Mind the African Gap

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2008-06-23T08:41:00.000-07:00

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http://mindtheafricangap.wordpress.com

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Day 30

2008-06-20T05:52:00.000-07:00

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Breakfast

I sat with Deborah Wilson, the nutritionist that I met last night. She talked to me about nutrition gardens and gave me some excellent recommendations of groups that do this kind of work. She told about the Unicef program she had just completed. Through a mixture of teaching and gardening she has had significant success in building indigenous programs that show results in getting children healthier. One of the issues she raised which I had never considered was the importance of a child having their own plate so that a parent could monitor if they were actually eating a balance of foods. In places where the family eats out of a shared bowl, this is complicated, but important. So many tiny details that need to be dealt with, lots of warnings of failed programs that were too complicated, too obtuse, and not natural to the environment. Totally convinced that we are on the right path.
Clean water + clean hands + a slightly improved diet = exponential impact for life and health.

Walk to Dickson’s
I set out, after reading for a few minutes, to get to Dickson’s office which is about a 25 minute walk. I noticed how apprehensive I was. I kept probing in my heart trying to figure out what was producing the feeling. I thought I was over the culture shock stuff, but felt it all over me again--like a rouge wave that suddenly rises up and strikes an unsuspecting swimmer.

I live by routine and not by faith. This is my conclusion. Once I had a routine here, I was able to manage the feelings, but all day today I’ve been thinking it was the last of the known. The next two weeks are really unscripted. I think the massive uncertainty, the pressure of what I want to accomplish began to creep, then flood back into my soul.

I look back on the last 30 days and sometimes it seems the minute hand on my watch was frozen in place, at other times I looked up and a day was lost. I wish I had accomplished more. I’m completely stuck on the Christmas program, I have the right amount of Nouwen cards, but I’ve got to get them to fall into the right order, our mission team is in the final days of preparation for Ethiopia, but there still contacts and supplies I need to find in Addis. Its like I am trying to juggle all these balls and suddenly I realized they were all falling at the same time.

I’ve spent a lot of time being quiet. Mostly my real life is spent talking, communicating, calling, visiting, and teaching. Here I have been free to listen, think, reflect, ponder, dwell, formulate, daydream, and ruminate. Sometimes that has been great, other times it is really hard. I am privileged to have been allowed this time by my church and mostly by my family. They have born the brunt of my being absent.

Buckner Kenya
Dickson came and collected me and we headed to the Baptist Children’s Center. It is on the opposite side of town and took a while to get through traffic and then over terrible roads to arrive. Since visiting last year they have built two new buildings. One is in the final days of completion and when occupied it will leave the BCC just two classrooms short of their master plan. They are very proud and the children that have been sharing the church building will now have classrooms.

I got to see the new electrical system. They have run by generator until this year. Through a gift by the Red Dot 100X fund they now have electrical power through the whole compound. I took pictures of the pole and the junction box. Dickson was so excited that the children now have electricity, and not just for a few hours each evening.

We stopped into several classrooms and kids were busy studying, but like kids everywhere welcomed the distraction of a guest in their room.

We also looked at the nutrition garden that they have and the drip irrigation they use to grow food for the children. I took pictures to take to Ethiopia and share with Getahun and our team.

Hamburgers
Dickson stopped at a hamburger place for us to have lunch. They have a Thursday special buy one get one free. I was ordering, so I ordered two burgers and one set of chips (French fries). Then the price. It was as if I was paying for two burgers. I remind him of the special. He said, “Yes, we have that special today.” Then I wanted to know why it was so much. He said I orderd two hambrugers. Yes, one is free. “No,” if you want only two hamburgers then order one hamburger and you will get two hamburgers. Fine I said and ordered one hamburger and got two. It was not a great burger, but the chips were really good.

Flora
I came back and started working on the Nouwen file. After and hour I started feeling sleepy so I began the process of packing. I really got anxious. It seems like my stuff has grown. I’m not sure how I got all this junk in these two bags. I did as much as I could and then went back to work on Nouwen. After a break for dinner I came back and finished phase two of the Nouwen project. I now have a calendar of everyday, I have the holidays on the calendar, the day of the week connected to the date, and I have the entire text of the four Gospels split into 365 readings and each days section is printed in the appropriate day. Phase three should take about 5 full days. I will retype all of my Nouwen quotes and link them into 7 categories and then assign all the “Day Quotes” to a specific day. . . Phase four is to write two or three thought questions for each day. Phase five is to connect every day to a photograph. Phase six will be to produce 365 separate pages that have all these pieces of information attractively organized on a page that can then be reproduced in a book form. In 2009 my church families will have opportunity to get the book or get a page delivered by email each day.

2008-06-19T04:56:00.000-07:00

Wednesday June 18, 2008

Last day at Tangaza

Today we turned in our papers. I wish that I could have heard a report from the other students, what they investigated and what they learned. I did talk to one person who wrote on colors in African culture. It sounded vaguely interesting, I would day blue or blue green.

Then we heard several concluding lectures and saw a presentation from one of the classes on the issue of leadership. Then we met in small groups and talked about leadership in the African context, what they look for in leaders, what they want leaders to do.

After it was over several of the American noticed how different we thought the conversation would have been if the group had been primarily American. The Africans seemed to value listening to the needs of people and helping people as the key elements of leadership. We went around the room and described a leader from our perspective (an African Leader). No one mentioned, vision, inspiration to move ahead, challenge, the future, goals. Nor did they mention moral leadership that moved counter to popular opinion. It was one of the places I felt that we really at two different places. I think we believe leadership should move us to the future; it appears the group I was with thinks real leadership focuses on the present and the past.

After lunch I we said a brief round of good-byes and I was off to complete my Nairobi journey.

Karen Blixen House

Since I knew how to ride the busses around I jumped on the #24 and headed to Karen Blixon's House which was only a few miles away. Made famous by the movie, Out of Africa, the farm house is a national museum.

I was the only one touring the building and had an excellent guide who was very knowledgeable. The building is furnished with original furnishings that were sold at auction when she went bankrupt and had to return to Europe. Since the movie, people have been donating her things back to the museum. Some of the other furnishings were props from the film that they donated to the museum.

The school she started still exists, as does the church she began. The area is named for her and her reputation for caring for the African people is very high. They said that she continued to send money to the people the rest of her life, though she never returned to Kenya.

At the end of class at Tangaza one of the teachers said, "Everyone bring joy to others, we just have to decided if we will bring it when we come or people will find it when we leave." Life with others is about making that decision.

Ngong

The road to Tangaza is called Ngong. Out of Africa begins with the line, "I had a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong Hills." The tour guide told me and then showed me the hills. He said the word Ngong is a Massai word that means knuckels. They say that when God gets angry with the Massai this is where he pushes down on the world.

The robet Redford character was buried at the crest of the second hill. This is a view from the Blixen backyard looking straight at the area.

Bus rides

After finishing the tour I went out to get a bus to Karen (a town) and then a different bus back to Nairobi. It was so weird sitting on those busses and reflecting on how much confidence I have now in my ability to navigate the city. I understand the money, the routes, where to sit, how to buy a ticket, how to tell them you want to get on, and how to tell them you want to get off.

I met a professional runner who travels the world running in long distance races. He trains in the high country. He was lean as a rail. He was reading a Christian book and we had a great conversation and exchanged emails.

Most people are very curios about me. Why am I on the bus? What do I think of Kenya? How long have I been here? Will I vote for Obama? Do I know the person they know that lives in the US? If you get in a bus and sit right next to a person you know that even if it is just for a little you are sharing life. You are on the same journey. It is one of the most equalizing feelings in life. I try to start a conversation eve time I sit down. Just to see whom (or is it who?) God will lead my way.

Preparation for the next leg

I dropped by the YaYa and sent off email, got some money to pay my final bill at Flora and set aside some for the Taxi ride to the airport. Then got back to the room and read my materials for the next couple of weeks and wrote out a daily schedule to make sure I get everything done. I have started thinking about packing, but haven't actually put anything into bags yet. My tidy little nest has to get all back into two equally balanced bundles. I was spot on with weight, so the little I have added will have to go in my carry on bag.

A Nutritious Dinner (Click on Cabbage to see article)

There was a new face at Flora, so as the rouving ambassador of the eating hall, I sat with him so that he would not be alone. He is a computer science teacher from Prauge, Czech Republic. He has taken a one year assignment at an Opus Dei College here in Nairobi. We struggled a bit to communicate, but had a good time. One of my friends from Tanzania came and joined us. We talked about his foot and his plans. The man from Prauge said, "Are you here together?"

"No," said the man from Tanzania. "He just (pointing at me) meets everyone at all the tables."

Just then a woman sat down at the table (also new to Flora).

"Where are you from?"

"New Zeland"

"And what do you do?"

"I'm a nutritionist."

"Really?," I say with too much excitement in my voice. We know that nutrition is one of the things we have to help with in Bantu. We just don't know how we are going to accomplish it. We don't know the plants, we don't know what they will think of the idea. We are just shoot in the dark on this one.

"Who do you do that for?"

"Well, I mostly do contract work. I work with NGOs in developing countries to help people with sustainable and local methods to increase people's nutrition. I've just come from Indonesia and am working in Tanzania, but hoping to get into Uganda. Nutrition is so important."

We then have half hour discussion about nutrition in low income, rural areas. She talked about nutrition gardens that help supplement people's diets with the vitamins they need. She talked about clean water being the foundation on which all other developments have to depend. She talked about hand washing. She is going to bring me contact information in the morning.

I really do believe God was in that moment at that table. I've been praying for just such a contact.

New Friends

I met with Ouma Owina, the AIDS educator. He was scheduled to speak tomorrow, but someone canceled so he presented today and then will speak again tomorrow. He is going to get me a visitor badge and I am going to go with him on Friday morning to the conference and listen to a couple of talks and visit the information booths and materials to see if there are resources we might need in Ethiopia.

We talked about his day and his dreams of finishing the Baptist School he had to leave because of finances. I could find worthy people to help here everyday.

This is the thing that will tear a person's heart out of their chest. We have access to resources that most of the rest of the world can only dream about. There is no way that it is fair. There is no way to make it fair. There is no way to fix this part of the world. There are no promises that can be made. There is just the lingering sadness.

When I said good bye to Maurice he said, "I hope we will meet again in this life."

And I responded, "If not in this life, then certainly in the one to come."

Mind the Gap

Day 28

2008-06-18T05:57:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Dominic

I forgot a story from Monday that I wanted to preserve. The way from downtown to Flora is all uphill. I like it because it gives me a great way to train. Since it takes about 20-25 minutes I am usually dripping with sweat when I get to the room. As I crossed the last major street out of downtown a really tall guy moved right past me. I decided to take my walking up a notch and see if I could catch him. In just about 50 feet I was in front of him and cooking up the hill. It wasn’t long until I could hear his footsteps right behind me. We were both in full stride.

No matter what side of the world you are on, boys will be boys. It was like a car race. He would pull ahead, and then I would pull ahead. He got jammed up by some people and I went far ahead, then I got stopped at a street crossing and he timed it just right and moved past me. By the time we reached the crest of the hill we were both smiling and we introduced ourselves. His name is Dominic. He is a student of international relations and his hoping to get a master’s degree in NGO management. He says he pays to ride into downtown, but always walks home for the exercise. He thanked me for the good walk and the fun and then he strode up Ngong Avenue as I turned into 5^th Ave. to get to Flora.

Nairobi National Park

I was planning to visit the park, which we pass every day on the way to Tangaza, on Thursday, but am going to be with Dickson instead, so today was the only day I could go. I decided to take my camera, but I kept it in my backpack and therefore decided to ride to town instead of walking. Then in downtown I got van on route 126 and headed to the park.

I arrived at 9:20 AM wishing I had been a little earlier when I realized it opened at 8:30 AM. I didn’t need to worry. I was the first one of the day. They have a Safari Walk, we would call it a zoo.

It encompasses about 40 acres and is very beautiful. They have the major attractions, lion, zebra, rhino, cheetah, jaguar, antelope, warthogs, cape buffalo, and others. It was quiet as I walked and looked at animals. I got a few shots, but they looked like animals at the zoo, so I switched to the birds that were free, but were hanging out in the park.

For the first hour I was totally alone. Then three guys walked through talking loud and scaring the birds. Then a group of 100-125 kids from a school arrived. The birds went into hiding. The kids were great. A group wanted their picture taken with me. I think they thought I was a zoo exhibit. I decided to circle back around to see the jaguar/leopard.

This is where things got interesting. One of the zoo maintenance staff was cleaning near the cheetah cage. He said, “You have already been around once.”

“Yes, but I did not see the jaguar, so I thought I would go and look again.”

“Have you ever petted a cheetah?”

“No”

“Would you like to?” He said, and he put down his broom.

I figured he was kidding, but he said, “Follow me.”

In a couple of minutes I was standing in the cheetah enclosure with the cheetah. It had been orphaned at about two weeks of age and had been hand reared by humans. The two workers began to play with the cat and invited me over. They took my camera and started taking pictures of me with this huge cat. It just laid on the ground and looked around and purred. This is obviously not an American Zoo.

Then we headed off to the Jaguar exhibit. He said this cat came to the Safari walk later in life and was used to some people, but not everyone. He walked me down next to her cage. She showed me her teeth “Mean mugging” as Catherine Rohr would say. I was inches away from this beautiful and scary animal. She would let the trainer reach in and touch her, but I was not interested.

An unforgettable experience.

Animal Orphanage

Most of the animals in the Safari Walk came from the Animal Orphanage that is next door. When abandoned animals or wounded animals are found in one of the national parks, they end up at the medical headquarters. If they cannot be returned to the wild, they make the Safari walk their home. If they are too little to car for themselves they go to the hand raising area.

The Animal Orphanage has lions, cheetahs, ostriches, monkeys, servils, and warthogs. When you walk through the gate a worker is assigned to you (later you need to tip them). Mine walked me through the cages. He asked me, “Have you ever petted a cheetah?”

“Yes” I said with a smile.

“Really?” He said incredulously.

“Yes, just a few minutes ago in the Safari Walk.”

“Have you held a lion cub?”

“No.”

“Would you like to?”

“Yes,” I said out loud. On the inside I screamed, “Of course ‘Yes,’ Are you kidding? A lion!”

We went to a building, the nursery, outside a trainer was working with a very young cheetah. Inside they opened a cage and out wobbled a three month old lion. They took my camera and handed me the biggest cat I have ever held. She did not squirm but looked around the room. I petted her, looked at her huge paws and very sharp claws (one was digging into my hand). After about 5 minutes they said it was time to go and that I had to leave the cat with them. We finished the rest of the area and then I looked at my watch. It was 3:00 AM in Texas. I seriously thought of calling and waking Cindy up. I just got to hold a lion cub. The only thing I regretted was not hold it up like Simba.

I didn’t call, but as I was finished I head back to town and sent an email about it to Cindy and a teaser on my blog.

An unforgettable experience.

Downtown.

I needed to get some paper to print my research paper, because my new friend and proof reader was making marks on the pages, so I went in search. I went from store to store begin sent from one place to the next, but all of them only selling reams of paper. I only needed about 30 sheets. After about 45 minutes I gave up and bought a ream of paper.

In my search I had gone back by the movie theater and they have a Tuesday special. Matinee movie, coke, hot dog, and popcorn for $5.00 bucks. I couldn’t pass up the chance. I saw the Forbidden Kingdom. It’s a B- martial arts film, but the hot dog was great. All in all the day was going great.

Hit by a bus

I left the theater and was headed past the conference center. They drive on the wrong side of the road and we had been given a stern briefing at Tangaza about being careful crossing the roads. They said lots of people get hurt in the roads. I have been extremely cautious. I look both ways. I look two or three times to make sure. Many of the roads have a midpoint sidewalk. First you cross to the middle, then to the opposite side. I came to one of those junctions. I easily crossed to the middle and was waiting for a large bus to pass. Behind it I there were no other cars. I looked right out of instinct to make sure no one was driving down the wrong side of the street as I prepared for the purple bus to pass. I think if I had been looking left this might have turned out differently.

At that moment, everything suddenly stopped. The next few minutes are very surreal. I heard a loud slap, I felt like I got hit by a sledge hammer on my left side, the a huge crash, screeching tires and a purple bus hitting the curb just a few feet to my right. The next image I can remember is seeing the driver talking over his shoulder to people in the bus. It becomes clear to me that his door has popped open right as he was passing me and the door hit me on my left shoulder. Then it has slammed back into the bus making the huge sound. The drive had reacted by swerving to the right and slamming into the curb.

The driver is looking at me like I did something wrong. People in the bus have their faces against the window looking at me. People on the street have stopped and are pointing at me.

I imagine everyone thinks I should be dead or bleeding or at the very least been knocked down by the impact, but somehow, it looks like the bus bounced off of me. Its just an illusion, but I feel really awkward so I cross behind the bus and start on my way back to Flora. The people on the bus shift sides and are standing in the bus staring at me. The driver looks at me and shakes his head.

It does not take long, but my arms starts to hurt and I get sore, but I take some pain medicine and I seems fine.

An unforgettable experience.

