Jambo Bwana - Nyeri Kenya 2010

 Kenya Blog 2010

KENYA July 25 - August 5, 2010

Steve Shussett, Teaching Presbyter of Lehigh Presbytery will be participating in the intergenerational mission trip of 15 adults and youth from Faith Presbyterian Church in Emmaus.  They will be visiting Faith's partner church in Nyeri, Kenya for the following purposes: To continue a face to face partnership with their friends in Nyeri, Kenya. To assess the needs of the Children’s ministry and communicate back to Faith Church. To continue growing in their Faith while participating with all the other Presbyterian Churches within the Riamukurwe Parish. The following people have made a commitment to this mission trip: Jack, Jacqueline, Lisa and Marissa Decker; John Gill; Andrew, Diane, Grady and Jim Millick; Lauren and Laurie Payea-Murray; Rachel and Steve Shussett; Darcy and Karen Trop. Please keep this group in your prayers during their travels and read about their adventures in Kenya through Steve Shussett's blog below.   July 29, 2010 - Below is the blog from Steve Shussett: To all the Saints, Grace to you all and peace! Because of technological issues that haven’t been entirely resolved, this has been slower getting to you than expected. Then again, given where we are, we should be more amazed than disappointed at how far technology has come, and how close it can bring us together. Please know that as I trust God can read our hearts, you are being prayed for daily. And your prayers are certainly coveted, for our Kenyan sisters and brothers, and our entire party: Jack, Lisa, Jackie, and Marissa Decker; Darcy Dodd and her daughter Karen Trop; John Gill; Laurie Murray and her daughter Lauren Payae; Jim, Diane, Andrew and Grady Millick; and my daughter Rachel and me.   Thursday, July 22, 2010—Newark Airport    The Journey Begins John Calvin says we should begin every good work with prayer, and so we did. Several dozen people from Faith Church (Emmaus) joined us in worship. After a day full of taking care of many last minute details (and sorry if I didn’t get to your last minute detail) it was good to stop and be attentive to what we were about to do. I have to say that I felt commissioned in the service. I’m usually on the other end of the laying on of hands, and even though we had been commissioned in worship several weeks before, the time until the actual event lessened the impact for me. But this could not be more immediate, and I was touched. Roberta Kearney begin_of_the_skype_highlighting     end_of_the_skype_highlighting, interim pastor at Faith, closed the service with the benediction she frequently uses at Faith, but even though I have heard it many times before (I worship there more frequently because that is where my family are members) it was as if I had never heard them before, their applicability to the moment almost too much. You go nowhere by accident. Wherever you go, God is sending you. Wherever you are, God has a purpose in your being there. You go nowhere alone. Christ is at work in you, and has something he wants to do through you, wherever you are. Believe this, being present to the grace, love, and power of the Holy Spirit.  Again, I have heard this often, but somehow it meant something entirely new and different. And I was left thinking that shouldn’t be the case. It is all true, going across the street as much as going across the world. +      + Aaah, my first opportunity for Christian witness, and I haven’t even left the Newark airport: I didn’t yell at the ticket agent when she interrupted checking me in to do something else, in the process messing up both things she was doing. +      + Thanks for driving one of the vans, Robin! You got us here safe and sound, so we can sit and wait. Someone has compared the day to a wedding: months and years of planning, then the day takes forever. And once at the airport we learn that we have a slight delay to London, and a several hour delay then to Kenya. But it is a good thing: more time to visit Windsor Castle (we already had planned that tour because of our long—planned—layover) and our Kenyan hosts didn’t have to leave at 4am to pick us up at the airport. +      + Technology is a funny thing. Originally my wife Alicia and I thought we wouldn’t talk at all, then with some additions to my phone we thought we could exchange emails (calls from Kenya run $4.99/minute, so if I call, it had better be serious!), and then with Skype we would be able to talk, and maybe even have the family see one another. So there we are sitting in the airport, waiting to start our journey, and as I start to type out an email I suddenly realize, “Wait a minute! I’m in Newark—I can still call  home!” A little embarrassing really. +      + This trip is about Kenya; London is a wonderful place to stop, but it is an appetizer. My first trip to Europe after a lifetime of wanting to go, and it isn’t even the main course—who’d a thunk it?! With that in mind, some random thoughts from a whirlwind visit. ___  One of the places I really wanted to see at Windsor was St. George’s Chapel. The Chapel itself is 500 years old, its office of daily prayer unbroken for over 650 years. Side chapels complete the Chapel, and some are available for public use. How much prayer has been offered up in this place? How many tears, each one a prayer? The font is a incredible piece of carved stone. How many people have been baptized here? How many lives begun and changed? ___ Okay, I’m not afraid to admit it. That Catherine of Aragon prayed in that very place stopped me in my tracks. ___ One of the more beautiful and striking things I saw was not in the castle, but outside it. The vast moat that once protected and guarded those inside is now the most beautiful garden, simply stunning in its simplicity. I look forward to showing you a picture of this lovely place, but it likely won’t be mine! We are pooling pictures as a group, and many (most) of our group is more visually attentive than me, and while I’m scribbling they are clicking. Andrew Millick and his camera have been surgically grafted together (how he sleeps with that around his neck is beyond me), and his attention and passion are evident to anyone who sees him taking a photo. ___  It has been a great day, but the travel does take it out of you. Late in the afternoon we realized we should eat dinner before returning to the airport. We walked. We named places. We walked some more. We sat. We stared blankly. Diane Millick, who can be very quiet, taking things in, then suddenly springing in with wonderful insight and/or great passion (all qualities I envy) observed that we were all too tired to make even the simplest decision. But, of course, most of us were too tired to see even that! ___ Back at Heathrow and it is a matter of technology. Again. I have not be able to do anything with the Internet, despite my best laid plans. I knew Alicia expected to hear from me by now. The three pounds I spent for a few minutes at an Internet café was a great investment. +      + On the road, or in the air, again. I remembered my son Daniel’s request to see what I could from the plane at night and over the ocean. As I tried to look from my aisle seat, I turned on the TV built into the seatbacks and put on the flight map channel, which I love!  It is a map that shows how far you’ve come and how far to go, times, temperature—it reminds me of watching local weather channels in the early days of cable television. Anyway, I see some lights below, check the map, and discover we are over the City of Lights, Paris. What slowly dawned on me as I awoke the next morning (or was it yesterday, or tomorrow??) and checked the map to see Kinshasa, Dar Es Salaam, and of course, Nairobi, suddenly took perfect shape: Toto, you’re not in Kansas anymore. +      + Saturday, July 24—Kenya! Day 1 The airport, so full, so many people. Security for those sixteen and older includes a photo taken by the visa clerk, as well as digital imaging of both sets of fingerprints. Our luggage, despite the many miles, arrived safe and sound, and we make our way out of the building to be met by many soon-to-be friends.  “So full, so many people” to add so many names and so many faces! The members of the Partnership Committee from the Riamukurwe Parish who met us at the airport were Virginia, chair and our key partner on the devotional process; Peter, Stated Clerk; Daniel, who has visited Faith; Emmanuel, treasurer at one of the congregations; Francis; Elizabeth, who oversees Tumaini, the children’s home; and Joseph, who would prove to be a good traveling companion. They were gracious enough to drive several hours to meet us. Good friend Daniel with Laurie. There is also Elias and drivers Boniface (Bonny) and John, of Mission Tour and Travel Ltd, a transport company whose motto is “In God We Trust: Servicing Missionaries and Others to Meet Their Goals.” On the several hour drive to follow, I returned to the question that I’ve pondered since first planning to come: what is my goal in coming here? As a person, a father, a Christian, a minister of Word and Sacrament? In many ways, each of those has a different goal, and in just as many ways, I may not know any of those goals until I stumble upon them. Bonny was our driver, and he was a good conversation partner as I sat in the seat beside him. I learned from him about the upcoming vote on the first new constitution since independence in 1963. We had not gone a mile, still within sight of the airport, and suddenly, there were several giraffes in the distance! I heard my “Yelp!” before I even knew I said it! So exciting! +      + It was very busy compared to our Saturday mornings, with people out working and shopping; the work week, I learned, usually ends around 11am-1pm on Saturday. On both sides of the road manual laborers were laying sod or preparing for it, the shovels many and the soil, the clay, hard. At first I thought I was struck by the lack of large equipment for what was so obviously a large-scale project, but no, there may be fewer big diggers than we might be used to, but they were there. It was instead the large number of work crews scattered every few dozen yards. Such a contrast to the occasional video screen advertising the latest products. It was striking at how many people were hands-on for such a project, you could almost believe they would make their deadline of next year—as opposed to our cynicism any time we are given a timetable on roadwork. And listen to this: dotting the fencing to keep people safe from the construction was frequently found the sign, “Any Inconvenience Highly Regretted.” A far cry from our occasional “Git’er Done!” And the color! People have said how differently the world is colored, but I had no idea. Case in point: we have the “brown paper bag,” white with a red target, or translucent blue. Here people walk around with bright purples, yellows, and greens! And the soil—I didn’t know it could be so brown. Compared to ours…good hot chocolate versus a brown crayon in hot water. Houses and other buildings in bold panels of alternating yellows and pinks and purples. The flowers are not many, nor are they cultivated in gardens here, but they grow naturally, trees with bright bursts of purple and red. It would not be long until we encountered banana and pineapple trees, and after the giraffes, more familiar cattle, sheep, and goats foraging along the side of the road, keeping the grass down and their bellies full. I am reminded of my trip to Big Sur, California several years ago, when the meeting of mountain and ocean prompted me to stop every few hundred yards, seemingly against my will, to look at…everything. If I were driving alone, I know I would have had no choice, someone waiting for me or not! All this color, and yet after a few hours of driving I realize I haven’t seen a white person since we were in the airport. It would take four hours for that to happen. And I find myself unconsciously humming a favorite hymn, the Sibelius tune, “This is My Song” or “Song for all the Nations,” mindful that as our skies are blue, the skies of other nations are as well. It was so spontaneous, so unthinking, that I recognized it as a prayer pulled from deep within me, for these people, for all people. +      + In the airport, I was pleasantly surprised to see a small prayer area for Muslims, and it was actually in use. Now we see Muslim women clothed head to toe, and not long after, large ornate Hindu temples, including one of the largest in Kenya. And every few feet to every few miles, “Freedom Church,” “Gospel Church,” “Kingdom Church”! And then one Presbyterian Church of East Africa (PCEA) church, and another and another, then church-affiliated schools and hospitals and homes for children and the aged and those with special needs. Sitting as I am on the “wrong side” of the vehicle, the driver to my left, the view is different and a little…exciting… at times. I tell Bonny that my pressing the invisible brake is no reflection on his skills! And from that