Partnership

Preaching with some interpretation in
Kimeru.

watching the children's choir sing and dance.

signing, lighting the candle, making the thing official.

I preached this past Sunday at Kithino Parish P.C.E.A. near Nkobo. Oswego Presbyterian Church, my home church, has begun a partnership and this (eight hour) service was the kickoff here. It was a great experience to have right before leaving.

Scripture Focus: John 15:1-5, 12-17

Romans 12:1-18

For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another.

Sermon July 18, 2010

Good morning everyone. Bwanasifiwe. My name is Deanna Drake. However, I have earned some new names since being in Kenya. It’s up to you to choose your favorite: in KiMeru I’ve been called Kendi or McKenna, and by a parish in Kiambu, I was named Wanjiku. In fact, I think I’m starting to like my other names more than my original…

I have been in Kenya since late September of last year, and I’m sad to say that this is my last weekend. I have to get through this sermon, so I can’t dwell on the sadness too much. But the the truth is, I’ve had a wonderful experience here. I have been working through the P.C.E.A. in connection with the P.C.U.S.A. as a Young Adult Volunteer. Mostly, I have been teaching in Meru Town in a Primary School known as Meru Junior. I must confess, though, I have probably learned more from my pupils than they have from me. I tried my best teaching them English, C.R.E. and some creative arts.

I bring you greetings from my home church in the U.S., which is the Oswego Presbyterian Church. It is a rapidly growing congregation (I look at the pictures and I hardly recognize anyone anymore!) south of the big (Obama’s) city of Chicago. But I’ll let you hear from them, as I read you their letter addressed to Kithino Parish.

Letter is Read:

From God’s people at Oswego Presbyterian Church, servants of Christ Jesus, claimed by him as his own, along with all people everywhere who invoke the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to the saints and faithful brothers and sisters in Christ in Kithino Parish, Kenya.

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God the Father and our Lord Jesus Christ!

We are a congregation of about 700 in Oswego, Illinois 50 miles west of Chicago where city meets farmland. Our members are people of all ages and all walks of life; teachers, truck drivers, farmers, engineers, librarians, janitors, accountants, business men and women, mothers and fathers. We have more than 300 children among our member families and we take very seriously the baptismal vows to nurture them in the Love of Christ. We are a committed congregation of believers on a journey with Christ to serve our community and the world.

Our beliefs about God and our place in the world are summarized in the “Brief Statement of Faith of the Presbyterian Church USA” which we recite often in church services. As we begin our journey together in this new “partnership” we would like to share with you these words taken from the “Brief Statement of Faith” (shared later in the service):

In our congregation we say the following almost every Sunday:

One: God is good.

All: All the time.

One: All the time.

All: God is good.

It is said several times until everyone is participating. On July 18 at our worship services we will be saying this as we think of you and our new partnership. We invite you to do the same.

We are grateful that Deanna, one of our own, can be with you in Kenya as you celebrate the beginning of our partnership and we rejoice that she will soon be celebrating with us.

We look forward to sharing our faith with you and to supporting one another in our walk with Christ.

Pastor Terry Hennesy

Pastor Jack Lilley

Elder Ted Mathewson

The People of Oswego Presbyterian Church

I am sure that they look forward to receiving your greetings as well…

I would like to focus today on this partnership. First of all, know that our congregation is very enthusiastic about the start of this relationship and is looking forward to the dreams we can create together. I’d like to talk this morning about some of what partnership has meant for me over this year living in Kenya- partnership with my brothers and sisters in Christ in this community, as well as how these relationships have strengthened my partnership with God.

The first, and probably the most important lesson I learned in Kenya was the priority of tea time. I didn’t understand because we don’t have scheduled tea breaks in the U.S. In fact, we don’t drink a lot of tea. Sometimes coffee breaks, but that is usually in order to infuse ourselves with caffeine for energy to rush off to the next thing. Tea and more specifically TIME for tea in Kenya, I learned, is sacred. In the beginning, I kept to my American sensibilities and rushed to and from events, worrying about being late and not accomplishing “enough.” It took quite a good number of patient friends to slow me down and make me understand that the process is: first, you take tea. Then, you can go about your business. And what you’re really saying here is that: first, it’s important to build a relationship. And then, everything else comes after. Our dear Reverend here was a great example when, this morning, he had to make sure I arrived early enough to have a cup of tea with him, he said, “it wouldn’t be right, otherwise.”