Finalize the paper

My friend the AIDS educator came over to my room. He had given incredible attention to my paper. We talked about it together first the ideas, then the grammar, and typos. He had trained as a pastor at a Baptist school in Tanzania, but could not afford to finish. He is employed by the church as an AIDS educator and is in town for a big conference that I saw being promoted downtown. We spent about an hour and half together.

Here I am in Africa being taught by this incredible gracious African man sitting and talking about Colonialism, tribal conflict, and the gospel. It was so rich and rewarding. When I left I made the corrections he had suggested and had a much better paper.

An unforgettable experience.

Day 27

2008-06-17T02:54:00.000-07:00

Monday, June 16, 2008

Breakfast

Its always interesting to see the new people at breakfast. If they are from the area, they seem to know exactly how to act. If they are from the US then they are confused. I know I was surprised by the simplicity of breakfast. A piece of bread, a cup of tea, and sometimes a fried egg, but if you don’t get there early or right on time then its, “No egg for you!”

The largest group of Americans to come to Flora arrived in the evening. There are 9 and they are headed to a mission trip. They are from Pheonix AZ from Grace Church. We had an interesting conversation about their work. It sounds similar to what we are doing.

I continue to find people who are in Africa trying to alleviate the suffering and difficulty of the situation. I don’t think one can come for the West without the firm conviction that something is seriously out of balance in the two worlds and that those of us with resources must extend our efforts to help others. But Nouwen said that guilt is not a good enough reason to try to help others. If it is guilt, then our tendency is to sooth our guilt with little concern for the actual accomplishment of real help. At the end of the day we feel good about what we have done, but we don’t ruthlessly evaluate our thinking or our results.

The trouble with this for us is that what might feel good to us, what might make us feel less guilty, might not be what is needed nor what is helpful. The West has invested money into Africa, but has not accomplished much. That is our real dilemma.

AIDS

I met an AIDS educator at breakfast. He is part of a program in Western Kenya and is in Nairobi speaking at a conference. He was articulate and passionate about his work. He told me that AIDS and violence go hand in hand and that there had been an increase in AIDS cases since the violence after the elections.

He said before the violence they had been seeing some successes. He invited me to come see there work, but that will have to wait for another trip. I really hope I can interest someone from Buckner into getting the training and helping develop strategies for us to use in Kenya and Ethiopia.

He was very interested in my paper and took a copy at dinner to read. We have an appointment to talk about it on Tuesday.

Obama

Obama mania is in full swing. Not a day has gone past without someone asking about him. Everyday there are multiple articles about him in the paper. He was mentioned in church Sunday. I see his picture in mattatus and in shops. The newspapers here even printed sections of the speech/sermon he gave last Sunday in Chicago on Father’s day.

The Christians here are so excited. They think Obama will help so much to counter the influence of Muslims. People here are excited to have such an outspoken Christian leader who reflects the racial complexities of Africa. Even if he does not win, they believe he helps represent the face of modern Christianity which looks less and less white and more and more racial diverse.

Museum

I went to the natural history museum. The last time I was in Nairobi our hotel was just past the entrance to the museum and I kept wondering how I could go see the inside. I never made it. I decided to make it a goal for this trip. In reading my fieldwork notes it suggested going to a museum so I gladly put this on my agenda. I met Maurice downtown and we walked to the museum, probably an hour journey. The walk through downtown was great. We stopped at the Catholic Cathedral (very modern) and it has a tall bell tower that I decided to come back to later and hike up for the exercise and view.

The museum has undergone extensive renovations and is very good. It has a section on the animals of Kenya. It looks like a Bass Pro Shop Taxidermy shop. It shows all the different adaptations that animals have made to their environment. There is a section on the history of the museum where there is information about the Leaky family and their legacy of knowledge about Kenya.

The display on fossilized remains found in Kenya is very interesting and shows comparative analysis of skulls.

The area of natural history I was most interested in was the section on birds. The history section said that the museum got its start from a group of bird watchers who were making a through collection of the birds of Kenya. This massive collection has hundreds if not a 1,000 birds. I looked through cabinet after cabinet of birds. I told Maurice that God was in a great mood when birds were being created--the incredible diversity, the beauty, the oddness, the joy. They could have all been blackbirds, but no there are amazing varieties.

Upstairs was an exhibit that was perfect for my class. It was as if they had been attending our lectures and then went out to get artifacts from communities that illustrated the ideas. Then they made a video about some of the rituals. We watched the whole thing. It was like getting to travel all over Kenya at just the right moments to witness the cultural being lived and taught. I am going to make a strong recommendation to anyone attending the program to start in this exhibit. Its like a fast on-ramp. There were also two very good photographic exhibits. The last exhibit was about stone painting and stone art very informative.

Like so many things we find in the great museums (British Museum, Louvre, Field Museum) they have been taken by the West as the spoils of conquest. The cave and rock art is being taken by the new conquest of Africa, materialism. People from the West are buying it from the black market. Much of it is being destroyed in the process of “recovery.” While in the exhibit and they are showing examples of the destruction it made me feel embarrassed for the greed and selfishness of our culture.

Day 26

2008-06-16T05:25:00.000-07:00

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Rain

I woke up to the sound of heavy rain. I thought of my clothes, but rolled back over. They will dry eventually. I got dressed and got out my raincoat and headed to church. It is just about a 15 minute walk. Lots of other people were headed to churches all around the area.

Church

I went to the Nairobi Baptist Church again for the 8:30 service. The singing was good and I knew a couple of the songs. The others were good and I tried hard on the Swahili songs to keep up. The sermon I head was fantastic. The wife of the man who preached last time preached this time. She is much better. I took a ton of notes.

It was as if God was speaking just to me. I think all the school, all of the reading, all of the listening just coalesced in the sermon event and I got clear in my head a few ideas. I got a whole sermon series for the fall and felt really energized when I left church.

The Sunday Paper

I bought the Sunday paper and came to Flora and sat outside and read the whole thing. Then I did the Sudoku. I actually finished it. Then I decided that for Father’s day I would go to the movie. The family had seen “The Incredible Hulk,” so I picked that same movie.

I got confirmation that the theater I had seen in downtown was the one advertised in the paper, so with 45 minutes to spare I set off for the movie. It was peaceful and quiet as I walked through town. My route took me right next to Parliament and then the main conference center, then past the basilica, and then finally into downtown.

I got to the theater and bought my ticket (assigned seating), got popcorn and a diet coke all for about $6.00. The theater was very nice, big screen, steep seats, great sound, and the film was not scratched. I loved it. After the show I came back to Flora.

Calendar

I went to work on adding the scriptural text into each day of the calendar. I got through two months in about 2 hours. So that gives me a rough guess of how long that step of the process will take. After I get that completed I will take the 365 readings from Nouwen and link them to each day of the calendar. That will be a huge typing job and a huge undertaking. When I finish that I will start trying to add a photograph to each day. Then I will have a series of questions that amplify or unpack the day. Sometimes I look at it and shut down for feeling overwhelmed. All I can do is the next part I tell myself and try to push on.

My bible program stopped working again, and without it the project is sunk. I’m trying not to think about that while I take a break and write this report. Hopefully I can figure out what is wrong this time and get it back up and working.

Unexpected Dinner

I went to dinner expecting another quiet meal. Then I saw a face that made me think a conversation might develop, but they went and sat at the opposite end of the room. I had passed up sitting with others, thinking we were going to sit together, and when that didn’t happen it felt too awkward to get up and move tables. So I sat alone and ate. I was a little sad. No, I was really sad.

Then a lady came and sat at my table. We started to talk. She is from Western Kenya and near the area I had traveled. We had a great conversation. She was so interested in what I had been learning and my impressions of her area. She couldn’t believe I had a son in college.

About that time one of her friends came an joined us. She is from Zambia and just moved to Nairobi on Monday and is looking for a home. She is on a three year assignment working with NGO’s in trying to help them increase their capacity and especially to help them help women. She was so bright and helpful. She ran a radio and communications division where she came from and is now the director of communications for a large African consulting firm. She was in charge of an AIDS awareness program that sounded really interesting

What they found is that their AIDS education materials were not getting read. There is not universal literary so they tried to think of other ways of getting the information out to people. Public service announcements on the radio get tuned out, so they decided to co-op radio soap operas. Yes, that is what they have hear. Similar to the states, but on the radio.

They hired writers to help write characters and situations into the regular scripts and had them deal accurately with the information. Over time they were able to get lots of good information to lots of people. Very impressive. I was so encouraged by the end of the meal.

Ethiopia Team

I wrote a long report to the team that will be meeting me in Ethiopia. I’m so excited about the trip and think what I am learning is going to set the stage for a number of strategic initiatives in Ethiopia that I believe will bear great fruit for the gospel.

Father’s Day

I called my Dad to wish him a “happy father’s day,” but they were out. I left a message, but since I know he reads this frequently, then I will say it again here, “Happy Father’s Day!”

Day 25

2008-06-16T05:23:00.000-07:00

Saturday, June 14, 2008

The time gap between Nairobi and Athens is weird. When I am getting up on Saturday, Ya’’ll are going to bed. This morning I got a text from Cindy that they needed some info that they thought could help them to find. We tried by text for a while, but then I called. It was a difficult time and one of the first times it really felt like my being gone was a bad thing for my family. I carried a lot of guilt around all day, but couldn’t figure out how to help in the situation.

MOMA - Museum of Modern Art

My next field research was to go to an art exhibit about the post-election violence. Since my paper is on peacemaking in the light of the riots, I thought it might be helpful to try to crawl inside some of the thinking at the time. The art exhibit might give me a unique insight. I left late from Flora because of the phone call and really hurried to downtown. I got their 8 minutes early ( I hurried een faster than I thought possible). Maurice and I then went to meet a couple of other teams that were going to the same exhibit. We had to wait about 30 minutes, so all the hurry was unnecessary. I bought a coke because I was thirsty.

The exhibit was painful. It was graphic. There was lots of death. It was scary. The disparity between what was going on at the street level and what was going on at the political level was stark. In all of the time of the hanging chad, I never felt like our country was going to descend into madness. It happened here.

It is clear now that the president of Kenya stole the election. They continue to refuse to make a full accounting of the ballots. His party hired thugs to go into the towns and help create the violence and pit tribes against each other. They staged the crisis, knowing that it would give them power to negotiate. They should have lost all power but managed to keep 50% of the power. It was so terrible.

There were photographs from the towns I had visited in Western Kenya. It is hard to believe the cynicism required to use age old tribal injuries in this way. It makes me so proud of our system of government, and so glad for great leaders in our past who limited themselves.

Yaya and beyond

I made it back to Flora and at a quick lunch and then headed to the Internet Café to see if I could help the home information situation. I took a bus and got there in about 8 minutes. I ran up the stairs only to find the door closed. The lights were on, but they told me the Internet was down. I got on a computer and typed my Friday blog hoping the computers would start working, but to no avail.

I asked if there was another place near. They sent me across the street. The difference between the YaYa and the second floor of the opposite building was stark. One is a place the other a hovel. One is shiny the other smudged.

The Internet crawled, sputtered, stalled and then died. After 30 minutes I gave up and went back across the street to wait. Still it was on the fritz so I wandered the stores until finally the door was open.

After an hour I had not solved the problem back home, felt totally like a failure, and logged off and walked back to Flora. It started to rain. I didn’t have my jacket or an umbrella. I crossed the street to catch a bus and it didn’t stop when I tried to wave it down.

The rain drop on the end of my nose turned loose.

By then I decided there was no real reason to get in a small box with other wet sweaty people, so I just kept walking. By the time I got back, the rain had stopped and I was mostly dry. The cloths I had hung out in the morning were still damp.

Flora

I typed notes from the day. I added information to my paper that I got from Dickson, and made sure I had completed everything else I could. Then I started in on the Nouwen project for a couple of hours.

By the end I had a calendar produced with the four Gospels split into 365 different units and had assigned each unit to a day. I had also gotten the official holidays and put them into the calendar. At that I quit.

I then read another 100 pages in my book on South Africa, and drifted off the sleep.

Day 24

2008-06-14T05:11:00.000-07:00

** Just added first three days of trip, about Lawrence, my friend Holly, and my hike. Click on May on the left side and read 1.5, 2, 3. **

Friday, June 13, 2008

Translator

When I jumped on the van our friend who had been mugged was sitting on the back seat. He face was swollen. He has stitches on his forehead. His moustache was half-shaved and he had more stitches on his top lip. He was black and blue. We talked for a while. He told us the story. They missed several buses, had three flat tires, got to town late, couldn’t find a bus, got a bus, but would not go all the way. He got out close to his residence, but right infront of the store. He decided to stop quickly and then head home.

He does not remember anything about the attack. He just remembers waking up in the emergency room. A person had brought him from off of the road, paid a deposit and guaranteed to pay the bill if necessary (just like in the Bible).

Last day of class

This was the last day of lectures. Dr. Katola tried to finish with evil and its manifestations in society. Heard lots of stories of how these beliefs influence so many daily behaviors.

At the end of class he met one-on-one with us and reviewed our papers. He had only a few suggestions for me, so I was glad to get to go quickly. I have three more interview events to complete through the weekend, revise my paper, a take home test, a class assignment, and book reading and then I turn everything in next Wednesday.

Dickson (Click on this and read about Dickson's recent success)

Maurice and I had rescheduled to meet Dickson this afternoon, so we grabbed lunch quickly and then headed across town. This is way easier to say than do. We grabbed a Mattatu that got us back into town. Then we got one that was to go across town, but at the Kibera slum it turned into the slum. Kibera is the largest slum in Africa with over 1,000,000 people living in it. Not the place for us.

We jumped out and started walking. The roads were in gridlock, so we put on our walking shoes and went fast. We made it the Dickson’s with just a few minutes to spare (totlat travel time 1:53).

Dickson is from the Luhah tribe so I got to interview him for my paper and add an additional tribal perspective. We had a great visit and interview. He invited me back next week and I will go with him on Thursday and go see the work in Nairobi. I will also meet the Buckner interns who arrive on Wed.

Back at Flora

I started both of the books that I have for the weekend. The first is about Prestor Johns (Mythical King of the Christian Kingdom behind the Muslims that drove much of the explorations of the 1300-1400’s). It is not a very good book so I struggled through three chapters before falling asleep.

I got up and showered as several of us from the class had decided to go to the Carnivore restaurant for dinner.
I got dressed and went to the road to wait. After a 20 minute wait I called the driver and they had decided not to go after all and thought I had been contacted. Kinda felt like getting dressed for the prom, but not getting picked-up.

I barely got to eat at Flora and then returned to my room.

Country of My Skull

I began reading a book about S. Africa, the end of Apartied, and the Truth and Reconciliation Committee. Another in a series of seriously depressing books about the brokenness of humanity. I kept asking myself how. How can we look at other human beings and see nothing but animals? How even if animals, could we act in such inhuman ways? At 10:30 PM I put the book aside and watched a movie on the laptop.

Day 23

2008-06-14T04:59:00.000-07:00

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Flora

I shared breakfast with two new people to Flora, both from different parts of Kenya. They have come for business. One was an Anglican priest, the other a Catholic priest. We had a great conversation. It always comes to Obama. His nomination has done something very powerful here in Africa. It has given so many people a new understanding of America, given people hope, and lots of joy. The newspapers have many articles about him.

Class

Today Dr. Katola talked about the ideas about God in African Religion. The critical moment came for me as he talked about the names of God. We have people from 8 different countries in the room, and then at least 5 different tribes of the people who are from Kenya. He went around the room and asked people what they called God. He wrote this long list on the board.

In an area where there are 42 different languages spoken in the same country we have a communication problem that African’s just don’t get. We (westerners) have told them or God is different than their God. They say, “Yes, you call God something different than we do, just like the Luo, the Kikuyu, the Massii everyone has a word in their language for God, but we are all talking about the same thing.” In a massively multi-lingual world, the fact that people switch frequently between languages and words that refer to the same thing, means that for us to teach anything distinctive is going to first have to be filtered through the this cultural idea.

African Question: “Why should I try to get someone to use my word for God when we are all talking about the same thing?”

It is a totally foreign concept to them to convert others. Both Muslims and Christians have faced this idea. What we have mostly done is condemn their God (definitely monotheists) and told them that their God is false, but then they read the Bible and get to Romans that says that God has made himself known in the world. Africans say, “Yes, that is what we believe.”

I really am going to have to think on these things. This feels like a huge issue for the reality of evangelism.

Yaya

I made my daily journey to the Internet. Read lots of email responded and posted by blog. Then I went to the travel agent and tried to purchase some air tickets that we will be using later, but after a while they finally decided they could not help. They could find the reservation, but they said I would have to deal with the airlines directly at the airport. They told me not to worry and that the reservations are firm. I still want to get them purchased, as they are the only ones that are not yet paid in full.

Imperial Reckoning

Caroline Elkins won the Pulitzer Prize for this book. The newspaper had printed excerpts from the book and it intruded me. It tells the story of the Mau Mau revolt in Kenya in the 1950’s. It is a shocking tale. The British displaced the Kikuyu tribe when they took over the country. This ancient tribal land was given to the new settlers with no compensation and the tribe was driven to smaller less productive land.