side I get a great view of trucks passing, many with terms of the faith painted prominently on front: Maranatha, Jesus is Lord, or Beer-Sheba. Later I would also see “Kobe Bryant,” so not every one was religiously inspired! There were a number of familiar company names in sight, like Coke and Sony. Others, like the “Kobil” gas stations are very similar, while others still, like Zain and Safaricom are totally new, but like our familiar ones, found often as we made our way. +      + After a brief pit stop at a curio shop, we finally made it into Nyeri. Many of us…most of us…all of us…have napped some along the way, sleeping on a plane not so conducive to, well, sleeping. We pulled up to a gate just wide enough for a van, and waited to be let in. The Riamukurwe Parish? No, not yet. We were stopping at the Right Reverend Muindi’s home, former moderator of the PCEA and patriarch of the Parish. His wife, Eustace, greeted us warmly, seemingly unperturbed about fifteen people, mostly strangers, showing up unexpectedly. Rev. Muindi enjoying our youth. From there, a brief ride to the Parish, and meeting so many more people. We met elders from the congregations of the Parish, staff of Tumaini, two students from Oxford, Laura (American)and Louis (“Looey,” a French-Canadian from Montreal), who came because of Laura’s several year relationship with Tumaini, including starting a physical education program for the kids called “Hope Runs.” I’m told you can find it on YouTube. Also there were the Rev. Dr. Eve Tolley, a PCUSA minister of Word and Sacrament who teaches pastoral care, and much of her family, who are the benefactors of the nearby clinic. Several members of their family, in the medical professions, died within a short span, and in their honor the clinic was established. A moving testimony. It is beyond words to convey the power of seeing the dedication to this place, of people who don’t have to be here yet need to be here, for their own spirit’s sake, and out of love for these children. What is it that has gotten into their bones here? And does one have to come all the way to Africa to feel so passionate about a people?  Sunday, July 25—Kenya Day 2 Last night I was so tired I fell asleep at 9:40 pm, which made getting up at 2:30am no fun. Then again, I have no idea what time my body thought it was. I knew it was 5:15am when the rooster crowed. An hour later I still can’t find its snooze button—I’m moving! But it’s not just the rooster that has me in motion. There is singing, wonderful singing, coming from somewhere in the hearing distance. It is obviously live and not a recording, and the joy in it is so energizing! We learn later, as we see her with two others, that she sings like this every Sunday, to help body and spirit “awake my soul and with the sun” for worship. +      + We enter a sanctuary for worship led mostly by youth, for youth. “Context” is a funny thing. We pray for the upcoming constitutional vote, and the week of term-end exams the students are preparing for. We also sing of how “the blood of Jesus washes white as snow” even though the fifteen of us are probably the only ones who have ever seen snow.  As I hear a worship leader repeatedly thank Jehovah, I think of how “Jehovah” is a name for God very human in origin (not in the Bible, but a mix of the consonants YHWH or “Yahweh,” with the vowels for “Adonai”) but now quite commonly accepted, and wonder how that relates to being white as snow. +      + I don’t know where she came from, and apparently I’m not alone, but the most adorable little girl has magically appeared on Rachel’s lap—and she is not complaining! Her braids pulled tight against her head, her smile wide and bright, she is in a way an answer to prayer for me, wanting Rachel to receive all the blessings she can from this trip, and knowing the joy she feels at being with little children. +      + Hmmm. There are fifteen of us, and we take up about five pews. Do you think any of the kids around us feel like we’ve taken “their” pew? +      + We have been singing together for quite a while now, different youth taking turns. Caesar, the Youth Chairman, calls on us to offer a song. Everyone immediately points at Rachel (whose cold has left her little voice) and Jackie, who initially looked like we have got to be kidding. Alas for them, we are not. And they respond wonderfully, singing “You are Holy” quite well on the spur of the moment. I mean really “spur of the moment,” as neither one had the words in front of them. I’m always proud of Rachel and Daniel when they are sharing their gifts, but knowing she isn’t feeling well, and without any warning, I’m especially so now. +      + Rachel, Darcy, Karen, and I are then taken to Githima, one of the churches of the Parish, arriving about halfway through the English service. Afterward we were invited to join the Session for tea, speaking with them and their preacher. Something said made me think he was a guest preacher, and I asked if that were so. “No,” they said, but something in what I said led them to ask, “Do you want to preach?” Are they serious? Thinking they were kidding, I said, “I only speak English,” knowing it was a Kikuyu service ahead. No problem—the preacher would serve as my interpreter. Confession is good for the soul.  I had been told by previous visitors to Africa, including Chip Colson, honorably retired pastor formerly of Faith, and Jeff Brower, pastor of the Middle Smithfield Church which has a relationship in Togo, that I could be called on at a moment’s notice to preach. I heard them, but now I know I didn’t really believe them. I brought some sermons along, but despite days on a plane I never looked at them, I tucked one in my Bible that morning, but never read it. But there I was, working out the logistics for English and Kikuyu, hoping I wouldn’t doze off from exhaustion, until finally, phrase by phrase, the Gospel was proclaimed. I could tell from the not infrequent “mmm”s that the Spirit was with us, that despite our many differences the realities of the human condition and God’s faithfulness held us in common. Then, with the word preached, we broke bread together in traditional foods and sharing the cup—of tea. And Christ was as real among us as any time brothers and sisters dwell in unity. Moments after returning to our apartments, it was time to go back to church for worship and celebration of the very first Tumaini children to graduate from university. Although they had graduated a week before, the event was held this day because the Tolley party and Faith Church were here now.          Faith Youth singing at celebration for                                                               Elizabeth with the graduates.       first university graduates of Tumaini. Until that moment, I knew Faith and Riamukurwe had a partnership of some twelve years, that representatives of both had made the journey to be with the other, that some deep and important friendships had been made. At that moment, it was made clear that so much more was happening here, as Faith’s contributions to the Parish, to the children, were held front and center, and we were treated as honored guests. We sang and we prayed, eloquent and emotional words were shared by one of the graduates, by faculty and staff, and by Jack Decker, whose voice shook with the power of the moment, humbling me with his obvious love for the people and ministry of this place. The party afterward was a raucous occasion, with everyone wholly a part. Music is in their blood here, in the air we breathe, and our youth participated to great applause. I was able to meet several of the grads and their friends, moving on to banking and education, others soon to complete dental programs or engineering degrees. +      + This may be hard to grasp, but bear with me: I’m here as my daughter’s father. I’m not a member of Faith Church; she is, as are my wife and son. I get to worship there more often than other congregations, perhaps once a month, so while I am sometimes a part of things, I am still apart from things. So when people here come up and hug me and kiss me and thank me for what Faith Church has done for them, I feel awkward. My family may pray weekly for them in worship, contribute to the church that contributes to the Parish, so I don’t warrant thanks. But that is also too much, too confusing to say, so until now I offer what I can, trying to deflect to my traveling companions who really do contribute to this. But I’ve come to a new place in my thinking. When we baptize children, we as worshippers promise to care for this child, and by extension, all the baptized. Like you, I’ve made this promise dozens of times, if not more, but I don’t know if I’ve grasped it as I do now. Jesus says care for the widow and the orphan, those sick or dying with AIDS or anything else—whoever is the least. The children of Tumaini have lived lifetimes in their short years, suffering hardships most of us cannot even imagine, and in this place they find love and care. As we love and care for them, and those like them much closer to us, we love and care for Christ himself, and all whom he loves. In other words, it is not just about “our” kids. Or better yet, they are all ours. +      + I needed to either wash the clothes I wore on the plane or burn them. With two weeks to go, washing seemed prudent, so last night I gave it a whirl. A day later I might as well have just taken them out of the shower (where I really did wash them), they are so wet. Four worship services, one sermon, and much celebration. An exhausting day. A wonderful day. 9:40 pm. I’m ready for bed. Monday, July 26—Kenya Day 3 Awake at 2:30am again. Sigh. +      + This is such a musical place. Each morning begins around 5am with youth singing as they prepare for the day (I think I’m near showers), one picking up where the other leads off, not in an organized, planned way, but spontaneously—it is rarely the same song. Worship is full of song, often wild, exuberant, joyful. “Presentations” of music can be expected from any and all at the drop of a hat. Thank goodness we have such musical kids! Then again, quality is not the focus, it seems; while some singing is clearly better than others to our ears, all sing as they are led. +      + “Hello. My name is _____ and Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior.” What if we could introduce ourselves this way, as virtually every adult in the Parish has? +      + Today we are visiting the local schools. We get to the first, to find worn buildings and more mud than you could shake a stick at---and a stick to clean the mud out of your shoes would have been much appreciated. But those come at secondary glances, because everyone’s eyes go immediately to the flock of children playing at recess, tiny little kids “cute as a bug on a rug.” And when they see us taking pictures! They dash over, not only to see the image, but to encourage more! There was a wonderful moment when Andrew is suddenly swarmed by children, all wanting to see the pictures. Andrew Millick show the children the pictures he took. Samuel, the principal of the Primary (Elementary) School, tells us Jesus Christ is his Savior in word and in deed. As he launches into a history of the school (Peter, the stated clerk, is the former principal there) shows his stripes as an evangelist and preacher, repeatedly stoking the fire of his words with the phrase “for the glory of …God.” Immediately his affection for and gratitude toward Faith Church’s generosities is made known. He thanks the Church almost as many times as he thanks God, and with similar passion. This peaked as we turned the corner to see a large water tank. “This is it! This is it! This is what Faith Presbyterian Church has done!” There could not have been more excitement had the Church given them a rocket!           