Update!

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.

[Hebrews 10:23]

Sometime along in my (first) senior year at Texas A&M this verse came to fruition in my life in more ways that I can fathom. The last year-ish of my life - since Alicia and I began this journey towards missions in Africa together - God has shown over and over and over again just how faithful He truly is.

Where do I even begin?

I've been TERRIBLE at blogging...my sincerest apologies. There was SO much going on in Korr in November, and then December got cray cray. I'll try to summarize November in another blog post, because...

Long story short, I was blessed to get to come back to the States for the holidays. Four whole weeks at home! Eating Panera Bread almost every day (literally...my goal is to be SICK of it by the time I leave on Monday!), spending sweet, sweet time with my family, and getting to catch up with so many wonderful dear friends. The Lord has been SO faithful to provide in my time home...I've been learning SO much about so many things in this time of rest, all the while trying to process my first 3 1/2 months in Kenya.

Surprisingly enough, no culture shock...none at all! There have been many moments where I've stopped to think about how differently "this" (being whatever situation I'm in) would have played out in Kenya, however. Like the time I was meeting a friend for dinner and she called to apologize profusely because she would be five minutes late (that's practically early in Kenya!), or how when I drive anywhere in the States I know that people will at least pretend to obey traffic laws (traffic laws in Kenya? WHAT traffic laws in Kenya?). How chai lattes at Starbucks just confuse me (real chai in Kenya is just tea steeped in hot milk with a whole lot of sugar). More than anything, how life on this side of the Atlantic Ocean is so much more...fast-paced than I remember.

One thing is for certain...I can't wait to be back there. For however long the Lord has me in northern Kenya, my desire is to trust in His infinitely perfect plan and not my own finite views. Because He has and always will be faithful to provide.

Life has been crazy around here...

We're winding down the term so that means reviews must be given, exams have to be written (covering the curriculum for the entire year! I've only been here two months!) and with all of the other stuff that's been going on around here, I've hardly had any time to blog! But, be looking out soon for posts on...

RAIN! (we've had SO MUCH!)

Game Night at TSS! (We taught them the Cupid Shuffle and the Electric Slide!)

And my favorite...

The progressive dinner Christmas party we put on for our students last weekend, complete with gifts for everybody!

Check back soon :)

"Mzungu! Mzungu!" or "A day in the life of Jamie"

5:40 AM - Alarm goes off.

6:00 AM - Time to get out of bed. Every day is a race to see who will reach the light switch first...lately Alicia has been winning quite a bit.

6:00-6:30 AM - Get dressed, eat breakfast, plug in computer. There's a high chance I'll put on the same clothes I wore yesterday no matter how nasty they are...nearly everyone around here wears the same thing a few days in a row. Not because they're lazy, but because for many of them they don't own much else...

In Korr it's culturally unacceptable for women to show their knees...really to show any leg above your calf is seen as inappropriate. So, we wear long skirts. I have three I rotate through depending on their cleanliness.

Breakfast each morning usually consists of a cup of coffee (very needed) and a slice of homemade bread with peanut butter on it (Lynne makes the BEST bread...I'm learning to make it too!). Find keys to Lynne's office among the many keys hanging on the hooks in the kitchen. Unlock office and plug in computer to power strip so it will be charged when I get home in the afternoon. (Power is a bit of an issue here - we run mainly off solar power. We don't have any plugs in the wall in our house. Lynne runs her computer off of a generator, so we plug in each morning to get all juiced up for the evening.)

6:30 AM - Laura (another missionary who lives in Korr) meets us as the front gate of the house and we depart for school. This is my favorite part of the day - the sun has just come up over the horizon and the air is still cool for our 2 km walk to school. The center of town is still quiet - no one is shouting at us...yet.

6:50 AM - Arrive at school just in time for teacher devotions. Each morning a teacher shares a Bible verse and we pray together as a staff before we meet with the students at...

7:10 AM - Meet with the students before classes. This time looks different every day - sometimes it's class assembly, sometimes it's class devotions, sometimes it's a class meeting.

7:30 AM - Classes begin. Since we only have Form 1 this year at TSS (equivalent of 9th grade) and 8 teachers, we all only have 1-2 periods a day. (This all changes in January when we add Form 2 - hooray!) Most of the morning is spent reading, preparing lessons, etc.

12:00ish PM - After teaching my one or two classes a day I begin the 20 minute walk home.

