The Kenyan Connection

Partnership

2010-07-21T06:28:00.000-07:00

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

2010-07-03T03:03:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-20T02:43:00.000-07:00

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

2010-06-14T08:40:00.000-07:00

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

2010-05-31T08:19:00.000-07:00

“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

2010-05-08T06:17:00.000-07:00

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

2010-04-25T23:58:00.000-07:00

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

Pictures...

2010-04-12T08:17:00.000-07:00

...can be found here. :)

Lost and Found

2010-04-12T06:41:00.000-07:00

When people are gone for a long period of time here, Kenyan friends and family generally greet you with, “Where have you been? You’ve been lost for long…” I haven’t looked it up, but I’m thinking maybe it’s a Kiswahili translation that comes out a little differently in English. I knew right where I was the whole time. I could point it out to you on a map, but this isn’t exactly what they’re talking about here. I wasn’t lost, myself, I was lost to them…the community notices the absence, and the question posed is one of concern and care.

It has made me question the literalness of their question, though. I think I have been feeling a little “lost” as of late in the sense that they mean. I’ve been lost in my own thoughts, mostly about my future. I’ve been lost from home (home) and family (family) for a long time now. But even as a grade school kid, I realized that the best part of getting lost was finding a new way back… In this case, I’m being found…

I was in Kisumu, the western part of the country, for the National Drama Festivals when a kind stranger provided my first example. I was looking around in the evening our second night, hoping to find a cheap place in town to stay when I bumped into someone who immediately said, “you look lost…” I laughed inwardly, and said that I wasn’t lost, I was just looking for a place to stay, and did she know any? She mentioned her hotel and the price, which was too much for me, so I thanked her and thought I was moving on when she promptly told me I wouldn’t find a place at that hour and to please follow her… She whisked me away in her vehicle, found an empty room where she was staying, and decided to sponsor me for the night. I later learned that she worked for the ministry of education and also that she decided to sponsor me for the rest of the week- meals included, no charge. I didn’t really know how to take all the kindness in. My first reaction was to question it, “are you sure this is ok?” “I can really find a cheaper place to stay…” “Is it too much trouble…?” etc. She was a little taken aback by my questions and used the opportunity to tell me, “You see, though Africa is changing a lot, we still operate with a village mentality… when someone is lost and not from here, we have to take them into our village, to provide for them…It is our way.” I reluctantly accepted this new-found way.

Another example was when I “lost” my phone. I’d like to point out that clearly and unmistakably, my phone was stolen, but people over and over kept apologizing for my “phone getting lost…” As soon as it happened though, a search team quickly banded on a red hot hunt. My phone was never recovered, but someone let me borrow theirs until I replaced mine, and I made some friends along the way… The community was again taking on my loss as their own.

Things that I’m now losing as a result of my experience here is my tendency to bare loss on my own, or to not admit when I’m lost and need some guidance. Things are rarely done alone here, and their unwillingness to let me “suffer in silence,” reaffirms what I actually believe: that we are only truly found in community, in relationships with others. It was around Easter time when all of this took place. The holiday that evokes new life, of joy…of accepting a gift of life undeserved and then letting this gift be transformative in your own life. I know these beautiful gifts of hospitality I’ve received all throughout this year are working their transformations in me…

"What is our community, and how might that community be reconciled with our freedom? How far do our obligations reach? How do we transform mere power into justice, mere sentiment into love?... I find myself modestly encouraged, believing that so long as the questions are still being asked, what binds us together might somehow, ultimately, prevail." -Barack Obama, Dreams from My Father

What's UPdate

2010-04-01T06:39:00.000-07:00

-The first term of school has been really busy, and I’ve been mostly consumed with co-directing the school play and taking it to various level competitions

-I moved to my own house on our school campus, nearest to the boys’ dormitories- who like to knock on my door to play UNO at odd hours

-I became a class teacher of Std 6. We are a class of 9 and they have really improved over the course of the term. I threw them a party

-I went to Kisumu near Lake Victoria for the National Drama Festivals. We didn’t place, but it was definitely an accomplishment to make it to the competition. I was so proud of our little ones. They really did their darndest.

-We took a boat ride on the big Lake (second largest freshwater lake in the world, only to Lake Superior) as a group and ate some freshly caught (like 5 min ago) fish

- I was able to take a day trip on my own in Kisumu and road on my first motorcycle (piki piki in Kiswahili) and got a special boat ride to see some hippos swimming around

-I got accepted to McCormick Theological Seminary in Chicago, and I’m now heavily weighing all the factors in going next year

-After my trip west, I went to the east coast, Mombasa and Malindi on the Indian Ocean, for some R & R with a fellow YAV teacher

-Went swimming every day on the coast because it was too ungodly hot to do much of anything else…developed a nice sunburn

- I’ll probably head back to Meru in the next couple days to teach those who want some extra assistance in the April holidays

- I’m a bridesmaid in my Kenyan friends’ wedding- a marathon ceremony will ensue on May 1

- Finding it hard to believe that come July 25^th I’m leaving Kenya… Only about three more months…

My Musings

2010-03-29T09:31:00.000-07:00

Hey all. Apologies for not writing this month. It's been kind of a whirlwind, mostly because of our competing in the National Drama Festivals. It's all coming together this week when we head to Kisumu (in the western part of the country) for the final competition. I've had a real blast co-directing...

Below are some musings inspired by other YAV blogs- the brothers Josh (Kenya) and Tyler (India) Orem. I added to Josh's list below...

You know you're in Kenya when...

-the kiosk on the corner= you instant friends
-the polite "you go first wave" in traffic does not exist
- everyone can and does sing- on pitch- is a completely different story
- it'll be above 90 degrees and people still wear fleece
- a shoat or a geep is a hybrid goat/sheep and is fun to say
- if it smells like a burning rubbish heap...it probably is a burning rubbish heap
- Ugali= food staple consisting of corn meal and water: solidified on your plate AND in your stomach
- turns out, elephants don't live in their backyards, but you might pass one on the road...
- trousers= pants. pants=underwear. so it's best not to say silly things like "I got my pants all wet!"
- Intercessory Prayers during church sometimes become a shouting match over who can admit sin the loudest. The one with the mic usually wins.
- Who needs African acapella harmonies when you have a keyboard synthesizer and midi tracks? :(
-Rain= mud bath on your way to work the next morning
- Kenyans don't like cheese. So don't invite them over for dinner if you're having cheese pizza (lesson learned the hard way)
- That piece of colorful fabric can and is used several different ways: skirt, apron, baby holder, seedling spreader, picnic blanket, towel...
- Loving things made into other things! : bottle caps into jewelry, plastic bags bundled into soccer balls, tires into sandles...
-The peace sign means that one is abstaining (or "chilling") from sex, so it's important to know the context in which one flashes the symbol
- dubbed over Hispanic soap operas are primetime TV
- using God to advertise your business is effective marketing
- if you leave your shoes on the porch, someone might sneak by and clean them for you
- there is always always time for another cup of tea
- being on time is early, being a little late is still early...
- eating out: a hearty meal prepared with completely local foods probably costs $1.50
- everything is eaten with either a spoon or your hands- forks and knives are auxiliary

More to come most likely...

Much love from here,
D

Kenyan Monks and Merton

2010-03-06T08:34:00.000-08:00

I spent two consecutive weekends in Benedictine monasteries recently. First with the kids for camping and scouting in Nanyuki (near Mt Kenya, cold, wet...). Then, in another place with the other YAVs for our bi-monthly meeting (also cold and wet, but very green---should I be complaining about cold? I'm not really...). Anyway, it's funny how feelings can transcend borders, and I definitely felt the same air of peace and tranquility that I did at the time I spent in the monastery at Gethesmene where the infamous activist and contemplative Trappist monk, Thomas Merton, lived. I was kicking myself over not bringing some of his books along with me, but I was not left completely void when I found this in my little YAV handbook. Maybe you will like it too...

