Mwimutoni Village

Alrighty. When I forget my Blogger password, I think that means it's been too long since I've blogged. What can I say, it's tough to reassimilate. (Re-assimilate? Hmm. Obviously, I'm still assimilating if I am all wonky with my hyphens.)

We'll pick up where I left off, Day 3 (July 12).

This morning I awoke, showered, and went to breakfast with the team. Felt a little GI distress, but ate anyway, which was probably a good idea because I needed the protein to get me through the next several hours (here marks the one time I took a Cipro the entire trip--praise God!). We drove up to the overloook (this was slightly northwest of Nairobi), and saw Mwimutoni village from the highway. It was absolutely beautiful.

I cannot believe there are no cars (aside from maybe one that's down there from time to time with an aid worker, I think?) and, therefore, a woman who is in labor has to climb several miles to the road to be able to get transport to a hospital. Unbelievable. Many women have reportedly delivered on their way up that ginormous hill. Anyway, with gravity on our side we drove down this incredibly eroded, bumpy, unkempt, treacherous road (I won't complain about KyDOT again anytime soon) to the ledge, or escarpment, where the village is. The "town center" consists of a few unmatched, stark-looking buildings (one a grocery, another a "hotel" among others, all of which looked abandoned on this Sunday morning), annd a patchwork of fields that contained corn, beans, sunflowers, and other growing items.

We turned left at the Center of Hope, where there was a group of children--probably ages 5 to 14--dancing and singing. Later I found out they were practicing for a presentation for the American team to be given later in the day. There were a couple groups of kids sitting/lounging in the grass, watching the ones dancing. A two-room building at the Center had a kitchen where several women were cooking a meal. They were cooking over wood/either on a stove or over a fire on the ground--I'm having trouble remembering.

Anyway, we went over first and saw the well that Centenary helped fund. I was continually struck by how the light filtered through the leaves (stalks?) of the corn and other crops/plants/trees in fields around us. The way the light was cast on the Escarpment was also memorable (how the Rift Valley below/behind it looked flatter/grayer and the Escarpment was more golden and dimensional ... everything having to do with perspective, I'm sure, but it was striking).

We watched the children dance some more, danced with them even (the kids who were watching were laughing!) and then divided into groups to go to church. (This is where my notes of the day ended, so I'm working from memory now--it seems I was drifting off to sleep as I journaled each night! Such exhausting and wonderful days).

I walked with a boy named James who was in his mid-teens and was hoping to become a doctor. He plays the piano and was very interested in finding out if I did, too. I was scared to let on that I had any piano experience for fear he'd put me up there in front of 200 Kenyans and ask me to play (when I haven't in years ... thankfully, no one asked). He was very well-spoken and seemed keen to practice his English. I remember noticing here that the "body bubble" of a Kenyan (at least Kenyans in this region) is a little smaller than that of Americans. He walked really close, and from then on the day was a portrait of closeness between two cultures. We went to a church about a mile away called the Africa Inland Church. It was a fairly good-sized building with three rows of pews, I remember. It was the first time I had been an utter minority in a setting such as this, something I would get used to very quickly!

The pastor/elders (besides Joseph, who helps run the Center of Hope, these were the only men we saw all day) invited the team members present (Julie, Denise, Maura, and me) up to the front of the church, where we gave greetings along with interpreters for the first time. The rest of the service was confusing at times, but one of the elders was translating the Swahili for us. There were several collections of offerings, which caught me off guard a little--I put a good bit in there the first time, thinking that was the only chance to give. I was taking notes in a little notebook, and a girl sitting next to me in a black-and-white-striped top and fluorescent yellow cardigan sitting next to me was clearly watching my penmanship and trying to read what I was writing.

I was struck by the smells. Anyone who knows me knows I have a very sensitive nose. Somehow, some way (God's grace, I'm sure), I was able to get through those days in Kenya when I was sitting close to smells of body odor that I hadn't quite experienced since unfortunate days of gym class in high school when not everyone remembered to get their gym uniforms laundered.

Anyway, back to church. I remember the message being inspiring to us, but yet also frustrating, because while the message was one of the importance of unity among the church and peoples, the pastor didn't address the many divisions there are between tribes in Kenya--divisions which are the source of a lot of the corruption, poverty, and crime in this country. I didn't notice this as much as Julie did--she's been here several times, after all, and is more familiar with the struggles the country faces. After church we headed outside, where churchgoers sat in the grass and the pastor auctioned off items to raise money for the church. I bid on a kikuyu (sp?) cloth, but the price got too high for what I had with me that day after the offering.