Here's where it can get interesting.

There's a pack of Rendille children (yes, a pack) that practically assaults me on the way home every day. "Mzungu! Mzungu!" they shout. I'm using all the Rendille I know (which still isn't much) to try to teach them my name so they can shout that at me instead. Them shouting "mzungu" at me is roughly the equivalent of someone shouting "white person!" at you over and over as you walk down the street back home. It's cute for about the first day and a half.

The pack catches up to me and holds out their hands for me to shake. Sometimes they demand I give them "sweets"...I never have any. (I wouldn't give them on demand anyway!) The kids are precious in a slightly obnoxious way. Yet all of them are too cute for words - a few don't have pants on and all of them are snot-nosed. "How are you? How are you?" they say in unison...one of two English phrases they know. "Fine," I reply...the only response they understand. "Nebeybariteen?" I venture (it means "good morning?"...actually the literal translation is "do you have peace this morning?" The Rendille are very big on wanting to know whether or not you have peace.). They all giggle at my Rendille pronounciation and respond "nebey!" ("I am fine!"..."I have peace!") They'll tail me for a hundred meters more giggling (cute) and offering their hands and demanding I shake them (not so cute once you get sick from it). After some time they'll stop following me and shout "Bye bye!" - the only other English phrase they know.

The rest of my greetings on the way home will hopefully be less demanding. Rendille greet every single person they pass...every single one. I've gotten quite good at greeting in Rendille but after that I still get lost...

12:15ish-5:00 PM. Afternoons look different every day. Staff meetings, language lessons, mentoring time with our students...they fill up rather quickly. By 5:00 every day I'm exhausted and ready to shower.

5:15 PM - It's bath time. Since we have no running water (really not as bad as it sounds) we bathe in a (rather large) bucket. Use the one of buckets by our drums of water to pour water into the bigger bucket to bathe in. Heat up a kettle on the stove if you're feeling like a hot bath. Pour kettle in big bucket of water and step in. Use pitcher to dump water over your head and lather up. Repeat until clean.

Make sure to watch out for the spiders :)

6:30 PM - Sunset. Life here revolves around the sun - when it's dark things come to a standstill. No street lights here in Korr!

6:45 PM - Dinner time. We eat our big meal at lunch time so that Lynne is not sitting over a hot stove in the afternoon. (Contrary to America, our hottest hour here is somewhere between 2-4 PM...and believe me, it's hot!)

7:45 PM - Time to get ready for bed. Wash face in basin in the room (that we refill from a bucket of water we keep in the corner), brush teeth (we spit outside...cute, huh?), change in to pajamas. (This is the only time it's okay for us to wear shorts!) Get on the computer, pray the internet is working, email friends and family.

9:30 PM - Bedtime! The desert sun zaps your energy faster than you think. Tuck your mosquito net underneath your mattress to keep the all the bugs off your face while sleeping. Make sure your windows are open to catch the night breezes (Korr's very own version of air conditioning...the wind almost never stops blowing here). It will be time to wake up again before you know it...

Nguru-what?

Last Saturday was the student's fall "retreat." In Kenya, "retreat" means "get out of Korr for the day," "go somewhere cooler," and "cook lots of food." We did all three of those things...in Ngurunit!

Ngurunit (In-goo-roo-nit) is a small town in the mountains about 45 km south of Korr. Alicia and I have actually been there before to visit the Knowles, one of the missionary families that live there. The students worked really hard to raise the funds to go for the day and they wanted to go here, so the teachers got in touch with the Knowles and the AIC church in Ngurunit, found the supplies we needed, and we were off!

Reason #1 of many why I knew this was going to be a wonderful day: we were allowed to wear trousers. PANTS! I haven't worn pants since we left Nairobi over six weeks ago. Seriously...I will never take pants for granted again.

We met up at school at 5:30 AM. Most of our students had been up since FOUR...they were so excited they couldn't get back to sleep! We packed 32 students, 7 teachers, 1 baby, 2 cooks, several other students we were giving a ride home to (they're on mid-term break), enough food for 45 people, and two bicycles (two of our students biked home to Ilaut, a town maybe 15 km south of Ngurunit) into the backs of two trucks.

Two. Trucks.

Amazingly, it all fit.