Thomas Merton's, "Letter to a Young Activist"

Do not depend on the hope of results. When you are doing the sort of work you have taken on, essentially an apostolic work, you may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results but on the value, the truth of the work itself. And there, too, a great deal has to be gone through, as gradually as you struggle less and less for an idea, and more and more for specific people. The range tends to narrow down, but it gets much more real. In the end, it is the reality of personal relationships that saves everything.

You are fed up with words, and I don’t blame you. I am nauseated by them sometimes. I am also, to tell you the truth, nauseated by ideals and with causes. This sounds like heresy, but I think you will understand what I mean. It is so easy to get engrossed with ideas and slogans and myths that in the end one is left holding the bag, empty, with no trace of meaning left in it. And then the temptation is to yell louder than ever in order to make the meaning be there again by magic. Going through this kind of reaction helps you to guard against this. Your system is complaining of too much verbalizing, and it is right.

…The big results are not in your hands or mine, but they suddenly happen, and we can share in them, but there is no point in building our lives on this personal satisfaction, which may be denied us and which after all is not that important.

The next step in the process is for you to see that your even thinking about what you are doing is crucially important. You are probably striving to build yourself an identity in your work, out of your work and witness. You are using it, so to speak, to protect yourself against nothingness, annihilation. That is not the right use of your work. All the good that you will do will come, not from you but from the fact that you have allowed yourself, in the obedience of faith, to be used by God’s love. Think of this more and gradually you will be free from the need to prove yourself, and you can be more open to the power that will work through you without your knowing it.

The great thing after all is to live, not to pour out your life in the service of a myth; and we turn the best things into myths. If you can get free from the domination of causes and just serve Christ’s truth, you will be able to do more and will be less crushed by the inevitable disappointments. Because I see nothing whatever in sight but much disappointment, frustration, and confusion.

The real hope, then, is not in something we think we can do, but in God who is making something good out of it in some way we cannot see. If we can do His will, we will be helping in this process. But we will not necessarily know all about it beforehand . . .

Up and Down Prayer Mountain

2010-02-17T05:51:00.000-08:00

I was definitely apprehensive about hiking up a mountain with a bunch of children who were fasting and praying all day. I was imagining all the whining I would have done at that age had that been my task for the day. Strenuous exercise in the hot sun not eating all day? Forget about it.

However, the tenacity of these children surprised me once again. Not only did they not complain about their rumbling stomachs, but they led the way racing up and down the mountain in flip flops and school uniforms, starting the praise songs wherever we went. I started to think about the other ways the children are leading me and what sorts of prayers were on their hearts and minds that day… Their strength extended way beyond hiking up the mountain, that’s for sure.

What has been called “Prayer Mountain,” dates back to pre-Christian times. I live in Meru, which is in the foothills of Mt. Kenya, the second highest peak in Africa next to Mt. Kilimanjaro. Prayer Mountain is one of these foothills, and offered some incredible views. The various tribes used to climb the mountain ritualistically every so often. There was a certain spot that has been lovingly nubbed into the ground where it is said that if one stands there and prays, the prayers go directly to God and are answered most- assuredly. People used to stand there day and night shouting their prayers to the world below and heaven above.

There was my bright-eyed standard six pupil who was determined not to go three steps faster than me, always looking back to make sure I hadn’t stumbled, and when I did inevitably stumble, she was always there with an emphatic, “pole! (sorry)”. As we went “slowly by slowly” as they say, we talked. She was beaming after a recent lecture she had given to her fellow pupils on HIV/AIDS after she had gone through a special peer-educator training program. I was given the highlights of the talk which also touched on girls taking extra safety precautions to avoid rape. I mentioned that even when a girl is taking precautions, sometimes bad things happen anyway and it’s not and is never her fault. She turned to me very earnestly and said, “Teacher, I know, even me, I’ve been raped, but I can’t let it stop me. I have to keep going and reaching for my dreams.” On top of this, the man who raped her was a family member who also infected her with HIV. The news was a huge blow to me. She was among the most welcoming when I first arrived, bringing me random bouquets of flowers every so often, always handing her assignments in early. If that was the prayer I had on my heart going up the mountain, I’m pretty sure I would be crawling. But she kept going, and keeps reaching.

She wants to be a counselor or a doctor in the future. Later, I saw her enveloped in the circle for people with “special concerns” on their hearts. I realized again that none of these kids has it easy. There’s my smiley and shy standard eight pupil who was on an orphan scholarship from a foreign donor. There’s my guy in standard seven who recently lost his father to complications related to alcoholism. A lot of loss, a lot of trauma in these young lives. Maybe that’s why being a part of their education system is a valuable position as a YAV. They believe in this power of education to transform, to enrich, and to empower, and it’s been a privilege to watch some of this occurring.

I’ve been trudging my way through the Old Testament as of late, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Moses as I was up on that mountain with the children. God speaking to Moses in a cloud made more sense to me having this experience. God speaks in a dark mist, in disorienting circumstances…It must have been beyond difficult for Moses to sense God amid all the haziness of the directives to liberate the Israelites. Likewise, I can imagine my pupils in these dark clouds of their own lives, wondering what they’re doing on the mountain, how God could speak through the grey mist. And then, Moses comes down from the mountain transfigured, his face shining…

I wouldn’t say they were shining back down at the bottom of the mountain, but they proudly patted their hungry stomachs and smiled at me. Something had been released, something had begun to work in them…and me.

Restreating in Zanzibar

2010-01-23T04:19:00.000-08:00

“So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” –Jesus, Matt 6:34

I’ve told quite a few now about how I found my new favorite place in the whole wide world in Zanzibar. The beaches were beautiful, the food zesty with fresh grown spices, the history rich and interesting, the architecture refreshingly simple and different, and on top of all this I’m still asking, what made it such a special place?

Our YAV group is given the opportunity to go on retreat two times during our year, and this was our first and proclaimed “most spectacular” retreat. It was good timing for our group. Half of us teach and were gearing up for the rest of the school year, and the other half were coming off of the Christmas holiday also looking back and looking forward. There wasn’t a lot of structure to our retreat. I think our site-coordinator, the lovely Rev Phyllis Byrd-Ochilo, knew that the island kind of forbade it, sort of an unspoken rule made by the flow of things there.

I thought I would have a chance to sort everything out in my head while I was so removed from everything (there wasn’t even any electricity on the island to distract me). The deadlines for applying to programs for next year are fast approaching, my first four months in Kenya went extraordinarily fleeting - though I know I changed somehow? And then there was my immediate future of going back into teaching: a profession I find extremely humbling and still somewhat intimidating. All these things were roaming around in my head, which doesn’t know where it belongs. Half of it is back home and half is still here trying to process how it was I came to be here and not there…and…

I think my expectations were a little over-zealous for this type of trip. The waves on the ocean and the solitude you might feel while floating freely on it don’t help put things in order, but rather help you to be at peace amidst that disorder. I eventually felt at ease that I wasn’t going to figure it out, but that in the moment, my job was to appreciate the accumulation of events that led me exactly to this place. Then my job was to trust that this force that led me would somehow mysteriously continue to do so. We’ll call it my hammock epiphany. It seems simple, but I do need reminders about life being largely beyond my control. And so: I rested, and I’m learning to trust.

As to the question about the island being kind of a magical place for me, I think it was (added to the above) the hospitality of the people. Sure, it’s largely a touristy place, but there’s something genuine in their greetings. The only Kiswahili they think foreigners will understand is, “Jambo. Karibu. Hakuna Matata,” which means (if you need the translation), “Hi, welcome, have no worries.” Though cheesy, there was truth there. I didn’t really have any worries. I felt free and safe on the island. The minute we stepped off the ferry, many were there to greet us and walk us to our hostel at no charge. We made fast friends with locals that we ate and danced with, and were sad to leave by the end of our trip. When you rode on the crowded public transit, people passed you their baby to hold onto so that they could find a seat. If someone was eating fresh plums, they offered you one. We walked around at night through the winding streets without a flashlight and knew somehow we would come out on the other side right where we needed to be. Slowly throughout the course of these two days that turned into four because we couldn’t leave, the hospitality of the people, and the freedom that it creates, got under our skin. There was an unspoken agreement that this place was to be appreciated and revered, and that we could all stand aside in that glow together. We didn’t feel like big tourists by the end, but felt part of the place-free to BE, and to be happy.

