java House for dinner. The food was delicious and the conversation was wonderful. At the Java House, we said our good-byes to the group leaving, and we parted ways.
7/27-7/28: Woke up, showered, and put my hair in my "travel braids".
On our way to church, we passed through the second largest slum in Nairobi. There's no way I could express it properly, and I didn't have my camera with me. For now, all I’ll say is that the poverty is absolutely mind-blowing.
Church was rather dull. In fact, a number of people in our group dozed off during the sermon. We left after being there over 2 hours, and the reverend was only partially through the sermon.
Later in the day, we visited the Yaya Center, where there is a Maasai market. My shopping already finished, I mostly enjoyed walking around. We then returned to the Java House for dinner once more. I sat with different people and ordered different food, but both the conversation and food were equally amazing as the night before. We had a good 3 hours before leaving for the airport, so we lingered over dinner and dessert, then took a walk over Nakumatt (sort of like Walmart) to get snacks for the trip.
Our first plane took off just past mid-night. An 8-hour flight from Nairobi to London. An 8-hour flight from London to Chicago. A 6 hour bus ride. Home.
: Reflections.
Love.
I went into this trip with one verse in mind. The first night we were in Nairobi, I wrote out 1 Corinthians 13:13. "So faith, hope, and love remain, but the greatest of these is love." I wrote it at the time because I couldn't find my Bible, and it's one of my favorite verses (thus, one of the few I remembered). I had no idea at the time how much that would prove itself this trip.
Most of the people I met had next to nothing. Children walked barefoot because they couldn't afford shoes. They shivered in the morning -- loud enough that you could hear their teeth chatter -- because they couldn't afford warm clothes. They were lucky to get 2 small meals a day.
Yet here, in the midst of a seemingly hopeless situation, I found the warmest welcomes and the biggest smiles. In the midst of nothing, there remained faith, shown in the way people often introduced themselves or greeted one another. A common follow-up after giving your name was often something to the effect of "...And I am a follower of Jesus" or "...And I praise God for meeting you." Blessings were literally given -- if someone pantomimes throwing one at you, you should catch it and put it in your heart. Church service wasn't an obligation; after a 3-hour service, people still lingered to talk and catch up.
In the midst of nothing there was hope, shown in Kisua's vision for Suvia Children's Home and the community's willingness and excitement to help. Some of the workers walked hours each day to work. While the men were being paid, the women were working because they wanted to. They carried sand up and down that hill all day, day after day because of the hope that they have for this home.
And, in the midst of nothing, there was love. Love emanated from those I met in Kenya. Adults wanted to talk to you, children wanted to play with you. There wasn’t a moment that I didn’t feel wanted and loved.
In the midst of nothing, these three certainly remain: faith, hope, and love.
And the greatest of these is love.
One body.
One thing I found unsettling was the way they treated us. Don’t get me wrong—we were treated phenomenally. It just felt like we were being treated too well. The Kenyans clearly, very clearly, felt that we were above them. We were given the best of everything. I’d claim that it was just amazing hospitality, but it felt too nice. It was too much.
At my second kid’s club, the head teacher was telling the story of Zacchaeus. He was talking about how Zacchaeus waited in the tree patiently for Jesus to pass, and, in return, was able to dine with him. Then he said something to the effect of, “These children have waited patiently for you to come, and now you are here with them.” My jaw almost dropped. Was this man seriously comparing us to Jesus?
The Kenyans seemed to understand that we were all one body in Christ, in that we were all helping one another along. However, they didn’t seem to understand our equality in Christ. The inferiority complex made me feel quite uncomfortable.
Perfection.
My friend Amanie and I were talking a while back about perfection. I was talking about how there were perfect things in the world and perfect moments in life, but she believed that nothing on earth was perfect.
The conversation has been running through my mind since then. Looking at the mountain in Kali, I thought things were perfect. Even more so, I thought that the Maasai Mara – pretty much everything about it – was perfect.
Here’s what I’ve decided: We’re both right. I see perfection pretty much every day, but when I say “perfection”, I mean that there’s nothing about it I would change.