And it’s true, having tea, taking the time out for relationship is what makes us “right” with each other. Probably my best times in Kenya have been shared over several (sweet) cups of tea. It’s made me understand in a very real way, that at the end of the day, we belong to each other and to God. You see, because it’s God that meets us there during our tea break…God in fact is probably in that tea, because He/She is the force that is always working to bring us together- to be unified, share ideas, and gather strength from each other.

Can I tell you about the time I tried to make tea? It took my staff at school a good 6 months to trust me with the very important task, and I really felt honored when instead of serving me tea, I was given the opportunity to serve them back. So, we were at a sort of campsite on a school tour with those big sufurias (cooking pots) and firewood. Everything was set up when the matron went to bathe, leaving me in charge. So, I’m watching this milk. And I’m watching it… for about 45 minutes, I’ve been watching it. The matron came back from her shower, empty teacup in hand only to find…this milk has not boiled. Turned out…you don’t only have to watch the milk, but you might want to also keep an eye on the firewood and make sure that it doesn’t go out. With her help, 10 mins later the fire was ablaze and hot tea was served.

It made me think- sometimes we are like this- waiting and waiting- almost giving up because the things we hope for are not coming true. It takes an opening, then, in our hearts to others and to God to see anew what the possible solutions are to our challenges. God speaks through us. We are the vehicles, and yet it’s not always easy to listen. You heard the scripture verse about the body- it’s saying basically- we cannot function without each other. More than anything, I think partnership is first and foremost about this relationship building. And I have learned many skills from living here on this subject. I hope back home they’ll learn to like tea. I’ll do my best not to let the milk just sit in the pot…

The second thing I think partnership is about is growing together in faith. I took a brief trip to the coast in April (wow it was hot!), and I remember very clearly seeing Baobob trees for the first time. They really paint the landscape in a beautiful way. Now, we read the verse in John about the vine and the branches. But as soon as I saw those trees, I thought, God’s no vine, God is definitely a baobob trunk. It’s amazing to see these mighty and old trees thrive in an environment that is so harsh. My small research on these species revealed that one of their survival tactics is that they store water in their mighty trunks for the dry seasons. And I thought, that’s kind of like God- growing wider and wider everyday, having us cared for and loved when we need it most. What I like about the John passage is not so much even the first part of the passage, but the second part that was read. Because in the first part, John talks about how we can accomplish nothing apart from God, and in the second part, he talks about how these branches extend directly to each other. “love one another as I have loved you,” and also, “for now I call you friends.” Apart from God, we can do nothing, and apart from each other, we really can do nothing. God has given us each other so that we can grow together like the baobob- when a dry season comes in our lives, we have something to offer one another.

One way I’ve grown in faith by being here is: dancing. You will possibly be shocked to know that in the U.S.A. Presbyterian Church, there is hardly any dancing done during the service. Imagine! In fact, it’s hard to get most congregations to even clap, let alone on the right rhythms. I have to admit that letting my feet move and my arms sway in the pews made me a bit uncomfortable at first, but now I’m more afraid that when I go home, people will look at me strange when I have the urge to move during the service. I’ll promise to try and get people in the U.S. to dance, but that might take a lot more growing... I could even justify it by something my pastor has often said, that heaven will be like one big “dance with the divine.” Why not start now? says the church in Kenya…

One time, the director of my school took me to Isiolo, where we have our school farm. My skills in farming are very minimal, but I was anxious to learn. However, when they handed me a panga (machete), I had a look on my face of extreme confusion. What I didn’t know then, which I know now, is that a panga is a tool of magical powers- it can almost do anything. On the shamba (farm), it loosens the dirt, digs the dirt, plants the seed and covers the seed all in one fell swoop. All the other workers had a great time laughing at this mzungu (white person) taking 5 minutes to plant 5 seeds. But I worked, and eventually even earned myself a blister from my panga hand. But I tell you the truth- those seeds would never have grown without the careful guidance of my farming teachers. Likewise, there will be no harvest if we do not recognize the need, God calling us, to reach out to one another. There are things that we can definitely learn from each other. So we will plant these seeds together and see what will grow.