Inwardly, I’m still freaking about whether or not I should go to seminary next year, if I should put if off for other things, if my relationships will be the same or different when I get back, how much I know I’ll already miss Kenya when I’m home, etc… and part of me still wishes I would have gotten some resolution on those issues. But I did get clarity that it will come together when it needs to. What I want to walk into the new year with is a simple appreciation for getting this far and gratitude for the present in which the future will become clear. I have at least that much faith.

“By the time I recognize this moment, this moment will be gone, but I will bare the light pretending that it somehow lingered on…”- John Mayer

Many Thanks

2010-01-10T05:24:00.001-08:00

Make a Smilebox slideshow

A New Year, A New Place

2010-01-10T04:03:00.000-08:00

Hi family and friends,

Below is a mass email kind of thing I sent out- please excuse cross postings. :)

Hello everyone,

Happy 2010! The first four months of being in Kenya have really flown by...
First and foremost, thanks are in order. I have reached and surpassed my fundraising goal thanks to all of your wonderful support. I was always a little anxious about this factor in participating in the program, but you have all shown more faith than I had. So, wow, huge thanks.

Things are going great in Kenya. It's a strange and refreshing feeling to feel so at home in such a faraway place. I feel myself streching and growing in ways I never imagined, and yet feeling rather grounded and comfortable. It's a nice tension to have. If you are not able to make it through the entire email, know that I am starting to make some great friends, am forming community with people in my town and church, and that I really love teaching and have had quite the diverse experience so far. Oh, yeah, and I saw some lions in the wild. ;)

I arrived in early September and had a month-long orientation in Nairobi with the other Young Adult Volunteers (YAVs). We were given a crash course in Kenyan history, politics, religion, economics, and language. Sad to say I have not retained a whole lot of Kiswahili as most people default to English when they see me (the other official language of the country), but there's always room for resolutions, right? We also met and stayed with our designated support families and were introduced to ugali, chapati, sukoma wiki, and various delicious tropical fruits. Our stomachs adjusted eventually, and before we knew it, it was time to go our separate ways and begin our work for the year.

Most of my group (7 total) hangs around Nairobi working at non-profits, in churches, or teaching. As some of you know, originally I was supposed to work with the YWCA. However, when I arrived, I learned that they had collected too many volunteers, and so a new placement was needed. I have not done a lot of work with children, so I was skeptical and nervous when I found out my placement was teaching at a primary school.

Meru Junior School is a private school with about 500 students preschool- 8th grade. It is a combination day and boarding school, so some students are local while others are from different parts of the country. The boarding aspect definitely enhances the community life of the school, as children are away from their parents and taught at a very young age to depend on each other. Most of my anxiousness was wiped away within the first five minutes of arriving. I got out of the van to be greeted with a full children’s chorus singing and dancing some standard African welcoming tunes. Each of them proceeded to give me a bouquet of hand-picked flowers. I was reassured exactly then that things were going to turn out ok.

I’ve been teaching 4th-6th grade English and am doing a little music with them whenever possible. I find teaching simultaneously challenging, humbling, rewarding, and creative. It’s taking me awhile to adjust to the different system and rules, but in general, kids are very warm, bright, and well-behaved. I’ve only had to break up fights when students were overly-enthusiastic about answering questions- if that gives you an indication. I definitely find that I learn as much or more from them as they do from me, and that they perform best when we're both having fun. And we are having fun, inside and outside of the classroom. They have inspired me to brush up on my meager guitar skills (and learn some new ones) to accompany them in singing. I performed with three classes for both class eight graduation and “prayer day” before that. I was also given the opportunity to chaperone the field trip to the Meru National Game Park. That’s where we saw the lions… I think I was much more excited than they were.

Outside of school, I’ve been attending a PCEA church and this dictates most of my social life. The young adult population in almost every church here is thriving- something U.S. churches can only dream of. I’ve also been lucky enough to have friends traveling to different parts of the country and letting me tag along. I even got to plant some maize and beans near Mt. Kenya for the school farm. Kenya really is a beautiful country. Mountains, rivers, ocean, coastline, rainforest, wildlife, you can’t ask for more. It’s a rainy season now, so everything is especially green and lovely.

On the whole, I’m really loving it here. I’m making great friends, being adopted into families, and building some good relationships with my students. I’m still adjusting and perpetually learning, but I’m also growing some roots. I can feel subtley my perspective and attitudes starting to change. I think a lot of it is transformative in its pace alone. Though even I will complain about the lateness of Kenyans, it really does give you that time to simply be, reflect, and recognize the sort of “holiness of the moment.” It’s also easier to live more holistically, I think. They have a good balance here. There is always time for friends and family, prayer is almost constant before and after everything, organic vegetables from the local farm are at the market for cheap, everyone sings, everyone dances, people walk most places, there is always more tea, and living simply is the norm, not the new trend.

I’ll try to bring some of this back for you all…I've been on school break since mid-November and have been in Nairobi. Unfortunately, I spent most of my break being sick with a mysterious parasite. I'm feeling better, so I hope this is an indicator of it being gone. In between rounds of medication, my work assignment was with women's and children's groups in one of the slum areas. It was a great experience. We threw a great Christmas party for some children that live there, and celebrated the end of the year with women in a micro-finance group. Again, more is on the blog if you are interested. I was able to spend Christmas with the other Americans and we ate and drank and churched to our heart's content. Our site-coordinator even indulged us with a big 'ol turkey.

Again, thank you so much for your support and prayers. It means so much to me. I think of and miss you all often.

Blessings,
Deanna

Christmas in Kenya: How the Glitter Gets In

2010-01-04T06:01:00.000-08:00

Blog: 12/25/09

I was anxious about being away from home for my first Christmas. What big shoes of nostalgia to fill... It was wonderful, though, blessings from unexpected places.

For a certain part of the Christmas season, I was in American “gift-mode” and was brainstorming what to get all the different people I work with and am friends with. It quickly added up to quite a number, and I started to stress about how to purchase everything on a YAV stipend. In the madness, I finally stopped to ask one of these friends if gift-giving was the norm. Turns out, it’s not. Even within families sometimes, people are not always exchanging gifts. Hmmm…is this Christmas?

I was cracking up while reading my friend’s blog, who was also questioning the meaning of Christmas… I learned there that:

“St. Nicholas, as it turns out, is most famous for his gift, not of oranges, but of bags of gold to a family so poor that they could only hope to sell their daughters into prostitution. In order to avoid this damning act, Old St. Nick left bags of a gold on their doorsteps to use as a dowries for their weddings instead. That's it. That's the whole story.”

Kenyans are definitely keeping this spirit of Christmas alive. Instead of buying things for each other, most families choose to do something for others that are in need. This, they claim, is the real joy of giving and of the season. One of my friends and his mom took a homeless man into their home and gave nice meals for the holiday. The Christmas party for the children in Kibera that I worked on was sponsored and run by many other such spirited people. Ah, we haven’t lost it everywhere, it turns out.

I know it warmed my heart to see the givers and the receivers having a blast at the children’s Christmas party. Actually, I was corrected a number of times that it wasn’t their party, but that it was “Jesus’ party.” I always think it’s horribly cheesy and adorable at the same time when kids sing “Happy Birthday” to Jesus, but in this setting, it seemed oddly fitting. Jesus would want this kind of party- people gathering from the margins, eating bread and jelly sandwiches, drinking tea, singing and dancing. You see, this way we all have something and we are all sharing in this mysterious incarnation thing together.

