A Little Delayed

As most of you have noticed we're way behind on posting notes.  Between the lack of internet and some minor illness we've been put on hold.  I'll try to catch up as many as I can on Sunday but please know we are safe and waiting in Minneapolis for our final flight to YYC.  I doubt any of us will want to go anywhere soon once this is done!

lisa

Angels in Mwingi

It was already getting dark Friday as we headed out on our usual jaunt to the Cafe Kazuri for dinner.  As normal, I somehow ended up leading the charge and walking beside me was a mother and her young child.  I waved, the kid stared.  I waved again, the mom smiled and the child stretched out his hand.  I stretched out my hand…and he grabbed it.  He held on tight and we walked for most of a block with me on one side and his mom on the other.  His mother seemed to think it was amusing as could be and behind me I heard a chorus of ohs and ahs from the rest of the team but for me it was like holding a little angel's hand.  We stared at each other the whole time, enamoured with each other as we walked and when we came to the shop his mother was stopping at he didn't want to let go, neither did I.  You know that warm gushy feeling you get when something perfect happens…I had THAT all night, and I still get it when I think of it. 

The first night we walked down that alley I was apprehensive and constantly on guard.  I didn't ever think any of those people would trust us and generally the kids seemed scared of us.  Yet in five short nights we'd gone from that to some little munchkin holding on for dear life.  It's a testament to how wrong first impressions can be.

Now if only I could figure out how to smuggle him home.

lisa

Nzeluni

We spent four days working in Nzeluni to help with the building of a weir.  Basically we carried rocks, big heavy rocks, a lot of them, for quite a distance.  The great thing about carrying rocks is that it gives you time to talk.  At first most of us talked to each other about where we were and what we saw but within hours we were talking to the kids who started carrying rocks with us.  They were young kids, about four to ten years old at first but they would carry rocks that seemed half their size and they would run, fast, up and down the river bed to show off how great they were at this rock carrying.  By the afternoon of the first full day there were teenagers who started to carry rocks with us and most of them knew at least a little english, some of them knew a lot.  We talked to them for the next few days about their lives in Kenya, our lives in Canada and most importantly the differences between the two.

While we were carrying rocks a group of the ladies from the community took care of making tea and the lunches we had every day.  For a large part of the time we were walking past them every couple minutes and we slowly got to know them too even though few of them knew English.  On the third day Janet hurt her back and it was decided that she should rest for a while and from then on she spent her time with these cooking ladies.  There was allllllways laughter coming from that group as we passed.  They really enjoyed her company and especially teaching her new words which she diligently wrote down in her book.  I think if we had stayed for three weeks she would have been fluent in KiKamba!

Our experiences in Nzeluni were very different from what we saw in Mitiboni in 2008.  By staying at the work site to share lunch with everyone else there we gained their trust and laughter a lot sooner than we did in Mitiboni.  As well the number of people who had at least a general understanding of english really helped us to build relationships and understand each other and the huge differences in culture that exist.  I don't for a second want to degrade how much we all enjoyed Mitiboni but I think it's fair to say that nearly everyone who was on their second trip really felt a deeper and more fulfilling relationship to the people of Nzeluni.  I'm sure that our confidence and ease in the culture helped in all this and I'm excited to see what this could mean in terms of our next trip to Kenya.

lisa

Devotional - Saturday, August 21st

Excerpt from: Seeing What is Sacred (Gire 2006)



Pages 10 -11


The Sacredness of Our Neighbor


Books in a way are sacraments that make the communion between an author and a reader possible. The white paper and black ink are the means through which one heart is revealed to another. But the paper and the words are merely the elements of the sacrament. What is sacred is the heart that writes the book and the heart that sits in silent communion to take and read what has been written.


The words that are read are small, waferlike things. But sometimes, on some page, God humbles himself to come through some of those words and touch the reader’s heart. It is not the words that are sacred but God who is sacred . . . and the person to whom he comes.


In a sermon C.S. Lewis once said that next to the Blessed Sacrament our neighbour is the holiest thing presented to our senses. Most of us though, are oblivious to that holiness except at rare moments . . .


“The awe that we sense or ought to sense when standing in the presence of a human being is a moment of intuition for the likeness of God which is concealed in his essence”, wrote the Jewish scholar Abraham Heschel. “Not only man, even inanimate things stand in relation to the Creator. The secret of every being is the divine care and concern that are invested in it. Something sacred is at stake in every event.”


Something sacred.


At stake.


In every event.


A sobering thought, if it’s true. And if it’s true, it changes everything. Every moment of our day, every day of our life. Every dinner with the family, every breakfast with a stranger.

Devotional - Friday, August 20th

Excerpt from: Out of Solitude (Nouwen, 1974)



Pages 31-32


Out of His solitude Jesus reached out his caring hand to the people in need. In the lonely place his care grew strong and mature. And from there he entered into a healing closeness with his fellow human beings.


Jesus indeed cared. Being pragmatists we say: “That is obvious: he fed the hungry, made the blind see, the deaf hear, the crippled walk and the dead live. He indeed cared.” But by being surprised by all the remarkable things he did, we forget that Jesus did not give food to the many without having received some loaves and fishes from a stranger in the crowd; that he did not return the boy of Nain to his widowed mother without having felt her sorrow, that he did not raise Lazarus from the grave without tears and a sigh of distress that came straight from the heart. What we see, and like to see, is cure and change. But what we do not see and do not want to see is care, the participation in the pain, the solidarity in suffering, the sharing in the experience of brokenness. And still, cure without care is as dehumanizing as a gift given with a cold heart.

Mama Boss Lady

While we were in Nzeluni helping with the build there was a group of ladies who cooked for us everyday.  One lady in particular was always in charge and was the only person I saw who could get the kids to stand in a line while we handed out stickers or candy or anything else for that matter.  Because of this I took to calling her Mama Boss Lady and she seemed to enjoy it immensely.

On the last day as we were talking about what the team's plans were I mentioned we were headed back to Machakos.  To my amazement she told me she had been born in Machakos and had met her husband in Nairobi and then moved to Nzeluni.  She hasn't left Nzeluni since and my best guess would tell me that's at least thirty years ago.

I know that in Canada you wouldn't think twice about meeting someone in a town 2-6 hours away that grew up in your hometown.   In Kenya, where we met a town full of kids who likely had never seen a white person before last week it's down right amazing.  It was a great reminder of the connections that surround us even when we aren't expecting them.

lisa

Tattoos in Kenya

Two years ago when we came to Kenya Eric and I were both told to keep our tattoos hidden as generally they were taboo.  This time, Titus (a young man we all befriended) had us explain our Thai tattoos and told us he's looking to get one soon too.  It's not just North America that's changing by leaps and bounds because of television and the internet.

lisa