The third thing I think partnership is about is building a wider community of Christ’s love in the world. Now this word, “community,” is sort of a foreign word for Americans. We come from the land of individualism, and “do it yourself” attitudes. These attitudes were highly challenged for me while I’ve been in Kenya. I have about 10 Mamas where I live. I start to walk out my door, “where are you going?” “To the market…” “Not wearing that, carrying that bag you’re not…” say my Kenyan mothers. I had a dress made in Kenya and I found a new Mama there in the tailor who refused to make me any dress without something covering the shoulders. My mamas laughed all year at how I had peeled potatoes… (Americans can’t do all cooking with one knife like you amazing women here). I rolled my eyes like any child would, but the thing was, I was never left alone in their criticisms. They remarked on my going to the market, but then they accompanied me. My dress made was beautiful and I can wear it here. I may not know how to peel potatoes efficiently, but now I know how to make a sweet mokimo (traditional kenyan dish with potatoes) because my mamas would help me cook the meals. I tried to do things my way, the solo way, but found that the togetherness always did turn out to be the better way to do things. Americans try very hard, in general, not to need anything from anybody. But if we’re all really honest with each other, we’re all in need…and for this need…God gives us each other.

The first Kenyan wedding that I ever attended was actually a wedding that I had a privilege to participate in as a bridesmaid. It was a great honor to be in on the whole process from start to finish. I loved how the community came together, old and young couples, to offer advice and support to the couple just starting off. But I became really nervous on that day. It had rained that last night and the ground was still wet. As I started to process out with the other maids, I felt my high heels sticking into the mud. I swear, it was by God’s grace that I did not fall on my face that day. I was nervous because the bride had to walk the same path and her dress was much whiter and bigger than ours were. But as I frantically looked back to see how she was faring, I was put totally at ease when she was carried. All of her mamas were there making sure not one hem of her dress touched the ground. Just like this, God gives us each other to be carried at times, and other times to be carried through and over life’s challenges.

I came with 5 other volunteers in my program. They are serving in different parts of the country, but we get together a few times over the year for retreats and reflections. Our final retreat was to the rural western part of the country where we performed some work in a public school. There, we painted a mural on the wall of Std. 1. However, it almost fell apart. We had very limited time and supplies, so we were almost to leave a half drawn, half painted, one-coated job done when our hero from that community stepped out of the darkness. It turned out that he was a professional painter and was able to guide us on when to use which paints and which chemicals to use, etc. There’s no way that mural could have been finished without him. Left to our own devices, our rainbow was blending into a nice brown color. See, God sees the whole picture and we have but a small part… but He/She gives us each other in order to see a brighter, more beautiful, more complete picture.

Thank you all once again for your very warm welcome this morning on behalf of myself and my congregation back home. I have learned and grown so much by living here, and as we continue on in partnership, let us have a two way street where we build a relationship, grow together in faith and make Christ’s community of love become wider in the world. Amen.

Tim Mana Kinda

Kingly lions being lazy in the Mara.

The mural we painted in the classroom.

Our goat, and our dinner...

For our final retreat, we headed to the western part of the country for a combination R &R with service. First, the R & R in the beautiful savannah of the Masai Mara National Reserve (it turns into the Serengetti once you reach the Tanzanian border). We stayed in a cozy lodge and spent our time eating, lounging or going on game drives for good photo opps of animals. This park had them all, and we were beside ourselves to see families of giraffes, elephants, lions and many more. My highlights were seeing the leopard (completing my sighting of the Big 5), and witnessing the start of the great wildebeest migration. There must have been thousands (millions?) of these strange looking animals, taking breaks to graze and then galloping single-file to where they thought the grass was greener. A great place to chill with my fellow YAVs and reflect on the year, counting our blessings for being in such a beautiful setting.

I'm glad these couple days on the Mara were coupled with the service aspect. Though safaris are incredible experiences, they definitely don't incapsulate the whold of Kenya that I love. Our visit to the village did do just that. During our orientation to Kenya in September, we had the privlege of meeting Professor Ogutu, who gave us a lecture at that time on "tribal identity and spirituality." He represented his own Luo tribe very strongly and proudly as he was the leader of their council of elders. He invited us to come to his home village, maybe he would even introduce us to Sara Obama, he had said...

And so, we came full circle. His whole (polygamous and huge) family came to welcome us to our new home. It was my coordinator, Rev. Phyllis', first time to this village. Her husband is a Luo, and so this home had even more emotional resonance with her. She was ushered into the hut of Ogutu's mother and we all said a blessing for this new and warm sense of place. She stayed in her hut, while the rest of us snuggled in nearby shelters, snuggling on mattresses.