This season, I’ve also been racking my brain about what it means to these children that “a child is born unto them…” I still haven’t really figured it out, nor do I think I ever will, but I think it’s a little bit like the glitter. You see, my job was to lead the craft portion of the party. Nothing special, just a little cut and paste job, but what I didn’t anticipate was the glitter factor. Glittery paper trees were only the beginning, as I would soon find out. There were glittery fingers, glittery faces, glittery tables and chairs, glittery hair, glittery clothes, a glittery floor, etc. It was a fun phenomenon how this little craft transformed the hearts and faces of these little ones, as well as a dirty and dingy church into something that sparkled. And maybe that’s how this mysterious birth comes into our lives too. It’s in these little specs that reflect light and cling to you and everything else.

My flecks of glittery Christmas this year came in the form of Grace, our adopted grandmother in Kenya. She took us to church, then took us home for a delicious meal and homemade eggnog. Our little lost American group fell asleep by the fireplace on Christmas Eve while listening to the likes of Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby on vinyl. Pretty perfect, save teleporting my family.

Here’s to you and yours! And here’s some pics… J

Deanna

3rd and 4th Weeks of Advent: Love and Joy

2009-12-29T04:28:00.000-08:00

Blog Post

12/21/09

"Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all."

-Emily Dickinson

Hope you are all doing well and are given the gift of time to enjoy the season. I miss home a lot- even the snow. “White Christmas” played recently on my matatu route, and I chuckled to myself out loud. Christmas definitely looks a lot different here- not only with it being summer instead of winter, but also there is just less. Less Christmas lights strewn about, less presents under the tree, and less stress. I think there is more emphasis and attention paid to our Advent pillars here of love and joy, mostly because, well, there isn’t as much other “stuff” to crowd it out.

I had a fantastic week. I met and worked with Susan, a social worker that operates HARC- The Hope and Reconciliation Center in Kibera. I donned my new title as children’s party planner and we got to work for the preparations of the end-of-the-year Christmas party for 150 children that she runs a weekly Sunday School for. I also was granted the opportunity to visit a women’s micro-finance group for the parents of those children earlier in the week.

It was my first time in Kibera, which is arguably the largest slum in Africa: home to about 1.5 million people. I was glad for the opportunity to be there, mostly because I feel as if it’s framed my whole experience in a much broader context. We’ve spent our fair share of time rubbing elbows with the upper classes here, relationships granted mostly because we’re Americans and we speak English. I value this experience as well for what it is. It’s important to realize that Kenya’s identity is not wrapped up solely in its poverty level, but it is also important to realize it is part of its reality and the country’s struggle.

The view was breathtaking, but not in the good sense. We weaved our way in and out of tin shanty after tin shanty, many huge garbage heaps, and feeble bridges covering the sewage streams. It wasn’t just my parasitic fever that started to make me shaky, but rather its harshness. We eventually made it to where we were going, which was another non-descript shanty that blended in with the rest on top of a hill. All I could see for miles were these tin roofs reflecting the harsh sun. I felt swallowed and small.

Contrasting the disparity, the sound of singing made its way down to where we were standing. It was a beautiful tune, joyful with clapping, signaling the start of the women’s meeting. The 30 + women welcomed us into the dirt floored meeting room with no windows. I couldn’t understand the Kiswahili, but I think I understood what was happening. After a few more songs, there were prayers, and then a speaker gave a message. At one point, she was swept away by emotion and started crying during her speech. Then, most of the women started crying together. Simultaneously, prayers began to break out. Loud ones that everyone uttered in desperate tones at the same time. Then silence.

It was somewhat out-of-body, and mostly confusing, but processing it later, it spoke to me on a couple of levels. It made me think of this Emily Dickinson quote, “Pain is missed in Praise.” All too often, the church overlooks the important process of grieving, or even simply recognizing the depth of suffering encountered every day. I think this neglect is particularly destructive here where situations are sometimes blamed on those who are suffering because they did not- pray enough, give enough, aren’t “saved” enough. But this was refreshing in that what was needed was a good cry. Experienced in the communal context, it was healing and it was honest. They have a harsh reality- situations largely bigger and beyond their control no matter how hard they’ve ____ enough.

The ancient writings of the Desert Fathers speak of “the gift of tears,” and I think this was true here. The ability to mourn their losses and struggles made way for joy. Because what followed after the silence was a prayer, then a solo voice, then a loud chorus broke out with dancing. Usually, I am pretty self-conscious of my mediocre moves, especially in front of people I don’t know, but I held nothing back this time. I wouldn’t be able to recall another time when I needed “to dance it out,” more than that moment. I was surprised to find my own anxieties and fears working themselves out in that room, singing and dancing with women from the other side of the world that didn’t speak my language. God this way, “turning mourning into dancing,” in this case, literally.

"While I dance I cannot judge, I cannot hate, I cannot separate myself from life. I can only be joyful and whole." -Hans Bos

2nd Week of Advent: Peace in Process

2009-12-13T06:28:00.001-08:00

"Our actions matter, and can bend history in the direction of justice." -President Barack Obama

I know I’m a week behind on my Advent series, but I’ll try to catch up. Last week, peace was the theme of the candle. The angels that came to announce the birth of Christ proclaimed, “Glory to God in the highest. Peace on earth…” Advent is the season of expectation, and in this case, we’re told to expect peace. Jesus, the “prince of peace.”

It’s an interesting time to study the subject. My president just received the Nobel Peace Prize while sending more troops to fight a second war. Strange on a lot of levels. Here, they don’t understand when we talk about “deploying troops,” or what it means to fight in a world war, but they know conflict within their own borders. Two years ago this month, some of the worst violence in the country’s history broke out over a disputed election. The wounds are still very fresh. Last weekend, I went to a “Peace Concert” in Nairobi’s central park, which was an effort to bring people together in reverence and remembrance of the events that took place. It was pretty relaxed until… it wasn’t anymore. Some minor mob mentality broke out at the end. Bottles were smashed, the security started hampering down, half the crowd of mostly youth started running away towards the city. Maybe it wouldn’t have been such a big deal, except with the overtones of the concert’s aim, it gave me an eerie feeling about how fragile the state of things are here.

We recently had a small informal devotion and were sharing different places where we’ve felt or seen peace here. With what had happened that weekend, I was hard pressed to find something. Tribalism, as defined by a local op-ed contributor as,"a conscious choice to discriminate against others who speak a language other than your own or who do not share in your particular culture…" is still thriving here. Makes one worried for their 2012 elections and whether or not their forming constitution will indeed pass and unify its people. Overall, I felt a lot of tension, not peace.

It was ironic, then, that I felt most at peace this week coming face to face with the issue. There was a photo exhibit downtown displaying some of the worst of the violence for all to see. The pictures were expertly composed, but horrifying, and yet incredibly moving in the way that makes you want to change. I was also moved by what the NGO surrounding the photos was trying to do. Representatives were preaching to the onlookers about the need to expose the wounds in order to heal them. Before we can look forward, they urged, we must first of all LOOK . Only then, within an honest confrontation of the conflict, can we reach inside for the solutions that won’t let the future be the same. So, I’m in the looking stage right now, and that’s a good and healthy place to be, I think. At least I’m in some good company.

For now, it is the internal peace that I feel most prevalently in Kenya. When you ask, “How are you?” (Habari yako?) in Kiswahili, a common response is “Salama,” or, “I have peace.” It doesn’t answer the question necessarily, but is indicative of something, I believe, a little deeper that doesn’t sway with the comings and goings of the day’s emotion. I see it here, the inward peace manifested outwardly… in the way a child always carries the mother’s things for her, in how a mother wraps a child lovingly in a kitanga cloth to keep her close, in how there is always fresh milk on hand in case visitors come for tea time, and in how there is always time: for prayer, for a good conversation, and for family in its many extensions. Let us, "prepare the way..." inward, and then onward. But let us not move forward too quickly, for it is this internal peace communicated that is truly transformative.

