No Electricity, No Big Deal

Yesterday afternoon I came home from school and discovered that my electricity was out again, my cell phone battery had just died, and my laptop battery was about to die so I had no way to contact anyone about the problem.  The frozen food I had just purchased from Costco would have no place to go, and that’s about $30 in the trash.  Reverting to my selfish perspective, I started to get upset and ask, “Why does this keep happening to me?”  This little upset in my schedule of surfing the web, charging electronics, and enjoying lights brought my world to a grinding halt.

Meanwhile half a world away a little girl’s treatment for HIV stopped being effective and she is really sick--she may need to start quinine but that is a last resort.  Another woman is sick with typhoid and an intestinal infection.  A boy is healing from third degree burns on his arm from helping carry a hot meal for others.

Going without electricity for a day seems to pale in comparison to these larger problems.  Oh, that I could get past my own selfish needs to see the needs of others!

Living for the Afterlife--An Eternal Perspective

In a sermon from my home church in Colorado Springs, the pastor discussed life after death and how that should impact how we live on earth.  If I am to “run with endurance the race God has set before” me as stated in Hebrews 12:1, what does that look like with an eternal perspective?   

This got me to thinking about my experiences in Mexico and Kenya.  Both of these countries place a high value on relationships, much more so than on work or production (which leads to MANY of my frustrations).  This switch in mindset is one of the reasons I believe God took me away from my American comforts of hard work = success.  Although my job in Colorado was not without its trials and frustrations or impact on relationships, I became consumed with being the best I could be as an educator.  I don’t think that was all bad—my students and colleagues deserve the best I can offer them, but the problem began when I lost my eternal perspective.  I was no longer trying to be the best at my job so that I could impact lives for Christ; it was about earning more money, earning the admiration of my coworkers, employers, and my friends.  It wasn’t that I became a horrible person and became work-obsessed, but rather it was I lost my vision.  I think that is why God put the bug in me to look at teaching abroad so that He could refocus my vision and purpose.

If you have read my blog entries from the first part of the school year, you have seen how painful this object lesson was and continues to be for me.  It is never easy to be stripped of a habit.  Ask any ex-smoker, ex-drinker, ex- anything that was addictive and I’m pretty sure that person will tell you it was incredibly difficult to quit and the temptation to start again is overwhelming at times.  I feel the same way about this shift in thinking.  In a world that constantly inundates us with the belief that to be successful means higher salaries, expensive possessions, and having more than your neighbor, it’s difficult to live for something else, something more meaningful.  Yet that is what God calls us to, and it is more than anything this world has to offer. 

When I first came to Mexico, I thought it was because of the job.  I was hired (at least this is how I perceived it) to help usher in the IB Programme to this school in Mexico.  My expertise in the program was going to help bring great change to the school…  But the great change hasn’t happened in the school.  In fact, my expertise has no place here, at least for now.  God did not bring me to Mexico so that I could use all of the knowledge I’ve gained in education to help the school.  On the contrary, God brought me here to reprogram my thinking, to show me that this life is not about the acquisition of knowledge or becoming the expert.  Life is about relationship.  It is through relationship that Purpose is free to ask questions and learn about God.  It is through relationship that people are touched and brought to the feet of God.  It is through relationship that God is able to use me to further His Kingdom.

When I get to Heaven and give account of my life, I don’t want to give a list of all of the degrees I’ve earned or all of the knowledge I’ve gained, I want to tell of the people I’ve loved and the relationships I’ve forged that helped bring people into relationship with God.  And I think it is through relationships that God will say, “Well done, my good and faithful servant,” and oh, how I long to hear those words from my Father and Master.

And ironically, as I write about a need for a change in perspective, I am in the midst of teaching a unit about perspective to my 6th graders with the guiding question, "How can I flip my thinking".  God certainly has a sense of humor!

The Adjustment

Now that I’ve had a few days to readjust to the time-zone, school-zone, and Spanish-zone, I owe you all an update.

First of all, here is a link to pictures I took while in Kenya: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150811669366419.472839.596911418&type=3&l=37625cc1da.  I hope that these pictures help to shed more light on the descriptions in my previous blog posts.  While pictures may say a thousand words, millions are needed to give you a glimpse into what Kenya is really like.