When the Professor gathered us for the big meal, he taught us some of his mother tongue- NjaLuo. The first phrase that I'll always try to remember, "Tim Mana Kinda" roughly translates to "we will persevere." He explained that it's a common phrase used to reassure people that things will be ok in times of struggle. He congratulated us for coming this far in our year and how we Tim Mana Kinda- d our way through...

This theme continued through the rest of our retreat starting first thing in the morning the next day. The killing of goats in Kenya for eating is a ritual sacrifice signifying both celebration and coming of age. Since we were also doing both, it was our director's idea to have us know exactly where our food comes from. As we watched our goat (who had been with us for the whole of the previous day) lay down submissively for the slaughter, I was definitely filled with mixed emotions. My attitudes toward food have definitely been challenged this year, but this time, I felt something new. Being that the goat was a gift from this new community, I felt very blessed and grateful for this food, this animal's life, and for that people that provided it. I wondered what it would be like if that connection was secured with other things we ate...

Our service project was at a public primary school in this village. We painted a classroom, played with some kids, planted some trees, and had brought some gifts for the school. This public school was definitely a big contrast to the private one I teach at. The 1st grade class had about 80 pupils, 1/3 of which were orphans, we were told. They were squeezed into little bench desks, all sharing books and straining for a glance at the chalkboard. About half the students were without shoes. And yet, their passion for learning was clearly evident.

At the end of our day, the school had a sort of closing ceremony for us with recited poems, of course dancing and speeches. I even gave an impromptu speech of my own to some of the older girls who we had given the gifts of personal hygiene items to. The use of "Tim Mana Kinda" definitely came in handy here as most girls miss out on a lot of school once they hit puberty, and thus fall behind and may even drop out. Our gift would last them a few months, but then what? The spirit of Tim Mana Kind would have to carry them through...and for those without shoes, those without books, those without money for medicine, those without parents... you could see and feel the resilience and spirit of perseverance...

So yes, we YAVs have just about made it through the year with some different sets of challenges, but of course we've gained so much in the process by sharing some of these struggles, learning some of theirs and the way they overcome, but perhaps mostly by learning to listen to our new friends whispering "tim mana kinda" in our ears.

PS: We also did indeed meet Grandma Sara Obama. The mama that raised our president's dad. I read Dreams of my Father last year, so it was definitely cool to see this setting in real life. It was a very pleasant visit. We all sat under the huge mango trees in her home and asked her a few questions. We donated some items for the orphanage she runs, and she thanked us with some sodas. She's a very tough, cool lady. My other NjaLuo phrase that I learned was "ero komono." They use it in place of "thank you," but it actually means more along the lines of, "you did what you're supposed to do." She had this attitude toward Barack becoming president, "he did what he was meant to do..." she had said.

A Day in the Life

Me with my 6th graders in our classroom.

The year is winding up. Thought I would share a typical day with you. I'm about to head out on our final YAV retreat. Upon return, only one month left!

• 6 am- Wake up- it’s still dark. If motivated, go for a short sunrise walk to take in the colors framed by mountains. It’s usually pretty chilly, but refreshing.

• Coffee. Breakfast- usually complimented by some delicious fresh fruit (pineapple, papaya, mango, oranges, tangerines, sweet bananas...).

• 7:30 am- morning assembly. The whole school (about 150 of us) classes 1-8 and the nursery school gathers for a short worship service. Singing and dancing to wake us up, a word from the Bible made by the director, and announcements for the day. Exceptions are on Thursdays and Fridays. Thursdays are our music competitions where all the classes compete with their best songs and dances. Fridays we have the Scouts lead us in a processional for the flag raising.

• 8:40-11:10 am- morning classes. On any given day, I teach 6-8 thirty-five minute lessons. I teach English to 5th and 6th graders (though all subjects are also taught in English), C.R.E. (Christian Religious Education) to 4th and 7th graders, and “Creative Arts” (music, drama, visual arts and crafts) to 4th-7th graders. Occaisonally P.E. or whatever else they want to throw my direction.

• 11:10-11:40 am- Teat Time. Religiously observed by both students and teachers. We usually hang out in the teacher’s lounge and drink our tea away from the pupils and argue about some “topic of the day.”

• 1:00-2:00 pm- lunch time. Kids are not picky eaters. They are either served Pilau (a spiced rice, meat and onion combo), Githeri (corn and beans mixed with whatever vegetable is on hand), or Rice and Beans. Sometimes, the national food, Ugali- corn flour and water cooked together to make a sort of solid that definitely sticks with you- eaten with Sukuma Wiki- cooked greens.