Still moved from the ceremony the day before, I find my cup running over with emotion, mostly at the many needs they have, but also at the way those needs are met, whether by contributions from afar or the sacrifice of teachers who have gone two months without pay. The government is responsible for paying, but for whatever reason, that has not happened. There are (I think) 786 students, from five children’s homes in the area. We later see some homeless children making their way late to school, late because they have no parents to wake them up in time. But the school’s provision of lunch must draw them in, even if the principal and teachers must personally provide the food they eat. +      + The school’s motto: It is possible. Better your best. +      + We walk from room to room, noting how full of students, and how much the facilities are in need. We marvel at the children’s memory, from reciting Leo Buscaglia’s famous poem on taking risks (worth looking up), to quoting Gertrude Ederle, the first woman to cross the English Channel (I later learned that she is on the practice exam the older students have been studying), who said on completion of the journey, “I knew if it could be done, it had to be done, and I did it.” That children would learn verses like these comes as no surprise given that Samuel made a point of opening his comments for the day with “I asked myself, ‘Do I have a vision for the school?’” before proceeding to show us he did. Some especially memorable moments: ·     In each room, children would greet and be greeted by hands seeming to gently push or pull the air above their hands, with everyone saying “Blessings, blessings.” To gently push is to bless another, to gently pull is to receive blessings. ·     This was accompanied by arms bent out to either side, palms facing out and fingers wiggling, Samuel calling for all to give and receive flowers, bouquets of flowers, bouquets of morning glories, of roses, of lilies, of… ·     This became especially poignant for me as he explained the planting of trees around the perimeter. There were the usual reasons of soil erosion and the like, and then softly he said, “Many of these children, they do not know beauty.” I felt my heart break. But I also remember walls painted colorfully (some faded now) with the alphabet and numbers and parts of the body, written in both English and Kikuyu, and the efforts to make beauty known are a balm. +      + At the secondary school we see less of the students (they are at lunch) but the same passion for teaching and caring for them—lunch, once again, is provided. Their assistant principal, Samuel (yes, we asked if it was required to have that name to be principal!) guided us. Most memorably for me, as we were departing he said, “Tell them about us! Tell them about us!” Samuel, I am telling, and I will be telling. +      +  From there, we go to Huruma for lunch and a visit. This was formerly a government-run home for children with special needs, but when they could no longer support it, the Riamukurwe Parish was asked to do so. Upon taking over, they discovered residents sleeping 2-3 in a bed, and all the beds in one relatively small building. Now there are separate dorms for males and females, many with special needs, several 20 or more years old. Nancy, who manages the place, is one of the larger-than-life persons, so full of life it spills over into everything and onto everyone, a cup of life running over. This is a good thing, because finances can be tight, there is no staff, so capable residents take care of the cows, and in so doing, build their own skills and self-esteem. A lesser person would find it difficult if not impossible to take care of the basic needs of the people and the place and still have love to share, but Nancy is up to the task. One of the people we met will no doubt prove to be among the most memorable, a man in his mid-30s with significant disabilities. With help he stands and makes his way through the crowd of us, shaking hands as he goes, until Nancy calls to this one whom she calls “a prayer warrior” and softly begins “This is the day…” Immediately a huge smile crosses his face and he starts to sing himself, in sound more than words, that this is the day, this is the hour, this is the minute that the Lord has made, clapping all the while, and prepared to go on for many minutes, hours, and days. His joy was so evident, it was really quite moving. And so, still moved by this ministry after some tea and the residents’ rendition of “Dry Bones,” I came to Nancy as we parted ways for the day. We had embraced deeply upon arrival, though we had never met before, and now we had met, in her love and calling. We hugged farewell, and then, out of character, I raised my hand and blessed her and the Huruma house, making the sign of the cross on her forehead. Then it was her turn to appear moved by the moment. +      + One of the highlights of the entire trip: dinner with the kids. What fun! I must have met and sat with at least ten kids during the course of the meal, learning about their lives (Harry Potter movies are popular here, too), talking about myself, and answering questions about snow and airplanes to these kids who hope for lives as doctors, nurses, pilots, and in ministry and in business. Dorcas and Caroline and Maureen, Hezron, Mary, and Ann were among those with whom I shared dinner. Very sweet kids, many of them already friends with Rachel. I learned that she is “72% troublemaker, 28% peacemaker” to great laughter. So now when I see them, I ask how much peacemaker and how much troublemaker they are, which never fails to get a smile. Tuesday, July 27, 2010—Kenya 4 Kenyan electrical outlet:   Common Kenyan Design of Bars on Windows                                                                        Aaah, some sleep. Not much more, just better distributed. After leaving the group, waiting for the shower and reading a bit, it was midnight. Sleeping until the rooster and the kids at 5:15am, and staying in bed until 6am hoping somehow I’d doze off again. But no: the kids are up and at’em—and loud! +  + Today we went to the Gathuthi Tea Plantation with Wachira and Moses Mina. Like all of our escorts, they are members of the Partnership Committee. Moses, a former teacher, has been here so often he could give the tour himself. Interesting enough, especially as I don’t know if we even grow tea in the States, kind of a low-tech version of other factory tours like the Louisville Slugger or Martin Guitar. The tour was longer than necessary, and the tea stronger than necessary. For me, the highest quality tea requires two spoonfuls of sugar. +  + From there, the site of the Baden-Powells’ grave, he, the founder of the Boy Scouts and together, the Girl Guides (Scouts). He loved Kenya, died in Nyeri and asked to be buried there. His home is about a kilometer away. We had a light lunch in their Scout House, a place designed for travelers to stay, including our first bottles of soda since arriving, large bottles requiring straws because of hygiene concerns. I was more excited about it than anticipated, and I think it was because it was a connection with Daniel, whom I miss seeing. +  + As seems to be normal around here, we have a late lunch and an early dinner: today it is eating at 3 and 5:30pm. A bit too much food, too close together. In between, Grady gets to do something the rest of us haven’t: walk outside the compound. Or in his case, run, with the younger running club and their coach. Apart from a few inconsiderate remarks he didn’t even understand until they were translated, he felt safe—and rightly proud, since he was keeping up with some of the best running people in the world! At the same time, Darcy and I meet with Nancy the Evangelist to plan the next day’s opening devotions. Nancy was to visit Faith Church several years ago, but significant family tragedy combined with visa issues prohibited that. Morning Worship with Nancy the Evangelist, Darcy, and Steve. +  + On to Chorongi for dinner at the church there. This is the newest of the Parish’s congregations, 2 ½ years old and 70-80 members, including Ann, secretary for the Parish. A very warm and hospitable group, with great pride of place. On arriving we confused a house on the property, now used for storage, with the new church they are building; the new church was also the site of one of the funniest things I’ve experienced on this or any continent. Outside the vestry where the congregation worships is the foundation for their new church, along with walls and sufficient construction to see how the church is laid out. Having “Preacher’s Disease,” the compulsion to stand in any pulpit you encounter, I stood on the top step where one day the Word will be proclaimed. One of our group thought that my “standing in the pulpit” was funny, and wanted to take a picture, so some others from Faith joined me. “Wait!” someone yelled, and the rest of the Faith contingent stood around me. Again we heard, “Wait,” and a few members of Chorongi ran over.  As soon as they were set… “Wait!” Again and again, we stopped and started as women came out of the small kitchen or appeared out of nowhere, taking at least five photos and preempting several others. Talk about “multitude”! We laugh whenever we think about, Lisa comparing it to a clown car where more and more people spill out of an unimaginably small space. She frequently cracks us up with her jokes and good humor, and this was no exception. She is now reveling in her recent promotion, from being called by our Kenyan friends “Treasurer” as the keeper of funds, to now carrying the title, “Minister of Finance.” At the same time, I do have other symptoms of “Preacher’s Disease,” the desire to find God in all things. There was truly room for everyone, and there was hospitality enough to give of time and space and good will. I was also reminded of the Genesis 18 text we are using for Dwelling in the Word, remembering especially Moufid Khoury’s explanation of Middle Eastern hospitality, where the hosts stand aside or outside while guests eat, and then come in to eat what is left. So it has been time and again in Kenya, and I’m grateful to Moufid for sharing that knowledge so I was able to share it with my companions. We had a most enjoyable dinner of traditional foods made in pots over an open fire. The women who cooked were as eager as the smallest of children to have their pictures taken, and we all laughed and embraced, getting their addresses so we can send copies of their photos upon our return. Faith Church has sent partnership teams before, but never before with youth. One of the hopes, in many ways realized, was that their faith would grow as they experienced the world and the faith of others. Evidence of this came as our time drew to a close, when Jackie Decker spoke up volunteering to pray for the many gifts God had given us that night. I was grateful for her prayer, and pleased for her and her family to see this sign of spiritual maturity. Such maturity is necessary in this place, a recognition that God is at work in the world even when the world is hard. Perhaps the difference between a “trip” and “mission” is the investment of self, and this is a place where investment comes at a price. At arm’s length you don’t hear stories of poverty, homelessness, violence, or AIDS. From a distance, these are just anonymous people. But if we are to join the children of Tumaini in calling one another “brother” and “sister,” whether in Kenya or the Keystone state, we have to stand fast in hearing the realities of those God has given us. +  + We had to leave Chorongi, as we have other places, because by 6:30pm it is too dark for people to walk home safely without accompaniment. The threat of violence is real, and there are only the stars to guide you home. The early darkness is a bit of a shock, coming as we do from days lasting until 9pm or more, but that is winter everywhere I guess. 55° at night, perhaps 70° during the day, although apparently we have come for one of the coldest weeks folks have seen in quite a while. We’ve been a damp, rainy 60°, and every one is sorry they didn’t bring sweatpants or other jackets. “Mount Kenya? What Mount Kenya?” The second-tallest mountain in Africa is within viewing distance from Tumaini, and we’ve been lucky to see the base with all of the fog, sometimes literally unable to see a car right in front of us. All of which is to say it is good to check our assumptions at the door. Yes, Africa is generally a hotter place, but at times parts can be quite chilly and wet. And if it is true about the weather, how much more is it so about other things. +  + Wednesday, July 28, 2010—Kenya 5 A very full day ahead, but a change of pace, as we will not be leaving Tumaini until dinner. My day started with a real night’s sleep, until 6am, giving me ample time (hah!) until breakfast at 7am to write my sermon. I’m going to be perfectly adjusted and it will be time to go home! (If I’ve said this before, forgive me, but I/we think it often.) Breakfast was the traditional flatbread of chapati, along with a treat of peanut butter. Many of us have been trying to “eat Kenyan,” but for me it wasn’t a matter of diet or taste, but mental health. +  + Peter finally meeting Jackie & Marissa after hearing about them for years. Nancy the Evangelist, Darcy, and I are sharing worship leadership today. Peter the Stated Clerk and Jack led yesterday. It is easy to see why he is so passionate about Kenya now that we are here, because it would be impossible not to be affected by the witness here. It is not easy being the leader of a large group in a different culture, but he has done well, including the invaluable ability to laugh at himself. Peter and Jack set a high bar for all of us, but we also did not want everyone to think they had to preach a sermon, that what they had written for the devotional was enough. Virginia and I were the two coordinating the devotional between our partnerships, as Darcy, Karen, Rachel and I coordinated things on our end. This has been a worthy tradition of the partnership, and I felt blessed to be able to contribute this way. Virginia with Diane +  + My