Through the early 1900’s there was a growing resistance to the British rule and with India’s revolt and independence the people of Kenya moved to fight for their freedom. The British were determined not to loose Kenya and to protect the white settlers.

The British governor decided to reeducate the entire tribe. Nearly 1.2 million people were captured and imprisoned in camps for about 8 years. A series of torture camps were set up in which a person was broken from their dedication to a free Kenya. I they would not renounce this idea, they would be sent to worse and worse camps and tortured more and more until they finally broke.

Officially 11,000 people were killed in the process, but according to census data by the time it was over between 150,000 and 300,000 people were missing. The government destroyed the documents and has tried to keep the information sealed even until today. How can people come out of WWII and the Nazi camps and 10 years later be doing the same thing?

The evil, racism, violence was staggering. The clear violation of all the conventions signed at the end of WWII was explained away as a country emergency. I have talked to many people about it, but most do not want to talk about it. It is as if it never happened. There were never any “war crime” trials, never any reckoning, and no memorials.

At the end of the time when they had broken the last resistors, enough information had finally gotten out and the British realized they had to get out of Kenya. They turned the country over to the people they had been torturing.

I finished the book about midnight. It made me so sad and hard to sleep. So many of our problems come from our view of other people. Are they like me? Do they deserve what I deserve? How do we treat enemies?

Jesus is clear about this. How can we keep people locked in Guantanamo for these last 5 years without real trials, real charges, and real justice? Will people look back at us and wonder why nobody did anything? Is torture a good way to proceed even if it gets information that we want?

I keep my discomfort with our policies to myself because we seem to think it disloyal to the “War on Terror” and to our military to say anything. But as I read the accounts of what the German public said during the Nazi camps, when I read the accounts of the British officers and people who were quiet during the torturing and murder of at least 100,000 people in the name of “supporting the government” I am not convinced that this is a very valid stance. I was glad to read that the Supreme Court has said that the detainees can get access to some justice.

I don’t want the terrorist to go free, but I don’t want us to give up our values because they are evil people and I don’t think we will win the world through violence and the lack of a real judicial system.

In the book it describes the silence of the church during the killings in Kenya. The explanation was that they were trying to stay in the good graces of the British government. People actually went to the camps, saw the torture and still preached to the Mau Mau that they should convert to Christianity. The hypocrisy was so chilling.

Bugs

Mosquitoes. In Texas, I dislike mosquitoes. In Africa, they carry Malaria. I’ve met enough people who have had it to know I don’t want it. This morning when I got up there was a fat mosquito flying around inside and at the top of my mosquito net. I killed him knowing he had gotten me in the night.

I have taken my medicine, but as I’ve been reading into the night it has been a nightly battle. This evening about 11:45 PM several of them must have found their way into my room. I swatted (they are much faster here than at home) missed, jumped, lunged, chased, lost them in the ceiling, threw my newspaper at them and hit them against the wall with my book. After one such battle I realized that my neighbors might call the police and report a struggle in the room. I just can’t figure out how to kill them quietly. It all contributed to a difficult night of sleep.

Day 22

2008-06-12T05:54:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Morning Routines

Almost every day I wake up and wash clothes so that I do not get behind and there is time for things to dry. I have it down to a pattern now. I soak the clothes overnight, I wash them out, then I wash them in soap and let them soak for about 30 minutes, then I go to breakfast. When I return I rinse them 3 different times and then hang them on the laundry line to dry usually until the next day when I get back from class.

Van to Flora

We have a new driver and he does not like coming down my road, so I go out to the main road to wait. There is a small shack/shop near so I have been buying the newspaper and then standing on the roadside and reading while I am waiting.

I got into the van this morning and there were extra seats. Since I usually sit on the floor I was a bit surprised.

“Where are our friends?” I asked into the van.

One of the bible translators from the Sudan slid up to the front.

“Sam* was mugged on Monday night. He is in the hospital. Karen* stayed behind to tend to him.” (In hospital about 8:00 PM Mon – Thursday afternoon. *Name changed to protect identity, Bible translators in the Sudan)).

Sam had traveled on the same bus that I was on as we traveled to the West on Saturday morning. His research assistant lives within about 50 Km. of Maurice. They had decided to return a different way than we did. They got up early on Monday, took a shuttle to Kisii and then a different bus back to Nairobi. They got back late very near dark.

Sam did not go straight back to the place where he was staying, but instead went to the Nakumat (Grocery Store). He left the store at 7:30 PM. He was walking near the stadium and railroad tracks and remembers getting hit in the head. The next thing he remembers is stumbling around. They took his money, emptied his pockets, took his shoes. His glasses were gone. His eyes are swollen nearly shut and his teeth are chipped.

Some good Samaritans took him to the hospital. Since he did not have anything, no ID, no money, these people paid money for him to get treated.

As Mat* was telling me the van was very quiet. It was a very sobering moment.

On the first day of class they had given us a very strong orientation lecture about preventing getting mugged. Three important things were violated:

1)Be in a safe place before dark (6:30 PM at the latest).

2)Stay away from lonely places (near the stadium /rail changing yard has a bad reputation and we had been warned to stay away from that area).

3)If you have to be out late only travel by Taxi.

Class

The early lecture was on Spiritual directors and diviners in African religion. These people are the counselors and discerners in the community. They try to help put thing right.

Dr. Katola’s class was on the structure, beliefs and practices of traditional Afrinca religion. One crucial area of the lecture was the conversation of afterlife. They have no concept of Hell or Heaven. The earth is all there is. Everything focuses upon this place. Reward and punishment happens here and now. When a person dies you either participate in the world as an ancestor or a bothering spirit. Hell or eternal punishment is almost completely irrelevant to traditional African people.

After lunch we had the final class on Ethnographical research. It was on asking questions that will illicit the information that the researcher wants to get. It concluded with an interview of some length with three Africans on the concept of evil, witchcraft, and witches.

Yaya

I dropped off my computer and books and headed to the Internet. I Figure it is a two-hour round trip to fast walk their, do the Internet and then get back to Flora. Since it gets dark about 6:30 I felt like I had time to make the journey with a good bit of buffer built in.

The roads I take are very busy. I walk past the Nairobi hospital that is very nice and modern. Tons of people were coming and going, super nice cars, very nice Western hotel is next door.

As I walk west the area changes and it moves to a middle class area and then a section that seem relatively poor. People are begging on the street. Some are selling fruit. Some cook ears of corn by making a fire in the inside of a cinder block and cooking above the coals. The ditches are filled with water and trash. People relieve themselves on the side of the road.

As I walk past people I am frequently looked at an only occasionally greeted. I caught the eye of person who then smiled and said “Hello.” It was the only thing said to me in the whole 2 hour round trip. Its like in the crowded world people create a buffer of privacy around them. Even though we are all flowing down the street and sidewalk we are carful to leave appropriate space around ourselves. The city life seems lonely for lots of people.

Return to Flora

I sat down at my desk and finished all the homework due on Thursday and then printed out all the pages. I reviewed the work that needed to be done for Friday, but needed to get some information at Tangaza to finish, so by dinner (6:45) I was ready for class.

Dinner

Seating in the dinner area is always interesting, people sit together and I have developed a couple of people who are inviting and friendly to sit with. The man I sit with mostly is quiet, but friendly. He has a foot infection and they are having a difficult time getting it to heal.

A European man joined us. He is a Presbyterian pastor in Holland and was passing through Nairobi on his way to the Sudan for a three-week teaching mission. We had a very interesting conversation about his work and our work in Ethiopia.

Invisible Cure

I got back to my room and decided to begin reading a book I had gotten at Tangaza. The Invisible Cure: Africa, The West, and AIDS. I absorbed the book and finished it about 11:30PM. It is an analysis of many different plans and initiatives to help deal with AIDS, STDs, and poverty in Africa.

There have been so many attempts to help. Almost all have failed to meet any of the goals set from the West toward Africa. It is a fair, but devastating critique of Western driven relief, why it rarely works, and some thoughts of things that might work.

The central theme is related to the lowering of the AIDS infection percentage in Uganda. Uganda is in bad shape. Idi Amin devastated the country, the transition from colonialism was botched, and The AIDS virus first moved to epidemic proportions in this area. Yet, in the midst of all this, a loose coalition of people were able to help lower the infection rates dramatically. They did not use any of the ways that the West says will work. They did not distribute condoms, they did not use billboard ads, they did not use abstinence education. All of these initiatives have totally failed in Africa. (I’m just reporting the book here, not my values, nor do I know enough to say what will “work.” I have enough experience and have read enough to know that the author is telling the truth).

Uganda used a grass roots almost free system of de-stigmatizing AIDS, homecare, and a simple phrase, “No casual grazing.” AIDS flourished in Africa not because of rampant sexual immorality, multiple partners, and strange sexual ideas (this is they way Africans are often portrayed). None of these seem to have produced the epidemic. The problem is we (the West) have believed these are the reasons and therefore have targeted our efforts at people we consider in “high risk” lifestyles.

Through moralizing the disease we initially convinced people that you only got AIDS by being promiscuous. We made it the fault of the people who got the disease. The startling analysis of the disease is how contrary this is to the facts.

The studies seem to indicate that the major difference between Africa and the rest of the world is the issue of polygamy and what it means in human relationships. Africans don’t have more sexual partners than people in other areas of the world, they just have them at the same time. The statistical analysis of this information and the computer models show that this creates the “perfect” setting for the AIDS virus to grow rampantly. In the West we have a very strong one relationship at a time culture, but in Africa it is not seen as betrayal to be intimate with two or three people at a time.

These people would not consider that they are “immoral” or living a high risk lifestyle. They would be married and possibly have a mistress (since polygamy is technically illegal, but ignored). They saw the ads as targeted at people who were sleeping around, sleeping with prostitutes, or using drugs. In fact the statistics show that sleeping with two people at the same time produces the greatest risk. The wife who might be entirely faithful (the usual reality) is exposed to what ever the mistress has and the mistress often has two partners. It grows exponentially very quickly.

Day 21

2008-06-11T06:03:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Journaling

I woke up early and wrote for several hours to record the information for emails and blog. Then I worked on photographs. I had decided to go to the one place that has fast Internet service (YaYa) so I knew if I took some pictures I would be able to put them on the blog.

This is the first chance to review all the pictures that Maurice’s brother took. He actually got a couple of really good shots.

Yaya

I left at 11:15 and had to be back by 1:00 for lunch and to meet Maurice. I hustled and got to the Yaya in about 22 minutes.

The Internet was working the best since I have been here so I had a chance to send my email, post the blog, and read all of my incoming email. I left at 12:35 and made it back to Flora at 12:59. I have decided to make the hike to Yaya every day. It gives me a good workout and has fast Internet.

Maurice was waiting for me and we had lunch before we went off to meet Dickson.

Buckner-Kenya

Dickson Masombano is the country director of Buckner’s organization in Kenya. He is a Kenyan trained in the US. We met him last year on the first trip to Africa and saw the work he is doing here. I wanted to connect with him again, since I was in town.

I wanted to interview him for my paper since I knew he would have some additional reflections on the differences between the way the US works and they way things work here.

We went to the address, but could not find it. I had been there last year so we looked around the area for a while and then called Dickson.

He told me that he had missed his flight from the West of the country and would not be in the office. I was very disappointed. It meant the Maurice had come all the way from Rongi at cost and we were not able to do the interview. It meant I had to pay him for the travel because the course will not reimburse him without the completion of the interview. It was frustrating. I had thought earlier that I should reconfirm with Dickson, but had already called him 3 times to set up the appointment.

I returned to Flora a little frustrated and tired to work, but my heart was not in it.

Christmas

I’m trying to write the script for the Christmas musical, but having a hard time making the breakthrough that usually happens to make the story work well. I wrote three or full pages of material, but still have not accomplished much.

I gave up and read for a while. I’m reading “White Man’s Burden” which is analysis of effective and ineffective ways that the west has helped in Africa. Its pretty depressing.

I took a nap for about 30 minutes and then got up to get all of my school work printed and edited. I had four assignments due in the morning in addition to the rough draft of the paper. I printed the last thing right before dinner.

Brandon

There is a new white face at Flora. We ended up at the same table. Brandon is a Canadian planning to start an NGO that will focus on raiseing funds for existing programs in Africa that are working.

He was so intrigued with what we were doing, wanted to know about Buckner and especially how the fund raising was done. How much is given to administration? We had a fairly long conversation that also touched on US politics, which every person I have talked to for any length of time eventually gets to. Everyone wants to know about Obama.

Research Paper

I returned to my room and proof-read my paper, finding lots of little errors, but overall felt good about what I had learned. I corrected it and then turned to Henri Nouwen.

I needed just a few more cards to get enough for the year’s calendar so I spent about an hour re-reading a bunch of cards probably about 100 and narrowed them down to about 25 which I will use in the final sort.

Then I turned to the scripture readings that will accompany the devotion. I finally have decided to focus on the Gospel. I intend to split the four Gospels into 365 readings. I really want to spend the year with Jesus. As I began to search through this I was struggling on how to do this when I came to book on my computer by an author called Aland. He has a harmony of the Gospels (a way to read them all at the same time in chronological order). He has 368 units. I’ve already seen a way to get that to 365 so the second big task has real focus now.

I read another chapter from “White Man’s Burden” which continues to inspire, challenge, and confront me about my assumptions on how to help in Africa. I fell asleep thinking about these things.

Day 20

2008-06-10T01:45:00.003-07:00

Monday, June 9, 2008.

Thankfully the morning comes and I get up at 5:00 AM. I’m ready at 5:20 AM with my bag packed so I watch the Geko on the wall try to track down a moth attracted to the light that is now working. He never succeeds.

To the Bus

After 10 minutes I go to the courtyard to wait. We leave right at 5:45 AM and head into the dark. We retrace our steps back to the bus area. Maurice’s’ wife gets on a bus headed the opposite direction and it gone almost instantly the bus swallowed by the night.

We go on further and then find one of the super buses waiting. We hop aboard and get a set on the two-side with a window that we can control. Because this is Monday, and not as many people are going this route the bus only cost 400 Ks ($6.60). I still can’t figure out how they can charge so little. We are going to drive for about 7 hours on this bus and go hundreds of miles. Even if there are 70 people I don’t understand the economics.

The Bus Ride to Nairobi

The return journey is similar to the outbound. It starts with a brilliant sunrise with rays of light piercing the clouds and spotlighting the area below. The hills are green and the roofs of huts stretch in every direction.

We are stopped frequently by spike strips and police searches.

Joseph

I’m left alone in my thoughts. I keep thinking of Maurice’s baby, Joseph. I’m the first white person he has ever seen. At first, he is terrified by me. He keeps an eye on me where ever I go. I try hard to engage him. If I get near he claws to get away from me. I ‘m quiet, I try to talk softly. I whistle. I sing a song to him.

Nothing. I try everything I know how to do, but he can’t get past the way I look.

I keep thinking about this until it dawns on me that he is just like me on the inside. I have no reason to fear any of the people I meet on the streets, but I can feel the twinge all the time that I am worried about what others might do. It is irrational to judge people by outward appearance, but we do it all the time.

Nairobi

We arrive back in Nairobi at 1:00 PM and I hustle off in a Mattatu to Flora and make it in time for lunch at 1:25 PM. Then I go to the room and take a shower and wash my clothes.

I type up the interview notes and work hard on my paper and finish it by 6:45 and dinner. I come back and work on it reviewing and editing until I can’t think of what else to fix. Then, I begin to type my journal entries. I head to bed about 10:45 PM.

Day 19

2008-06-10T01:45:00.001-07:00

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Morning in the African Wilderness

It rained briefly during the night. I remember waking up to the sound on the tin roof. It sounded like an attack. I rolled back over and went to sleep. The next thing I remember is opening my eyes and being able to see. Light was seeping into the hut. Holes in the tin roof looked like flash bulbs on cameras. I rolled rover got out of bed and the day started.

I did not see anyone around so I took my camera and went for a walk. I found some birds building a nest at the edge of a field of corn. I waited and got a couple of pictures.

Maurice’s brother came by the road and saw me. He wanted me to take a picture of him. Then I showed it to him on the digital screen. He was thrilled. He took a picture of me. Then he made claim to the camera. I did not see it again until it was time to leave four hours later.

Breakfast

Bread and tea is the way to do breakfast in Africa. They had a thermos of tea and milk and mugs. The milk is real, its from goats, and gives the tea an interesting “wang.” I’m sure it was not homogenized. I just keep praying the missionary prayer,

“Lord, I I’ll get this down, If you will keep it down, and get it through me, just not too fast.”

Maurice’s Home

We go up the hill to the family house. We sit under a beautiful tree in the front yard. Some of the children are gathered in the area. Maurice is not around to translate so I’m on my own a bit. I got one of the boys who looked to be about in 4^th grade to come sit buy me.

I drew a tick/tac/toe board in the dirt. Then using rocks and leaves I begin teaching him how to play the game. Eventually, he begins to get it. An older teenager is watching. After the younger boy looses interest he wants to play. He gets the basic idea, but doesn’t realize you can always play to a tie. We play for a long time. I win 5 times, he wins five times and we call the game a tie.