• 2:00-4:20 pm- afternoon classes.

• 4:20-5:00 pm- extracurricular activities. Monday and Fridays: Games in the field (usually football/soccer or “net”ball- similar to basketball). Tuesdays: Debate- classes debate a different topic each week for good practice in English. Wednesdays: Christian Union fellowship- a worship service for the whole school. Thursdays: clubs (I sometimes help out with music and drama club or Journalism club). Our biggest and most popular club is the Scouts who usually practice marching at this time.

• 5:00-6:00 pm- day scholars go home to their parents, the boarding pupils grab their buckets to fetch water and take their baths. I usually run to the market to fetch whatever I’m cooking myself for dinner (since it's been cold, I have become the SOUP master- delicious with all the available fresh veggies and spices).

• 6:00-7:00 pm- boarders eat dinner together after a short devotion. I sit on my porch and watch the sunset.

• 7:00-9:30 pm- boarding students attend night preps where they watch the evening news together and then work on their homework. They get extra assistance from their teachers. I sometimes attend these sessions. Otherwise, I’m at home grading papers, planning lessons, cooking…

• 10:00 pm- we call it a day.

The waterfalls in Meru. About a 10 min walk away from my house.

Women in the Kitchen

I remember during my YAV interview being asked a specific question, “How will you handle the difference of women’s roles in Kenya?" My interviewer, and now my program coordinator, went on to tell a story about different cultural perspectives on this issue from her time touring Africa with Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Since she was a woman, she was many times delegated to “kitchen duty” when they went to new venues. Now, Rev. Phyllis Byrd-Ochilo is definitely someone you do want in your kitchen (YAVs live for the times when she cooks for us), but she is definitely not one to take a back-seat to any man. She explained how at first, she saw this as an insult, like they thought that’s all women were capable of doing. It took her awhile to see that serving in the kitchen was actually an honor that they granted her, not something that they were limiting her to. By letting her into the kitchen, she was given access to the communi

My kitchen initiation didn’t come as fast as Phyllis’s. In fact, I had the opposite problem when I first moved here. No one would let me in the kitchen. It was always, sit here, drink this tea, while I prepare the supper. Always a guest. While this hospitality gesture was more than nice, it became frustrating that people were always serving me, when I had come under the guise of a “service” program. This is obvious lesson #1: one always seems to receive much more than they are given. It’s hard to take in, though, no matter what. Maybe the third month in, I was allowed to wash some dishes. That felt nice.

But this month, my ninth month here, I was asked and given full responsibility over: preparing the tea. A big deal, and actually a big honor, considering how essential the morning (or any time of day) cup of tea is. I had a minor panic attack at the responsibility. I usually take the easy way out with the tea bags mixed with milk and sugar, but they wanted the real deal: milk, tea leaves, using the sieve. I did not fail, though I made a mess. As all of us women took tea in the kitchen (instead of the living room/dining room/ “visitor’s room”), I was able to see clearly how far we had come.

You see, the kitchen is sort of where the magic happens. This time, we had four of us women preparing for a big family meal. The director of the school’s family has sort of a round-robin fundraiser where the host of the meal gets the family’s funds donated to them that month to help them in their educational/vocational/professional pursuits. We cooked and we cooked. Starting Friday night and ending Saturday afternoon… And we talked. And we laughed. We took several tea breaks. They chuckled at the way I sliced the cabbage. I was amazed that they never seemed to tear up while cutting onions. I learned their secret cooking tips, and was privy to family information I had never been exposed to previously. They praised me by saying I was now a “real African lady.” And I realized that I could not have earned this title any sooner. If I had some of those responsibilities in the beginning, I would have just been doing “work”- giving to them, performing service. I needed to first learn from them. “Slowly by slowly” (kiswahili, “pole pole”), by letting them know I was open to assisting where possible, they let me in. Eventually, it wasn’t me helping them or them serving me, but us be-ing in the kitchen together, enjoying each other’s company. We finally hit that sweet space of mutually benefiting from each other.