sermon: Of the many things that are different and yet the same for us is our need for language, to communicate. Many of the people here in Kenya, in Nyeri, speak two or more languages, and I’m grateful that one of those is English, because we don’t make the same effort in our country. I know that a number of us have tried to learn a few words of Kikuyu or Swahili. You generously host us, and invite us to tell you if there is anything we need, and we celebrate a relationship that allows us to say what we need. But words, even the words of your Constitution, the present or the new, which affect this country and many lives, have their limits, even the words of the Gospel which give life and change the world, even these words can only go so far. We say the Lord’s Prayer together, but you say “trespasses,” we say “debts,” and others still, “sins.” We don’t always understand each other because our use of language is different. When I preached on Sunday I tried to think ahead, which words will make sense here, and which ones won’t. My interpreter was very kind when it was clear I did not think on that enough! Sometimes we can understand our words quite well, but in the loud noise of the children of Tumaini joyfully sharing a meal, we may not be able to hear each other across the table, and in the loud noise of the world, which is often not joyful, it would be easy not to hear across the world. And there is a special sadness for the special children of Huruma, who speak little or nothing, for the many things we cannot share. Because it is sad anytime thoughts, dreams, and hopes cannot be expressed. But in the Scripture passage that I chose, the passage that chose me, we learn that our words can, by the power of the Holy Spirit, stretch far beyond our knowing. The heavens are telling the glory of God; And the firmament proclaims God’s handiwork. Day to day pours forth speech, And night to night declares knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words; Their voice is not heard; Yet their voice goes out through all the earth, And their words to the end of the world (Psalm 19:1-4a). By the grace of God, each one of us can and does speak volumes to the ends of the earth, not with words, not with mouths, but with hearts. Some students are shy, they don’t say much, but their smile, their eyes, say it all, the love known, the love to share. We have shaken many a hand, embraced and been embraced. Some are well-meaning and polite, others life-changing and passionate. Today is a day of celebration at the clinic. Eve’s story, though it has been several years, you can still hear the grief, the sighs too deep for words. I was blessed to hear Nancy the Evangelist’s story yesterday, and the same. But their actions, their generosity of spirit, speak of the power of the Resurrection, that grief and sadness and even death do not have the last word, but it is Jesus Christ who has the final “Amen!” And then there is the prayer warrior of Huruma, who may have only been able to sing “This is the day that the Lord has made,” but his joy was fully expressed, his love given and met by manager Nancy, in words, yes, but all the more in her passion. The devotion in our booklet was about the meeting of two men, one of whom was the instrument used by God to bring me into a relationship with Jesus Christ. These were two men whose lives, native languages, and cultures could not have been more different. Yet they longed to meet, and when they did, they used the words that were necessary, but embraced each other most fully in their silent prayer together, because truly, deep does speak to deep. I have known that relationship without words, in a room with 600 when you could hear a pin drop, in a smaller gathering like this, when after days of prayer you could hear the heartbeat of another. We have so much to share with each other, and our words can carry us only part of the way. As the great teacher of the church, Meister Eckhart taught, “If the only prayer we say is “thank you,”—“asante,”— that is enough. All glory be to God. Amen. Later Peter came up to me and said I sounded like a preacher. I was honored, but didn’t know what to say, and so I was grateful when Diane explained that I had come as Rachel’s father, and didn’t want my being a pastor to be a bigger deal than necessary for others. +  + Nancy followed with a powerful witness on our God-given gifts and the need to use them, followed by Darcy’s devotional entry colored by our experience here. It was only then that I made the connection between Huruma and her job at a group home for people with special needs. It explained many of the helpful comments she had been making about that place. If Andrew is our Life photographer, good with diverse subjects from people to plants (he’s talking about making a photo journal of this experience), Darcy is our Annie Liebowitz (spelling?), taking time for the perfect shot. She was on the very first partnership trip twelve years ago—before there was a partnership—and it interesting to hear how things have changed. +  + Some followed the day’s plan, to paint the Fellowship Hall, while others took on other projects—like my finally getting to type this blog and send it! Others (Jack!) supervised. Diane and I took Lisa’s many pictures and tried to send enough—but not too many!—for the joint worship service on Sunday, which connects these partner churches by phone. If you haven’t heard about this, ask a member of Faith, because I think it is not only remarkable, but gives a great testimony to what “partnership” is. Laurie, a nurse, and her daughter, Lauren, spent the whole day at the clinic, which was celebrating its opening (I think) and a free clinic day. This is Laurie’s second visit, her first time in a more professional nursing capacity, and now enjoying seeing many old friends. They were a big help on a big job, with about 160 persons coming, and they learned and experienced much. Not only is it not uncommon for people to live to be over 100 around here, but later I heard some of them could even read the bottom line of the eye chart with assistance, something I’ve never been able to do! Given the amount of exercise they must get, walking miles regularly, and their diet, it should be no surprise. Meals always include fresh fruit, from watermelon and pineapple to sugar bananas (don’t eat more than four!) and regular bananas, orange-like fruit and passion fruit (had my first today: bite one end and squeeze it into your mouth. Yum yum!). We have eaten the aforementioned chapati, rice, potatoes and maize—sometimes together (I told them about colcannon: potatoes and cabbage), sometimes bits of beef or chicken mixed with rice or vegetables like a stew. And tea, lots and lots of tea, as a chai-like/tea combination, straight up, or with sugar. The last few days we have also had araroot, which has been compared to chestnuts, and a big favorite, mondasi (spelling?) which is a great donut. At breakfast it is often chapati, eggs (fried or hard-boiled), a kielbasa-like sausage, and bread that is just like ours. +  + Good conversations with Peter and Virginia about the church and the world. Many things between us are different, but many others quite similar. As I was walking, Dorcas, with whom I ate dinner the other night, gave me a note. I’m a mushball at the best of times, and reading the words she and Caroline (also from dinner) wrote had me on the verge of tears. I can’t wait to write back to them. +  + Dinner at Kigwandi, the oldest of the churches (built in 1975) and home church to our dear friend, Susan, a parish partner who always has a wonderful smile to share, and her sweet daughter, Theresa, who joined us. Once again the generosity so real, the passion for God on everyone’s lips, and their joy at our presence tangible in their welcome and words. +  +  We are becoming more comfortable with the Kenyans, laughing together more easily and freely, and also more comfortable with each other. The night ended with John, my apartment-mate, doing his laundry, singing his way through his iPod. I’ve enjoyed hearing stories about his family, especially his kids Evan and Erin, and even hearing one of Evan’s stories read aloud. Thursday, July 29, 2010—Kenya 6 So many preconceptions about Africa, winter for one, water for another. In preparing to come, we had many conversations about how to make sure we had enough water. Would we be boiling each night, or dropping pills, or buying, or using a filter? As it turns out, the Living Waters project has been here, and there is clean drinking water coming from the taps in front of Imani Hall, where the kids eat and have activities; that is where they wash their hands, just as we do, before meals. There has also been bottled water provided at needed points, and big water cooler bottles on each of our vans. Having water to drink has not been a problem. But other water needs still require paying attention. I’ve been “dry brushing,” that is, using toothpaste that hasn’t been dampened before brushing. But a lot of water still goes by the wayside in cleaning off the toothbrush afterward; I don’t use a lot of water to rinse my mouth afterwards even at home, but you still have to remember not to simply turn the tap and grab a sip. Water is collected everywhere, in the most ingenious ways, because when it is not winter it can get very dry, into devastating drought. There are tanks and collection points built into yards and homes, to use in cleaning and washing. Our showers have run the gambit from steaming hot, to tepid, to cold, to non-existent. It probably depends as much as anything on where your shower falls on the Tumaini life-cycle: if you shower right after kids shower or have been at their daily cleaning, you can expect a little excitement. I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you about the electric heater that warms the water. You turn it on a few minutes before showering, and apart from the natural concerns of water + electricity it works well. But it is hard not to have those concerns, so be careful and keep those arms down! Martin Luther said every time you wash your face you should remember your baptism, and in the apartment we are constantly called to remember our baptism and be thankful, as we need to have a bucket under our always-dripping shower. As John says, “the tap-tap-tapping of Edgar Allan Poe.” For those whose, ahem, natural tendencies are only amplified by the sound of water, you might want to keep this in mind. Speaking of such things: this water from the shower can be used when the toilets are lacking water, which seems common in some other apartments our group is using, but not yet an experience for John and I. Of course, we have also been places where “fresh” (modern) toilets have not yet been installed, leaving the user with an enclosed hole in the ground. There has usually been some pride expressed after using such a bathroom successfully the first time! +  + As I walk around singing, I realize what is different. In the US I sing in the halls or on the streets, sometimes getting giggles or stares. Here I sing just as badly, but singing aloud or in public is more acceptable. That doesn’t mean I don’t play it up or add dancing, just to make a child laugh! At home I am also more of a toe-tapper and sway-er, the latter I often attribute to my upbringing, as Jews “doven” or rocking from the waist and moving in place in prayer. But here I have learned to clap! And in a way that supplements the shoots of an understanding beginning to develop at home before the trip, I am seeing as type of body prayer, a way of making not just my mind and mouth but my whole body a living sacrifice. +  + The morning devotions are followed by a partnership meeting, to which I have been invited. Told it will be an hour, we expect it to run longer, and it goes longer still—and worth every minute! It was a very profitable time of exploring not only where the partnership between Faith and Riamukurwe Parish has been but where it could be going, and comparing life in the church in the two countries. One important piece for many of us is as follows. I’ve written of the envy felt for the Kenyans ability to stand up and speak their faith and pray aloud. What was new for me is that Christians here are less-prone to what Rev. Muindi called “service evangelism,” doing things for others in your community, being Christ’s hands and feet in the world, which is something many US Christians are quite good at doing. Which led to what I think is the best of all possible worlds: that we do justice and love kindness, letting others know this is possible only because and through the God with whom I humbly walk. +  + Our morning meeting having run late, David, a retired typesetter and director of the Tumaini Children’s Home Choir, joins us to go to Gaititu, first for the Home for the Aged, and then the church next door. Right now the Home is more dream than reality, as the Woman’s Guild (yes, “Woman’s,” to emphasize that any one woman can make a difference) has only raised sufficient funds to lay the foundation (including spaces for the “lift (elevator) shafts.” Of the completed project, there is only one structure, covering not even a quarter of the foundation, and this “building” is full of materials for the future and debris. Because money does not come in in any anticipated way, it is common for multi-level buildings like this to be built in stages, as the funds become available.  