Slipping back into the life I’ve established in Mexico wasn’t as difficult as I had thought it would be.  The limited amount of Spanish I knew before heading for Kenya still remains.  My students have been behaving well (that could have something to do with the video I showed them over the past two days…).  My apartment has running water and electricity, and my internet even works most of the time.  Life has resumed its course, and I’m back in the midst of it.  I have been relishing the many opportunities I’ve had to share my pictures and stories from Kenya with others.  Seeing the faces of the children and the cooks from the children’s home makes me miss them terribly, but I know with time that pain will ebb until it is just a distant memory.  In some ways this is good because it will allow me to focus on the present and what my purpose is right now, but in other ways I fear I will forget the lessons God taught me while I was there.

I have 46 days left with my students, and of those maybe only 40 of them teachable days.  At this point I am neither overly excited nor overly sad about the brevity of my time remaining.  I am excited about my future, but not anxious.  I’m just focusing on one day at a time, making the best of what I have, and living in the moment.

Re-entry wasn’t so bad, but maybe I’m just in denial. :)

Goodbyes are the Worst!

13-14 April 2012

Saying goodbye sucks.  Although the English Language is chockablock with descriptive words, “sucks” is the best in this case.  Having to issue this phrase sucks all of the emotions buried deep inside and brings them to the surface.  Having to receive this phrase uttered through downcast eyes and desperate hugs sucks the life right out of you.  Goodbyes contain very little “good”—at least in some circumstances.  Even as I write this (12 hours after the words were spoken), I find my tears are being sucked out onto this page.

Over the past two weeks I have diligently built relationships with specific people at InStep (the children’s home): Shirlyn (13 years old), Peris (cook), and Vero (also a cook).  But it wasn’t until the last three or four days that I broke through their defenses and they started to let their guard down.  This is no small feat with the amount of visitors that come through the children’s home on a regular basis.  It’s easier to stay detached than to invest in a relationship and then have that relationship disappear, not likely to return again.  Shirlyn opened up after I spent three hours alone with her at the eye clinic.  When we started to walk out of the clinic, she grabbed my hand and that is how we exited the hospital, hand-in-hand.  In the taxi on the ride home, Shirlyn rested her head on my shoulder.  This may not seem like much, especially since Shirlyn is so friendly and sweet-natured, but this was a pretty big deal—something just finally clicked after the eye-clinic.  Maybe it was all of the science knowledge I shared with her about the human eye and making her solve math problems with her eyes closed while her pupils were dilating… J  Whatever the reason, it was pretty special.  Peris and Vero were a bit more gradual in dropping their guards.  They are around the same age as I am (26/27 years old), so that made us more equal, but the girls really began to open up little by little with the more time I spend in the Kitchen.  I tried to do the things they did, and they were very patient in showing me the steps and laughing at my feeble attempts.  I washed dishes, tried to mop the floor the way they do with a duster (or towel for you non-Kenyan people), sorted maize and beans several times, tried to cut skuma and other vegetables the way they do, and just talked to them about life and God.  And it seems like just when I break through with these amazing girls, I have to say goodbye, furiously trying not to cry, promising to write, and desperately planning in my head when I can return again to spend more time with them.  All three of these girls worked their way into my heart, and to have to leave them is almost unbearable! 

Saying goodbye to Teddy broke my heart too.  When I walked into the room, I called Teddy’s name, and he came and wrapped his little arms around my legs and wouldn’t let go.  I don’t know if he sensed that something was changing, but he just clung to me, forcing me to have to rip him away.  I tickled him and placed him on the mat and had to walk away before I started bawling.

I MUST return—if for no other reason than to show these girls and Teddy that I am invested in them and that I am not just a typical visitor.  I don’t think I am done with Kenya—I feel like God is just beginning something with Kenya and I.  I have absolutely no idea what it will look like, but I just have a feeling something more is coming, and the funny part is that doesn’t scare me at all.  I feel a peace about my future role with Kenya whatever form it takes.  And I will scrimp and save wherever I can to get back there.

Dump Run

9 April 2012

Today my dad took Danae, James (the farmer here at InStep), and I into Kitale to run a few arrends. We dropped James off in town to haggle over prices of agricultural goods because Kenyans get better deals than white people, and then we headed to the dump. I'm not really sure where to begin describing the dump, so my thoughts may be a bit scattered--I know, I know, my thoughts are always scattered, but bear with me.