The problem is my frame of reference. There’s nothing I would change because I know nothing better. It’s like a good smell or a colorful object. It might smell good or look colorful to me, but to a dog, which can smell considerable more smells than humans, or to a butterfly, which can see more colors than humans, the smell might not be as good or the object might not be as colorful as it could be. It’s like the Claritin commercials. “There’s clear, and there’s Claritin clear.” Everything looks fine until you realize it could be better.
“Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will now everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.” – 1 Corinthians 13:12
There you have it. I may think things here are perfect, but things will be even more perfect in Heaven. Could that be any more amazing to think about?
Poverty.
Passing through the slum in Nairobi forced tears into my eyes. The poverty there is absolutely unimaginable. I regret the fact that I didn’t have my camera with me. Afterward, I attempted to sketch what I saw in words, but it hardly does it justice:
Tin houses, the size of my bathroom, perhaps.
Tents, not for leisure; rather, a permanent residence.
Dirt. Dust. Community water. Is it safe? Probably not. Women bend over, washing clothes, washing clothes. There will be more clothes to wash tomorrow.
A mother beats a child with a piece of corn. Does the child deserve it? He cries and cries. Perhaps he was only wanting a bite to eat.
Wheelbarrows of grapes. "Man power."
Holes for shops. Here someone is sewing. There is barely enough room in her shop to do so. Another hole is labeled "Butchery". Another, "Med Clinic". All the same. All small. All dirty.
Trash is everywhere. Some literally sit on the mounds. Elsewhere, it just piles up.
Looking down an alley, all is the same. Finally, a hill reveals stretches of these shacks. Shops. Homes. They stretch on and on. There appears to be no end. No, no end in sight.
A child leans against the wall of her home. Another man is sitting down, bent over, hands on his head. Does hope live here? Maybe, maybe not. It's hard to think of anything at all living in these conditions, and I imagine hope suffers greatly along with the people.
No one should ever experience the things these people are experiencing.
And this is only the second largest slum in this city alone.
NAIROBI.
All I could think about was sitting there, making buttons for ‘If Thy Tongue Can Speak’. If I remember correctly, I was telling my friend Kelsey some statistics about the lack of clean water around the world. She looked at me and said, seriously, “What can we do about it?”
Whenever I think of a world problem now, I try to think of that. There’s no use just talking about how sad it is. The question should always be “What can we do about it?” We should always be geared toward action.
Looking at the slum and thinking of that question – that’s what put tears in my eyes. I tried to think “What can we do about it?” The answer escapes me still. The situation seems completely hopeless. The scene will continue to haunt me.
Listen, please. Never take anything for granted. Not water. Not food. Not a refrigerator or toilet. Certainly not a shower or hot water. Not a washer or dryer. Not education. Not family.
2 comments:
Lauren,
Beautiful blog entry and the pictures are breathtaking.. thank you! What I loved the most was how clearly you articulated their challenges, yet honored and elevated them through descriptions of their love, generosity and genuine appreciation for your presence and help during the trip.
Here are some of my personal thoughts... poverty can exist in the outward manifestations of what we can physically view, and poverty can also exist inside one's heart and soul. The Tao Te Ching states in one of its chapters, "The Whole Is In Each Part". We are all one in the universal collective consciousness, so when we say, "What can we do?", we say it for the world as a whole. There is no you over there and me over here, life is one, and it is our collective responsibility to be responsible for all that we see and experience while we are here. Love, Teresa
That was amazing, Lauren. You conveyed the poverty of the slums very well; it brought tears to my eyes. The pictures you posted are amazing, and I thouroughly enjoyed reading about your point of view from the trip. I am recommending this blog to my friends who were not on the mission trip, so that they might also read those words you put in your reflections and have their hearts be touched. I have thought about this trip in many ways, but not yet the way which you pointed out here on your blog.
And though it might be in small ways, we all CAN do things to help small, third world countries like Kenya, such as sending love, support and prayers to the hearts of those in need. Precious few may also be able to do something physical, like going on a mission trip to help others. And of course, we can all do what World Servants suggests: Learn, Serve, and Tell.
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