Jim Millick is in his element here. With the same skills and experience that he regularly takes to Mississippi for Katrina-related repairs, along with family and friends, and that he uses as chair of the Building and Grounds Committee at the church, he is eyeballing the contents of the structure and the design decisions made. “This is where a pipe or electric will go,” he says, looking at a small round hole in the wall, through which a long stick has been inserted, the other end of the diagonal resting on the ground. It is clear that others only saw a stick in a hole. It is this same skill set that estimated the paint needed, and led the successful painting of the Fellowship Hall. I hope the funds start coming in soon, because right now the closest Home of this kind is in Nairobi, at least three hours away. Between the scarcity of jobs leading to relocation and the devastation of AIDS, the elderly do not have the generation following to care for them, as has been the case here for…forever. The situation with this Home is not helped by the recent death of one of its leading lights, Ann K., who visited Faith several years ago.  +  + Next to the Home is the site of the Gatitu Church of the Riamurkurwe Parish, our host David’s place of worship. He and I sat together, discussing church and life, and every congregation’s need to care for and focus on the elderly as much as the young. After lunch, Laurie taught us to sing a song that required half of the room to stand up in sequence. Still laughing, our hosts first tried to teach us “Make old friends, but keep the new,” surprised that many of us already knew it. Our youth sang, followed by our women hosts singing and dancing a rousing song about their faith. They were great! +  + We stopped at Ann K.’s house to meet her husband and to express our condolences. On visiting the gravesite, it is clear that his wife’s death in October still weighs heavily upon him. From what I’ve been told by folks from Faith and the Parish, she was a remarkable woman, and a key visionary for the Home. Nearby we visited a vision that has come to completion, the clinic established by Eve Tolley and her family in memory of loved ones lost. The first floor is not large, but sufficient: check-in, two exam rooms, lab, and pharmacy. There are also two large rooms above that have not yet been put to use. I say “sufficient,” but when Lauren and Laurie were there yesterday, 160 came for the free clinic and chairs covered the area outside. While there we heard more stories about the day before, including 100-year-olds who could read the bottom of the eye chart without assistance, something I don’t think I’ve ever been able to do! Laurie is quite proud of Lauren, who is really not keen on medical stuff but still contributed much for this important day. Lauren’s skill set, honed in her time as a camper and now L(eader)I(in)T(raining) at Brainerd is much in evidence as she hangs out with her new friends, teaching crafts and songs. +  + On returning to Tumaini we went to the Sewing Guild to see their crafts, available for sale to further support the women whose job it is to make and repair the children’s clothing. I think it is safe to say they had a profitable afternoon! +  + That afternoon we returned to the clinic property, this time to Baraka House, a large facility established by the clinic for Eve and her family to stay when in the area, as well as large groups like ours. We joined our hosts for the evening and our hosts in the Partnership for a pot-luck supper. It was such a treat to have guacamole, Ramen noodles (our contribution, from our stash of “just in case” food), French fries, ziti, and garlic pasta, along with fresh chapati, rice, and beef. We kept reminding each other to be careful, that our systems are not quite used to American food. The meal ended with the joy of doing for our Kenyan hosts as they so often have done for us: explaining foods that were a complete mystery, and no food is more mysterious than jello! But the biggest hit on the dessert tray among our Kenyan hosts were the brownies! Eve, a member of Tropical Florida Presbytery, and I finally had a chance to talk, on life and vision in the church. Like Rev. Muindi, she not only has a vision for Tumaini, but energy to help bring it to life, thanks be to God. And like me, she feels that if we could bring to the Tumainis of the world the passion and energy we bring to hot-button issues within the denomination, the world would be a better place. +  +  The morning’s  meeting continued later that evening for the Faith contingent (and later, we learned, the Kenyans), along with our usual dose of laughter. As we left, someone yelled “Thanks for coming!” to which I replied “Thanks for having me!” “You come to our meeting and thank us?” “Yeah,” I said. “Coming to a meeting makes it feel like home!” +  +  The matron locks the outside doors at 10pm. Or so. After having to walk the three flights up and three flights down if we wait too long, tonight I say, “I’m leaving in time tonight.” We open the door to go, just as we hear the click of the key in lock. And so John and I leave to raucous laughter, trudging up three flights stairs and down. Friday, July 30, 2010—Kenya 7 John and I meet at 5:30am in our main room, me awake because of rooster and the din of kids starting their day, him roused from sleep by a dream of something he needed to do at home. “Not much I can do from here!” he says sleepily. We’ve been in Kenya for six days, away from home for eight, and while I have no doubt everyone is having an incredible time, I also have no doubt it is easier when your whole family is with you. You can see everyone is safe and sound, help out where necessary, and can easily find out how loved ones spent the day. Rachel and I are one of four sets of folks with immediate family still in the States; John is the only one traveling “alone.” But in the Tumaini spirit, we remind him we are his brothers and sisters on this trip! +  + So many kids, so  many names, and so often seen only at night. Remembering names is not my strong suit, and when there are many of certain names, or you meet people in large groups for short moments…well, I often feel badly that I can’t quickly recall a child’s name—or remember it at all. This morning I have time to reply to the letters I received from Dorcas and Caroline. Like many a sermon when a throwaway line becomes the most memorable, they told me that they will always remember my advice to “work hard!” I told them I was glad they remembered that, but more importantly, remember God loves you, and that God’s steadfast love is forever. In response to a lovely chorus Dorcas would later teach me, the words in their letter to me, I wrote, “God will help us to hear the whispers of prayer in our hearts.” +  + Sun! The first time since we’ve been here, and folks scramble to do laundry to hang on the line. On entering for breakfast, John and I find we are the only one’s there. We are told that in Kenya, such a day of sleeping in and moving lazily is called “Members’ Day.” We think: folks are tired. It is John’s day to lead devotions, and he starts us off with a hymn that resonates with his devotion, but not the season: “Joy to the World!” I tell him of past “Christmas in July” services I’ve led, where among other things we responsively read Juan Espinoza’s poem, “Christ is Born Every Day.” In his words I was struck by a new understanding of why mission-workers, or even those like us who make a relatively short if intense visit, can feel dissatisfied with church upon returning home. I don’t know if it is the great passion for Christ that is exhibited here, or our general lack of passion, or both. For me, the upside is that life as Teaching Presbyter requires a basic level of dissatisfaction with my passion and that of the world around me. +  + It is so often unconscious I don’t recognize it, but today I did: the song of the last few days has been “Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes” from Paul Simon’s Graceland, accompanied by Ladysmith Black Mambozo, a well-known South African group Alicia and I have heard in concert. With my limited repertoire of African music, it is the only song I know that properly translates the rhythm and beat we hear here on a daily basis. But in church, I find myself singing a song of the faith that aptly represents this place and this ministry: “Great is Thy Faithfulness.” +  + On our way to Karatina, a village some twenty miles away, to do some shopping with reputable vendors whom we can trust—their having been instructed to be trustworthy by our hosts! Sitting in a new place in the van, I discover three linked laminated cards entitled “Useful Swahili Phrases.” I immediately jot down some I like, until I find the winner. Just in case it comes up:  Gari langu linaloanguma linnejaa na mikunga My hovercraft is full of eels! (I added the exclamation point, but it seems appropriate.  Perhaps Kenyans aren’t as concerned.) +  + Bonnie, our driver, suggests that perhaps I should drive, and he’ll sit and rest. I suggest that if I do, he may want to use another Swahili word new to me: Pole pole Slow down! Caution! +  + A little money talk: As someone who hasn’t traveled internationally much, exchange rates and the like are a mystery to me. Right now, 100 K(enyan) S(hillings) equals $1.22, but because of what money is worth right now, that is a good tip. A loaf of bread is only about thirty KS. Money comes in paper or coins, and it must be a universal truth that there is an inverse number of bank tellers in proportion to the people in line. In fact, as more of us gathered, one teller walked away from his desk just to keep the cosmos in balance! A philosophical issue regarding money has arisen. No one wants to be taken advantage of. But while the difference between 100 KS and 500 KS means little to me (about $5) as I buy baskets or bracelets totaling 1000 KS, to a Kenyan that is a lot of loaves of bread. So I’ve not been keen on negotiating unless we get into higher math. Then I ask for one of our hosts or our drivers, and they put things on a level-playing field.  On this day: thanks, Moses! +  + We return, and I head up to the computer lab, which has about twenty computers altogether, and one with Windows 7! The Faith kids have been surprised to see on the shelves textbooks they are currently using in Parkland and East Penn school districts, alongside the out-of-date books, nubs of pencils, and scraps of paper also used here. (At shops, salespeople often write the amount they are charging on their hands, then putting a line through it and writing a new number as they bargain.) As I walk up to the lab, I look out onto the open flat area around which laundry is hung and a basketball hoop (minus net) is erected. And my heart sinks. We’re supposed to play football (soccer) and some of these kids are good. Really good. Not a surprise in some ways, as this is a soccer nation, but knowing balls are limited and time is focused on school here, I had hope—or at least delusions. No more. +  + In my mind I return again to the subject of vision. I think of the Rev. Jack Sharpe, retired now from the Govans Presbyterian Church in Baltimore Presbytery. Back when LCD projectors and Powerpoint were new (so it’s been awhile), he asked the Presbytery to co-sign a loan because they needed $8 million (!) to buy the Orioles’ old stadium (!) and build low-income housing, homes for the elderly, a health center and YMCA (!). I don’t know entirely how that has turned out, but it is that kind of vision that builds Tumaini Children’s Home, takes over Huruma Home for Children with Special Needs, supports the health clinic and starts the Gatitu Home for the Aged. And it is that kind of vision the church needs, that the world needs, and that God gives. If only we will receive. +  + Evening devotions for the first time, offered as part of “Talent Night” at Tumaini, with most if not all kids in attendance. We are having a farewell dinner with Eve and our partnership hosts, Rev. Muindi is closing our time together, and I…hear it? Feel it? But I’m not sure what it is. When we finally say our good-byes, this…sound… still clear, we discover that devotions started about half an hour before. Once we get there, we will later discover we still have 45 minutes of singing The acoustics of the tin roof get me to thinking of a wonderful novel, The Power of One, set in South Africa. The main character, whom we follow from boyhood through to a young adult, becomes quite popular among the black Africans of