I slowly start getting the picture of who lives here. Maurice has 7 children. One of the boys lives with the grandparents and goes to a local school. They also have taken in three children that were orphaned at the death of Maurice’s younger brother and the brother’s wife. I’m not told, but I would assume from AIDS. They were not married, there seems to be reluctance to talk about the situation. Then there is another boy who is an orphan from and great aunts family that was brought to look after the animals.

One of the youngest orphans is obviously malnourished. He also has an eye infection that they are treating, but he has been going to the Dr. for several months and he is still suffering. Maurice says that it is much better. The mother who died last year did not take him to the Dr. because she believed that the cause of the trouble was a curse that had been put on him. When she died Maurice paid to have him seen by the Dr. It has been going on for almost 18 months.

Africa will break your heart

There is no way to deal with all the things a person sees in the desperation of poverty. There are images that I cannot wash away. People washing in streams that are obviously polluted. People begging from those that don’t have anything. People wasting away.

People laughing, people greeting each other, kids pushing a round metal wheel down a path with a stick, tag, singing. Animals being tended to, crops being weeded.

I vacillate between tears and smiles; between feeling totally overwhelmed by inadequacy and experiencing the simplest pleasures of life. How can we have so much and they have so little? How does this balance work in life? What can be done to even the playing field? Would I be willing to make the sacrifices to at least address the inequity in my own life?

I have no answers just the pain of living in the midst of suffering and wondering what I am supposed to do about it.

Maurice’s Father

Maurice’s dad is an elder of the Luo tribe. He sits on the “Baraza” or Elder council, that meets twice a week in the area. I interview him about that process and cases that he has seen that relate to my research paper. We have a long conversation. It is a trade back and forth. He answers a question and then asks me a question.

What is our land like? How much land do we own? What is grown on our land? (How do I tell him I grow grass for show and cut it down with nothing to harvest? How do I tell him that I irrigate this crop with clean water while they have to struggle to collect rain water or travel a great distance to the nearest well?). How do get married? What are the customs? How come we do not give Bridewealth? Why do I only have two children? The one with long hair is a boy? (I show them a picture of our family when Lance’s hair when it was at its longest). They cut the hair off and give it to others? (The whole idea of chemotherapy is lost on people who do not have a doctor and have never been to the doctor).

Time to Go

Maurice told me that we need to leave by noon to get to Homa Bay before dark. He tells me he does not like getting there after dark. I’m ready at noon.

At about 12:30 lunch is served. We had meat, and rice and the best tortillas I might have ever eaten. That last until about 1:15 PM when Marucie tries to hurry things along. We start out walking at about 1:35 PM. He says it is always like this when they are together as a family.

To the Next Village

We have to get to the cross roads to get a Mattatu going to Homa Bay. Maurice and I start walking. His wife, baby and daughter are somewhere behind us. I keep looking back to find them. The daughter starts out about 500 yards behind us. I still can’t see the wife and baby. Then I see a bicycle. One of the boys is pedaling and Maurice’s wife and baby are on the back. He explains to me that they will go on ahead while we walk. When they get to the cross roads the bike will turn back and come get the daughter while we keep walking. Eventually the bike will get back to us and take our bags so we can hurry faster.

On the way I solve the cell phone question. About 20 minutes from Maurices house there is a hut. It is about three feet by three feet. It has a set of batteries and adaptors and they charge cell phones and sell minutes. There is no such thing as billing, it is all pay before you use.

I now put it into high gear. I really enjoy walking and Kili is on my mind so I take the opportunity to push hard. Maurice tells me it usually takes about an hour and thirty minutes for him to walk to the cross roads. We get there in an hour and five minutes. We are hot and tired, but it felt great. Especially after sitting in the bus the day before.

Mattatu to ? Bay

After then minutes a Mattatu van shows up. I am thrilled. I figure we will get seats and have a better ride than in the civic. Not so fast there, Alverez.

People pour out on to the street to get in the van. Lots of jostling, lots of pushing. Eventually, the five us are in the van along with 9 others, bringing the total to 14. It is packed. Then we start the drive to a place where we will have to get another Mattatu to the place we are actually going to spend the night.

There is a saying in Kenya, “There is always room for one more.” We stop along the way and pick up more people. We drop people off. For over an hour we travel this way. I am so glad to get out of the van.

? Bay to Homa Bay

We arrive in another boom town right on the edge of Lake Victoria. We see fish, boats, and even worse poverty. We hike about five blocks to the edge of town to the area where the Mattatus gather to collect people for Homa Bay.

We get in a van and essentially fill it up. Then there is lots more jostling. Before we leave the area there are 18 people on this Nissan van built for 12. There is also a bunch of fish under the back seat. I am moved a couple of times because I am too big and make it hard for people to get in and out. Finally, we set out. Every inch of the van has a person in it. People are standing and leaning over others.

The smell is still in my nose. I try breathing through my mouth. I just want to keep from gagging. Then we start stopping and adding people. What I realize is that if you stack people two deep you can get a ton more people in the van. We eventually have 24 people in the van.

Someone in the seat in front of me vomits. The van never even slows down. There is struggle as people try to deal with this reality. Somehow it gets taken care of, I can’t move because all of our luggage is piled under my legs and in my lap. The window next to me does not open. Then a person gets on the bus who smells worse than anyone I have ever smelt before. He sits right in front of me so that the air coming in the window passes over him before it gets to me.

I just keep trying to be somewhere else in my head. I try to slow my breathing down so I can take less breaths per minute. I try to figure out how to tell my noise to ignore the smells. I try to ignore the sweat running down my legs from being pressed against the other people. After two hours we arrive in Homa Bay just as it is getting dark.

Homa Bay

We head towards the motel, but then stop at a car. The daughter gets in, she is going to go all the way to where she lives with the mother tonight. I ask why the do not travel together. Maurice tells me that at the other end there is only one bicycle to pick them up and take them to the school where they live. So one has to go now and one in the morning. We wave a quick goodbye and she is gone.

Of the three towns Magori, ? Bay, and Homa Bay, this is the worst. It seems forgotten. There are bars down the main street. There seems even less to do and I understand why Maurice does not what to arrive here after dark.

We head down less and less crowded streets and find the Quiet Rest Motel. He say that he wants me to look at the rooms and decided if I can stay there. The room is simple, a bed, a night stand a chair, a mosquitoes net, a long drop toilet in the corner, a plastic tub and a five gallon container of water. All for $8.30 a night.

We drop our bags and go run a couple of errands. We go and see the Lake. It is filthy. He tells me it is being polluted all around the area. We see the fish processing plant. We see the racks of drying fish bones and heads that they sell to the locals after the fillets are taken to Nairobi.

We go to the market to buy fish that Maurice and his wife will take with them to eat for the week. One of the people in the market approaches me, “Can’t you help us here in our suffering?” I don’t have an answer.

Right after that the strangest thing happens. Its as if the whole place starts to glow orange. The sunset is hitting the clouds in just the right way and the whole area is bathed in a soft warm glow. It brings a sense of peace to the whole area. The merchants all begin to pack up their things. Within minutes the place is dark and most people are gone.

When we get back to the motel, we eat the pineapple we bought. We are thinking about dinner, but did not find anyplace open. Maurice says they are going to go and try to find some food for the baby. I decided to skip this process and sit in the courtyard and unwind from the day. I know it will be their last night together for at least another month.

After about 10 minutes, he comes back to get me. They have found a place to eat right across the street in another motel. For 150 ks (Kenya Shillings about $2.50) I get a piece of chicken and hominy paste. About half way through the meal the power goes out all over the city. We finish by candle light and cell phones.

Night

I take a sponge bath and try to wash away some of the day, but nothing seems to clear my head. I lay down to sleep again the place is amazingly dark. I really treasure the misquote net as I can hear them all through the night trying to find a way to my warm body.

I don’t sleep well. Maurice has told me it is imperative that we leave the hotel at 5:45 AM in order to get the bus to Nairobi. I set my phone alarm and my watch, but keep jumping awake and checking the clock.

Day 18

2008-06-10T01:44:00.000-07:00

Saturday, June 7, 2008

5:15 AM: Shower, and recheck bag. Straighten room. Lock valuables away, double check everything.

6:00 AM Leave to meet Maurice. I had told Maurice that I would walk to the place to meet him, but he was very concerned and advised against walking at that hour. He said I should take a Mattatu. I was surprised because this was the first time he had been at all reluctant, but he told me people might be interested in my bag and I would be safer on the van. I took his advice.

I picked up the 111 going into town thinking it would go to the train station, but I don’t have the kinks of the system worked out. Instead it dropped me on the North side of town and the bus depot is on the south side. I ended up walking only about half the distance I would have walked, but through waiting for the bus ended up at the same time if I had walked originally.

6:30 AM Panic. I went to the place where I thought Maurice told me to meet and I was 1 minute early. He was not there. I got out my phone, when he came running up to me. He said we had to hurry that he had tickets for the bus we were supposed to take, but that it might leave early. We started running. It was several blocks away through crowded streets in the dark. Not my favorite moment.

We got to the bus at 6:42. It was there, his stuff still in the seat, but there were only a few seats left.

The Bus

This is the biggest bus I’ve ever seen (strike that, from the outside it is the same sizes as a bus in the US, it just seats more). There were 70 seats on this bus--Two on one side, three on the other. Think tiny seats squeezed tightly together.

It did have TV monitors. They were showing traditional African dances to contemporary African singers. We saw the same tape over and over again. I thought at one point I might really go crazy. I was on the window side with Maurice next to me. There was stuff beneath his feet, so he could not get out, there was stuff in the aisle, so even he could get out you could not stand in the aisle, if the aisle had been clear there was no restroom at the back, so there was no where to go. If you even have mild claustrophobia this is not the bus for you.

The ticket cost 800 shillings. Which works out to about $13.35.

The Bus Journey

First Hour (7-8 AM). The first hour is spent driving through Nairobi and heading toward the Rift Valley. A city of 3 million goes on for a long time. There are beautiful buildings. They could stand proudly in any city in the world. There are tragic areas of poverty the likes I have only seen here in Africa. There is the multitude of people swarming through the streets. People everywhere on foot trying to get somewhere.

Right before the bus left pedlers came to the bus windows selling cokes, water, snakcs, and fruit. I bought a newspaper. Once we were on the road and there was not much to see, I started to scan the paper. The headline story caught my attention. Downtown Nairobi had been the shut down by riots on Friday because of a police shooting on Thursday. The road I would have walked down was the site of conflict and demonstrations that had to be broken up with teargas, arrests, and violence. Cars and pedestrians had been attacked, windshields were smashed by stones and individuals it said, “who dared walk down the street” were pelted by the protestors.

On Thursday a student at the technical college in downtown had been near the school when someone called for help. He and several others chased a man down who had robbed a woman. They caught the man and a crowd gathered. The police arrived to break up the crowd. One of the officers pulled out his gun. He said was going to shoot into the air “to drive the crowd away.” He fired into the air, but the bullet struck and killed the “Good Samaritan” instantly.

I was glad I had gone on the bus and that it had taken me to the other side of town so I could approach the bus terminal away from all the trouble.

Second Hour (8-9 AM). Right at 8 we arrived at the edge of the Rift Valley. This is a tremendous tear in the earth’s crust that extends north from Africa to Israel. The road comes right to the edge of this great canyon and then plunges over the edge. As we approach the edge the huge “great plains” of Africa the Massi Marra extended to the horizon. It is an overwhelming vista. I wish that we could stop and take pictures. The road descends and curves while clinging to the side of the canyon. After about 25 minutes we are in a different world. Nariobi was selected as the train center thus solidifying its location today because it had the best temperature for the English that were running the place at the time. It his high and therefore has a more moderate temperature.

The Massi Marra is low, flat, desolate, and looks like Northern New Mexico between Clayton and Raton. It is like the same environment. The area is obviously volcanic. It is dry. Life holds on tenaciously and just barely. We begin to see some wildlife. Small groups of antelope hurry away from the bus. Several groups of zebra interrupt the browns and yellows with their brilliant black and white attire. Most of the people on the bus are sleeping. The dancing music is blaring, and I can’t find one person who even seems to be smiling with what we are seeing. I imagine it would be like watching us pass a herd of cows just north of town. We wouldn’t even notice.

I also start seeing tons of birds. We are hauling down this road and I keep seeing dazzling birds. They come in all the colors of the rainbow, but I don’t know what they are called, I don’t have a bird book with me, I don’t have binoculars, and the bus will not slow down. This is how you torture a bird watcher. I got a piece of paper and started writing all of the birds I was seeing as if they were birds I knew: Lazuli Bunting, Red-winged blackbird, yellow warbler, white headed blackbird, starling, crane, crows, magpies, sparrows, doves, kingbirds, long thin tailed birds we don’t have, multi-colored birds with no reference points, orioles, weaver birds. I was miserable.

Third hour. (9-10 AM). We stopped in the middle of the wasteland. The road had gone from tarmac to marra (dirt). They have been working on the road for 3 years. At a random old ruin we stopped. People poured off the bus. Women went right, men went left. There we no facilities just opportunity and I did not know when another might appear. The bus revved its engine and people started scrambling to get back on. It is the fastest bathroom break I have ever been on with 70 people.

Maurice told me that they used to stop at this place because it had some trinket shops and sometimes people would buy things. The shops had been owned by a tribe not native to the area. They had moved there, which is considered Massi land. The shops were destroyed in the conflict just four months ago. These ruins were fresh, but showed the extent of the violence that erupted. It was my first encounter with the trouble we had watched on the news.

Four –Five- Six –Seven.

Pray, Stretch in my seat, try not to think of fidgeting. Try to sleep. Lurch awake on the unpaved road. Stop at police checkpoints, show ticket, listen to the music, try not to listen to the music. Sweat. Crack the window get nostrils filled with dust, close the window, sweat. Drive through villages and pass Massi herdsmen with flocks of goats and cattle. Pass tea fields that go on for acres.

Slowly the land begins to change as we drive out of the rift valley and enter a new more lush world. Drive thorugh Narok, Bomet, Kisii, Magori.

Finally, get out of the bus. I hurt all over. My back and neck are tight. My nose is filled with dust, and I don’t mind my own smell any longer.

Magori

We arrive at the edge of Kenya only miles from the Tanzania border and Lake Victoria. This is not a tourist town. I am an event. I am assuming from the looks that this might only happen when Maurice brings a friend from the program each year.

People are genuinely shocked seeing me. I keeping wondering if I have something sticking to my face that I don’t know about, but finally decided that it is in fact my skin color that sets me apart. Most people are friendly and almost all say the same thing, “Hello, How are you?” They say it in the beautiful tones that English is spoken with in Great Britain. Maurice tells me they are taught some English in school and this is the standard greeting.

We get off the bus at 2:30 PM. I am thirsty and hungry. I had decided not to eat or drink anything while on the bus for fear of not being able to get to a bathroom. We headed to a place to eat. At this point no description can even come close to the reality of Magori. I do not have even a place I can compare it to. I imagine that it is like one of the boomtowns that formed during the gold rush days on the edge of civilization. There is huge amount of people and they are all in the streets. The streets are lined with shops. The shops vary between tin buildings, brick buildings, wooden buildings and plastic tarps. Some people set up shop in the alleyways. Trash covers the streets. Animals wander about without any apparent owner. People are dressed in the whole range of options. There are people dressed in business suits and people in tattered rags. It is loud, it smells. It is exciting. It is overwhelming.

The shop he chooses for us to eat in is run by people from the Sudan. Pictures of Barak Obama cover the walls. They offer us Chicken, goat or beef. I went for the fried goat. I wanted to live on the edge. It arrived shortly with a cold bottle of Coke. The meat was great. It was served with some sauce and hominy ground up into a paste and pressed together like a wheel of cheese. It is firm and doughy. The proper way to eat it is to pull off a piece roll it into a ball and dip in the sauce, our even better make it into a hollowed out olive shape and dip in into the sauce like a little bowl.

Maurice’s Daughter

Maurice tells me that he has a daughter in Magori who attends boarding school. She is in the sixth grade. I suggest that we go see her. He seems happy with that and since the bus has made good time he agrees that we might have just enough time if we hurry. We go shopping in the streets to take her some fruits and food. We get citrus, some bread, and some bananas.

It is about a ten minute walk to her school. It is a private school (all of his kids go to private schools because he says it is the only chance they have of getting an education). A school official goes and gets her out of class (they study 6.5 days a week taking off only Sunday morning), and she comes running. It’s a moment when I know we are in two different worlds. I think I would be an emotional wreck not seeing my kids for a month at a time at best.

I walked away to give them some privacy. They speak for a few minutes and then we have to get on our way if we are going to arrive at his home before dark. I walk out of that school hurting so desperately for these people. Scattered apart by poverty and need, they seem content and happy in ways that I can only imagine.