There is a family that runs the dump and they haven't been paid for two years by the government. And now the family has been given a notice that they have to move out of the house on the dump property for who knows what reason. This is a family that subsists on sorting through the trash for items they can sell for a minimal profit. Their job at the dump is to burn the trash that comes in. The mom was seriously burned last year while tending a fire because something in the fire exploded. The hospital, along with everyone else in the surrounding area of Kitale, comes and dumps their used needles and trash. The kids run around barefoot in this filth and pick up who knows what diseases. These living conditions would be reprehensible anywhere in the US or Canada, but this is normal here in Kenya. As we were saying good-bye to the dump family, the father kept asking my dad for help and money to fix the situation. My dad told the guy that he can't ask for help; if God says to help and brings my dad or Jeff to the family to help that's ok, but the guy can't ask for it. It seems like if you are mzungu (white person), that means you have money and give hand-outs to people. And while most white people who come to Kenya do have much more than the vast population of Kenya, us giving all out money to one person is not going to bring help or change to this country.

I'll tell you, life on the compound of the children's home is a lot easier to deal with than life outside it. The children's home provides a shelter from the worst parts of Kenya. It's easy to forget where I am when I'm surrounded by children who are loved and cared for, but step outside into the community and you will see the poverty and affluence that mix like water and oil.

Easter in Kenya

Happy Easter! I never thought I would be celebrating a holiday on the other side of the world, but here I am in Kenya!

Foregoing the Easter basket and egg hunt, I embarked on my day by trying to hide in the Kitchen. You see, yesterday after lunch we sprayed the Veranda for cockroaches, and that happens to be the place where all of the kids' clothes, blankets, and sheets are stored. So yesterday we (the older kids and Danae and I) hauled ALL of the clothes outside to shake out the bugs and dirt and then stack them in a hallway. Aftr thoroughly wiping down all of the surfaces after the room was sprayed, we didn't have time to put all of the clothes away, so that meant thattoday, Easter Sunday, was the day to put everything away! Now you have to understand what an undertaking this was. There are around 107 kids here, and only the older kids take care of their clothes. So 100 kids worth of clothing is stored in window seats in the Veranda. That's underwear, pants, shirts, sweatshirts, and pajamas multiplied for 3-5 days worth for EACH kid! This all adds up to a MOUNTAIN of clothes, and if you're thinking about scaling such a mountain, be sure to pack oxygen canisters! Because we had the older kids "helping", and because we didn't think of keeping the piles seperated ahead of time, ALL of the clothes, blankets, and sheets were piled together, leaving us to sort the heaping mass later. Most of the kids were helpful, but only two of them knew where everything went. Suffice it to say, it took us about 5 hours just to sort and put away the mound today.

In the midst of this feat, we breaked for kids church, ate lunch, had a big rain/hail storm, and read an Easter story. The kids church was all in Swahili and began and ended with songs led by the kids with clapping, singing, and drums. Lunch was followed by a big rain/hail storm which according to my dad is typical during the "rainy season". This rain turned the paths and roads into rushing rivers, some of which flowed into the Veranda. Once the rains slowed enough to hear people talking, I read the kids a story about Jesus' death and resurrection told from the perspective of a merchant during the time of Jesus. Mama Carla read this to the big kids last year, but this year we included the 4-yr-olds, and the Pastor (who led the kids church) translated it into Swahili. The story was VERY long, and having to wait ever sentence for the Pastor to translate made the story about an hour in length. The kids who stayed awake the whole time and paid attention were led to Mama Carla's kitchen for a snack and discussion. The story wasn't much, but at least it was something to teach the kids about Jesus. Some of the kids could even tell you what Easter is about after the story!