that country. At a pivotal point, his legion of supporters begins to sing, powerfully, movingly, until it feels like the whole world is full of song. I have written of the music here before, but this was a new level of singing, the world, the walls, our bodies vibrating in tune with words we do not understand but under which we stood. And even in the fifteen minutes of prayer that followed, I never knew if we were hearing an echo from the speaker, or if there was a constant murmur of assent, heads bowed flat against the tabletop, a constant strum of hearts whispering. Then, from the sublime to the ridiculous. John started the day with “Joy to the World,” now we heard “Jingle Bells” playing in the background as we prayed. If it was God’s intent that we smile, God’s power is so great that not only did I smile then, I’m still smiling as I think about that typing days later! And, now, a highlight for the ages. A group of Tumaini kids go forward to “present” (volunteer to sing a song, as happens at virtually every worship service I’ve attended). They begin singing, but it takes a moment to strike me: they are performing one of the songs that the Faith kids taught them! I’m reminded of my devotion on Psalm 19, of words going to the end of the world, of Pentecost, as everyone understood languages heretofore unknown to them, of the Spirit descending on this place, where music is not only heard but felt. Jack was beaming as he walked up to me. “I wish we could bottle this stuff.” “If we did,” I said, “we could only take a drop at a time, or it would be too much for us!” His “teacher” would come out all over shortly thereafter, as all of the Faith contingent joined in singing “We are One in the Spirit,” first alone, then joined by the clapping and singing of Tumaini. +  + Lisa and Marissa Decker are among our devotion leaders tonight. Using a metaphor that is apparently well-known among those of Faith, Lisa tells of Darcy’s necklace, obtained on her trip twelve years before. At the time, the Riamukurwe Parish was five churches (now eight), and her necklace had six animals on it. Darcy understood, in a way that has now been passed on through the “generations,” that Faith in Emmaus was the sixth animal, the giraffe on the necklace, because it needed a long neck to see across the ocean, to see brothers and sisters in the Parish and the children’s home. Lisa, speaking of the God-sightings that initiated and have permeated this trip, shared that upon departing the Nairobi Airport there were giraffes there to greet us, which she took as a sign of God’s pleasure at our youth meeting the Kenyan youth. I’m sure that Lisa, another one of our crack photographers, got a good shot of that welcoming party! And I can assure you that after hearing that story yet again, but for the first time in Kenya, giraffes are on many a shopping list. It was soon Marissa’s turn. I have really enjoyed getting to spend some time with her, as she can be a lot of fun, but she can also be very quiet. I often see her, her eyes narrowed taking in the world, and I wonder what she is thinking about. It is hard for people here to believe she is only eleven, given that she is as tall as I am. We sometimes see each other later in the day, realizing we really hadn’t seen each other earlier, so we started to stop each other at breakfast to say “I see you!” Her devotion regards an incident in which she tripped and broke her arm. The help she received in this time of need, and the healing she experienced then, spoke to her about God’s healing mercies and graces, and I am so glad she shared that in this place so in need of healing and grace. Saturday, July 31, 2010—Kenya 9         “Dirt Devil Steve” Everyone is moving a little slowly today, everyone except Jim, who is peeling the tape off from the completed painting. He’s trying to figure out how to get the tools and time needed to run over to Huruma with a few folks to build a loft for the calves. Two have died because of ticks, and he would like to prevent the third from suffering the same fate, and apparently ticks don’t jump very high. +  + I sit in the pews outside the church for a time of prayer, but am soon visited by many children. I begin to distribute pictures of myself (uncomfortable for me, but enthusiastically received by the kids for their photo albums), and prayer cards I made up: on one side “Made and prayed by Steve Shussett,” and on the other, Scripture passages that are meaningful to me. These range from my usual Habakkuk 1:5, “Be astonished, be astounded…” to Lehigh Presbytery’s unofficial motto for the Jeremiah Initiative, “For surely I know the plans…”; “I give thanks to God always for you” (I Corinthians 1:4) to Psalm 136’s refrain, “God’s steadfast love endures forever.” There was also “God is all in all,” and from the thinking of Eugene Peterson, “Jesus is going ahead of you…just as he said (Matthew 28:20).” I was soon swarmed under by children looking for one or more, some for the sticker that was on the front (a fish-shaped rendering of Jesus or a cross), while others wanted a particular quotation: I want that one, Steve!” And with each card I told the kids the same thing. Put this in your Bible, and whenever you see it, remember that I am praying for you, and many are praying for you. You are not forgotten. You are being remembered to God. +  +  During the morning devotions I am reminded of the “list of Jesus’ miracles” often found in the back of Bibles. Yet I am also reminded of John 21:25, “Now there were also many other things that Jesus did. Were everyone of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.” What else had Jesus done—and what, through his Holy Spirit, was he doing now? Darcy’s story of the giraffe having a long neck to see across the ocean started twelve years ago, now I have heard it through Lisa, then mentioned again in Diane’s devotion this morning, and now you have it heard it through me. How long can the list of God-sightings be? Diane shares one more of the millions more that could be written. She tells of the Partnership Agreement that was drafted by both the Parish and Faith, three versions in all. On reading, all three said basically the same exact thing! The Septuagint came immediately to mind, the first Greek version of the Hebrew Bible. Legend is that 71 scholars came together in the early days of the church, each one locked in a separate room with a Hebrew Bible. When each person’s translation was finally completed, all 71 were compared—and found to be exactly alike, to every jot and tittle! (Pardon me if my facts are a bit off; no access to the Internet to check!) This was not quite that perfect, but with one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all, this was a gift of community having one mind and one heart. +  + Field Day! The Tumaini youth have been waiting for this day, a frequent end of term occasion. Equipment may have been frayed or in short supply, but we played table tennis (one girl missed the national team by one point), badminton, different races (including the potato race, much like our egg race but less breakable and still edible), soccer, tug of war, and volleyball (with a soccer ball. Ouch.) We started with a warm-up lap, and as I saw one of my new friends we started to race. I suddenly realized that my top was moving faster than my bottom, and went flying! My left side was covered with the clay-like dirt of Kenya—and we hadn’t even started! I think it was my backpack throwing off my balance, but the possibility of clumsiness is not out of the question, as you will see. I played some ping pong and some badminton (won one on a comeback, and lost a tight one against our buddy Sammy, the Maine student), and watched some very fast kids run. One of those was Grady Millick, who has become quite the fan favorite around here. Field Day is serious business (at least for some), and there was an announcer with a microphone, identifying participants and doing play-by-play. When Grady’s name was announced there was a huge cheer, no doubt from all the friends he has made on his two runs with the track team and the evenings with the kids. He went two for four in the 100 meters against some remarkably fast people. He also went and took a long nap after playing soccer on top of running those 400 meters! I, on the other hand, would suffer a more inglorious fate. The men of Faith ran the 100M, along with one of our drivers. I was doing fine, a respectable fourth place, until once again—boom! No backpack excuse this time, just “Down goes Shussett, down goes Shussett!” No, the announcer didn’t say that, but afterward I sure did think it. Realizing how close I was to the finish line, I rolled into a standing position and finished the race, fourth I think, after Jim, Jack, and John, all of whom would later receive certificates of participation for placing in the race. Many of my new friends came up to me, concerned I was hurt (after all, this was the second time they had to check on me after a fall!) or that I had some disease that led to this problem. It was very sweet, and though I was a little embarrassed, I was also touched. I used the opportunity to ask them what a saint is, and when they said what they thought or that they didn’t know, I said, “A saint is someone who, when they fall down, gets back up. So I must be a saint, because I have fallen down and gotten up, fallen down and gotten up!” I did have my moment of pride, however, as I challenged Sammy to a re-match in badminton. Unlike our other games to six points, this was the real thing, to 21, and it soon become a spectator sport as we went at it, no one more than one point better than the other as we hit 17-16, then 17-18. It was very windy and the birdie was very light, so serving could be a challenge. At one of Sammy’s serves, it swerved at the last moment and went out. He protested, but to my defense came Elizabeth, Manager for Tumaini who reminds me somewhat of Professor McGonaghey in the Harry Potter books, who can be sweet and soft-hearted, or run one tight ship! She called it out, and eventually I beat Sammy. Given how few Americans beat Kenyans at anything, I admit to some pride in that! The day was filled with much picture-taking, including Tumaini children borrowing cameras so they could photograph their friends. Many of us spent the day just walking around with the children, hand-in-hand, or else sitting with them. One little boy moved my backpack out of the way so he could scoot closer, then moved to the other side of me so he could be closer still. My family had sent a couple dozen hacky-sack balls to distribute (Amazon sells everything!), so I told kids who looked lonely but active to “find a friend and I’ll give you a ball to play with together!” It didn’t take long to go through my supply! +  + Our plans had been to have dinner once again with the kids, because that first time had been a highlight for a lifetime. But we had learned the night before that we had been honored by an invitation to join Rev. Muindi at his home. As the “Pastor-Moderator” of the Presbyterian Church of East Africa, one of the most respected people in Kenya, and a man of honor and grace, we knew this was a special moment for us. Beatrice, a resident of Huruma and student at the Food Technology and Production School (or something like that), prepared a wonderful meal of traditional foods. Write it down: shredded carrots mixed with pineapple is delicious! It was a wonderful experience watching as our youth, Y(outh) 2 K(enya), sat at a nearby table with Rev. Muindi, talking, laughing, and eating. He intentionally sought to sit with them, even though other honored guests from the Riamukurwe Parish and nearby were there, and it was clear they were having a great time together. Not to overstate it, but it felt like it might if Nelson Mandela or George Washington sat down with your children, and enjoyed every moment. +  + Introvert as I am, and tired as I was, I was grateful Jack made a point of introducing me to three clergy-collared men. They were the Moderator of Nyeri Presbytery (must always be a minister of Word and Sacrament), their Stated Clerk (can be elder or MWS, and in this case, he is a tent-maker who works for a school), and a leading pastor in the parish next door. We spoke of the many things our churches and presbyteries have in common, and where our experiences were different, learning that the human condition, for good or ill, is something we share. I promised to send them information about the Center for Parish Development after sharing word of the Jeremiah Initiative to much interest. I hope your passport is ready, Ray! (He is our consultant from CPD). +  +  Alas, all good things must come to an end. We met to debrief what had been one more remarkable night on top of all the others. After a full day of field day, not to mention my brushes with gravity, I was tired. Watching the clock, at 9:50pm I packed it in. I can’t believe it. The matron came early! Three flights up, three flights down.