The Meat Market

We are supposed to bring home meat for supper. So we stop at the butcher. It is truly beyond comprehension. The meat is hanging on hooks. Flies fill the air and a light on the meat. The entrails sit on the front counter. I’m sure it is the most “over the top” meat market that I have ever seen. No one seems a bit concerned. I buy the meat for the meal, it is packed in newspaper, put in a plastic bag and we head off to travel the next 40 kilometers to his home.

The Car

At 3:30 PM we get into a car. I would describe it as a four-door hatchback about the size of a Honda Civic. It is made to sit 5 small people. Four people would be preferable. There are twelve people in the car by the time it pulls out of Magori. The front seats are bucket seats. The driver shares his with another person. The hatch-back area carries four men. Maurice and I both pour our shoulders out of the windows of the back seat. With a man and his mother wedged between us.

At first I am nervous about this arrangement. Then I realize that the car is so hopelessly overloaded and the roads are so bad that we barely are able to beat the people walking on the same roads. Occasionally on a particularly flat sections we get going a little faster, but mostly we crawl. We travel this way for about 2 hours. The window does not roll all of the way down so my arm keeps going to sleep, but I can’t move my shoulders so I just try to ignore the situation.

Maurice’s place

For the last 20 minutes only 7 of us are in the car. The back is filled with stuff we are transporting for someone, the four of us remain in the second seat and the driver has is own seat. The car is riding a little better and our speed has increased.

Suddenly, in the middle of the bush we stop. Maurice bails out and so do I. The car rushes away down the path. “OK, we are here.”

“Here” is a long way from anywhere. I would describe the area as looking like sections of central Texas with small rolling hills covered by mesquite trees. Civilization has yet to claim this area of the world. There is no electricity. These people live almost the same as people have lived here for hundreds of years. With one exception, cell phones. I have four bars standing in this dirt rut of a road. Lots of people have cell phones. With no electricity I wonder how they keep them charged, but get no answer to this question.

We walk off of the path between the trees and into a clearing where we find the Maurice’s house. It is a traditional African house that we have been seeing scattered through the whole region. It is made of mud walls about 5 feet tall. He tells me it has been modernized because the thatch roof has been replaced by tin sheets. It has a door, and window shutters, but no glass. The floor is hard packed and smooth. A few pieces of wooden furniture line the walls. The walls have been painted with a leaf design. It is obvious that termites are attacking the walls and building tunnels on the surface.

We walk into the home and come face to face with his wife and 18 month old baby. “These are my people,” he says. Not the introduction I am used to. Later I learn the baby’s name is Joseph. Maurice’s wife’s name is never spoken. She is always referred to as “Maurice’s wife” or “my wife.”

During my first field interview I learn that a woman once she is married is almost always referred to this way until she has children. Then she is often called “the mother of _____.” If you have multiple children you become known as the mother of the most notable child, frequently the first born, but sometimes it could be another child who has accomplished something great.

After the long journey we are both tired, but I know they have not seen each other in over a month, so I excuse my self and start walking around. I get my camera and take some pictures. Birds of every different variety surround the place. I walk around for about an hour and then come back to the house.

Interview

I have to do three hour-long interviews, that is one of the reasons we have come, so I start with Maurice’s wife. My paper is on reconciliation practices. She is from the Kisii tribe and she is the first Kisii that I have interviewed. She speaks excellent English and Maurice goes to visit his parents who live just up the hill. After this interview I go to meet Maurice’s parents and the rest of the family that has gathered for the evening.

His elder brother shows up and he is to be interview #2. We are all in Maurice’s house. They light the lantern at 7:12 PM. It is pitch black outside.

The Meal

The next two hours are straight out of the movies. I’m sitting in the middle of Africa among a group of people who are all talking in a language that sounds just like Sioux from the movie Dances with Wolves. They’re about 10 people most of the time, but some others come and go. There are adults sitting on the wooden furniture, and children sitting on the floor. This single flame flickers and only lightens the blackness at the edges of the room. Its as if we are enveloped in one big halo of light. The yellow glow bounces off of the faces as they move forward into the light with arms sticking the air as they make their point. Facial features are accentuated. There is laughter and disagreement; there is the telling of stories and thoughtfulness. There is family love and family conflict.

During the middle of the evening another daughter arrives. She is wearing pants! I don’t know until the following day (Maurice’s wife tells me the situation) what the problem is, but I know instantly that I am in the middle of a family argument. The traditional side of the family is shocked. Even her father, who bought her the pants, says, don’t you at least have a skirt you can put on?

Every so often Maurice will translate something that is being said as they are all commenting and answering my questions. Near the end it is time to eat. Food is brought out. A big bowl is brought around and water poured on our hands. Then the hominy paste, some rice, and the meat we brought are put on the table.

We laugh and eat until everything is gone, our fingers and wrists are greasy, and it is late and we are exhausted.

I am lead to another hut across the clearing that his been set up for the boys. They have taken the only bed, a cot like frame and inch foam mattress, and set it up inside and they have hooked up a mosquito net over the whole thing for me. I know I’m being treated in an extraordinary manner and it is humbling.

I fall asleep in a hut so utterly dark that I could have been at the bottom of a cave. It was overcast so there were no stars, no moon, no lights in any direction. Just me and my breathing to keep me company. I remember that I left my flashlight sitting on the desk at Flora. I use my cell phone, but turn it off to save the battery. I woke up later and heard others coming into the hut, but I never could see them.

Day 17

2008-06-10T01:43:00.000-07:00

Friday, June 6, 2008

Cultural Knowledge: Sickness

The initial lecture today covered a peculiar twist in African Culture. The concept of sickness and the individual. According to African culture a person does not become sick for “no reason,” but all sickness is personalized. A person is sick because of direct causation either by his or her own actions or by the ill will of another.

If you get a disease, it does not matter that we in the west might say that a germ causes it, the individual gets the germ and thus the disease due to other factors. If not, they would say, how come everyone does not get the disease? If we say, “they were killed in a traffic accident,” they would say, “Yes, but not everyone died in the accident, or not everyone died who drove on that road, so why did they die, why were they hurt?”

If a person can find the cause then through medicines, breaking curses, or certain ceremonies they can be put right. Even if they taking the western medicines, it does not preclude fixing what is wrong in an African way.

This has traditionally been a sticking point with western missionaries who have insisted that the Africans rejected these notions and give up all the old healing practices. After just 16 days on the continent I don’t think I’m in any position to even give an opinion about what “ought” to be done in these situations.

Cultural Overview Class: Education

Culture is the way a person is taught to derive meaning and respond to the circumstances of life. It is learned behavior, but it is deeply programmed in the cerebral cortex.

How is African Culture taught? It has been taught through a mentoring model based in the family, with different members being responsible for different skills and ideas being taught. The emphasis was upon raising a person who could contribute to society. They were to have broad knowledge of the culture even when selecting an individual skill to master. Modern Education has not taught people how to be good Africans thus making them rootless people neither western nor African.

Posting

I was able to spend just enough time to post my email and blog (35 minutes) I’m beginning to believe as basic human right we should demand high sped Internet for the world! I type everything at Flora and take it to the computers on a jump drive. It takes forever for the Internet to load, it takes just seconds to past the information into the email, and then an eternity for it to actually send. Then the blog does its part to make yearn for a long string and tin cup, but eventually it allows me to paste in the information. Finally at the speed of seasonal change the computer relents and I am finished.

Flora

I came back to Flora and began to read, but got sleepy so I decided to pack for the weekend trip. I want to pack as light as possible, but the Boy Scout in me kept repeating “Be Prepared.” In the end I only took one thing I did not use (a pair of pants incase the primary ones got terribly soiled or torn open).

I sterilized water and filled my Camelbak (a flexible canteen for those who are not familiar). I packed my camera in hopes that there would be moments when I could take some photographs.

I reread my paper and made some notes for the final section. Then I read a book on Christianity by Marcus Borg that is very challenging and I can safely say not my vision of Christianity, but I think he does represent what it has come to mean to so many people. Now, I am in the stew trying to figure out how we counter this vision of Christianity with what I would believe is a more authentic vision, without being labeled as “narrow, bigoted, anti-intellectual, and mean.”

Day 17 - 18 - 19 20

2008-06-06T03:13:00.000-07:00

I will not be near a computer when I leave Tangaza today (Firday) until Tuesday.Therefore there will be no daily reports until I go to the computer place on Tuesday morning.

I will be traveling with Maurice to his home in Western Kenya. We leave Sat. morning at 6:00AM and he thinks we will get to his home by 2 or 3. We will spend the night there and then come part of the way back on Sunday and spend the night somewhere? Finally we will get up on Monday and come the rest of the way,but he does not expect us until 5:00 PM.

We will travel to the edge of the rift valley and then down into it. He said I should take my camera, so I hope to have some photos of teh experience.

Mind the Gap

Day 16

2008-06-06T02:57:00.000-07:00

Thursday, June 5, 2008

NOTE to E-mailers and Commenter’s: I would love to respond to everyone, but the Internet experience is so massively frustrating. It takes between 8-10 minutes to get my email to load. It takes usually 2-3 minutes to get a three sentence reply to an email to send. The keyboard I have access to at Tangaza is broken as is the one near me at Flora. I know there are misspellings and errors, but just smile a look the other way. If I get a better connection I will try to respond to everyone I can. I have decided to focus on getting the big email and the blog done each day that is possible. Only after that can I try to respond to individual emails. It is not disinterest on my part, it is just the near impossibility of the situation that keeps me from responding. So many of you have written, please do not stop. The offers of encouragement mean so much.

E.T. Phone Home
I called home to talk to Cindy and the boys. I got up early here 6:15 AM and got ready and then called home at about 6:35AM, which translates into 10:35PM on Wednesday night. I got to hear their voices and there is some real healing in that. It was not long enough, but it made this day so much better.

Tangaza
We had one less person today so everyone had a seat. I sat in the very front for the first time. Again. I saw a bunch of new things from this different perspective. I think it is a metaphor for my journey. “Sit in a new seat, you might see something new.”

Polygyny
No body needs to write and tell me it is misspelled. This is the technical term for many wives. This morning we had an interesting presentation on the nature of these multiple marriages in African society by both a man and then a woman. It is odd how this has been the focus of so much energy by Christians in Africa. The Africans point to the Old Testament and the great heroes of the faith. The Christians point to a couple of passages in the New Testament. The arguments rage. Not much is agreed upon.

African Culture: An Overview
I felt so much better in class today; I stayed awake with much less problem.
We studied death for the first half of the class (What are the traditions and celebrations around death, what are the mourning rituals, how things get back to normal) this led to teaching about evil and what causes death. The second half of class we looked at governance and the issue of elders in the community and the concept of the economy.

Debate
We had a very interesting afternoon class in which we watch scenarios from African cultures and then gathered in four groups to debate and discuss the issues. I was in group three. We debated the whether African Religion and Christianity could find common ground on the way they solve problems. It was so great. People from all over Africa and the world having an intense hour-long debate in which we discussed the differences and similarities between the two belief systems.

Library
After returning to Flora, I went straight to the local library to read. I got in my seat by 4:00PM with the book on AIDS I had been reading. I skipped some sections, but finished at about 6:00PM. The book is on the cause of AIDS. It is an exhaustive search for the beginning of the AIDS virus. It conclusions and reasoning seemed sound and better presented than anything I have seen before. It was thorough and frightening.
Its premise is that the HIV virus made the jump to humans in Central Africa in the 1950’s with experimental polio vaccine that had been prepared using chimp organs. If it is true it is one of the colossal blunders of all of medicine. If it is not true, then we dodged a bullet because we are messing with forces we barley understand. The extent of experimental medicine that went on at that time is chilling, especially when we find that “volunteers” were often people with mental retardation, military servicemen, and poor Africans.

Books
I have been struggling with some sources for my paper, but today at Tangaza I hit the jackpot. I found exactly what I needed. After dinner I read and studied and took notes. One chapter is about Ethiopia. It is the best short summary I have read to date about the worldview of the people of Ethiopia in the area we are serving. Finding this obscure article in an obscure book already makes my African Journey a success.
With the help of these books I completed section two of my paper. I can’t do the last section until after the weekend so I will edit tomorrow afternoon, reread what I have done and try to polish it some more. I talked to one person who had not yet started, and was so relieved at the progress I have already made. The rough draft is due next Wednesday so Monday and Tuesday will be tough next week. I plan on turning in the completed finished paper so that the last few days will only involve very minor revisions.

Computer
I have been struggling with my computer to run my bible study program. I have tried everything. I got Chris Stapper and Steven Patterson (thanks guys) involved in trying to solve the problem. Nothing seemed to work. On a total whim I plugged the external DVD drive into the computer and it instantly began to work. After 15 days of total frustration I was so happy, but so confused. The DVD has nothing in it, but it makes the computer work. And they told me that Apple computers made sense.

Half Way
Today marked the halfway mark of the class. I am already starting to prepare for the next phase of my journey. I have been diligently sorting through my 3000 Nouwen cards. I organized them by theme and purpose and had gotten to a major stopping point. I knew I needed 365 cards to make the year long devotional work out, so I was interested to see if I was way over or way under.
I counted the cards. When I dealt the last card in my primary pile I said 360 out loud. I have a pile of secondary cards that has 50 in it, so I must have missed 5 that will make it into the final calendar. I was really pleased.
Mind the Gap
Kyle

Day 15

2008-06-05T03:05:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Tangaza
The van picked me up without incident, except it was already full when it got to me. The four Coasta Rican priests in training have moved to a different location and are now the first pick-up instead of the last. So, all the seats were already taken when I got on the van. I sat in the floor, which meant I could only see out of the van looking up into the sky. Its amazing how any different billboards I saw.
We returned to structured class today.

Bridewealth
The first hour we spend with all three classes together in the large lecture hall. This morning we heard three people give presentations of Bridewealth. While we are more familiar with dowry’s (the wife’s family has to pay) central and east Africa practice Bridewealth.
If a man want to marry a woman he must first get permission from the woman’s family. His pledge to marry the woman is followed by the gift of animals. Even in the modern world about 10% of the gifts have to be actually cows and goats. These cows and goats are not sold, but kept by the bride’s family, bred and nurtured. They become living reminders of the woman who has gone off to join the husband’s tribe and family.
If these gifts are not given and the couple marries legally, the families still consider the children illegitimate and the property of the woman’s tribe. If she dies without the payment being complete, her family will claim her body and her children at her death, which is a huge shame event for the father’s family. It further means that the biological dad is no longer called a father.
In their societies it functionally is a system to redistribute wealth and protect children. If the man is unable to pay, he is unable to support a family, therefore he must wait to marry. Due to financial strain and poverty many couples are skipping getting married, living together, having children plunge the whole group into even greater chaos. It sounds like the U.S.

African Culture: An Overview
I could not shake being incredibly sleepy in my main class. I had to work hard to keep from falling asleep. Part of my mind and body knows that when I sit down in that class it is about 2:00AM back home. My body is well trained to be asleep at that time. I’m so thankful for the tea break when it comes. I try to down a couple of cups to try to get the caffeine working for me.
In this class session we were taught about rites of passage, naming traditions, and taboos.

Two stories stand out.
Just two days ago a Hyena attacked a home (far from here in a rural area). The animal reached into the home and grabbed a 10-year-old boy by the head and dragged him out of the house. The 12-year-old brother both heard and saw it and in an instant jumped onto the Hyena and began to beat it to let go of his brother. It turned on him and they struggled. The older boys hands and arms were broken in the fight, but he was able to drive the beast away. It has been relatively big news.
Our teacher today talked about the process of teaching boys to be courageous and why they put them through ordeals of pain. He pointed to this story saying that by the time of this boys life he has already been trained to be courageous through specific rights of courage. Circumcision is practiced here, but it does not happen in the hospital, it does not happen when they are young, but happens when they are 10 or 11 without any painkiller.
Also in the news this week was a story of a man who tried to poison his wife, but the children got to the food first. When told about their deaths his immediate response was, “What about the mother, is she still alive?”
This made the police very suspicious. The elders of his community believed he had done the poisoning, so they prepared for a ceremony that guarantees truth, the “Gucuna Kiviu” which means “red hot knife.” A knife is taken and heated until it glows red. Then the accused person must lick the knife. If they are telling the truth they will be able to do it, if they are lying they will get burned. He did not lick, but confessed.

Depression
I came back to Flora tired and feeling defeated. One of the issues I realized later in the evening is that when we get on the van the five Spanish speakers dominate the conversation and make it impossible for others to talk. They seem in their own world. It is worse in the afternoon because I am the only non-Spanish speaker on the van. The rest of the group has a different ride in the afternoon. By the time the 45 minute ride back to Flora is over I am feeling really pushed to the side.
I went to go to try to get my email sent and to see if I had any messages. The Internet was crawling. I could barely get anything to work and had to keep reloading pages. It took nearly an hour to get my one email sent and to post the three last days on the blog. By the time an hour had passed I was really discouraged and feeling really lonely.
I came back to my room and struggled with my paper for a while, but did not make any good progress. I decided to take a nap. I lay down and listen to a song and then mercifully drifted away to sleep. The alarm roused me and about 40 min later and I went to dinner.