Life in the Kitchen

6 April 2012
Today I worked in the "Kitchen" all day. The Kitchen is a little two room building with one side being used for food prep and the other side used for storage. Most of the cooking is done outside on charcoal burning stoves called jikos. There is one going at all times with a pot of water on it which is used for cooking and also washing dishes. The cooks wash dishes about seven times a day for all of the meals and cooking they do. They also wash the floors about seven times a day by hand with their legs straight and bent at the waist. One of the cooks, Paris, wanted to see me try it, but because I'm not flexible and can barely touch my toes, I had to crouch down to do it. Paris thought this was hilarious and just laughed and laughed. Earlier in the day another cook, Vero, had me peeling potatoes--I was slower than her, but she said I did a good job. I also helped wash the dishes by rinsing the dishes in scalding hot water (and most of the dishes are metal and conduct heat very well). Next, Vero and Paris tried to teach me how to cut skuma (it's like Kale). They gather a bunch of of skuma and squeeze it together in their fist and take a knife and chop at it in their hands, and this action shreds the skuma. I tried this and Parris was worried I was going to slice my fingers off--she kept looking at me and saying, "Oh wow". Next we sliced cabbage and I did a much better job at this. Then I helped sort beans for about an hour. After a break of a Bible lesson with the older kids and a quick lunch, I was back out in the Kitchen to help prepare the rest of the dinner for that evening. I chopped tomatoes and made Paris and Milka (another cook) laugh a lot, and then I helped sort beans again. I don't think I was super helpful since it took them longer to explain what to do then for them to do it on their own, but I really enjoyed spending time with the girls in the Kitchen and getting to know them better.

Vero is probably my favorite, even though I like them all. She is extremely bright, loves life, and she isn't afraid of making decisions for you! She is the same age as I, and I really enjoy talking with her. In many ways Vero seems older than 27 because people have to grow up quicker here since their life expectancy is so low. Even today, Vero shared that a friend of hers who had just started university was killed by a man because she wouldn't let him "have" her. Life and death are every day occurance here and clearly visable--it's just a fact of life in Kenya. But even with that, Vero still has a positive attitude and enjoys laughing and singing and dancing. I hope to spend more time with Vero and more time in the Kitchen.

If I were to come back long-term, I could see starting a Bible study with women like Vero and Paris...

Teddy

5 April 2012

I've mentioned a bit about the facilities here at the children's home in Kitale, and now I want to tell you about the kids. One of the first kids to latch onto me was Teddy, and that is odd--here's why: Teddy has some pretty severe needs mentally. I am not sure of all Teddy struggles with, but I recognize some autistic behaviors such as teeth grinding, repetitive hand movements, and extreme melt-downs from failure to communicate. When something sets Teddy off, he starts scratching his neck and temples to the point of drawing blood. He is covered in scars because of these melt-downs. But when I first met him, I was sitting in the room where the kids eat all their meals and the youngest kids hang out a majority of the day, and Teddy came up and put his head on my back. I didn't know anything about him before, but I noticed pretty quick that there was something different about him. He liked me holding him and clacking my tongue at him. Kids with autism don't normally reach out for people--they tend to stay in their own little worlds, so I know there's something more with Teddy. My next encounter with Teddy came about after the Aunties cleaned up all the baby toys and took the one Teddy was holding. He started to grab his ears (the first sign of one of his melt-downs) and crying out, and then he started scratching himself. All of the other Aunties were busy with the rest of the kids, so they didn't notice Teddy. I went over and rubbed his back and then picked him up, sat him on my lap, and clacked my tongue at him. He seemed to calm down a bit and even laugh, and later when an Auntie came to change his diaper, I realized he had peed all over my leg!

That night I called my mom and when she asked if there were any kids that had an impact on me, I told her I wanted to bring Teddy home with me. My mom laughed and told me I always attracted the "off" people. Teddy just needs so much more attention than he is able to get. He is unable to communicate and needs someone to spend time teaching him a form of communication whether verbal or other. And Teddy isn't the only kid here with severe needs. It would be wonderful if God would bring an individual to this home whose heart is geared towards these kids and could work with them apart from the rest of the herd. One more thing about Teddy, he loves music (talk about someone after my own heart!). Last night evening it started raining and all of the kids had to come inside. Just as they were starting to get out of hand, I borrowed Carla's guitar and sang some worship songs to all the kids to keep them entertained. Teddy came right up to the table my chord charts were on and laid his head on it. Music soothes him--I'll have to remember that for the next major melt-down!