Sunday, August 1, 2010—Kenya 10            “Alicia, we bought a pet!”

Getting up early, I started packing and sorting what would come home and what I’d leave behind. Tomorrow was an early departure, and this would be a late night.

+    +

Diane Millick and I were off to Chorongi for worship, the site of the not-yet finished church and “clown car” experience. As was the case last week, the Session met in the vestry between services to plan. “Mrs. ___, you are our reader today,” she nods and marks the place in her Bible. No hemming and hawing; you always have to be ready to participate. I was told I would read from Matthew’s Gospel. I looktoed outside and saw someone with an Obama hat on, to go with the Obama calendar in one of our apartments. A Kenyan-American, he is a source of great pride here, and people often ask how he is, and how his presidency is going.

This trip has been a stripping of comfort zones for me, one after the other. Next time you see me, I’ll either be stronger than ever before or a quivering mass. Time for presentations, and Diane (who during her devotion announced this was only her second time doing such a thing) and I had to sing. We introduced ourselves and did a duet of the doxology, probably the only thing for which we knew all the words! Thanks be to God that the “’joyful’ noise, not ‘good’ noise” rule was still in effect!

Following the presentations came the announcements. Chip Colson has remarked to me that one of our challenges as a church today is that the church is no longer “the local watering hole.” I don’t know if he uses that phrase out of his Kenya experience, but it sure takes on meaning here. Imagine all the announcements in your bulletin being read aloud. Every single one. This church is hosting an event in two weeks, other churches coming for dinner. Who will bring the cabbage? Good. Who will bring the sugar? Well? We aren’t going anywhere until someone volunteers to bring the sugar. You? Good. This was all in Swahili or Kikuyu, but we knew exactly what was going on!

+    +

Let’s see…we got to the church at 10am, met with the vestry to plan the service at 10:30, went into the sanctuary at 11 and had announcements, the presentations. Diane and I had take some of the blame for the length of time, because we introduced ourselves before our song, and then had to do so again so someone could interpret for us. Even so, at 12pm I was relieved to recite the Apostles’ Creed: worship! Finally!

Oh. Wait a minute. Not yet. It was now time for a special offering for some church-related matter, perhaps the building of the church. The congregation is divided between two districts, and each has to contribute weekly. First there was a queue of people dropping money into baskets, representing on one district. Then the other district contributed to the greater good by bringing items for auction. Then the fun began!

Diane remembered that the Tumaini children had not had sugar cane for a treat in  quite a while, and recent efforts to acquire some had fallen short. So when a bundle of cane came up for auction, we conferred and bid for it. We won! To the congregation’s laughter at our participation, Diane explained why we bought it.

Next item: more sugar cane. I’m just soaking in the environment, finding this to be a fascinating and funny experience, not really paying attention to the auction itself anymore, until that cane is bid upon—and announced that it was purchased for us! Diane and I were just floored, and just as I picked my smiling jaw up off of the ground, the next two were purchased for us as well! The children were going to love this.

Over the course of eggs, cabbage, potatoes, and chickens, we bid upon or were given avocados and some other produce. Just as importantly, an older man of the congregation who was unable to provide himself was the beneficiary of several items. Some people bought things they wanted or needed, but much of it was simply to support the cause.

At one point I looked down at the floor, at the pastor’s feet just inches from my own. She did not seem to be aware of it, but there was a black rabbit wandering down there! I thought it had come in from outside, and with my eyes wide, I motioned to Diane. My interpreter saw the excitement, and explained that the bunny would be up for auction, but had escaped its box. When the time came, Diane, having explained that the boys of Tumaini raise rabbits for a hobby, and that they had an empty hutch, the plan was on.

At an appropriate time I placed our bid. Jane, our host for dinner just nights before chimed in, saying “Twenty more!” I thought she was bidding against me at first, then understood she was saying that whatever I gave, she would add to it. But the auctioneer, either sensing a bigger score or wanting a rabbit, said that if he didn’t get 200 KSh (Kenya Shillings) he would pay that amount and keep the rabbit himself. Before I could figure out what that meant, our friend Ann, the Parish secretary, came up with the needed funds. We had ourselves a bunny!

But the fun did not stop there. A carved wooden chair with red velvet seat and back had sat in the aisle, bearing some of the wares for auction. Ultimately it became the last item for auction. I asked the interpreter what a good price would be, and realized that for an American that price and more could be easily reached. When the time was right, I was chimed in. Someone raised me. I raised them, 50 KSh at a pop.

“___ to America!” the auctioneer said.

“___ to Kenya!” followed a moment later.

“___ to …West Virginia!”

“___ to Kenya!”

I responded, “I’m from Pennsylvania! Fifty more!”

The auctioneer followed, “Come on, we can’t let him buy this chair and take it to America!”

“That’s not fair!” I said. “You can’t tell them what I’m going to do with the chair if you don’t know!”

And so it went. Finally, the excitement having built, and the amount reaching a satisfactory level for my tastes, I said, “What if I bid this amount, and promise to leave it here so that I can sit on it in your completed church when I come back to visit?”

“Only if you promise to preach!” came the reply. And so now I also had a chair, and an invitation to preach.

+    +

After a quick lunch at the church and visiting with some children preparing for an upcoming choral competition, we were whisked back to Tumaini for the joint worship service with Faith, conducted by telephone. I had been on the Emmaus side before, but it was something to see from Nyeri, the buzz of technology and trouble-shooting all the same.

For one thing, I had no idea that the Tumaini contingent was sitting outside, which was tough on a cold day (even for we hearty Pennsylvanians) when children were seated as much as an hour ahead of time. Several of our contingent helped by leading songs with motions to help with boredom and the chill. David led the Tumaini choir in three pieces. The service itself was about forty minutes long, with words to prayer and song offered together or alternatively. The sound was crystal clear, but with some tininess reminiscent of the portrayals of 1930s radio. Karen Trop did a fine job with her part of the message, a response to Nancy the Evangelist’s homily on Dorcas. One of the best moments was when each side of the ocean had contributed a verse to “Amazing Grace,” and then we all sang the last together. Very cool!

From there we shuffled off to…what? I had no idea, although I had heard some mysterious murmuring. All of the children, all of the partnership leaders, all of the Faith folks, gathered outside of our apartments. Then Rev. Muindi started to speak, and it all became clear, and I was honored even to be associated with what was happening: the wing of dormitories was being dedicated to Faith Church, and a plaque read as follows:

This plaque was unveiled on 1^st August 2010

By Youth 2 Kenya, Faith Presbyterian Church, Emmaus PA

In recognition of the contribution of their church to the construction of this building.

“With God all things are possible.”

I felt the pride one does at a friend’s success, very moved at all of the people there for this occasion. A “helicopter shot” of the crowd was taken from the apartments above, and a huge group photo of everyone involved was set in front of Imani Hall. It was a remarkable moment that a few short paragraphs could never cover.

+    +

The air still abuzz, we were finally able to shuffle the Faith kids over to the matron’s office. I was especially eager to get Rachel over there, and was rewarded by her shriek at seeing our new “pet.” Everyone was so happy, and that happiness extended to the bunnykeepers, who upon fingering through the fur were thrilled to discover that this was a “she,” meaning she can have even more bunnies! Then it was off to dinner, and another Kenya memory in the making

+    +

At Field Day on Saturday choir director David had begun teaching me the words to a traditional song about how nice and welcoming Kenya is, including words more familiar from the Lion King, hakuna matata, “no worries.” It is very catchy, and given that we spent many a free moment singing it together, I couldn’t get it out of my mind. It is shocking that I was singing it aloud with him; by now I had no comfort zones left to stretch!

Now, on the way to dinner with Caesar, I burst out in a line from the song. All of the sudden prim and proper Caesar becomes Youth Chairman Caesar, and we walk a few hundred yards singing together with great enthusiasm—and we don’t stop upon entering the Fellowship Hall. He and I are singing and dancing full throttle, and it is minutes later before I realize there is a crowd behind us singing along as they are able, from the Kenyans who know every word to the newbies in on the chorus! We sing louder and louder, and dance more and more enthusiastically, celebrating in song and dance just how wonderful Kenya is and has been for us, just how welcoming the Riamukurwe Parish has been. Every time I think we are about to stop: one more time! It was an incredible moment I’ll never forget.

Jambo Bwana

Chorus                        Jambo - Hi

Jambo bwana - Hi sir

Habari gani? - How are you?

Mzuri sana - Very fine

Wageni mwakaribishwa - Visitors are welcome

Kenya yetu - Our (country) Kenya

Hakuna matata - (there are) no worries

Verse               Kenya nchi nzuri - Kenya is a nice country

Hakuna matata - (there are) no worries

Nchi yenye amani - A peaceful country

Hakuna matata - (there are) no worries

Nchi ya kupendeza- a beautiful country

Hakuna matata - (there are) no worries

Nchi ya maajabu - A wonderful country

Hakuna matata - (there are) no worries

Nchi yenye milima - - a mountainous country

Hakuna matata - (there are) no worries

Nchi ya Tumaini- a hopeful country

Hakuna matata - (there are) no worries

This was to be our farewell dinner, and representatives from nearly all of the churches were present. The place was full of stories and laughter, and I sat with Rev. Muindi and Peter, talking about my experiences and our common hopes for the church universal. I felt moved shortly thereafter to join in the speeches being made. I noted our ordination question regarding “energy, intelligence, imagination, and love,” lifting up Rev. Muindi, Principal Samuel, Eve Tolley, and Jack Decker as people who had seen visions and dreamed dreams, which is something that the church as a whole has to do more. And then pointing to Peter and the partnership committee and Manager Elizabeth, I noted that having vision is one thing, but bringing it to life something entirely different; many people see great opportunity but can’t help it happen. But God didn’t just have a good idea for a Messiah. God breathed life into dust to make us, and breathed life into Mary to bring Jesus to flesh and blood.

After our speeches, emcees from both partners called forth members of their parties to present gifts. I don’t know if it was intentional or not, but I was honored to be given my gifts by Rev. Muindi and Peter, two men worthy of great respect. I gave Virginia, my email partner on the devotional, a PCUSA cross that I purchased at the General Assembly, along with a sheet detailing the many symbols contained within it. And a wonderful moment of joy, as Rev. Muindi showed off the friendship bracelet he had received along with all of the Tumaini children and many others, the fruit of Rachel’s labors over the past few months. “Now I am one of you,” he said. “When I say ‘Come!’ you come!”

+    +

Then, the anticipated hard part: both long-time pen pals and eight-day-old friendships suffering through saying farewell. There were real tears from some, jesting tears meant well from others. Some of our new friends were “sick,” and unable to come out to say good-bye. It is wonderful to make friends, but making friends sometimes means you have to leave them.

Monday, August 2 to Wednesday August 4, 2010-—Kenya 11-13

The next morning came too early, as many of us had to pack after a long day of worship and a long night and wide range of emotions. Many kids came out even though it was early, and again, many tears shed, many notes exchanged. Much hand-holding and many hugs, some now “well enough” to come out.