I think this is the main reason why I have been enjoying Kenya so much more in my final lap. No longer am I a foreigner, the mzungu, or that American. I’m Teacher (mwalimu) Deanna, or even Kendi in the Kimeru tongue and Wanjiku in the Kikuyu language. I feel connected, part of their culture. Looking back to YAV orientation, I remember talking about the different perspective changes we would go through. First, you would start out in “homeland”- which is when you compare everything to home, are still thinking in that direction. Then, there’s “wonderland,” where everything is new, exciting and amazing. Some naivete in this stage. What follows, I would insert, is “wander-land,” where you start to doubt your reasons for being there, when you question both cultures equally and are kind of lost. Then, finally you return home, but not the same one- to “new-found land.” I think I have arrived here at long last. It’s home, for all its ups and downs, quirks and good qualities.

As of late, I am really busy teaching lots of classes, working on special projects, heading up meetings, and cooking for family guests on a regular basis. If I was still in wonderland, I would have been doing all this for people, to help them. Now in new-foundland, it is work done to contribute to the community, to do my part as others are doing theirs. They ask here many times in public speaking, “are we together?” as a sort of “are you listening?” But now I can see what that question is really getting at- it’s extremely important to be- together.

Endangered Beauty

“I Scarce Can Take It In,” the line from that beautiful old hymn, “How Great Thou Art,” keeps running through my head. As soon as one leaves the bustling streets of Nairobi, there is almost an inescapable connection to nature in this country. There’s the beautiful slopes of Mt. Kenya, the rolling foothills that have a range of their own (which is where I live), pastoral deserts in the northeast, the 2nd largest freshwater lake in the world in the west, a breathtaking coastline in the east, and the vegetation is usually lush and green wherever you go: tea plantations, rice fields, banana trees, flowers everywhere. One is surrounded.

I was especially overcome by it when I went on a field trip with my students to Hell’s Gate and Mt Kenya National Parks. Hell’s Gate, so named for its geothermal hot springs and volcanic rock formations, provided us with a terrific hike. Through rocky streams, narrow crevices, and slippery foot holdings, we made our way to the springs (where you can boil an egg in the water) and the obsidian caves. We couldn’t imagine this being anyone’s hell when we made our final ascent and took in the gorgeous view.

At the foot of Mt. Kenya was an educational center called the William Holden Wildlife Reserve. I was proud that this effort is in partnership with a center in the states founded by the above named man who was a documentary film-maker who couldn’t take in the beauty of the wildlife without also doing something to preserve it. It serves as a wildlife refuge for rare species, among these: the white rhino, the water bongo (a type of gazelle with a unique coat that poacher’s like), and the albino zebras. We spotted all of these on our game drive. Possibly more impressive was the center itself. It stood as an example of sustainability- as in, nothing used there went to waste. They had solar panels for electricity, bio-fuel for gas, an organic garden for food, composting everywhere… In fact our human waste didn’t even go to waste, as it was converted to make fertilizer for the flower garden! The kids also learned how to set up similar projects in their own schools. I’m excited that we’re putting what we learned into practice this week by starting a charcoal making project using all organic materials.

All the beauty, but I can’t help but feel a tension in Kenya currently: between development and tradition, consumerism and conservation. As Kenya is “coming up” as they say, there is question over whether its culture and environment will be preserved, or whether the propensity towards materialism will reign. The education, then, at the center, was for the children to take stock and appreciate what they have so as to do their part to protect it. Unfortunately, we don’t usually appreciate what we have until its gone. It’ll be up to these kids to have a voice.

Our guide throughout the center talked about interconnection, a new English word for most of the students: that our actions in one place inevitably affect another. I wish our country would talk more about that concept, and admit our sins of making countries suffer around the world due to our consumption. And I hope and pray that the generally sustainable ways of life here (like growing your own food in organic gardens, walking most places) will remain and not be tempted towards our example. Nature is a powerful force that has the ability to truly unify us. We can all experience it. Hear God talking…if we will only listen…

I’m definitely feeling a clock winding down to the end of my time here. So much is special and different, that I’m doing my best to stay rooted. Taking walks during sunrise and sunset has definitely helped. Simply “Be-ing” as this YAV program continually reinforces is a tremendous gift when it’s in such awe-inspiring beauty.

A Communal Kenyan Wedding

Myself and new bf. Wish he had brought a ring for me.

Kageni getting carried into her vehicle by female fam members.

The bride having a pre-wedding cup of tea.