First Full Day

3 April 2012

My first full day at the home--pretty cool! The kids and the Aunties started moving around at 5:00am. Every morning, while fully staffed, every kid is bathed, dressed, and fed by around 9am. 106 kids, EVERY day! While this was happening, however, I was in bed asleep. I think I have adjusted to the time change fairly well, but it was SO hard trying to stay up until 9pm last night. Pushing myself to stay up made all the difference though. I finally got out of bed around 8am, ate a breakfast of orange juice and a granola bar, and then I went on a tour of the property with my dad. I have to say I am thoroughly impressed with what is already here and what the future plans are for this place. There are two green houses with plans to build at least two more, fields containing banana trees, orange trees, pineapple plants, and many other organic goods. There is also a two-room school house with plans to build more classrooms by January when a new group of kids is old enough to enter school--pray for the funds and the means to accomplish this task by that time. The health clinic is well on its way to being finished soon, and a new dorm is in the works as well. Progress is being made and God is providing the means for that.

After the tour I spent the remainder of my time during the morning working with the two 4th grade students on contractions and reading. There are 13 second graders in the same classroom as 10 4th-7th graders--two teachers share the space, and I am amazed at how well they work together. The other school room normally contains 23 first graders, but the teacher is currently way from the orphanage. I enjoyed working with them, but I also remember why I chose secondary education for my major... Some of you may be thinking, "During Spring Break a teacher CHOOSES to work in a school? CRAZY!" And you are probably right, but it was fun. I played with the kids during their breaks, and I'm pretty sure the older kids know my name and know that I'm a teacher too. I then I had a quick lunch and spent most of the afternoon straightening and organizing the hospitality room and spraying for bugs (more to come about the bug spraying extravaganza). This is the room where all the visitors' food is kept and where you can go to escape from the chaos if needed. I played with some of the babies until dinner time when I was called over by Vero (one of the cooks and according to my father, one of the brightest Kenyans he's ever met) called me over to help serve food to the kids. I'm looking forward to spending more time in the kitchen with her. After a dinner of beans and rice, I researched bats in Kenya because jeff and Carla (the people who run this place) are thinking of building a few bat houses to help control the bug population and help stimulate the agriculture. The internet didn't hold out for long, so I made a phone call to my mom to fill her in on things.

Life is good. God is good.

Traveling and First Days

Okay, after two and a half days of traveling and a day at the orphanage, I've finally found time to update you on my adventure! I'm going to back-track a bit and share with you my journal entries from the past few days, and be forewarned--this will be a LONG entry.

31 March 2012

After much anticipation, packing, and cleaning, today I start my adventure to Kenya. I managed to sleep last night and at 7am I started my last minute preparations with gusto. At 9am I met Paulina and her dad at the gate of my apartment and made it to the Querétaro airport around 9:30am. When I tried to chek in for my flight, the desk agent told me I had to have my immagration form--you know, the one that the gate agent took from me when I flew back to Mexico after Christmas break because I didn't neet it anymore? Yeah, that one... After some help from Pau, we got everything taken care of and then came time to say goodbye. We made it quick so as not to get all sappy and sentimental.

The Querétaro airport is tiny--there are only two gates. Because I was over two hours early for my flight, I had to wait until about 11:30am before they would let me into the gate area, so here I am sitting in a little restaurant enjoying an unexpected breakfast of chilaquiles and fresh squeezed orange juice. The food has helped to calm the butterflies threatening to burst forth from my stomach at any moment like a horror film, and I am left to come to grips with what is happening in my life: I am going to Kenya--in AFRICA--on the other side of the WORLD! A year ago I never thought I would travel to the East Coast let alone outside of the US. And now look at me, I'm living in Mexico and traveling to Africa in the same year! I live a blessed life indeed. Who knows what the future may hold for me?

1 April 2012

Man, it feels like I've been travelling for days--oh wait, I have! :) Here's a quick recap of the past 24 hours.

My flight from Querétaro to Dallas/Fort Worth was on a small plane, two seats on one side, one on the other. There was little overhead space, so I shoved my big backpack under the seat in front and hoped the flight attendant didn't notice/say anything. It happened on this leg of my journey that one of my students and his family were on the same flight as me and were sitting in the two rows in fron of me. I chatted with his mom a bit about Mexico and my trip to Kenya. She said it's a shame I don't have a blog or something so she could read about it, to which I replied, "Actually, I do. Here's my webaddress!" I also chatted with the lady next to me who is from Colorado and had been visiting San Miguel.