"If in our daily life we can smile, if we can be peaceful and happy, not only we, but everyone will profit from it. This is the most basic kind of peace work.” -Thich Nhat Hanh

PS: on an unrelated health update, I think they finally figured out what I had and am definitely on the road to recovery. thanks for the prayers.

KenyaNews Round-Up

2009-12-08T03:35:00.000-08:00

Not only are Kenyans very politically engaged and aware about what is happening in their own country, but I also frequently receive updates on U.S. and other international news from my Kenyan friends. So as part of our exchange here, I thought it would be good to post some current Kenyan events for those that are interested in learning some more about what's going on where I am.

1.) The climate change talks in Copenhagen. Kenya is rooting for some real change and for people to speak out about the countries that suffer the most from climate change. Kenya has suffered one of the worst droughts in its history this past year, and because of it are now suffering food and water shortages all over the country. Not to mention the huge damaging effects it has on the country's already feeble economy... I bet this lady will shake things up.

2.) Mau Forest Evictions. The Kenyan government is evicting thousands of people from the biggest green area of the country. Controversy is over whether or not the squatters have a place to go home to, or if they are being evicted to homelessness. The controversy extends to who had land rights in the first place and whether or not that matters in the name of the conservation of this precious resource for the country and for the world.

3.) Kenyans are in the process of drafting their very own constitution. Kenya has been an independent nation since 1964, but has never changed the constitution since the time of British rule. Many attempts of writing a new constitution have been made in the past decade or so, but disagreements have stalled the process tremendously. Currently, pressure from the U.S. and the U.N. following the post election violence in 2007 has helped the process the move along. Kenyans would like to put the constitution into place before the next elections in 2012. One particularly hot area of debate is what a coalition government (between a prime minister and a president) would look like and what kind of power-sharing they would have.

4.) Cholera Outbreak. Especially in areas hard-hit by the drought, cholera is devastating the country. Already, 4,700 cases have been found in the past month and 119 deaths have been reported. A very sad state of affairs. The article linked above talks about this being a "disease of poverty," as the cure for cholera is mostly large amounts of clean water- an expensive commodity during this time.

5.) A move for reform. It was only two years ago this month that Kenya broke out into one of its most violent times in its history following the election of President Kabaki and Prime Minister Raila Odinga. Former UN Secretary General and mediator, Kofi Annan, visited the country recently to check on Kenya's progress towards reforms. The draft constitution is one avenue, reorganizing the police force is another, and making the anti-corruption committee stronger and responsible for prosecuting those that committed some of the worst crimes during the period of post-election violence are some ways that the country is moving in the right direction.

1st Week of Advent: Susceptibility and Hope

2009-12-04T05:38:00.000-08:00

Conveniently, I got pretty sick during a time of transition and my school holiday. It took about two weeks of tests to diagnose me with…food poisoning. It wasn’t malaria. Not typhoid. No chance of cholera, but food poisoning. I’m affectionately calling it “righteous food poisoning” to account for my suffering. I was finally put on the right kind of antibiotics, and now I’m feeling much better. I even started a new job.

Not being used to the types of antibodies here, I’m susceptible to a new host of possible illnesses. This was my turn and it was easily curable. And that’s what was so striking to me. On day #2 of antibiotics, I was a new person. The scope of these infections is so widespread and damaging, but the solution has already been found. I found this article written by a worker in neighboring Rwanda.

He writes, “parasitic and bacterial infections…are the most common chronic infections among the world’s poorest people…These ailments… not only lead to pain, discomfort and the distended bellies you often see in pictures of poor, malnourished children; they also cripple entire generations. Infections reach maximum intensity in the age range of five to 14 years, effectively stunting both physical and mental development at the most critical time in the victims’ lives.”

This writer goes onto explain the subtle threat of these parasites and their hindrance to development. There are others on the list: malaria, typhoid, HIV/AIDS getting the most press. But the article resonates with my gut feeling, “we can do something about this…” Living in poverty makes one susceptible to infinitely more life-threatening dangers, but it does not have to be a death sentence.

All too often it is.

This being World AIDS week has made me think about how living with HIV is very different in other parts of the world. This year’s theme was “Universal Access and Human Rights.” It brings attention to the fact that the vast majority of people infected with HIV/AIDS are in low-income countries and do not have the kind of access required to put a significant decrease in the statistics. In Kenya, I am happy to say that the rate of infection and of death due to HIV/AIDs has been reduced. However, 1.4 million people here have HIV, and more than half of the people who need life-saving drugs are not getting them. I celebrate what is being done and say it proves only how much more we can do.

I started working for a new organization this week called Catholic Relief Services. My job is nothing glamorous, but I do what needs to be done (in this case, data entry) for an organization that is really doing things. They give comprehensive care all over Kenya. They are quick to point out that poverty has many faces, and most recently, these faces have been most devastatingly affected by the drought. One of the ways we might not think about right away is the drought halting many people's HIV treatment, since the medication must be balanced by good nutrition, which is hard to come by during drought times. When there is no rain, there is no food, no water, no livestock, which also means there is no income, which means no medical care, which means…the cycle continues. And to complete the circle, there is no rain because there is global warming, and there is global warming because…well, because of us, mostly. We are not so far removed. We are all connected.

My new roommates and I (other YAVs in Nairobi) made an advent wreath last night out of recycled things. The first candle during this first week of Advent represents hope. Recently, I felt really connected to chapter 5 in Lamentations. It felt like the writer was lamenting current events in Kenya, and even in that context there is still, “Restore us to yourself, O LORD, that we may return; renew our days as of old.” Hope. After a bleak blog entry, I maintain my hope in things seen- programs that are working, people that are reached-and things unseen- a world where susceptibility turns to sustainability, and where we don’t put a cost on the saving of a life.

Good-bye Grads, Hello Kisumu

2009-11-20T05:07:00.000-08:00

The school is on trimesters here and their third and final trimester just finished. Now we’re on holiday until January when their new school year starts. The past couple of weeks preparing for big tests and Prayer Day and Graduation have been a lot of fun. Set a week apart, the ceremonies were pre and post the really big tests for class eight.

The community aspect is one of the things I'm enjoying most about my school. Since many of the students live here and are in small classes from 1-8 together, all the ages really look out for one another. It didn't surprise me, then, that the support was tremendous for the 17 class eights who were preparing for their big transition. On Prayer Day, every class presented a song and a dance for them. A very exuberant pastor also came and gave them a message and some powerful prayers that got them in the right frame of mind for test-taking. A lot of pressure was riding on them, as the test determines what kind of Secondary School they go to, which in turn, has a really big impact on if they will make it to University. It was a very bright and determined class, so I’m sure they will go far. I think we all had fun learning and performing new songs (I brushed up on my limited guitar knowledge and played some Christmas carols on the piano…way fun). In true Kenyan style, the ceremonies both lasted all day and had many hitches, but that didn’t keep it from being a joyful and celebratory experience for all.

Next, I’m headed to Kisumu, which is in the Western Province of the country. It’s near Lake Victoria where the Nile flows up from. I hear they eat a lot of fish. I’ll be working for the YWCA this time. Job and living situation TBD. I’ve had a slight delay in Nairobi here, as I’ve contracted a mild form of malaria. Day three on medications and I’m feeling ninety times better. Mostly was a bad flu. Don’t Wikipedia malaria. Don’t.

On another unrelated note, I wanted to post a huge THANK YOU on my blog. I have officially met and exceeded my fundraising goal of $9,000. As many of you know, I was nervous about this aspect of this program and being able to raise this much money, but it seems like a lot of you had more faith than I did. So, really, I can’t thank you enough. I appreciate all of your support financially and otherwise. If you would still like to donate to some of the work here, I do have some ideas, so let me know. But wow, you’ve all blown me away.