I met the girl who, with her friends, shared the pew with me. Rosie was her name, and she was 14, I believe, and very fashionable as far as the village was concerned. She is friends with Ann, the girl in green who was leading the dancing at the Center of Hope when we arrived. Both are beautiful girls. As we headed back to the COH, another little girl (now I know she's a girl because that day she was wearing pants, which threw me off, because everyone keeps their heads shaved closely for school uniformity requirements! ... I later saw a photo of her from another day where she was wearing a skirt, so I know now she's a girl!) grabbed my hand and held it tightly on the entire walk back with the group of orphans and their caretakers/caretakers' families. She was wearing an orange sweatshirt and a Michigan stocking cap.

Yes, all of the Americans were sweating like pigs, and the Kenyans were wearing stocking caps and sweaters. It was amusing. You should've seen how obsessed the kids were with me constantly applying sunblock. They weren't grasping the concept of sunburn on my very fair skin!

It was somewhat idyllic, walking down that dirt path, holding the hand of a young orphan and silently taking in the scenery--a donkey tied by the pastern to a shed, a bike on its side by the road with a bushel of greens--and yet hearing the quiet conversations behind us of other members of the team with older orphans who had more confidence with their English. I didn't feel like I knew enough Swahili to even try, but it was one of those scenes where no one really needed to talk. We were just spending time well, in community.

Upon returning to the COH, Julie and I walked another mile or so to the place where the town collects water (if they cannot afford the 2 shillings to fill a container at the well--they've had to start charging to help cover the electricity it takes to run the well. To give you perspective, 1,000 shillings is the equivalent of about $12. Few can afford the 2 shillings.). It was a murky, shallow creek, with a pile of animal dung just a few feet away. I was saddened that this is what villagers often drink. Julie says on one trip to Mwimutonoi, she challenged herself to carry the water from the stream with a strap around her head, and she said it was one of the hardest things she's ever done! I believe it.

On our return from the alternate water source (or primary, depending on how you look at it), we came across children on bikes, livestock walking on the road, women carrying items on their head ... it was a cornucopia of happy, joyous activity that I hadn't expected to encounter). I snapped a shot:

And so, to keep from burning out on blogging just as I'm gaining steam again, I'm going to pause for the evening and pick up later. Mwimutoni was a big day for our team members, so I want to make sure I'm thorough. :)

Take a Little Trip: Kenya, Day 1

Or a big one. This was a pretty big trip ... as far as trips are concerned for me. I'd been hoping to go on a cross-cultural mission trip for years. Like I said in a letter to friends a few weeks before the trip, I thought this theoretical mission trip would take me to Central or South America to work with kids. Who knew that nine or so years after writing that goal/dream/hope down, I'd be embarking on a trip to Kenya to work with children, high school students, and adult women. God knew what He was doing all along (Why do I question Him so very, very often?), and he steered me toward Kenya in His subtle, but deliberate ways until I committed to this trip in March.

Click here to view these pictures larger

Yes, it took me two weeks to get the words flowing (*deep inhale, bigger exhale*). You might not get to see everything that went in the pages of the travel journal. Sometimes less, sometimes more (regrettably, I didn't get to pick up the pen every night or the following morning). But I'll show you around, surely, and introduce you to a few of my new Kenyan and South African friends.

Day 1: Settling into Nairobi (July 11)

Got in yesterday around 6 a.m. I had a mild scare in J'burg when an agent on the jetway decided to take my bag (and travelers with bags the same size were being waved past). Some naysayers on the jetway beside me said I probably wouldn't be seeing my belongings again, so they hoped I'd enjoyed them. (Joy stealers!!) Anyway, I worried about it for about 10 minutes and then decided there was not a whole lot I could do about it.

Everyone on the plane that I encountered seem tired, travel-weary, cynical, impatient. I guess that's what happens on a 3.5-hour flight that's a red-eye to Nairobi. Upon getting in the visa stuff was pretty straightforward. I discovered my planeside-checked carry-on (the one the agent took and I wasn't supposed to see again) was perfectly fine, untouched. [Funny thing: my two checked pieces of luggage, a regular-sized suitcase and a sterilite container of ministry supplies, were diverted to Amsterdam for some reason. So, thanks to my carry-on being untouched, I had something to wear for the next two days!]

