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.

Malika Mums & Kids

Two of the Malika kids and some friends, including Ruth (seated closest to me.)

July 19, 2010

Today we received a thorough tour of the town of Maai Mahiu from our fearless guide, Charles. We walked the neighborhoods, somewhat overwhelmed and silenced by the amount of trash. It was difficult to understand why so many children were not in school. Yet, also beautiful to receive simple, yet enthusiastic greetings from each and everyone, "How are you? How are you?" We visited Ngea Primary school, one of the poorest in the region, where we spent time in the garden later that week. We caught a glimpse of CTC's gardens throughout the community.

We also toured the CTC headquarters, learning more about each of their primary initiatives. We met the Malika mums, meaning "angel moms." These women are the mothers of the disabled children who go to school at CTC. Disabilities carry a huge stigma in Africa - even more so than other countries. A need rose up organically out of the community to have a place that is safe, an educational environment for the children, and a means of income for the mothers of these children. Currently, only children who can walk, or whose families can deliver them to CTC each day are able to attend school. Finding a way to meet the needs of those who are a few kilometers a way remains a huge priority for CTC. Several times a week, Special Education Professionals travel to Maai Mahiu to train the teachers/caretakers in specialized care. Liz, the group leader for the mums, explained their activities to us. They make L.I.F.E.bags - essentially what you would think of as non-plastic grocery bags - except they're beautiful. Each woman has a role in making each bag, and they rotate everyday. They make them in bulk or for individuals, but all the proceeds go directly to the mums to help support their families.

There are three main classrooms of Malika kids, "angel kids." The first classroom has children who are both non-verbal and do not have full control over their bodies. These are typically the children who have most recently joined CTC. The second classroom has both children who are verbal and children who are not. But it was also an amazing site to have Charles introduce the children to us and realize that they are all able to sit or stand - a feat which they were not able to accomplish a short time ago. The final classroom is full of some of the children whom we might consider "mainstream" in the US. They have more energy and spunk than most kids I've ever met! This group of Malika kids were soooo excited to show off for us. They sang us a few songs, "I wake up in the morning and I wash my face, I brush my teeth, I take a cup of tea, I go to school...", recited some scripture passages, and showed off their math skills on the chalk board. As we introduced ourselves, Charles quizzed the children as to who could remember our names. These children will pop up in the story again later in the week, but to say I was impressed would them would be a dramatic understatement. The main edict of the Malika program is, "Disability is not inability" - a lesson that I gather many of us could stand to be reminded of, no matter where we are.

I had to excuse myself from the room to get some fresh air before too long. The day had been a bit overwhelming, and seeing three classrooms full of children was about all I could handle. Charles came over to me on the bench and took my hand and offered a memorable question that he had heard from one of his systematic theology professors a while back, "Why did God choose to be glorified in children like this?"

Malika Mums dancing & performing on Ubuntu day (Saturday.) Jane, the woman pictured in the front, has a disabled daughter. But she lives at the IDP camp over 5 kilometers away, so she is unable to transport her daily. Jane is still involved as a Malika mum, in hopes that there will soon be a means for her daughter to come to school everyday.

God's Dancing Day

For the past twelve days, I embarked on a journey with the Community & Faith team to Maai Mahiu, Kenya through Comfort the Children International, CTC. While I did not take my lap top to blog every night, I did record my thoughts and experience the old fashioned way - a pen and paper, kids! The lessons I learned and stories I heard are much too important to keep to myself. One way I am trying to get the word out is by converting my journal entries into blog format. I traveled with a fabulous team of five others from Austin & Houston. Please realize that my reflections are just what I was able to see through my own lens. I hope this is just the beginning of many more conversations and trips to come.

July 18, 2010

Tonight is my first night in Maai Mahiu, Kenya. It is strange - I've journeyed so far, and yet i feel so at home. There is so little that actually separates humanity. The human condition is fundamentally universal. Yet we find so many ways to focus on the differences. It is a joy and a blessing to be able to focus on the beauty in humanity half way around the world.