Happy early thanksgiving,

Cultural Day, Safari Weekend

2009-11-04T08:46:00.000-08:00

One of the most anticipated days of the year at Meru Junior is Cultural Day. The kids have been practicing for it since I’ve gotten here and they put all their heart and soul into learning various tribes’ traditional songs and dances. There was some poetry, skits, a fashion show, and an eating contest thrown in there just for fun. Even I got a little dressed up for the occasion. I didn’t exactly blend in, but they did applaud my efforts- and adjusted my head scarf thingy about a million different times in a million different ways. Below you will see me dressed in my kitanga gear.

So rhythm, moves, sometimes some harmony- they had it all. Most of the songs were from the KiMeru tribe, which makes sense as most of the school population is Meru. They extended their scope beyond, however, and learned some pieces from the other tribes as well. Currently in Kenya, there are 42 definitive tribes. This sense of “tribal identity” or how that contributes to one’s personal identity is something I’m still trying to get a grip on. My education started on this day, in an atmosphere where there was the freedom to express the pride of varying heritages. Hopefuly, I’ll have some video soon.

The next day, I left with the Scouts to Meru National Game Park, a couple hours from school. I thought our fun was going to be spoiled when we reached our destination late and they had no room for us (I suppose reservations for the fieldtrip of 32 kids would have been a good idea, but just saying…). Thankfully, the workers were good sports about it and let us bunk together. Wonderful accommodations minus the scorpions (thank god not in my room). I had a single track mind on our first game drive: lions and hippos. First, buffalo- impressive the first time around, but boring the 100th time you see them. But second…buffalo, no wait, that’s lions eating buffalo! I was so lucky. A lot of driving later we came upon some streams. The first stream stop no hippos, but the second- a mother and her baby. Perfect. I felt ready to go home after that, but the kids had not gotten their fill. Eventually, we saw the other “usuals”- the giraffe, the warthogs, an elephant, and a rhino. When we returned, we did the usual campy stuff. You know, studied for exams, threw some rocks at baboons, watched the crocodiles swim around while we ate lunch… Ok, well we did do those things AND had a bonfire with songs and stories. I really need to teach them the glory of s’mores.

A little less than two weeks of school left. Now, we’re gearing up for “Prayer Day,” which is appropriately the day before the big final exams. I decided to spice things up this week by bringing in a guitar and teaching them some songs to be performed. We’ll see how that goes. Right now, my out of shape guitar fingers really hurt.

Taking Tea, Taking Time

2009-10-22T12:09:00.000-07:00

I am on my third week of teaching English to 4th, 5th, and 6th graders, or really whatever they need me to teach, at whatever time. I'm realizing it's the American way to have systems and schedules that are rather rigid, and that it's not that way everywhere...

Within these systems in the U.S., I do not always perform the best. People who know me well generally tell me to arrive somewhere an hour before they actually want me to be there. My mother instituted the "double everything" rule with me, where I should take whatever amount of time I think something is going to take and then double it so that I actually make it on time. Brenda, my mission co-worker friend, thinks that the fact that I'm most attracted to elephants during game drives is also indicative of this personality trait- I like to go at my own pace. But amidst Kenyans that are more like me, I have never felt more American when it comes to keeping time.

My first day has set the general trend for how it works here. I was told I would start teaching three classes on Monday, each period having 35 minutes. I had a blast planning my lessons, gazing excitedly over text books and curriculums. I found that my creative process was heartily engaged during this exercise, and it was fun. First thing I learned on Monday morning was that I would be teaching double lessons- 70 min. Ok, no problem, I'll just teach them two days worth. Well, 70 minutes slowly turned to two hours and I've made it through my week's worth of lessons and the kids look like their heads are going to explode. Not only was it a ton of material to digest, but they have been having a rough time deciphering my accent on top of it. Lesson 1: take it slow.

Because my first class went so long I was "late" for my second class which only went for 20 minutes. Second lesson: plan for everything and- nothing. I eventually made it over to 6th grade for another unexpected double lesson. I finished explaining my word of the day vocabulary project, which I had proposed in each class, when a brave hand hesitantly rose in the air to ask simply, "what is a definition?" Great question. Deep too. Third lesson of the day: clarify each step- define, define, define.

At this point in the day I'm horribly confused about where I'm supposed to be at what time, and for how long. I was determined to get an answer, so I collected some of the class teachers so that we could figure out this whole schedule thing. My flood of questions seemed to confuse them and I was met with another question, "Have you taken tea?" "Well, no, but I'm trying to figure out when I'm supposed to teach so I know how to plan..." "Yes, yes, but first you must take tea," and with that I was shuffled over to the office where a cup had been prepared just for me. I was loosely promised a time table at the end of the day.

I still have yet to see this time table, but I have been taught to take tea time seriously. So what if I'm late to class if I've had a good conversation along the way? It's an accepted practice here so no one is ever mad or surprised when you are late, or if anything runs over time. In fact, people are more surprised when things actually do start on time (I was on time for church the other day and was one of 5 people there- the 400 other members came rolling in at half past or later). And it's ok, even good for a person to wake up every day not knowing what to expect. Control is illusory anyway, right?

Don't get me wrong, my American sense of timing (that I didn't know I had) still gets ruffled when I plan a really great lesson only to find that today is a gov exam day, or that the class 3 teacher quit unexpectedly, so that I would be with 3rd graders all day, but...I'm learning. I'm learning how to control less and stay in the moment more. I'm also learning a lot of improvisation and to go with the flow. I'm reorganizing my priorities and learning again and again that NOW and PEOPLE matter the most, and I'm happy my Kenyan community is holding me accountable to these values.

Off to bed now for who knows what tomorrow. Stay tuned for my adventures in farming and also a review of cultural day.

Pictured: Zakary, our school driver, taking a tea break on the farm. That's Mt. Kenya in the background.

Sweet, Sweetwaters

2009-10-16T10:41:00.000-07:00

Visiting writer, church mouse here to report on our fabulous safari weekend spent at Sweetwaters Game Park. Deanna and Brenda thought they were alone in the vehicle with Boneface, the driver, but little did they know that I was a stowaway in one of their suitcases…The Mrs. outfitted me in safari boots, vest, and hat so I looked like a typical game drive participant.

All the animals came out to greet us as soon as we entered the park. It was as if they had been signaled ahead of time to put on a good show. Three of the “big five” appeared right away, crossing the road in front of us. Deanna scrambled for her camera as the safari vehicle whizzed away and Brenda laughed as she watched Deanna take in her first “I’m actually in Kenya” moments, promising better photo opportunities in the near future. I, on the other hand, froze in my seat at the size of the animals and the close proximity to our vehicle.

Next, was the short drive to our tent. Deanna and I were mentally prepared for roughing it, and had visions of re-enacting some “(wo)/man vs. wild” sketches. We knew we weren’t going to be eating bugs or drowning in rain water when we were met at Sweetwaters with umbrella escorts. They shuttled our bags to tent number one. Brenda had insisted that we should be closer to the water hole, and thus closer to the scary animals promising that there was a safe distance and an electric wire protecting us. I’m not sure how she thought a tiny electric wire and a 3 ft ditch was going to stop any animal from crossing, but I suppose she lived to tell the tale. Then, I got lost in the tent. It was at this time that the girls realized I was with them and I was quickly delegated to the verandah outside the tent- well, what they called a tent, and what I would call a Hilton room with cloth around it instead of walls.

After I gobbled up the crumbs from Deanna and Brenda’s five course breakfast, we went for our first game drive. Just before that, we arose to coffee on the verandah watching the sun come up over Mt. Kenya. Brenda was in search of her “twiga”- the giraffes, and Deanna couldn’t get enough “tembo”- elephants. I found the warthogs most curious. Our first stop was to Jane Goodall’s Chimpanzee Sanctuary. They say that humans are the closest to the chimpanzee and, wow, could I see the similarities. When Deanna and Poco took their little walk together, I thought they would have held hands had it not been the electronic force field protecting them both. For the most part, the chimps looked like bored teenagers, but I thought I heard the guard say they have 200 acres to play around in. After lunch, we went rhino petting. I stayed in the vehicle with Boneface, but peeped my head out enough to see that Deanna did indeed touch a rhino, even if it was at a far arm’s length. Brenda was getting a little anxious about her twiga at this point, but “ask and ye shall receive,” I heard that somewhere, and there popped out of the acacia a herd of giraffes. Brenda was really excited and a little more peaceful for the rest of the trip having gotten her fill. We spent the rest of the day watching the activity surrounding the water hole: more zebras, antelope, elephants, buffalo, impala, warthogs, and exotic birds.