We had our first big day today of traveling around NBO, seeing some more of the area--from the slums to the ritzy shopping centers. It is quite a juxtaposition, the gigantic iPhone 3GS ad hovering above the poverty. It's a juxtaposition I'm sure I'll see a lot of in the next few days.

Today my last bag was delivered after we discovered that they'd only found the supply container this morning. We had prayed this morning that all of my luggage would arrive. I could do fine without it, of course, but a great deal of comfort can come from having the things you'd planned to have with you, with you. It was great to walk into the Methodist Guest House tonight and see my final bag. Now I don't have to freeze when I'm in South Africa at the end of my trip or in the evenings here (it gets fairly cool). So glad I brought the jacket that I did in my carry-on.


Today we visited the elephant orphanage and the giraffe park. Both were fantastic--I loved seeing the animals, their facial expressions (yes, pachyderms have fantastic facial expressions) and funny habits. It was good to bond with the team further, and I hope to continue to get to know them better. As a single woman in her 30s without a family, I don't have all that much in common with them, besides Christ and our church and this trip, but I know that's enough.

Like others might be feeling, I wonder if I've prepared enough for this trip. There's some anxiety at the moment--a little. I hope I begin to rebound in terms of feeling "up to speed." I wonder what it is God will have me contribute? Can I really stand up there and lead worship with a lot of people in front of me that I do not know or feel comfortable with yet? Wow. I need to pray for enabling in these roles. How do you want me to serve, Lord?

Some things I quoted July 11:
"You may be insecure, inadequate, mistaken, or potbellied. Death, panic, depression, and disillusionment maybe near you. But you are not just that. You are accepted. Never confuse your perception of yourself with the mystery that you really are accepted."--Page 29, The Ragamuffin Gospel

"The Lord said, 'My grace is enough for you. My power is at its best in weakness.' So shall I be very happy to make my weakness my special boast so that the power of Christ may stay over me."--2 Corinthians 12:9

Reflections on July 11 post-trip: Yes, I was a little concerned, shall we say, but I felt a peace that kind of undergirded me in those first few days despite the fact that I wasn't acquainted with all the details of the trip. It makes me laugh, because the P (perceiver) in my ENFP was given a chance to really rest in Kenya. I'm generally a P living in a J world, and so I have some strong J tendencies in my day to day. Kenya definitely operates on a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, relaxed schedule, filled with community and never rushing.

The prior day, the one where I'd arrived, I had been so very happy to see Julie (missions pastor) in the airport beyond the international arrivals barrier. After 36+ hours of traveling, seeing a familiar face what just what I needed. Granted, my bags were in Amsterdam (How exciting for them! I've never been there.), but it was good to be in the country I'd be for the next 10 days and to become acquainted with the new scenery.

First, I remember being shocked by the number of people walking to and fro on the side of the road. Rarely are there sidewalks, just a worn dirt path. All types of individuals were on this path, from the clearly poverty-stricken to the businesswoman in heels carrying a briefcase, and the traditionally outfitted woman carrying a child to the gentleman pushing a gigantic cart full of bottles (likely for water). I didn't expect to see so very many bicycles either. They were old, sturdy, quality ones that had to have been maintained well to be useful to these people (funny, back home we just toss the old rusty bike from years past or sell it in a yard sale and buy a new one). The drivers of the matatus, which are public transportation for the Kenyans, are a bit frightening--they careen in and out of lanes and the guy that operates the door leans out and seemingly whisks passengers up into the brightly colored vans. Some play loud music and have sayings on the side that don't make much sense (i.e., DOUBLE FOCUS!!), and some have pop culture references, such as a photo of Mariah Carey on the back.

Julie, her daughter Maura, and went to the market after I took a short, 1.5-hour nap. You'll see that I'm still wearing my green shirt below. I wore that shirt a lot before my luggage arrived. :) (Below: travel weary, but happy to be with new friends.)


I was surprised that I could read most all of the signs. Some of the businesses had names that were amusing ("Happy Butchery"). The soft drinks were pretty tasty--I loved this drink called a Stoney, which is like a really spicy ginger ale (see above). It's like an Ale-8, with more bite. We were always drinking bottled water, of course, although there was reportedly trustworthy water in the pitchers in the rooms. I slept with the mosquito net around me the first night in Nairobi, but I got very claustrophobic, and then quickly realized that it was a bit chilly for mosquitoes, nor did I ever see one. So far I haven't come down with malaria, so I guess I made an OK decision.

