Welcome Home!

Zebras assault the mind

with a blinding frenzy of direction.

Giraffes tower

high above the soul.

Gazelles trample the land

bounding toward home.

Elephants graze discretely

hiding along the horizon

Hyena circle their target

slyly playing their game.

Massai pepper the landscape

bursting with color and joy!

"You are very welcome here,"

your new home.

Peter

Beth & Peter at Ubuntu Day

Tonight over dinner, Jeremiah told us Peter's story. Peter is in the verbal Malika kids class at CTC, though he doesn't have a disability. He was a street boy who frequented CTC. Jeremiah fed him a few times and enquired after his story. He traveled with his mom and a younger sibling to visit family in Maai Mahiu. Somewhere along the way, his mom abandoned him. It appears she also suffered from a mental illness. His grandmother could not take him in as she is struggling too. CTC accepted him. He now lives with his teacher, Jane, but it is only a temporary arrangement.

Peter remembered all of our names on the first day. He also knew exactly who we were when we returned two days later. He is incredibly bright, but extremely delayed. At 10, he presents as 6 or 7 years old. We have begun a serious conversation with Jeremiah about a possible new initiative for street children. It would be in the interest of the community, future and present, to have a healthy, stable home for these children. All of the orphanages are currently full and/or overcrowded. They are only accepting children aged 5-10. So there are a large majority of children who are under-served as it is. Please keep Peter and all the street children of Maai Mahiu in your prayers.

I would take him if I could. He has captured my heart. Sweet, sweet peter.

Peter & one of his friends sporting our sunglasses.

The Beautiful Game

July 24, 2010

Ubuntu is an African concept that means, "I am because we are." Today was an embodiment of Ubuntu.

I will never forget today. it began by witnessing the slaughter of four goats. I cannot believe how easily the fur pulls away from the skin. The Masaii donated the goats for the Ubuntu celebration. The tribesman who oversaw the slaughter was an artist - plain and simple.

As Ken, Charles, Sam & I walked back toward CTC on the main road through town, we could see that a respectable crowd had gathered. As we drew nearer, my heart began to pound. There were Masaii and Turkana, children in every imaginable school uniform, old & young, rich & poor. They were migrating from tree to tree along the main road through town. Each tree was being planted by a representative of a respective group. As the dirt was shoveled, the group in focus led the entire community in song. The pavement shook under the rhythm - two thousand feet from the thousand souls gathered. After each tree was secured, the community erupted with cheers, applause, and tribal praise sounds. It was as if the significance of those plants was already worth celebrating for future generations. Truckers stopped along their side of the road. Shop-owners suspended businesses. All were gathered to make a joyful noise. In the midst of great diversity was a deep sense of eternal unity. In a community where violence recently ruined lives, the bonds of unity were strengthened deeply today. It was a glimpse of the kingdom of God.

Masaii children performing a traditional dance.

The day continued with hours upon hours of presentations - skits, songs, dances, and tribal traditions - from all of the assembly gathered. It was the most marvelous display of color, movement, and song I have ever witnessed. The celebration was soaked in healthy pride.

The festivities ended with a soccer tournament. Erase whatever images you have of soccer from your Western experience. There was no grass, no lines on the field, no cones, and the goals were not regulation size. It was a plain of dust, raw talent, and the jerseys and new soccer balls we had carried in our suitcases from Austin. The CTC team received the jerseys earlier in the afternoon and erupted into a chorus of "Ole! Ole! Ole!" ala World Cup. They had clearly been given a jolt from the new uniforms as they won the first round of the tournament.

As the sun set, CTC went on to face the team from the IDP (Internally Displaced Persons) Camp in the championship game. We ended regulation time and entered into penalty shots. You must realize that cheering section of hundreds had now lined the perimeter of the goal. Following each shot, the victorious team (shooter or goalie) fled to congratulate the player. After the first round of five penalty shots each, the game was still tied 0-0. As we entered the second round of penalty shots, CTC captured the tournament 2-1. It was pure mayhem. The team and fans took off running, and rounded the perimeter of the field.

Finally, they cruised back to the feet of Jeremiah. Each of the young men wearing a jersey hit their knees. The fans were still pressed in around them - young and old admiring their new heros. I assumed kneeling in prayer was standard post-game ritual for this team. I later found out the team was sure that the jerseys were blessed. They wanted Pastor Jeremiah to offer a prayer giving thanks for their success and their new blessed uniforms. I'm certain it was those young men who blessed our lives today.

God is good,

All the time.

All the time,

God is good.

Wisdom

July 23, 2010

We spent the afternoon at St. Paul's University. We had the privilege of sitting down with Esther Mambo, Vice Chancellor and Professor. The following are excerpts, as best I was able to recall them later that night, from our conversation with her.

Q: What are the struggles you have personally faced as an educated woman in your culture?

Esther: Young

"Being single, which is a calling."

Female

Educated

"I am too tall for the box they would like to put me in."

"Each of these things has become a blessing because I am doing ministry in the context God called me to."