After touching down in Dallas, I had to go through customs and another security checkpoint to get to my connecting flight. Danae (the gal I was meeting there and with whom I was flying the rest of the way to Nairobi) arrived shortly after I did and then it was time to load onto our flight to London-Heathrow. This second flight was on a 747-400 series, and it was GINORMOUS! It had two levels and was by far the biggest plane I have ever been on. My imagination took over and I envisoned hot-tubs, a piano bar, and people playing pool on the upper level--not likely, but it was a nice fantasy anyways. Unfortunately, Danae and I didn't have seats together, but there was "On Demand" TV and movies to keep us occupied. I also greatly enjoyed listening to the flight attendants speak because all of them had British accents since I was flying with British Airways. It was REALLY difficult not to emulate their speech patterns, but I refrained from vocalizing my "British" thoughts. 8.5 hours later we landed at Heathrow, by-passed Customs, and went through another security checkpoint. there were only 10-15 people in line, but it took FOREVER! Eventually Danae and I made it to our connecting flight to Nairobi just in time to load for our last leg of the journey. Same thing as before but a smaller plane--only one level. I really enjoyed catching up on the movies I've missed while being in Mexico, like "The Iron Lady" and "The Muppets". I also devised a method of folding and wrapping the provided blanket around my neck like one of those flight pillows since I didn't have one. Kiser ingenuity strikes again! When Danae and i deplaned, my dad was waiting for us. We made it through Customs without a hitch, were picked up by Job who drove us to our hotel, and not it's 11:14 pm (or 2:14 pm yesterday for me). It hasn't fully hit me that I'm IN Africa yet. Perhaps with daylight my realization with actualize! I'm happy to be with my dad, and I can't wait to get to the orphanage tomorrow!

2 April 2012

This morning we ad a breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, mystery meat sausage (it LOOKS like sausage, but it is NOT sausage...), and some kind of ham/bacon hybrid . Then we traveled back the same airport we flew into last night and caught our 45 minute flight to Eldoret. My dad and I talked a bit, and there was just enough time for the flight attendant to serve us a beverage and then collect out cups before landing. Jeff (he and his wife Carla are in charge of the orphange) was waiting outside for us with "Toyota". You'll have to read my dad's blog to fully understand this vehicle, but basically it's a truck with the cab extending all the way to the back with benchs bolted to the floor. We loaded all our gear and Danae and I into the back and proceeded into town to pick up a few items. Desiel is expensive so it's important to use every trip away from the orphanage to its fullest. We stopped at a grocery story to pick up food for us to eat while at the home, and Jeff was looking for a specific lotion they need for one of the kids. While Jeff was running in and out of various stores, my dad engaged a begging teenage boy about why he really needed money (most likely to buy glue to sniff), and the boy kept changing his story. We also got a parking ticket, well more so a packing "pass". Stores have a few parking spaces in front of their building, but if those are full, your option is to park in a "city" space which translates to a few city employees who walk around looking for parking "violations" so you have to pay them. Today it was 100 shillings (about $12US) to park in the space we were in.

Driving is crazy--similar to Mexico in that the rules are more of a suggestion. There are people on bikes and motorcycles, and when I say "people" I mean there is more than one person on each of those forms of transportation. People also ride in taxi busses, and if there isn't room inside, they just hang on the outside. The roads are fairly decent right now because the weather has been dry and some have been repaved recently.

Finally at around 12pm we made it to the children's home, and since my dad was little help in showing us around since he was under a pile of black bodies and slime (you think I'm exaggerating, but you could barely see him or hear him for all the kids hugging him and shouting "Babu Terry"), a couple that works at the orphange during part of the week gave Danae and I a tour of the major buildings, telling us what we needed to know. After settling into my room that I am sharing with Danae and another girl, I ventured out to meet the children. The kids warmed up pretty quickly, and soon I was covered by tiny black bodies encoated in snot, food, and who knows what else! It is a bit overwhelming especially since I don't have a clear purpose yet, but I know things will get smoother and more routine in the next few days.