Italians Have Invaded
A group of the loudest rudest people have arrived at Flora. The have not read the quiet banner in the courtyard and they seem intent on ignoring everyone’s feelings in the place. They treat our eating area with contempt, complain about the length of the meals, and are rude to the server. When I went in to dinner tonight they had multiplied like rabbits.
The rest of us who have been at Flora all huddled in the opposite room. In a strange way it made all of us seem closer, more like friends as we tried to figure out how to share with this strange group.
Tonight sitting here thinking about these things makes me wonder how often I am in my own world, my own language, with my own group talking about the things I am interested in while people sitting right next to me are feeling isolated, alone and hurting.
I hesitate to write these things wondering who might be reading my blog and thinking me weak or a little childish to be feeling these things, but one of the reasons I came so far to something so foreign was to strip away some of the props that I use to hold up my life, that might not be producing the results I want.
I learned from Henri Nouwen that there are some things that you cannot learn until you are silent and alone long enough to clear out the noise of life. I don’t like all that I see in me, but that is precisely the point of really looking. I’m praying that God can use the openness to make me a better human, a better form of me.

The Night Sky
Before bed I went out and looked at the stars. You know that you are in a far country when you look up and cannot recognize a single star. I know they are there, but I just can’t see them from here. I feel disoriented. I’m praying to God that he will help give me a renewed compass.
I can really feel that I know intellectually that I am valuable for who I am, but functionally I live my life valuing myself for what I do. Right here right now I can do so little. I am like a little child that has to be walked to school.
Here in the crucible of the African plains I’m re-learning a truth that revitalized my life when I first learned it. I am loved. I am loved completely. I am loved before I accomplish anything. I am loved not for my competence, or my confidence, but because God is loving.
The huge strange night sky can make me feel alone and isolated, or cherished. I am trying to lean into the belief that among all the vastness of the universe, God chooses me. God notices me. God cares for me.
"Solitude is the furnace of spiritual growth" (Henry Nouwen).
Mind the Gap,

Day 14

2008-06-04T06:38:00.000-07:00

Tuesday June 3, 2008

Return to Rongai.

Fully trained in the art of Mattatu navigation I set out to catch the 125 to Rongai. This involved the 35-minute walk to downtown and then picking a van with a good seat. I like one by the window so I can keep cool. I also like one at the front and on the side. Therefore, one has to shop for a Mattatu, but only with the peripheral vision, because as soon as they can tell you are looking their way the scramble and pressure is on, full force.

As I approached the launch site the perfect Mattatu door opened with the best possible seat. I jumped in last, thus filling the van and meaning no more stops to harangue people into the seats. We were off to the outskirts of town. Except, unlike yesterday, this was a busy workday. The streets were jammed with vehicles and it took a lot of time to get to an open road.

Eventually, we were doing good, but then came to a long line of cars. At the front was a large vehicle that was dying on a long uphill climb. That’s when it became interesting. A number of the vans immediately shifted to the shoulder on the opposite side of the street and just kept driving. This was a two-lane road, that they made a three-lane road with the middle lane going the opposite direction. We did this for a good long time until we had passed the jam and then slid back onto the open asphalt. It felt crazy, but not particularly unsafe. I think in the US there would have been police and arrests, but in Africa it seemed such a normal way to solve a problem.

The door handler tapped me on the shoulder and told me I had been good luck when I got in the van because they had a full load all the way, and that was unusual. I hopped off in the middle of town and Maurice was right behind me. He had also just gotten to Rongai from being at the University.

Rose Ndicho

Rose is a member of Maurice’s church. She is an older woman from Tanzania. She does not speak English so the whole interview had to be done by translator. Which actually was fun. It gave plenty of time to think of the next questions, to watch the facial expressions, to listen to humor and tone.

We sat in her living room. It could only be called a shack, and the only word we have to describe the area was slum. These certainly are not permanent structure built to any code, but life cobbled together out of the refuse of life.

Inside though Rose was kind and generous and very inviting. She had a warm smile and gentle manner. She played with a grandbaby while we talked until he grew tired and crawled up next to her and feel asleep. Then she trimmed the excess off a bag she was weaving. The metallic ‘slink, slink” of the worn out scissors became the accompaniment track of the movie. With the lag time in translation, this hour was so nourishing to me. No matter what the trappings I was in a home, a home of love and hard work. It felt so good. I rode happily back into Nairobi in a Mattatu decorated with the faces of famous black politicians and leaders: Kofee Anann, Barak Obama, Colin Powell, Condelesa Rice, and Nelson Mandela. The music was happy and so was I.

The Public Library

I stopped at an Internet Café, but the Internet was not working. I decided to try the public library. I have passed the building many times and it says that it has Internet access, so I gave it a try. The place was packed. I think they were giving an accounting test. I got online, but the connection was very slow and I could not get the blog to work, so I just read and sent some email.

I went back after lunch at Flora (we had ground meat pie, broccoli, fruit and a dessert cake!). I spent the rest of the afternoon doing research on my paper. I found three really good books and took a bunch of notes. Then I began to look at their AIDS materials at about 4:00. I picked up a book called The River and 2.5 hours later I had devoured a good chunk of the book and they turned the lights off and chased those of us remaining out of the library. I plan to go back.

Flora Evenings

I had dinner (mystery meat and potatoes), some tea and then worked on my research. I wrote up the notes of my interview and incorporated some new material that Rose had told me that helped round out the first section of my paper. I have finished 8 pages. I will complete the book research by Thursday night and I plan to write a 5 page section on Friday. We will travel to Nyanza on Saturday, so I will not get any more writing done until the following Monday. The last five pages are a conclusion and I will wait to write them the last week, so that I can incorporate my final interviews.

Day 13

2008-06-04T06:36:00.000-07:00

Monday, June 2, 2008

Maurice Ogalla

Maurice, my field assistant, is coming to Flora to show me how to get to the suburb where he has a small room. I feel bad because he has to leave home, come all the way into town, get me, then turn around and go all the way back.

Since being at Flora I have mostly gone West during my explorations. I have not gone downtown. To get the bus we take leaves from the train station that is downtown and to my east.

Maurice is married and has five children. He trained for the priesthood, but did not complete that process. He left school, but eventually returned and completed a degree and a master’s degree at the Catholic University. He teaches adjunct classes at the University and is praying that eventually he might be hired there full-time.

His wife teaches school and lives at the school where she teaches. The youngest child is in 5^th grade and stays with the Mother. The other children are older and I’m uncertain where they stay. He is able to see them once a month when he goes home.

We will make the journey this weekend. We will leave early on Saturday and travel West toward Lake Victoria. I will be interviewing people from the area. Then we will spend about half of Sunday meeting people. Then we will leave and head part of the way back and spend the night. We will get up Monday and finish the journey back to Nairobi.

Sovereignty Day

It is not quit Independence Day, but a big holiday here in Kenya. The date was actually Sunday, but like in America they celebrate by closing all the offices on Monday. The streets were very quiet. There were celebrations I saw on the news in the stadiums and a few people got arrested for protesting the high prices of food and petrol.

New route

With my map in hand I have a much better idea of where I am going. I had drawn an internal map that was all wrong because to get to Tangaza we actually go too far and then turn around and start coming back toward town. As soon as I saw it on the map I understood. This new bus route goes almost due west out of downtown and skirts the edge of the national park.

Ongata Rongai

Maurice lives in an area just outside of Nairobi. He has a small two room apartment and I mean two rooms, no bathroom, no kitchen, just an outerroom that is 7’ by 8’ and an inner room of about the same dimensions.

I’m the only non-African face I see. We arrived and then waited for our interview. At the appointed hour we went over to an outdoor dinner (every image you have right now is wrong, it is a tin roof attached to the side of a building with a grassy lawn area, like a café in a field). Henry Onunga is an elderly Lou man. He was very knowledgeable and happy to talk. We talked about 1:15 minutes and then went to Maurice’s for tea.

After the interview Maurice saw me to the bus stop and I headed back to town. On the way I saw my first truly Africa sight. A baboon was walking down one edge of the road. People were on the opposite side of the road, cars were passing, and no one seemed to notice.

Unlikely meeting

The bus let us off at the train station in downtown Nairobi. It just happens to be on the opposite corner from the former American Embassy. Destroyed nearly ten years (August 7^th, 1998), the place is now a memorial park for peace. When I had been here last year they drove us past the place, but I wanted to look the place over.

They show a movie at 3:00PM each day about what happened so I decided to buy a coke and eat my lunch (a protein bar I had brought) in the memorial park. It has nice benches, cost about a dollar to get in and has quotes from famous people about peace. There is a black granite wall with the names of the people who were killed in the blast. Almost all were Africans.

I was sitting under a tree drinking my coke when two white guys came into the park. I watched them for a little while wondering where they were from and what they were doing. As they got closer one of them was wearing a shirt that said, “North Village: Baylor University.”

As they got very near me I said, “So, are you really from Baylor?”

They stopped and smiled, “Yes.”

I spent the next hour waiting for the film with Nick Deere a Junior at Baylor studying international development and math. He is from Houston, but his parents like in The Hague working for some multi-national company. Ben Carroll is finishing Baylor and is a religion major. He is from FBC Longview and knows all my friends there. His dad was to be on the Ethiopia trip that goes two weeks before our trip. Both were on a Baylor trip to Rwanda and then came to Kenya.

In Rwanda they stayed at “the hotel” there and met people from the area. They mostly were introduced to the country and to peacemaking and reconciliation. During the process they met Brian McLaren ( a semi-famous Christian author) who was leading a conference they attended.

Ben was an intern here with City Harvest Church, connected to McLaren, and came to help with the children for a week. Nick will be staying for longer and will be mostly by himself. I am going to try to call him a couple of times to encourage him after Ben leaves next Monday.

We watched the movie, and learned a lot that I did not know about the bombing and its aftermath.

Flora

I headed back to Flora (about a 35 minute walk). And started to study. I wrote the notes from my interview, wrote on the research paper, reviewed my Henri Nouwen cards, cleaned my desk, brainstormed the Christmas musical script (that did not go well, say an extra prayer), and read until about 11:00PM. I stopped for dinner that was the best yet-pan fried potatoes, mystery meat, and carrots.

The internet places were closed for the holidays, so I could not communicate that way, but I did get a new phone number, Nicks, so I felt a little more connected by the time the day was over.

Sunday, June 2, 2008

2008-06-04T06:28:00.000-07:00

Sunday, June 2, 2008

Breakfast is served an hour later on Sundays (8:00), but by the time I got their (8:04) the oatmeal they had prepared was already gone. So I had a cup of tea and a piece of bread with jam. Which was fine because I need to to leave quickly to get to church and I was planning to stop at an ATM on the way to get some money since I was down to just pocket coins.
The ATM thought differently and did not want to take my card. This put me in a little bit of tension since I was to meet Katie Leatherwood and her group for lunch. I figured it would be a problem to solve after church.

Nairobi Baptist Church
NBC is celebrating its 50th year of ministry. They have a huge facility, the largest in the city. The sanctuary is the top two floors of a five story building. It has lots of clear open glass at the tops of the trees, If feels a bit like you are floating. The steps would be killer in the US.
Which made me look around and notice that I have not seen many elderly people and almost no one who looks like they have any mobility impairment. I’ve not seen wheelchairs, or canes. I don’t know if people are too tough here to get sick, don’t come out when they have trouble, or they live in a different part of the city.
The church service could have been lifted up and placed in the US except for the three songs sung in African (Swahili I think). The rest of the songs were in English and I knew half of them. The preacher works for the Navigators and began a series on the Great Commission. He spoke with passion about the desire to reach Nairobi for Christ.
Even though the vast majority of people claim to be Christian, only about 16% of believers attend worship on a Sunday. (The roads were very quiet on the way to church, it was easy to see that most people do not work on Sundays).
I went to the 8:30 service that started a few minutes early, but people trickled in for about 20 minutes. By the time the service was over there were probably 300 people in attendance.

YaYa
The name of the shopping mall is the YaYa Center. Katie said her group was going there after eating lunch at an Ethiopian restaurant and invited me to eat lunch with them.
I headed that direction, stopping at another ATM, which was out of service, finally reaching the mall about 30 minutes later. I was early so I tried another ATM (success). Then I bought a cup of coffee at a Starbucks imitator, bought a map at the bookstore, and used the internet café to post my latest information.
Katie called and with map in hand I headed to the restaurant, which was just about another 10 minute walk.

Ethiopian Restaurant.
I love the people of Ethiopia, I feel we are so specially called to serve there. I don’t like Ethiopian food. I really could not believe that this group had picked eating at this place, it tells you how much I was looking forward to seeing a familiar face that I agreed to meet them.
The food was better than in Ethiopia, I think it must be like Tex-Mex, they prepare it in a different way. The bread was not as rancid.
I got to meet the team that Katie is working with. It’s a delightful group of mostly college students working with artificial limbs. They construct them, fit them (an adult on the team), do rehabilitation (a PT from Tyler), and then test the effectiveness of the limb (Katie’s job). They had come to town (an hours drive) for some shopping and R & R.

YaYa
We had a good talk and then headed to the Mall. In the parking lot on Sundays it is filled with people selling the trinkets and souvenirs sold all over Kenya: masks, shields, spears, beads, bowls, cloth, figures, wall hangings, necklaces, chess sets, and toys. Not an easy place to walk through and not buy anything, but my bags were packed to the final ounce and I have no room for even the smallest item, so I was not even tempted.
We walked around the mall marveling at the stuff. I looked at a shirt in Woolworths. It cost over $80.00. I couldn’t believe it. I’m not sure if it is a weak dollar or inflated prices, but we didn’t buy anything.
They stayed an hour and then we went our separate ways. Katie seemed to be having a great time.

Dickson
Dickson Masambano is the country director for Buckner Kenya. I meet him last year in Kenya, ate lunch with him in Dallas six weeks ago, and have been trying to connect with him since I got here. I finally was able to reach him right as Katie was leaving.
I got directions to his office. As he was telling them to me he gave me a landmark that I recognized from having studied the map while drinking my coffee. His office is only about a 2 minute walk from the YaYa center. I will get to see him this week.

Flora
I returned to my room and started in on homework. I began the research paper. The outline is due Wednesday and I got that completed. I then took research notes from the books I had checked out of the library. I finished the next two week’s assignments in the additional ethnography class we take each week. I headed to bed a little after ten.

2008-06-01T01:33:00.000-07:00

Day 11 - Saturday, May 31

Lazy Day

I watched the Ghost and the Darkness last night. It is about two actual lions that terrorized a group building a train bridge in Africa in the late 1800’s. I have seen the actual lions (in the Field Museum, Chicago). I went to sleep after midnight, so I decided to skip breakfast and slept until about 8:00. I finally got up and showered about 9:00 and started studying.

Each class session we have a lengthy assignment that covers an analysis of one of our cultural traditions and then we compare that to an African cultural tradition. For instance: Bridewealth. A sample question, “Describe the process of spouse selection and marriage in your country. How is Bridewealth determined and paid?” or “Is your inheritance system patrilineal or matrilineal? What effect does the inheritance system have on marital relationships?

They usually take between 1 to2 hours so I decided to work through all of them today, so I will not have this daily burden. It is now 9:00 PM and I finished the last one. I was not able to complete them all but I am 95% finished. I will need to get to some books and have some conversations to fill in the small gaps I have with the resources I have at my room.

Mall

Lunch is at 1:00PM and I was feeling a little blue and was not ready to go back and study so I decided to go to the store to buy cloth pins for hanging my laundry. The man on the Fulbright scholarship (see three days ago) has his family with him. I asked his wife how she kept herself busy all day and she told me that sometimes they go to the mall. I chuckled, but she said, “No really, its amazing.” She drew me a map, so I decided to check it out.

I knew I needed to exercise so I set out toward the Nairobi Baptist Church to find out how long it would take to walk there and what time services will be held. It takes about 10 minutes and the service I am going to attend starts at 8:30AM. I then set out to find the mall.

I walked for 30 minutes and it did not look promising, but she was so certain that I decided to walk just ten more minutes before turning around and heading back. Right before the turn around point I came to it.

I came to the bottom floor. It could have been in North Dallas: polished marble floors and walls, immaculate decorations and air-conditioning. It is a three-story mall that has clothing stores, very nice. It had a fantastic coffee shop. There was an camping store that had top of the line hiking and climbing gear. It had a great grocery story (I got my cloths pins). It had the best Internet Café that I have yet found.

I was blown away. I got a Diet Coke a box of cookies and headed back to Flora. All in all it took about 3 hours out of my day.

Check out the mall's website http://www.yaya-centre.co.ke/about.asp

Father Goesh Abraha

I had dinner with my new Ethiopian friend. We had such a great time. I talked to him about what I was learning in class and asked him about his work. He lives on the far northern border between Kenya and Ethiopia. His is working with a Catholic Dr./Monk from Ireland who has worked in the area for over 40 years.

Goesh is trying to plant a church in Ethiopia just across from Kenya. He has raised $3000 dollars and needs $3000 more. I want our Catholic friends in Athens to start thinking about helping partner with him to reach Ethiopia. This would be an amazing connection. Wouldn’t it be fun to do this together, us working in one area them in another, but all of us traveling together for the sake of the Gospel.