"I spoke at a conference of 800-900 Mums in Western Kenya - representing six Dioceses. The Bishops from each Diocese decided to come and they were prominently displayed on the dais. All of these women were running around to take care of them because that's the way Bishops are treated here. Each of them got up to speak and said something about the end of the Anglican Church in the US. They all had something bad to say But I found that interesting, because the first chance they get, they will travel to the West. SO anyways, I am the last speaker an the whole time I am wondering what I am going to say because this is supposed to be a conference about women in the church. So I get up and begin by saying how proud I am to be a part of the Anglican Church because we have a woman primate. First women deacons, then, priests, bishops, and now a Primate. The whole room applauded. I knew I was in trouble then! I asked the women to enter into a conversation with me. I wanted to talk with them about what issues they had with the church. There were microphones spread around the room and I asked some people to record the answers with markers on chart paper. So women started sharing, "wife-beating." "Polygamy." And they went on. After all the Bishops had shared about the evil West, not one woman who spoke up shared their concerns. I want you to know that just because the people in power believe something, that does not mean they have listened to their people.

One courageous woman articulated a question directly to the bishops, "I want to know why it is okay for priests and bishops to spend money we work so hard to earn on prostitution and extra wives." The room was still. I told the bishops, "She asked you, not me." Each bishop down the line did not make a single comment until the very last one on the stage. He finally responded, "I don't know." At least he had the decency to say something. He was the only one who returned to the subsequent sessions.

Q: What gives you inner strength?

Esther: My grandmother, who raised me to believe I can be exactly who I am. Knowing that I am created in the image and likeness of God as a child of God.

Q: What gives you your drive?

Esther: Knowing that I might transform just a few lives.

There were many things about our conversation with Esther that will stick with me. However, I was most struck by a challenge that she articulated throughout her personal and communal narrative. As Christians and as Africans, how can we be defined by membership in the Body of Christ before our tribe, clan or nationality?

Sho-Sho Shambas

July 22, 2010

Today was another beautiful day - though the coolest so far in Maai Mahiu. We spent the majority of the day working in the Shamba (garden) with the Sho-shos (grandmothers). The grandmothers have partnered with CTC because their children died from AIDS. They are now the sole care-takers for their grand-children. Don't think of your grandmother though, because that's probably not the right image. Think of your mom - and that's probably closer to the physical appearance of these women. The average age of the grandmothers is 40-50, and they are physically indefatigable. They were delightful and patient with us as we fumbled to till the soil and plant the vegetables.

Rocky, the CTC manager of the gardens, has a beautiful sense of humor and honest passion for his work. I feel so fortunate to know him, Charles, the Sho-shos, the Community Health Workers (who showed us around the IDP camps), Muhammed (a resident we met yesterday from the IDP Camp), Dominique (the general manager at our hotel,) Paris (a young woman who works at the hotel). CTC is a family and I'm privileged to be a part of it.

Rocky & Charles

Paris & our dinner!

Threes

July 21, 2010

This morning I was jolted out of sleep around 5:30AM to the sounds of an angry mob. What sounded like a large crowd of males were banging on the gate of our hotel. I had no idea what was happening because I don't speak Swahili. A lot of things went through my head - the most prevalent emotion being fear. A large rock was hurled at my door not long after I crawled out of my misquote net. I attempted to lock myself in the my bathroom, only to discover that the lock didn't work. I hadn't felt at all unsafe up to this point, so it never occurred to me to check the lock. As it turns out, the men had chased a thief out of town and thought he jumped into the hotel grounds. They didn't catch him that we're aware of, but they probably would have killed him if so. The mob dissipated, and we were all fine, albeit quite shaken.

As you might imagine, we had lots of conversation about what had happened throughout the day. I was really struck to think about what might have happened in the states in a similar situation. My best guess is that there would have been a great deal of unnecessary gunfire and consequent injuries. The men with rocks and machetes were merely enforcing their community norms. Stealing is not tolerated, plain and simple. In a town where the police are corrupt, it's up to the people to take care of one another. I can't imagine living in a society like that. I'll take rocks and machete-wielding self-regulations within a community any day - though that's admittedly not what crossed my mind at the time.

We spent the rest of the day at a camp for Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs). In the presidential election of 2007, a Prime Minister and President of different tribes were elected. There was a great deal of resulting violence. Mainly, persons of the Kikou tribe were chased out of their homes, which were burned to the ground. Entire families were killed. People fled to community churches for safety, which were consequently torched. Around 3,000 people were killed, but over 30,000 were displaced. Some still do not know the whereabouts of family members today- 3 years later. 3 years later, many are still living in tents. Today, many of those families welcomed us into their humble tents and homes. They graciously shared their stories. The way that many of us would tell of our family heritage, our history as a recovering addict, or our triumphs as an athlete, each and every person whom we encountered today introduced themselves in the following manner, "My name is Sylvia, and I am an IDP." 3 years later, men and women who use to run their own businesses still have no source of income. In 3 years I earned a masters degree and went through a holistic self-transformation. I cannot imagine simply putting my life on hold for 3 years. No one should be treated that way. I am overwhelmed by the need. I am overwhelmed by the suffering. I am overwhelmed by the injustice. Yet, I am also overwhelmed by their hope, their perseverance, their joy, their hospitality, and their spirit.

God, give me the grace to tell their story.