We enjoyed our own sort of church waking up the next morning to the sound of birds. We were sad to be nearing the end of our two day excursion. They warded off their melancholy when a word from the desk arrived that lions and cheetahs had been spotted that morning. They didn’t shower or anything and loaded up the van for one last hoorah. Since cats and mice don’t really make very good bedfellows, I wasn’t at all excited about this prospect. Boneface took us on some back roads hoping we’d find my enemies in their solitary mood and therefore in a solitary spot. Then, there, under a bush, we saw some spots and some movement, and identified the cheetahs. I have no doubts that this is one cat that could definitely out run me. Luckily, they were distracted by Thompson gazelles. I breathed a sigh of relief when the ladies grew tired and hungry from the search, for I was not looking forward to seeing the biggest baddest cat of them all. Boneface promised Deanna, “next time” for sighting lions.

We sorrowfully left Sweetwaters, made a quick pit stop at the wood carvers’, and arrived safely home in Meru. I will promise to stowaway with the girls whenever possible and report back. Someone has to keep an eye on them.

Until next time,
~Church mouse

expecting rain

2009-10-05T09:06:00.000-07:00

Spotty internet connection in Meru so far. And by spotty, I mean it’s been down for over a week. A practice in patience.

They say the long rains will start soon. Every day there is a long ritual hopeful gaze up in the sky, wondering if today will be the start. Instead, the wind kicks up the dust and the cows chew up the final few patches of green. This year, they will be thankful for El Nino, as it attempts to repair some of the damage that four years of drought has done. As my host mom says, “When Kenya has rain we are happy, when we don’t, we suffer.” An insightful comment on how they maintain a very delicate threshold here dependent on the unpredictability of the weather.

I am also in holding here. I arrived in Meru last week and have been in classes observing the ins and outs of the Kenyan style of teaching. Finally received my assignment yesterday to teach 4^th, 5^th, and 6^th graders English and maybe some Christian Ed. Music is also a must, as they sing almost incessantly here, in every class and are anxious to learn some new songs. They are thrilled that I play an instrument and so by outing myself, I may have incidentally been contracted to teach every student piano lessons. Yikes, we’ll see how that develops...

I was surprised myself at how excited I became at lesson planning. There is so much I can do with these kids because they are so bright, dedicated, eager, fun, and hard-working. The second graders I observed were practically leaping out of their seats to answer grammar questions. You’d have to pay most kids in the U.S.

A little bit about the school. It’s a primary school which ranges from preschool to 8^th grade and is partly a boarding school (all the rage in Kenya) and partly a day school. Students start as early as 6 am and “end” their day around 5 pm (boarders go until 9 pm). It’s a private school so leaves some room for some additional religious education. It also hosts a fair number of orphaned children who are on scholarship. Children are heavily structured, but incredibly happy. I knew I had arrived in good hands when the children welcomed me out of my van with a song and dance of “Jambo Bwana.”

wikendi meru

2009-09-22T06:04:00.000-07:00

Probably our biggest highlight of this month long orientation has been our weekend spent in Meru as a group. It was our first road trip together which connotes bonding automatically, but we were overjoyed at how easy it was to also bond with the "youth" (ages 18-35) there. They had a youth rally for their presbytery and had activities planned all weekend with us in mind. We're definitely not used to all the attention, but we wrote it off as Kenyan hospitality at its finest.

It was everything we hoped it would be: a mutual cultural exchange. They schooled us in volleyball and soccer, taught us some new songs and dances, told some good stories...ok, maybe it wasn't exactly mutual in that we received a whole lot more... though Jacob (other YAV) did do a mean rendition of "the Princess Pat" (any campers out there?) that was requested several times after it was led. Anyway, the spirit of the whole thing was incredibly welcoming and warm.

In our "heart to heart" discussions, we talked about the many ways in which our lives were different. They were very interested to see how Americans view Kenyans. Unfortunately, much of the truth is that Americans see the poverty level, the HIV epidemic, and the violence before anything else. Oh, and they have animals. And wasn't Barack from there? I tried to pair this view with my own desires for coming to Kenya and gaining a perspective rich enough to educate and inform, so I'm hoping it's not the overall impression they took home that day about Americans. It even felt awkward to mention the general American's perspective on Kenya to people that had become friends in such a short time. It didn't fit them at all. Hopefully, they felt their general perspective on Americans was also oddly placed in the context of our newfound relationships. One labeled America as "up here" while Kenya is "down here." America as the ideal they were striving for... This struck me as somewhat sad- I definitely didn't ever think of myself as setting a bar for others, and definitely didn't think about devaluing others' way of life while I was at it. Ugh, the weight. But I think this is how attitudes start changing. We're both made more aware and will continue to live in such a way condusive to this relationship.

I'm moving to Meru on Thursday after I get cleared on my swine flu status. The weekend we spent there made me look forward to my time there immensely. Not sure if I mentioned my placement change, but I am now working in a primary school. I'll be teaching music or english, or whatever they need. I can't wait to get started there, and to make Meru my new home.

Random Update: Orientation

2009-09-15T07:11:00.000-07:00

I’ve been in orientation for the past couple weeks. I’m feeling slightly more oriented- still getting used to the idea of being on the other side of the globe. Jet lag was hard to overcome, but was helped by the excitement of my host family who kept me awake, showed me around, and immersed me into the culture rather quickly. They were very warm and welcoming, calling me their daughter all weekend. My two younger sisters really made me feel at home with plenty of Kiswahili lessons, Beyonce singing, and Tusker Project 3 watching (their version of American Idol). They were a joy, but more on them later…

For the most part, we’ve been taking some Kiswahili in the morning, and then we attend lectures in the afternoon on Kenyan history, politics, religion, economics, ethnicity, etc. All the lectures have been given by very distinguished officials here, and have been pretty mind-blowing. I wish I knew more economics. The systematic oppression of the World Bank/IMF stuff is dizzying. And depressing.

Highlights apart from the schedule have included visiting A New Life, an orphanage for 0-3 year olds who are diagnosed with HIV. It was a very moving experience to be able to play with them and to see the new opportunities they are given from being there. It’s definitely good to be literally “in touch” with this issue while we’re here. I won’t forget them, and hence won’t be able to forget easily the HIV epidemic and how it affects, devastatingly, the “least of these.”

As a group, we’ve been growing together and are having a blast interacting with each other and all the Kenyans we meet. All in all, we’ve been really spoiled so far, living in a doctor’s “guest house,” being dinner guests at important people’s houses, eating delicious food cooked by my coordinator, and getting taken around in our own van everywhere we go. Not a lot of “on the ground” stuff yet, but at least we can hit it running after we get our heads filled with all this good stuff.

I was in Meru this past weekend with the group, which is where I’ll be living and working for the year. I LOVED it and am very excited to move. More on that later as I’m running out of space and time.

Tutaonana! Kwa heri!

Taking it all in...

2009-09-15T06:34:00.000-07:00

It’s hard to process so much new at once, so I’m breaking it down a bit.

SIGHTS:

-Beautiful lush foliage. Despite the drought here, everything besides the grass remains green. At least in these upper class neighborhoods we’ve been staying in… Beautiful flowers: bougainvillea, birds of paradise, poinsettias. Everything grows here.

-The drought has brought cow herds at random to Nairobi. They are moving further and further into the cities in search of pasture. They block traffic.