This guy sounds like one of us. He is so concerned with people hearing the Gospel, being told about Jesus. He said, “I am going into the darkness to let my light shine.” He talked about the need for evangelism. He said the people of this area had never heard the name of Jesus. I was so encouraged. I couldn’t help but believe that one of the reasons I was here was to meet this man and to connect him to some of my other friends who can catch the dream and believe in what he is doing. I’m planning to pitch it to some of the Athens people I know connected to the Catholic churches in our area. (If you read this and you know people that might be interested, just forward it to them).

Katie Leatherwood

I heard from Katie tonight (Katie is a student at college and serving this summer in Kenya). We are planning to meet tomorrow, from her description I think we are going to meet at the mall that I found today. Odd? She said they are going to eat Ethiopian. I distinctly remember seeing one on the way to the mall. It will be great to see a familiar face.

Mind the Gap

Friday, May 30, 2008

2008-05-31T04:35:00.000-07:00

Friday, May 30, 2008

Laundry

I hurried off to find the Internet yesterday because I could not get it to work at Tangaza. In is about a 15-minute walk to a hotel. About 2 minutes before I got to the hotel it started to rain. I knew I could not make it back to Flora in time to get the clothes off of the clothes line, so I went ahead and sent my email.

When I got back all the clothes were wet. I left them dripping outside. At least the sky had cleared. This morning when I got up, the clothes were all still very damp. I prayed for sunshine. When I got back, almost all of the clothes were dry. Only my blue jeans and wool hiking socks are still outside. I felt an odd sense of accomplishment. They look basically clean, they smell alright, there are no obvious marks on them. I might be able to make this work.

Homework

I worked steadily after getting back to Flora until 6:30PM when I took a 10 minute nap. I got up and went to dinner. I end up sitting with two women who spoke no English. I thought I would finish and then join one of the other tables, but while drinking my second cup of tea I spilled it completely down my shirt and pants. I tried to make a dignified exit, but that is hard for me under normal circumstances.

I came back to the room and typed, read, worked on my research paper, wrote interview questions until about 12:30 AM.

Each night we have a process sheet that takes over an hour, but they are very interesting.

Three-legged stool

Today the early lecture was on Adulthood and Elderhood in African culture. One of the interesting stories was told by a woman about the way children are raised to respect the traditions of the community. In her tribe there is a specific three-legged stool that only elders are allowed to sit upon. If a young child sit upon the stool they will be scolded, if a child sits on such a stool they will receive strokes with cane,

if an adult who is not an elder sits on the stool they will be sent away from the community. They will be sent back to their mother’s home to be retrained and then fined for usurping the power of the community.

Britain’s Gulags

I learned about a dark chapter in Kenyan history today. The Mau Mau revolt of the late 50’ and 60’s. The British were extremely harsh in trying to put down this uprising. Eventually they held over 800,000 people in detention camps for upwards of 5 years. Lots of torture, lots of starvation, lots of evil. This is in the background of some of the land tensions that are going on even today.

Ghettos

Dr. Katola described the social changes that urbanization is bringing to African families. Based on African cultural values of hospitality, taboos of who can be under the same roof (a son-in-law cannot sleep under the same roof as his mother-in-law), and the expectations of wealth sharing have thrown families into crisis has increased the housing burden, and made it difficult for a person to make a living farming or working in the city.

We got out late so we missed prayer before lunch. Lunch was some rice and a chicken drumstick. Humble, but tasty.

Field Research

One of the features of the program is actually going to interview people about the topic of our research projects. Here is the report I will turn in next week:

Name of Field Assistant: Maurice Ogolla

Place Visited: Catholic University

Date and Time Spent: We left Tangaza at 12:50 and walked to the Catholic University. On the way we discussed my topic. We arrived at the Catholic University at 1:15 and met as went through my proposed questions for my first interview. We talked until 2:00 when my interview began. The Interview lasted 1:20 min. We then departed and walked to the Mattatu stand and I came back to Flora. I arrived here about 5:00 PM. I re-read my notes and typed them that evening.

Purpose of research: To discover the concept of reconciliation in African Culture in specific reference to the story of the Prodigal Son.

Description of experience. We had a delightful conversation with Peter Kiarie. He is a long time faculty member of the Catholic University. We met in his office. After introductions and pleasantries I introduced the topic of my inquiry and began by asking about the concept of original sin. Dr. Kiarie gave me an introduction to the creation story of the Kikuyu and its relationship to what a person is supposed to do. This served as a framework for understanding how a person would be out of step with others and therefore what requires reconciliation. We discussed the traditions of sin vomiting, the scapegoat, and purification. We also discussed the casting off ceremony in which a person is forced from the community. We talked about the punishment and cause of a person being exiled. We talked about the role of the father in making things right with a rebellious son. In particular I asked about an Elder running to greet a rebellious child. Dr. Kiarie, paused thought of this and then laughed. No, this would not happen in Kikuyu culture. The interview ended with a review of the importance of the community being one.

This sterile reporting can’t possibly contain the wealth of information I got during the interview. The things I learned were huge. I’m not sure if I am going to post them now or after I get to share them when I get home. Still thinking on these things.

Exercise

I am very concerned about staying in shape while here studying, but have not found a way to work out that is very effective. The compound is small and they have no treadmill. It is not safe for me to roam the streets at night. Also since I am frequently the only non-African I see, I keep wondering what it will look like if I start running down the street. I took the chance before dinner. I ran down the street, up to a pedestrian walkway that has steps leading over the road, and then ran back and forth across the road going up and down the stairs on either side. The air always feels polluted here, and it was worse being above the street, but I could tell that it got my heart racing. Then I walk, jogged back to the Flora. Not a perfect workout, but better than sitting all day.

Dinner

I had the most interesting dinner yet. I sat with my friend from Spain, a man from Germany who is building schools in the Sudan, and an Ethiopian Roman Catholic Priest.

Most of the food had onions so I just had potatoes and some egg dish. They brought some fruit after the meal was started and that was a first. It was peeled pineapple and OK.

The conversation was great. We talked about Spain (I had been to several places that we talked about together). We talked about Germany (he is from Munster, which in Baptist history is the center of the first massive persecution and execution of Baptists. He knew all about that, but told me he was not a threat). He told us about biking across S. America, twice. Each time he has spent 6 months and went over 11,000 km. He must be wealthy and healthy.

The Ethiopian priest was quiet until the end. I told him about our work and he got very excited. We talked for a few minutes. I started telling what I was learning. He confirmed every single thing I asked him about. It was as if I was describing the cultural situation in Ethiopia. We made an appointment for tomorrow and are going to spend more time together! I am going to interview him for my paper.

Homework.

I finished my first sort through the 3000 Henri Nouwen cards! This feels like a huge accomplishment. I am well on my way to structuring the spiritual devotional for 2009.

I wrote a paper, reviewed my interview notes, and typed this finishing about 10:30 and decided to call it quits and celebrate by watching a movie on my laptop.

Thursday, May 22 2008

2008-05-29T06:54:00.000-07:00

Thursday May 28, 2008

Clothes Washing
I hit the spot where I could foresee that drying time would necessitate that I wash cloths. I went yesterday and bought laundry detergent. Last night I soaked my clothes in a basin. After breakfast I washed them in soapy water and then rinsed them.
When I first got here I was excited to see the sign for the laundry. Upon inspection I found that it was just a room with two sinks. I wish it had a wringer. I hung my clothes up inside because it had been raining. When I got back to Flora I moved them to the outside clotheslines, but I don’t have any clothespins.
I hope by tomorrow they will be dry.

To Tangaza
Today everything worked great. Then van was late picking me up, but I called them on my phone that now works, so I was OK. I got to class and we had four sessions today.

Session One. Leadership in African Society.
This was a very interesting talk by two different Africans on the principle of leadership in African culture. The core is that leadership is earned over time, it is based upon moral standing, it is based on perceived wisdom, and the person must be seen as just. Finally, the leadership is considered a sacred duty. There are few African countries were Kings or single leaders ever ruled until the modern era. Instead, elder councils are the norm. This means that what elders say is almost always followed and the communities await the decision of the elders. This is one of the primary reasons that Democracy has not flourished here.
They don’t have the concept of individual decision-making, it is almost all group consensus. They need to know the outcome to the election before the election, so they can know who to vote for.

The Pillars of Culture
Dr. Katola continued in my main course.
Two things stuck out for me today.
One, what we think of African culture makes a tremendous difference in decided what we want to do in African culture. He outlined different mission strategies. Most have been almost a direct attack on African culture insisting that to come to Christ one must reject African culture. The resistance to the movement is very strong in Africa.
Two, family relationships are very different. When he asked to the class to define security one of the Americans said, money. The Africans said family. The Africans can’t believe what they hear about the treatment of the Elderly in our country. They would say it is in human. They wonder how they could be put I homes to be away from family.
During our prayer time we made a long chain and did a chant that was in response to a lead singer. She sang a line and we responded, “I’m going to get on that train” She lead the long chain of people around the prayer area (Christian Conga Line). The train was conducted by Jesus and headed for heaven.

Political Crisis in Kenya
Many people were concerned early in the year when Kenya was in such turmoil. I have talked some of the students about it and it has been very hard on some of them. After lunch we had a lecture “The Present Economic and Political Situation in Kenya” by Odur Ong’wen. It was a fascinating description of the conflict, the election, and the background of the crisis. Primarily it is a land dispute that stems form the Colonization period in which huge areas of land we taken from the tribal people who are now displaced. It’s a huge mess and you could tell there was a lot of energy in the room. Worst of all the politician on both sides are some of the large land owners and don’t want to share their land.
The weirdest part is that during independence (1963) Britain left, gave them the country, and loaned them the money to buy the land back from the settlers that the British government had taken from the Kenyan people. They are still paying back this loan.
In addition America got caught in the turmoil. Some think that Obama was working with one side against the other.

Interesting People
I came back to Flora on the bus and had a great talk with a sister who is working in a neighboring country doing very similar things that we are doing in Ethiopia. She has two Ph.D.s and knew Henri Nouwen.
I also met Tom. He was a professor at the Berkeley School of Music in Boston for four years, but is now working on a Bible translation team, also in a neighboring country.

Wed. May 28

2008-05-29T02:51:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, May 28, 2008.
At breakfast I met my friend from Spain (I thought eastern Europe, but was confused). His leg is already better and excited to leave here the middle of next week. I hope we will share some more meals together.
I ate fast, not because I needed to hurry, but because it just didn’t take long. Today it was bread and bologna. Well it looked like bologna, but didn’t smell as good. I had a piece of bread, jam and a cup of tea. Then I took pictures while I waited for the matatu (van) to pick me up at my front door. What a joy.
Traveling on public transport I have been advised to not carry anything that looks like it has value. They recommend wearing no jewelry, no watch, and no backpack. Keep your head down, down make too much noise, and blend in.

There is a banner in the courtyard that they must have hung knowing I was coming, “Whatever is good must be done well and quietly.” Do you know how hard it is for me to blend in?
Today, I was thrilled because I could take my camera and get some shots of the school and people. I also wanted to take some shots of the Flora Hostel and my room so that I could put them on a blog I was hoping to start.

Van to Tangaza
I packed up my camera and went to be near the gate at 7:30 AM which was 15 min. before I was told to be ready, but I didn’t want to miss the bus. At 7:45 AM I was pumped. At 8:00 AM I was concerned. Class starts at 8:30 AM and my best time to Tangaza has been 1 hour.

At 8:15 AM I abandoned my watching post, put my camera back in my room and headed for the bus. I walked on to the 111 immediately, but the traffic was worse than ever.

It took 24 minutes to the Karen. I jumped into the first Matttu I could find, but they will not leave until they get a full bus, so I walked on to campus at 9:15 AM (45 minutes late).
I was told that the driver got in trouble with the police. No one knew so we all just stood waiting and independently all of us made the decision to get to Tangaza the old way. I was the last to arrive, as I am the farthest away. I’m not sure why this is the case, but everyone else seems to be staying at some weird place that they have a connection to through their work in Africa. I constantly seem like the odd duck.
Because I was late yesterday, I missed the assignment I was supposed to bring today. I missed this morning and asked what I missed, but got little information. I bet I will find out tomorrow when I am unprepared for something else.

African Culture: An Overview
Dr Michael T. Kalola is my instructor. He has a beautiful English accent over a Swahili mother tongue. I thought at first I would not understand anything, but after about 10 minutes I got into the groove. We took notes like crazy. He is bright, funny and very helpful. They still have so much British influence that we stop mid morning for tea every day. Then we went back to class. We went steady until noon.
The class focused today on culture, what it means, and why people tend to think their culture is the best. I took five pages of tiny writing notes. My hand was tired. My brain was stretched and I’m still trying to deal with some of the implications.

Teeth
One of the weird examples he gave of culture had to do with recognizing significant biological events; in particular, the loss of first teeth. I immediately thought of our weird traditions with the tooth fairy. He asked the group if they could tells us their traditions. One group takes the teeth and the child must toss it backwards between their legs. In another group they take the first tooth and toss it toward the sun. Still another group is not interested in what happens to the tooth, but where it comes. If it is a top tooth, then they must marry a person whose first tooth also came in first in the top.
The question is which is better? Western society has often claimed that its ways are better, but in this game who has the upper hand? Can’t they all be equally valid? This then begins to apply to lots of opinions we have of Africans and African culture. I think this is going to be an area where I am going to be stretched.

Prayer
We had prayer together outside. This was so great. What a collection of more than 70 people from all over the world standing together praying. There were Christians of every stripe. I loved it. It was lead by one of the African assistants. It was so genuine and passionate. Heaven practice.
Lunch is a brief affair and modest, but not many onions so got a high score from me.

Library
We got huge amounts of reading assignments and so I went to the library to get the books. I have my new library card, something I always treasure. I got my books and headed to the computer lab.

Internet
The computers had not worked the first time, so it was so good to see them working and working as fast as at home. I read all the emails I got. That was like drinking in sunshine. This has been way harder emotionally than I ever imagined. I think they call it “culture shock.” Kind words went a long way to help right my boat. I had time to create a blog and will be able to add a few picture tomorrow.

Flora and phona
The van drove me back and promised to get me at 7:30AM. I told them I would only wait until 7:45 for a chance to actually make it to class on time. Then I went to get a SIM for my phone. It’s a long boring story of why I don’t have one, but the story of getting one here is brief and interesting. I went to the little shack next to the bus stop and bought one for what I think was $.50 that is fifty cents. Then I bought a calling card to “top it up.” I still can’t figure the money out yet, but I think I spent 5 dollars on that. I tested it and can text Cindy and make local calls. I am going to call he house late on Wed. to see how it works. (It will be 6:15 AM here and I will be getting ready for Thursday).

I took a walk of about 45 minutes. It was part work out and part mission to find soap to wash clothes. I felt like the family circus kid. Every chance I could I took steps sometimes making a circle to do them again. I think people might start calling me “Dances on Stairs.” I seem to be unique in the whole circuit around Flora. I did find soap and rewarded my self with a Coke light and some cashews.

I spent the rest of the night studying. It took me until 11:00PM to finish my homework. I had to write two papers, type the one I wrote yesterday and read multiple chapters from three different books.
I finished editing pictures and writing this about 12:00AM. It feels like graduate school for sure now.
Mind the Gap
Kyle

Tuesday May 27

2008-05-28T04:03:00.000-07:00

First day of class

Last night I felt like any kid getting ready for the first day of class. I picked out what I wanted to wear, got everything out so that I could get dressed quickly and get to breakfast at 7:00am. I was told I needed to be at the bus stop close to 7:00 so that I would have no trouble to be at class when it started at 9:00.
I felt like a pro on day two. I went to the right mess hall. I got my food and shared a table with three delightful people. They were the first “strangers” on the trip who seemed open and interested in serious dialogue. They were interested in what I was doing and I them. I ate quickly and headed to the bus stop, but not before one of them said, “See you tonight.” It was amazing how a simple gesture of friendship was so meaningful.
Bus to Tangaza
I went to the bus stop and waited. Then I waited. I waited some more. I was given instructions to take the bus labeled “24.” Many buses came and went, none with the right designation. After 1 hour I began to get suspicious. Slowly and idea came to my mind.
“What if 24 does not run by this stop?”
I began to replay the journey from the previous day with Maurice, my research tutor. We had tried to come back on a 24, but it rerouted. He said that it was due to a different company running the bus, but a normal 24 would come to this spot. I decided at that moment he was wrong. No 24 came to this spot.
I knew immediately what I needed to do. I jumped on the next 111. This bus travels up and down Ngong road. Maurice and I had ridden this bus the day before. I needed to ride it to Karen. Essentially this is a suburb of Nairobi named after Karen Blixen, made famous by the movie Out of Africa. Immediately my nervousness set in, “Would I recognize the place to get off the bus?
I started to look both directions for landmarks, for funny shop names, for anything that I might lock into my brain so that I would know where to get off the bus. Fifteen minutes later we came to Karen. I did see things I knew and I ran the buzzer to get off.
I crossed to the spot where we caught the 24 the day before. After 1 hour and 15 minutes I had seen thousands of people only four of us where white. Now I was way out of Nairobi and I was fairly obvious. Taxi drivers wanted my business; the shop sellers wanted me, the Matatu* touts kept yelling for me to get into their vans.
I patiently and simple said, “No, I am waiting on the Citi Hoppa 24.” They would try to convince me that they were faster, better, here, but I just waited. Twenty minutes went by and then a 24 bus appeared. My mind screamed, “Victory.” I got on the bus and saw one of the white faces that I had noticed waiting by the side of the road while I was on the 111 bus.
The ticket man came and I told him I wanted to buy a ticket to Tangaza. He told me this 24 would not go that far, but I could get another 24 when the bus stopped. The girl behind me chimed in, this is not going to Tangaza? Sure enough in the middle of almost no where the bus stopped, they said they needed air in the tire, and we walked to the road and waited.
Eventually a Matatu came with the 24 sign in the window. By this time it was 9:00 and we were already late. Sarah, the other girl and I, jumped on the Mattata. It was fine. Not much competition meant a safer easier ride. We arrived at Tangaza college at 9:17.
*Matatu means ‘three’ and is they way they refer to a fleet of vans that are privately owned and run throughout the city. They mimic the official bus company routes. They are small vans, but can pack in 12-14 people. It is amazing. They also compete for passengers. Which means they drive like crazy to pass each other and get to the next bus stop first, where there are frequent yelling matches as people get on and off the vans. People do this in a hurry because they barely like to slow down. I was told by Maurice to get the city bus and avoid the Matatus.