After arriving at the Longernot Transit Hotel - where we will be staying all week - we took off into a rural portion of the Rift Valley. In the absolute middle of nowhere, we came upon a church building. Area tribes and churches had gathered under one roof to welcome the American visitors from CTC. Rarely have I experienced anything as pure. It was authentic songs of the soul. It was movement of the spirit and praise of God. One of the first songs they sang for us was about every person using the gifts they have been given from God. I traveled 9,000 miles and the first piece of scripture I heard was one that we've used so often at summer camp. God's presence is stunning.

We sat under a tree and had a feast that the women had been preparing for us all morning, Nyama Choma (roasted meat). The generosity of the Masai was apparent and deep. I spent the rest of the afternoon dancing with a little girl in a beautiful orange taffeta dress. Her smile was beautiful and her laugher intoxicating. As we were squatting and examining goats, she stood and said good-bye. Her mother had appeared on the horizon of the bush. How she knew she was there, I'll never know. My new friend took off running.

Later, Jeremiah, the Kenya director of CTC, explained how unique the village and the worship service was. Different tribes don't typically live and worship together, especially after post-election violence in 2007. Although tribal difference is the means by which it is described in Kenya, it was striking to me that we all find ways to separate ourselves from one another. I wonder why we do this. Because of a local rock quarry, people of all tribes have come together in this portion of the valley. As Jeremiah put it, "They have found a need for one another." I'm certain that it was God's dancing day!

The soundtrack running through my mind all day was an album new to me, Mumford & Sons'Sigh No More. The lyrics to "Awake My Soul" stuck with me throughout the day that was an overwhelmingly transcendent experience.

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes

I struggle to find any truth in your lies

And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know

This weakness I feel I must finally show

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all

But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall

Lend me your eyes I can change what you see

But your soul you must keep, totally free

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die

Where you invest your love, you invest your life

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die

Where you invest your love, you invest your life

Awake my soul, awake my soul

Awake my soul

You were made to meet your maker

Awake my soul, awake my soul

Awake my soul

You were made to meet your maker

You were made to meet your maker

(Sunset outside the Longernot Transit Hotel)

Penultimate Experience

Well, we're over half way through the week. The rain has not subsided, and fatigue is starting to set in. We took it easy this morning, and spent the afternoon working at the summer camp at Christ Church Cathedral in New Orleans. Many of our youth had already spent a day or two there this week, but we all got to go together this afternoon. It was a fantastic experience. Each of the youth had one, if not four, kids hanging on them at all times. They played games, spent time reading stories, taught karate, and sang songs. It was great fun!

Tonight we went back to St. Anna's Episcopal Church for their mid-week Eucharist. It was just as much fun as Sunday morning, and this time we got to share our experiences with our friends from Connecticut. Following the service, we were served dinner - delicious Nah'wlins red beans & rice - by the St. Anna's parish family. We also got to enjoy traditional New Orleans jazz by Doc Otis and the Junker Jazz Allstars. They were fantastic!

The emotional toll of a trip with such great intensity is starting to pile up. The youth are asking hard questions, not finding easy answers, and struggling with issues - personal and communal. None of this is bad - in fact, it's exactly what should be happening. But that doesn't mean it's not overwhelming. Each of us will come back changed. And we can't wait to share those experiences with you!

In the midst of tearful revelations, downpours, and challenging work - we've still laughed so hard we've cried every single day. It's ben an unforgettable week.

Tomorrow is our last full day of work. Then we're off to a final Cajun dinner, Zydaco dancing, and closing Eucharist. In the midst of packing, and trying to get things wrapped up, I won't have time to blog tomorrow night. But please know that we've had a wonderful trip. All is well. And we couldn't be more grateful for your love and support. Thank you, St. David's.

Goodnight, New Orleans!