-Speaking of traffic. There’s a lot of it, and unparallel to any other I have experienced. I rode their public transportation aka a matatu. First of all, I was squished, as they are cargo vans that they pack about 20 people in (max and legal amount is 14). As soon as one of these matatus approaches a jam, they swerve up on the sidewalk, or chance the diameter of a roundabout, or blatantly bustle down the wrong way on a one-way to bypass it. Time is money for them. Unfortunately, it’s also my life. Don’t worry, I’m told that even though they drive dangerously, they are very competent drivers.

-Nairobi is a mass of people and traffic everywhere. It feels like a big American city at rush hour all day. It’s all a lot more confusing and random for me though since I am so unfamiliar. They have some nice building structures and are trying to make it greener, but for the most part it feels like the city is consumed in one big pollution cloud. Lots of gray. I felt like I could finally breathe again when I was out in the ‘burbs again. Hopefully, I’ll find my niche there sometime.

- The disparity between the rich and the poor is definitely seen (at a second look) in their neighborhoods. There are large Italian style villas that have extensive grounds and full time staffed security right next to some of the largest slums in Africa- piles of sheet metal shacks on top of each other in a rut of mud. I almost missed them, but when my host father was taking me on a tour, we turned the corner and behind the large wall, a whole different world.

SMELLS:

-Smoke: people burning garbage, pollution

-Earth: people kicking up dust everywhere they go

-Sweet Tea Incense: there is some sweet smell, kind of like the tea steeping or fruit being sliced or squeezed

-All combines for something distinct, haunting, and actually pleasant

SOUNDS:

-A hip-hop reggae combo is popular here- similar to Reggaeton but African, if that makes sense. It blasts out the matatus.

-Church choirs seem to be practicing all the time here. The sound radiates from the open sanctuary windows. I wish I heard some distinctly African accapella action, but I’ve only been picking up on interesting sounding versions of American contemporary worship music.

-Kiswahili greetings and conversations as well as people speaking in their various mother tongues. English and Kiswahili are used pretty interchangeably here, and many times combined to form ShENG. ShENG should be announced the official language of Kenya. But besides these, there are 42 tribes, all with their own languages. Frequently, Kenyans speak at least three languages. I’m struggling to learn one new one.

-A cacophony of car horns and matatu drivers whistling for passengers.

-There is a 10% Muslim population in Kenya. Especially in Nairobi, you’ll hear the call to prayer from the mosques.

TOUCH:

-Everyone shakes hands in Kenya, and they do it for hello and good-bye, and even if you’ve met the person before a million times. I’m also a fan of the female-friend cheek touching on each side.

- The red dirt in Kenya definitely contrasts the green around it, and it clings to your skin and clothes. I never thought I’d use “dusty” as a way to describe how I feel. I like it though.

-We do a lot of praying. A lot of hand holding. Before meals, after meals. Before meetings, after meetings. Out loud, at the same time, all the time…

TASTE:

-I have drank a million cups of tea. Black, made with milk and sugar. It’s delicious and people offer it everywhere at all hours of the day. A great way to get to know someone.

- Nescafe. Gross. They grow the stuff, why don’t they drink it?

-Delicious fresh produce everywhere. I swear to you bananas have never tasted this good. Oh, and there’s passion fruit, papaya, guava, mango, avocado etc all readily available off the side of the road or at markets all over the place.

-A traditional Kenyan meal has some combination of rice, ugali (a grits kind of substance), a stew with vegetables and meat (maybe goat), beans, cabbage, chapatti (a crepe like thing), and beans and corn. Pretty good. Still gaining a taste for it.

PIC: host family members gnawing on some sugar cane

Soon to be on a jet plane

2009-08-31T11:34:00.000-07:00

Leaving in 2 hours for Kenya. I am a big ball of nerves and energy, and even calmness as the time approaches. It was a very spiritually rich time for me at orientation this week. About 70 of us gathered together to gear up for assuming national or international placements as part of the program. For most of us, it means leaving all that we know behind for a year of the unknown. I've been reassured, though, by all the stories we've gathered from former YAVs. Largely, tales of finding mutuality in mission, and being constantly reminded of how God meets us on the margins. It was encouraging to hear their discomfort and awkward moments, but also about their moments when they found their true selves in their relationships with those they were "serving." At this point, I haven't gained any new information on what my job will be or what our month-long orientation schedule will look like, but I am excited to gain my own stories.

PS: pic of Cameron (India), myself, and Dana (Guatemala)- all getting psyched for our flights

Placement and Promise

2009-08-11T20:31:00.001-07:00

I have learned my placement: theYWCA . I'm thrilled to be working with women and am encouraged by the Y's social agenda. The YWCA was the first women's organization established in Kenya. It seems they are well rooted concentrating on HIV/AIDS education, prevention, and awareness, sustainable development (micro-finance and the like), human rights (stopping and speaking out about violence against women), and leadership training and development. My proposed location is Meru, Kenya- supposedly one of the most beautiful areas near Mt. Kenya.

Fundraising is looking more and more promising, and I'm blown over by the kindness and generosity of individuals. Major props to Westmoreland UCC, their members and their Board of Community Action that has made major contributions. It was an honor and a blessing to be part of the Westmoreland Volunteer Corps. They are serious about their support, getting me off to my future on even footing here. I've enjoyed so much hearing your stories and am feeling very fueled by them. Thank you!

And we have lift off!

2009-05-30T10:04:00.000-07:00

Swahili: Asante
def: Thank You!

A huge thanks to the Blackhawk Presbytery who has donated $1,250 towards my fund raising goal of $9,000 with a promise that they will match your donations dollar for dollar up to $3,000 more. Words cannot express my gratitude. Kenya, we have lift off.

Deanna

For Starters...

2009-05-17T19:07:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my blog documenting my year in Nairobi, Kenya. Thanks for taking an interest in my adventure.

In anticipation of many questions regarding this off-beat trajectory, an interview with myself:

Deanna, this seems so crazy! How are you getting to go to Kenya?

Good question, self, but it's not as crazy as you might think. I heard about the Young Adult Volunteer Program while I was in high school, and thought it would be a great mix of connecting to my Presbyterian roots in service, while also discerning my Presbyterian and social work future. The program places young adults in five different countries, and placements within the U.S. in service positions. There is focus on community with the other volunteers and becoming community where we all are placed. Throughout the year, support is filtered through churches where we are serving, knowledgeable site coordinators, host /adopted families, and work communities.

Ok, but you could have gone many places. Why Kenya?

All prospective volunteers (around 40 of us) gathered for one weekend in Louisville and discerned and discerned over the different countries. I felt most connected to and challenged by the Kenya placements, and living conditions. The Kenya program felt the same about me...and here we are. That said, I have never been to Africa, much less Kenya, and am now ferociously devouring books and movies and random Kiswahili vocabulary. Not knowing is some of the appeal because I believe I have the most growing to do in my knowledge of this part of the world.

When do you leave and come back?

September 1st- August '10.

Then what?

Ah, you are getting ahead of yourself. Stay tuned. Ok, possibly an MSW/MDiv combo somewhere. I'm not going to kid you.

So what will you be doing?

That is a big T-B-D right now. I'm preferencing work with women in a domestic violence shelter, as I would like to focus on women's groups and issues in my social work practice later on in life, and believe the experience there would be invaluable in comparison. Other cool things would be possibly traveling around the country and writing for Church World Service's newsletter, maybe working on the Sudan/Kenya border with refugees, or maybe doing some other work with organizations working on Christian/Muslim relations. A lot of BE-ing in Kenya and seeing where it takes me...and DO-ing that.

Well this sounds nice, but how are you going to pay for all this?

Ah, you are right. It is a sweet experience with a price. I'm hoping that people will support me with their prayers, love, letters, good vibes, and financial support. I hope they follow my blog, and connect to the cause with a commitment going into my online account. I am open and available to come speak about my experience to your group or church community upon return.

Thank you for taking an interest. Stay tuned!
-Deanna