The first person I met in the class was Sarah. She is just finished with college, from Bolivia where here Swiss parents are missionaries. English is her third language. These people always make me feel like a narrow minded American.
Class had started by the time we arrived. We missed the introductions, but through the day I pieced this information together. There are 35 students in the class and 35 research assistants. The majority of the students are from Africa and all of the assistants are Africans. There is a group of 5 students from Bolivia, Sarah is in this group. There is a group of three Americans who are Bible translators in the Sudan. There are two American Catholic nuns who are stationed in Kenya.
I have met Africans from Kenya and Nigeria and have been told that other countries are represented.

Class Orientation

The class is a simple but nice place. The bright African light makes artificial lighting seem strange. A picture of Kilimanjaro hangs on the front wall. The professors were incredible. I learned so many helpful things and they have been doing this class for about 28 years, so they have developed a great structure that has been tested and seems to work well. I can immediately see why I am in this course and how it is going to help our strategy for Ethiopia.

Most Interesting of the Day

African spirituality does not have the concept of ‘the fall of man’ in it. The idea of sin breaking the world and influencing God is not a natural concept nor easily communicated. They see the world as paradise. They believe God created it, and very few Africans are polytheists.

Tour of the City

We went on a general city tour to help orient us to the major locations around town. We saw the slums, the nice areas, the workshops that churn out the crafts, but the most interesting discussion was about polygamy. One of our guides is from a polygamist family. We talked about it for near an hour. One of his critiques of Western culture is that we believe in polygamy, but are not honest enough to say it. He says that many of our leaders have affairs, keep mistresses, and that many of our people divorce and remarry and that in effect we have serial polygamy.

The new bus schedule

They decided in the day to hire a bus to collect all of us and bring us to Tangaza! They will pick me up at 7:45am and should get me to class by 8:30am. This should make life easier. The driver took us home so that he could know where to pick us up.

Evenings at Flora
My desk is filled with work. I started by doing my homework reading and assignments for class (though it is not due until next Wed.). I took a nap of about 30 minutes with my head upon my desk (a skill I learned in Seminary). I still have to type it up, but it is finished. Then I started sorting my Henri Nouwen cards.
I have over 3000 note cards that I made during my dissertation. I began sorting through each of them and began grouping them into coherent piles. They will serve as the backbone for the devotional book I am trying to put together. As I slog through them the enormity of this task gets overwhelming, but I remember lessons learned while in the doctoral program, “Sit five more minutes and work.” I kept doing that until time for dinner.

I met my friend from this morning and we had a great time. One is here because it is next to a great hospital. Today they found that his leg infection is from a drug resistant bacteria and they figured out a drug to treat him. He was so happy. I think he might be Serbian, but it is hard to tell. Then I was quizzed by several about what I was doing and why. I tried to explain it, I think they eventually understood. Then our new table partner asked, “Are you from the South?”
“Yes, Texas and You?”
“Alabama.”
“Really? And what are you doing here?”
“I am on a Fulbright Scholarship studying the history of the colonization of Kenya.”
We had a great talk about the effects of the Western mindset in feeling superior to Africans during the period of colonization in the 1800s. He is a history student. He is staying here because he contracted Hepatitis in the field and was in the hospital for 4 weeks. His wife and son are here with him. His Fulbright has been extended a year because he has lost so much time to the unrest in Kenya and this illness. He is going to stay until September 2009.

Late Night

After dinner I studied for about an hour. Exercised by walking around the compound for about 20 minutes, then returned to studying until about 10:00. I started reading the book Grand Bob (My Father-in-law) gave to me. I could not put it down. Read till late. Watched the end of a movie on the laptop and finally fell asleep. Still not tired at night.

Mind the Gap

Kyle

Day 3

2008-05-24T05:48:00.000-07:00

'Saturday Morning May 24.

I got up this morning expecting to spend the day with Buddy and Holly Young, but got thrown a curve. Buddy, who had just returned from Rio, got very sick. They were taking him to Dr./Hospital. So, I decided to audible.

Instead of going to the museum I had planned, it looked like the boys might be interested and I didn't want to do it twice, I decided to go for a hike. I had thought about it a couple of times before and had looked at some different hikes. I bought a hiking book at Paddington Station, ran back to my hotel, packed, and grabbed the Tube to Charring Cross. I was supposed to get a train to Winchelsea, but after buying the tickets the attendant told me that the station was closed today. I had to make a snap decision and decided to go to the end city of the hike and see if I could get a bus or a cab to the beginning of the hike. I bought a ticket to Hastings and got on with 4 minutes to spare. I read and re-read the description of the hike on the way down.

I especially liked this section, "In 50 metres you pass post 10 to take the leftmost fork (but not the next fork left in a further 10 metres), continuing on a wide grassy way uphill, your direction 225 degrees.". In the introduction to the book it says, "This book often gives the direction in degrees, when a change of path is encountered, so it might be worth buying a compass with a swivelling rim marked in degrees - although most novice walkers checking drafts of this book managed perfectly well without referring to either a map or a compass." I have my GPS so I am a little more confident, thought the word "most" is a little nerve wracking.

The train is now full of people. Almost all the seats are taken.

The Tube was filled with soccer hooligans-lots of yelling, lots of quick furtive looks by others in the walk ways. Since there had been trouble in Moscow this week after a lost match, I think people were a little more on edge.

I made it to Hastings. Then I figured I would get a bus to Winchelsea. This was not popular, nor expected. I got the impression that I might have been the first person to ask about this. I found the name on a bus route and asked the driver.
"Winchelsea by the sea or the town?"
I thought in my head, "I didn't know there was two."
I plaid stupid, because I was, and showed him my book. Another town was listed, Icklesham. He told me bus 100 went to Ickelsham. He told me the ticket was 2 pounds (about 4.00). I counted out my money and had 1.96. He waved me on the bus. Then we drove. It was a local bus, no other tourists on board. We drove some more. After a while I began to get concerned. Surely we had gotten to Icklesham. I tried to read road signs. None of the names appeared on the books terrible map.Then I caught sight of the word. Someone else got off. I got off the bus, the doors closed, and it sped away.l

Now you have gone and done it Kyle. Here I was standing in the middle of nowhere. I looked around. No signs, no stores, no people, the other guy who had gotten off the bus had disappeared. Even the street looked empty. I got the book out and read the description. I found two landmarks and realized I was in the exact right spot (I think). I tightened my boots, fixed my pack and headed back to Hastings which the book says was 9 miles.

I followed the first directions and got to an old church in the first ten minutes. I circled the church took some photos and then followed the directions in the book, except they made no sense. I tried different things, I started over three times. I back tracked, after 30 minutes I decided I need a new strategy. I had made no progress, The train had taken much longer than I expected it was later than I wanted it to be, I felt a little defeated, but was not even sure how to turn the process upside down and get the bus back to Hastings.

At the crest of the hill was a big windmill (Hog Mill) that Sir Paul (Beatles fame, lives in the area) paid to renovate. The book said I would be able to see it , but did not indicate I would go near it. I went straight for it. It was on a tall hill, there was a walking trail, 1066, that lead to it and even though it was headed in the wrong direction, I figured I could get my bearings and try to find a solution.

The view was beautiful. I could see the sea. I knew Hastings was on the ocean, I knew it was south of my location, so I decided to head across country to the sea and then turn down the coast to Hastings.

I put the book away and decided to trust my instincts. This was a little frightening as I have trusted them before and ended up in bad situations. I walked through beautiful farming country. They have all sorts of rules about allowing public access so I had no trouble getting through fields and over fences.

Eventually I started to see other hikers. I knew I was not on the right trail, but figured I was on a usable trail. I came to ocean and walk along its edge. I was only a few miles from Dover, so it is a place with rising cliffs, ocean spray, and soring gulls. I decided not to stop for 30 minutes and did that for about 2 hours until I made a brief stop to eat a bite. I had not seen any signs, but was sure by then that I was making good progress.

Then I found a trail leading in the general direction I wanted to go. I lead to a church. The church was open and for a donation they would allow people to go to the top of the tower. It was taller than expected and gave a great view of the sea and the towns and where I had come from. I could see my route. The book was trying to take me on the hypotenuse of a right angle, but not being able to find the trails I had gone the long way.

From the top of the tower I saw something, a radar station. I remembered reading about it in the book on the train. I got the book out again and scanned through the text until I found it. Somehow I had managed to find the trail I had intended to be on all day. I headed for the radar station and found myself in a beautiful park. I also found a park ranger. Because I despised the book by now I had put it up again and decided to go by feel and recommendation. I asked the Ranger the way to Hastings. He asked me if I had a map.
"No" I said sheepishly.
He pointed me to the headquarters and an older lady standing outside.
"She has a great map."
I went to get a map.
I asked her for directions to Hastings.
"The easy way or the hard way?"
Since I was training for Kili, I decided to take the hard way.

She tried to talk me out of it.
"It is up and down, and up and down, and up and down."

She gave me the map and pointed out the way. It was a terrible map. They had re-numbered the markers, it was vague at just the places it needed to be specific. I missed several turns, but kept making steady progress toward Hastings.

Eventually, I crested a hill and could see my destination. At the top of this last hill was a tower with a metal basket on it. It was used as a warning signal to alert the city of attack (Like the signal fires in the Lord of the Rings).

I walked into town followed my instincts and got near the train station where I got help from a friendly chap (I love the English). The train station had clean water, I had finished mine about a mile away from the city. I washed my face, gathered my things and got on the returning train where I am typing this update.

The conductor just announced that the train is shut down in front of us and we will have an hour delay and that buses are gong to be sent. Not much I can do, but wait and see.

I took my MP3 player with me, but never put it in. I started to listen for sounds.
Creaking Windmill
Wind in an orchard
A lamb calling for its mother
A swan noise, not melodious, but confronting.
Several friendly greetings
The sound of the waves against the rocks.
Children running and screaming away from the cold waves.
The sound of a baby carriages wheels being pulled through gravel.
Cars approaching cars receding.
A dog bark
Trees creaking in the wind
Twigs snapping as I walked on them
The wind whistling through the church tower.
The rhythmic thumping of my feet on the circular stairs of the church tower.
The whirling of the radar dish going round and round.
A small creek splashing out of a pipe.
My panting
My groaning
My voice, startling after several hours of solitude.
The sounds of carnival rides, children worn out, and arcade games

I didn't hear anything life altering, I just heard the world, it was beautiful.

Mind the Gap,

Kyle

Day 2

2008-05-22T05:45:00.000-07:00

As I walked through the Subway station so many things were flowing through my head. First was the fluttering in my stomach. After such long planning this adventure is upon me, but part of me, a big part is ready to turn around, get on a plane, and come home.

For so long in my life I have lived with a very defined set of certainties. For elven years I have gotten up each day as the pastor of FBC Athens. I have to go back to the Spring of 1984 to identify even a vaguely uncertain time, but even then I was married, living at home, saving to buy a house, attending Seminary and preparing for ministry.

It has been along time since I have had to flex the muscles that help in the unknown. Trying to make sense of these feelings is uncomfortable, but I believe will be beneficial. Lots gets stripped away in the process.

It helps me know how much I define myself by my tasks, by my goals, and by my relationships to people, order, and routine. Already I can see that I need to spend more time feeling loved, accepting daily grace, being transformed by the sustaining presence of God.

I"m praying that all of these raw thoughts might help me be a better me, a better communicator.

All of these ideas were crowded around the thoughts and feelings of the surroundings. There is so much diversity in the subways. Hair styles, clothes, nationalities, clothes. There are happy people, sad people, incoherent people.

A group of boys came flowing through the corridor. They each had on blue blazers, stripped ties, white shirts. The were jostling to be next the the center boy. He was a bit taller than the rest. Like of flock of sparrows they wheeled around me and the others in the hall, forming, breaking apart, and then reforming into a ball.

I kept looking for Harry Potter, but he was nowhere to be seen.

It made me nostalgic for my school mates, for easier times, for the joys of recess. In part this was also the effect of sitting and talking with one of my best friends in High School, Holly Robinson Young.

I have this vivid memory of riding with her and Mark Wade in a car and all of us being silent. We had been friends for along time and on this moment we didn't have anything left to say. Holly said, "It is great to have good friends that you don't have to say anything to each other." It was the first time I remember feeling this absolute peace in a friendship and relationship.

She met me at Paddington Station. I told her we would meet at the statue of Paddington bear. I figured everyone knew it existed. She had never seen it. We have family photos sitting next to it. I had gotten there early to make sure I didn't miss Holly and Buddy. I scanned the train station waiting for them.

Then I saw Holly. She was talking to a policeman, I could tell she was trying to find the statue. Then our eyes met. We figured it has been eight years since we have seen each other (our 20 year high school reunion). Buddy had been delayed on his trip from Rio in Brazil. Holly and I headed for a place to eat.

At first we just walked. It was so much fun to begin to find a way to let the stories of a lifetime become shared moments. How to share without dominating the conversation, or boring the other person.

I listened to her tell about her professional triumphs. About the many places they have traveled, about the crushing workload, about the resolve to come back to the US (The have been gone for 10 years). We talked about extended family, helping others, and faith. She gave me updates on lots of our shared friends.

We had food at a Pub and then coffee at Starbucks. The only thing that could have made it better was more time. It made me treasure my friends all the more.

Day 1.5

2008-05-22T05:00:00.000-07:00

I'm back on the train getting ready to head to London. I've just spent the day with Lawrence.

He seems so much better than last year. A number of trouble makers have left the church which is good and bad. It is good because he is more free to pursue God's vision for the church. It is bad because he has even less resources with which to do it.

Two important recent developments. One, Lawrence has met with the local Baptists and is beginning to gain traction in the association (not sure if that is what they call it, but its the right idea). The group of ministers in the area have written on his behalf to receive some money from the official Baptist world. His colleagues think he should be helped, now they are trying to work through their system to make that happen. I;m so proud for him. His diligence and faithfulness is beginning to pay off. In addition, he has met some of the former pastors of the church. They have told him of their difficulties at the church. Several of them did not get paid. The same trouble makers were at the church causing trouble years ago. He was encouraged by these talks.

I think he was a very successful pastor in Ghana and this struggle has been a very difficult blow to his ego. I think these pastor friends have helped him re-frame the trouble. It sounds so much like New Hope from my life. I would not wish it on anyone, but after surviving a place like it, a person has a deeper level of commitment and a stronger sense of calling.

Lastly, information for the future: The Jurys Inn Brighton has just opened. It is yards outside of the train station and has excellent rates. www.jurysinns.com. 101 Stroudley Rd. Brighton, BN1 4DJ, 44 (0) 127 386 2121. During the week is reasonable 56pounds, a little over 100 on weekends.

We had a coffee and then walked into town for him to get extra minutes on his phone. Their computers were not working so he was not able to get that done. Sarah was trying to reach him, but he missed her call. Eventually she called back. We were sitting on the rocky beach getting some sun and.she was coming to Brighton from the University where she is about the finish her final year for a Bachelors degree in renal nursing. She came and we got to sit together for about an hour and listen about their children. Their oldest is in the final year of high school and they are planning to send her to Ghana for college.

I asked why and they told me that the English schools are so focused on technology, that the children are learning to become lazy by depending on all the stuff around their lives. They think her education will be better in Ghana. They say it is better training for the mind when you have less technology to depend upon. It sounded just like me when I act surprised that kids in High School take calculators to class. We had to use slide rulers or paper.

We made plans to ask Bruce and Nancy Webb to come and do a marriage seminar and I will contact him when I get home.

When I get back to London I'm going to find a theater and see Indian Jones! I'm praying it is exciting enough to keep me awake.

Mind the Gap
Kyle