As I anticipated Jack’s closing prayer, I thought about Jesus, his arms spread so wide as to reach across oceans, across language and culture, his arms wide enough to draw all of us in together.

+    +

Recently Andrew said that our whole purpose for coming was the Parish and its ministries, primarily Tumaini, and so leaving that for a safari made the latter seem less important. I readily agreed, as has everyone else with whom that has come up. That said, our last few days had many memorable sights and memories.

+    +

We still haven’t seen the top of Mt. Kenya, but the sheaf of clouds broken occasionally by random beams of sun on the mountains base is stunning.

+    +

I am excited to see these flat trees that I know mostly as the logo to the PBS program Nature. I learn first that they are acacia trees; later I discover they are covered with nasty thorns that threaten us as we go on game rides. “Close your windows! Duck your head!” Alas, on a walk on the wild side I suffer a small tear in my pants, but I still love the look of these trees.

We see these trees in new terrain, long expanses of flat land broken by the occasional tree, and more rarely, a copse of them. Then there will be tall grass, machete-worthy, and many trees. I see my first very small mosque after having seen so many little churches. We are entering an area that will become progressively more Muslim.

+    +

Rapid fire:

We cross the equator and begin to talk of the water going in reverse direction.

Suddenly, Diane shrieks. There are two people on a motorcycle with a sheep on the seat between them!

We see a sign on the side of the road: “With God all things are possible.”

I think we saw plenty of evidence of that before the sheep, but that seals the deal.

+    +

Into the game preserve as we make our way to the Sarova Shaba Game Lodge in the Shaba National Reserve. The land is incredibly bumpy, especially for those in the back of the van, as we drive over volcanic rock from Mt. Kenya and elsewhere. We are so eager to see an animal that Lisa yells “Giraffe” before we realize that the long neck is on a short body: it is a camel! We all have a good laugh. It has  taken us to five hours from Nairobi, and we soon discover just how much hotter it is here. We drink more water on 1 ½ hours than on a whole day in Nyeri.

We go out for our first game ride, about four hours long, from 3-7pm. We’ve been told you can go out for days and not see much. Not this time. My unofficial list shows:

Zebra                    Oryck              Squirrel          Baboon                       Grand Gazelle

Ostrich                  Wild Hog        Impala                        Water Buck                Dik-Dik (a small deer)

Thompson Gazelle

We are thrilled to see giraffe. They look so placid eating, the very definition of “languid.” But we know that appearance of slowness is deceiving with legs that long. Then elephants go past us a set of two, then three, a huge one with two  youngsters! They take mudbaths, and dust baths, throwing it high over their heads. Are those giraffes over there? There’s one…two…eleven! And a baby! Then later, “It is a lion! There are three!” And the next day, elephants walk up to the vans, a cheetah walks between, and a hippo barely breaks the surface of the water—but you know it’s there!

And this does not even count crocodiles in the stream running through the resort or the monkey at our hotel room. There is excitement with every sighting (until you get to 15-20 of them) but no one gets tired of looking for big cats in trees or the silhouette of an elephant or giraffe

There are also many birds, more than 350 varieties. I apologize to my aunt and uncle, birdwatchers that they are, that I have little idea of what I saw, but Karen reveals herself to be quite the bird lover and photographer. It is good to have someone looking out for them, instead of only looking for the more “popular” animals!

+    +

At our first lunch Rachel and I act on the book Missional Renaissance and ask Joseph, our waiter, if there is anything for which we can pray for him. He smiles, makes his request, and on invitation, says he will come back in a moment and pray with us. Now he seeks us out daily, at every meal. This whole trip has been about faith, and it is good to stretch ours in this way.

The British are at it again. Yesterday at 12:20 and again today, the large artillery punches the air and pushes in against the screened window. It is hard not to jump. The maître de goes to each table to reassure us that it is safe. It reminds me of Louisville, where the cannon at Fort Knox, 45 miles away, would dot our hearing.

+    +

Break-In!

I was doing some work when, looking out the window, I wave at a security guard walking past. He waves back, then walks to my door. I think, “Wow, that’s awfully friendly.” He smiles, then tells me that because our window was left open during our game ride yesterday (must have been the previous guests doing), at 5pm a monkey broke through the screen, entered the room Rachel and I share, and stole sugar packets. Had we had any fruit it would have been a terrible mess! As it is, the hotel staff cleaned up the spilled sugar and the torn screen was the only remnant. By the efficiency with which they replaced the screen later, it is clear that this happens often!

+    +

We make a cultural visit to the Samburu people, who at some point in history split from the more famous Masai. We dance, visit hut and school, and learn about this nomadic, pastoral (they live off of their herds) people. Some interesting God-connections for me, though I need to think through the implications:

When someone dies, the body is wrapped in cowskin and left out for the hyenas. If it is eaten, that is taken as evidence that this was a good person. If not eaten, goat intestines are placed nearby to attract hyenas. What does this mean for Christians who follow the One who said, “This is my body. Take and eat.”?

And what does it mean that their primary foods are milk (for children), meat, and animal blood (a “Samburu cocktail”: milk and blood), when we are fed by Christ’s blood, shed for us?

+    +

Could it be? It is! Mount Kenya! It is from a distance, but even so: impressive.

+    +

If I ever open a driving school or company (as we have often seen along the way  here in Kenya), I’m hiring Bonny and John. They are good company, good drivers able to swerve potholes to both left and right and on the berm (every lane is a passing lane around here) and keep us under control on roads that make the Pennsylvania Turnpike seems as smooth as the Indianapolis Speedway. Plus they can teach potential drivers how to go the equivalent of Allentown to Pittsburgh (4.5 hour game rides) without stopping for bathroom or nap breaks-twice a day!

+    +

Street vendors: artfully stacked baskets of potatoes, culminating with a column of them, one on top of the other, several potatoes high. Coffins. After much Yankees gear, finally a Penguin “fan.” Teletubbies and other toys.

+    +

We are taken through the better neighborhoods of Nairobi, but even then, among high walls and fences and large estates, there is rust, faded paint, bumpy roads. We go on Embassy Row: Morocco, US, Canada, Belgium, Ukraine, UN buildings. We see throngs of people going to vote in what will be a clear victory for the new Constitution, two-to-one.

We enter the Presbyterian Church of East Africa Guest House and Conference Center. It’s too late, and voting day, so visiting their General Assembly is out of the question. Big open green spaces, some trees, several buildings, all behind big gates and fences. That seems to be the way of life, because even rural homes are often behind locked gates. We are startled at first to hear the call to prayer from the nearby minaret, as Muslims are reminded it is time for one of their five periods of prayer: the first one of the day comes at 5:42am.

+    +

I am glad it has worked out that Bill and Stephanie Black, members of Lehigh Presbytery and faculty members at a seminary in Nairobi can meet us for dinner, joining old friends of Jack’s from a previous Kenya trip. It is good to finally meet the Blacks, learn of their ministry here and hear their stories from over a decade in Africa, and it is good for Faith folks to hear how the stories of Rev. Muindi and Chip Colson and the Blacks intertwine. One more reminder of the connections between us.

+    +

We are nearing the Sahara desert on our way home, and the battery is nearly dead. This has been an opportunity beyond measure, and though I miss my old comfort zones, I’m eager to see how my vision and way of understanding God and the world are different now, and look forward to the next opportunity of this kind, to visit Nyeri again and to see other parts of the world. My eyes have been opened to much, and I hope yours have through this time together.

Truly,

Be astonished, be astounded, because things are happening around us that we wouldn’t believe unless we were told!

To God be the glory.

July 23, 2010

They have arrived safely in London and had a wonderful time visiting a castle.  They are all very tired but in good spirits.  Steve and Jack are having internet problems and are hopeful they will be able to remedy that by the time they arrive in Kenya.

Will keep you updated as I hear from them.

July 26, 2010

Alicia Shussett begin_of_the_skype_highlighting     end_of_the_skype_highlighting has received the following text message from John Gill:

 "We're here. Please let families and others know we're OK and learning the Kenyan way.  So far we haven't quite worked out the entire phone thing. Jack has been having technical problems but hopes to have them worked out today."

additional report:

Louise Schaeffer (Faith PC Emmaus) had communication with Jack Decker (part of the Faith PC group in Kenya) and Virginia Munyiri (from the Parish in Kenya).  Here is what they report:

Jack Decker:  All is going very well. The kids are doing fine and relating well with the students there. Another group is there now as well, but leaving Friday so things will be a bit less hectic in general at the parish then. The plane ride was a challenge, but that is behind them.

Virginia (from the Parish in Kenya): Yesterday was a big celebration for several students of Tumaini who just graduated from college, and she said our group from Faith PC participated in the celebration, which was a big one. 

Louise imagines that their entire Sunday was scripted around that celebration and the ensuing meals and speeches and ceremonies.

Louise inquired particularly about Marissa (as she is so young, aged 10), and Virignia reported that she is doing very very well in relating to the children.  She has made good friends with Virginia's daughter of the same age.  Jack said she just goes off on her own and relates to the kids.  

No one is having any trouble with the food, everyone is eating and digesting just fine.

~~~~~~

Alicia Shussett begin_of_the_skype_highlighting     end_of_the_skype_highlighting was in communication with Steve Shussett (part of the Faith PC group in Kenya). He and Rachel and all the rest are well. The students are prepping for finals and Rachel was helping some study, and generally having a great time. Technical difficulties with communication are a problem, but they are at least able to use one phone to call out. He hopes to call again in a few days. He is writing the blog, but is unable to send it. It will probably be posted after the trip unless they can resolve the communication issues.

~~~~~~

That is all the updates from Kenya for today.  Hopefully the communication challenges they are experiencing will be cleared up soon.

July 27, 2010

Hi,
This is the first email from our trip. The internet connection has not been possible until right now. I only have a chance to send a quick email.

Sunday- we attended four different churches. Steve ended up preaching, Diane had to sing, Rachel & Jackie lead the youth in a song, and the Deckers all sang.

Monday - We visited Huruma Home, the primary and secondary schools.  It was very informative. The best part for all was eating side by side with the children. Since the last visit here, in 2006, much has been improved!

Tuesday we took a trip to Tea factory. Tonight we will have dinner at a church.
The youth have really enjoyed spending time with the children. This week is exams for the children, our youth have helped them with their work.  On Friday and Saturday we will be playing games, crafts.....and spending more time together.

On Wednesday we will be painting the hall on the church grounds.

Everyone is having a good time.
Not having an email or phone connection has been a little trying...but we all checked in at least once with our families at home.

The biggest shock is the weather.....COLD and DAMP!

We all send our love and prayers. We hope to write again soon.
Laurie