I had such a wonderful time this past weekend in my first Kenyan wedding experience. Mostly, I felt honored to be in the wedding as a bride’s maid and got to really soak up the experience from beginning to end. I was reminded over and over again that it’s not about the parents, the big cake, the dresses, the suits, the presents, or even the married couple to-be, but it was about…the community. Since we don’t really have this sense when it comes to weddings (or many other things), I was very curious how they were going to pull it off. But I am now a believer in this alternative approach to the big event…

The process, for many of us involved, started about four months prior to the wedding. This time when I was whisked away without knowing where I was going, I was taken to a local pub where “the elders” had gathered. The tradition stems from “the old times” when the tribal elders would gather around the fire and either approve or disprove of a marriage proposal (as in, the wannabe husband would propose to the tribal elders eons before proposing to the woman he wanted to marry- in fact after the father agreed as well, she didn’t have much say in it at all, but I’ll leave that for now…). Instead of cain licquor, Tusker beers were passed around in plenty, and the overall tone was one of mutual.merriment. At some point, Njugi and Kageni got around to the “official” announcement of their engagement and desire to start planning the wedding. Cheers were passed around, and then things became a bit serious when the elders started to offer their advice to the young couple. My Kiswahili is still shamefully minimal, but even if it was up to par, I would have no hope of following their mother tongue of Kikuyu. My friend that translated parts told me generally that they had wished them well, that marriage was blessed but not an easy road, but that if they needed any support, the community would offer it to them in any way they could…

From there, it was down to business. Kageni and Njugi gathered up about 20 of their peers to form their “wedding committee.” Every Sunday afternoon for those few months we became their wedding planners and financiers. The tasks of nailing down the photographer, decorater, caterer, etc was all delegated, and everyone had pledged a certain amount to cover the cost. A daunting task became light amongst all of us. After a few meetings, all that was left was to brace ourselves for the big day. Here, they have very open invitation weddings. As in, you are allowed to invite friends of friends even if they don’t know the couple. The event is also announced to the whole church. There is no RSVP involved, so one never knows how many people will show up. They prepare for the whole village.

The week before the big day, about every big reservation was changed at the last minute due to factors beyond anyone’s control. Miraculously, it all got sorted out in time. The morning of the wedding was something I thoroughly enjoyed- about 60 women crammed into Kageni’s mother’s home all dressing and prepping. It was delightfully chaotic with one bathroom and one mirror. Having spent a good five hours on her hair the previous night, Kageni was mostly set. While the groom’s family was negotiating the final dowry details with the bride’s father, we kept the bride’s nerves at bay by dancing, singing and taking pictures. Our singing was soon echoed by all of the women outside, signaling that the negotiations were through. We all lined up, escorting our bride out of Kageni’s house. Our heels kept sinking into the wet ground from the rains the night before and I was horrified how Kageni was going to get into her vehicle with that long white dress… My fears were quelled when I looked behind and realized she was being carried by about 20 of the singing and dancing women.

After a slow ride around town in the flowered vehicles with plenty of honking and whistling, we pulled into the church about noon, two hours after the ceremony was supposed to begin. Of course, no part of the ceremony went as planned. It was hilarious how random people from the congregation kept passing the pastors notes to indicate that they wanted to make a speech or sing a song. Somehow, the pastors were able to keep up. The tear-jerking things that are the same everywhere held emotional weight here as well. The groom fumbled his vows in an endearing way. The bride had at least one big tear, and I’m sure I had a few of my own. After the two hour ceremony, we continued to the reception. We sang and danced to the food line, sang and danced to receive the gifts, to pass out the cake… I didn’t even notice time passing and before I knew it, all the guests were clearing out around 5 pm. We had a bit of time to relax, change clothes, and all the young people sorted themselves out for the big after party, which more or less resembles the reception that you find in the music (even the appropriately cheesy kind), drinks, the fun…

It was a great day all around, and I really did feel like it brought everyone, not just the bride and groom, together.

May God Agree With Us: A Samburu Prayer

Morning walk, Meru.

Mountain sunrise.

Yes, my God, you will save us:

Yes, my God, you will guide us,

and your thoughts will be with us night and day.

Grant us to remain a long time,

like the great wing of rain, like the long rains.

Give us the fragrance of a purifying branch.

Be the support of our burdens,

and may they always be untied,

the shells of fertility and mothers and children.

God be our safeguard, also where the shepherds are.

God, sky, with stars at your sides

and the moon in the middle of your stomach,

Morning of my God that is rising,

Come and hit us with your waters,

And God said, “all right.”

-Samburu, Kenya, from an African Prayer Book by Desmond Tutu