Having lunch at the Java House between the elephants and the giraffes gave us a chance to eat in a Western setting one last time before we were fully submerged in cuisine containing a lot of potatoes, rice, and chipati (fried bread, which was pretty amazing, IMHO).

The elephant orphanage pics really speak for themselves. The little pachyderms were affectionate and very tactile, always wrapping their trunks around the handlers' arms and sidling up next to their best friends. A baby rhino was full of himself--rolling around in and launching up out of the mud that the handlers created for him and then galloping around and even past the barrier and into the crowd, even (whoops). There were some dirty shins/pants/shoes because of the little guy. :) We saw some baboons on the side of the roads during the drives. They looked like shady/shifty characters to me, but I've never been much of a primate fan. (Chimps are OK, but these are their somewhat less-polite cousins). I also heard a story about how one brazen baboon walked right up to the other mission team group the prior week, distracted a girl by pulling her hair while the other stole her banana. Or something bizarre like that.

(I know we're doing a lot of touristy stuff right now ... bear with me, I've got to get through this part before diving into Mwimutoni tomorrow. We have to start with the light stuff first. :-))

Click here to view these pictures larger

Ahhh, giraffes. I love them. Even though I misspelled the word "giraffe" in the spelling bee in the 3rd grade (and I'm over that, really!), I still love them. Bottom line, I got to meet some really sweet giraffes, one of whom was named Daisy and was (get this) something like 13 months pregnant (they gestate 14-15 months). She was a very round giraffe. These lovely creatures have very rough tongues with saliva that has an astringent quality. So when I got licked by a giraffe (or four ... I was trying to get a good photo), my cheek/chin was fully exfoliated.

There was a great "giraffe crossing" sign in the road near the giraffe park that I completely missed with my camera. Ah, next time.

Something else really neat that we did that day in the Nairobi area was visit a place called Kazuri. This word means "beautiful" in Swahili. The women who create the beautiful beads at this site in Karen (an area named after the woman immortalized in "Out of Africa") are single moms and creating these handmade clay beads serves as a way for them to support their families. The women had already left for the day, but a gentleman gave us a really nice overview and showed us clay and beads at different points in the process, explaining that most of their necklaces are made to order and sent to the United States, with countries like Australia just behind ours. When he took us to the store, it was almost overwhelming--there were thousands of one-of-a-kind gorgeous necklaces, bracelets, and earrings, and they were less than $20 each. I came home and it turns out these are about $80 if you buy them from here. (Soooo, if I were to go back, I'd tackle Christmases and birthdays for the next five years.) I have worn my pink beads and earrings about 7 times in the past two weeks, I think.

The team members all gathered for dinner at the UM guest house that night and talked about plans for Mwimutoni the next morning, when the ministry officially began.

Casual Observer

Today I'm helping an exceptionally talented photographer friend of mine shoot a wedding. It's a relatively low-stress way to earn a little extra cash, and while I'm no JLo or Katherine Heigl (although sometimes I've seen a little bit of me reflected in their planner and bridesmaid-themed films), I really kind of enjoy it.

Witnessing the "big day" of a couple you don't know is a novel scenario every time. The body language of the bride and groom, their family members, their wedding party, etc., are all very interesting to observe. Being an objective witness and a ENFP (although very much a 'J' in this capacity) means I pick up on the emotion of different parties fairly easily. I notice the wide eyes of excitement, nervous glances, big grins of expectancy, crossed arms of discomfort, squeezes of joy, the deep breaths of composure, the tugs at dresses that might feel a little too snug in 90 degrees, and the rotating of the ankles and feet that don't necessarily feel comfortable in new dress shoes.

And since I generally don't know anyone and will rarely run into these people again, I can just throw myself into helping and to always being a couple steps ahead. I'm the ambiguous tall girl who kind of floats around and does whatever is needed. I don't have any responsibilities other than making sure my friend has the shots that he needs. Flowers missing? I'm already high-tailing it down to the fridge in the kitchen for the vases and for a towel to keep the bouquet from dripping on The Dress. Photo subjects that keep wandering off? Learn their names and check and make sure they're there every 5 minutes or so. I've got it down pretty well.

As an avid people person who enjoys watching how people interact and connect, this plays right into my strengths. So I'm very lucky to be able to help and to be around some beautifully decked-out people on a day that they'll always remember.

Yay, today should be fun. I wonder what I'll get to witness. :)