We were off! It has been raining in northern Kenya, and it had rained in Ngurunit the night before. We were pretty worried about making it there safely - up here, there are no paved roads and no bridges. Driving through dry riverbeds when they're dry is one thing, but when they have water in them...it can get pretty hairy. Fortunately, we only encountered one riverbed with water in it, and it wasn't enough to be worried about.

We arrived in Ngurunit safe and sound, and headed up to our site for the day - right along a stream of water that was actually flowing! The students quickly went to work with their assigned jobs - collecting firewood, getting water from the stream, etc. As the cooks built a fire to make chai, our principal Kakume calls us all over and announces we're going hiking...to see a waterfall!

"Wonderful!" I thought. "Surely it's just right around the bend in the stream. It can't be too far away!"

No. It was probably 3 km away, uphill. Over rocks. LOTS and LOTS of wet, slippery, muddy rocks. Maybe rocks isn't the best way to describe it...they were more like boulders. Slippery, muddy boulders.

For Kenyans this was no problem at all. Half of our class was in flip flops yet they are bounding like gazelles between rocks - jumping and leaping like they do this every day. Hike 3 km uphill over muddy, slippery boulders? Noooooo problem.

Alicia, Laura, and I, meanwhile, are not Kenyan. Nor are we gazelles. Quickly we get left behind to struggle. While are students are jumping (Literally. Jumping. All the way up the rocks) Alicia and I are making our way up slowly, testing out rocks first to make sure they're safe to step on, not too slippery, etc. It doesn't take long for our students to notice all the wazungu lagging behind.

"Madam! Let me help you" they say, as they grab our hands and try to guide us. Like we are 87 year old women trying to cross the street. Kakume even makes a point to say loudly for all the students to hear: "Let us make sure we are helping our three sisters out." "The three white ones," he added...as if it wasn't clear who was struggling to keep up with the Kenyan pace.

The "three white ones." I almost fell over laughing. John, our math teacher, thought it was hilarious. "Come," he would say - no, commanded - as he grabbed our arms and led us back down from the waterfall at breakneck speed. "Lucy, you need help?" (Lucy is one of our three female students.) "No, sorry, cannot help you. You're black!"

Kenyans calling each other black...what? Maybe that's one of those culture things I don't understand yet.

The waterfall was beautiful - it was so refreshing to see. Some of our students jumped in to swim...something they never get to do! We spent about an hour at the waterfall - swimming, splashing, taking tons of pictures. Then, it was time to head back down to our campsite.

After much "Madam, come this way", "Madam, give me your hand", or - my favorite - "Madam, jump on this rock" (with this rock always being IMPOSSIBLE to get to) we made it back to our campsite for chai. We played some games with the students - Alicia and I taught them "This is so much fun" (they LOVED it) and several hand clapping games. Then, lunchtime!

Let me say this first: our students rarely get to eat meat...the school can't afford it. They eat a lot of ugali and beans...a lot of it. But THIS meal...this meal was fit for a Kenyan king.

Camel meat, potatoes, onions, rice, chiapattis (Kenyan tortillas-ish)...oh boy. It was delicious, and all of our students looked satisfied and full.

We spent the afternoon playing more games and drinking more chai. (Kenyans take their chai VERY seriously...twice a day, every day. No exceptions!) It was cloudy and overcast all day long - which was wonderful because it kept the temperature WAY down. I even wore a long sleeved shirt for part of the day! It drizzled on and off...enough to keep us cool but never too much that would ruin our trip.

After our last cup of chai we went to pack up the car and head on home.

But this is Africa...it's never that easy! One of the trucks managed to get water in the fuel tank during the day. It was making TERRIBLE noises. We made it to the Knowles' house and they checked out the car while we waited. Fortunately, they were able to lend us enough fuel to make it home.

We arrived back at Tirrim Secondary as the sun was setting. Our students sang the WHOLE way home as they hung off all sides of the trucks. We dropped them off exhausted and satisfied...their faces bright and bellies full.

It was a good day...one that they will probably remember for a long time. John (the student, not the teacher) came up to me as we were taking our afternoon chai.

"Madam," he said with a smile on his face. "I have enjoyed today very much."

"Wonderful!" I replied. "I'm so glad to hear that!"

"Yes, Madam," he responded. "I think I will write a composition about it!"

That's one composition I can't WAIT to read.

Living out the Gospel

A passage from Tom Davis's Red Letters:

(ALL of you should stop reading right now and go buy this book...seriously)

I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. "When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I'll listen. "When you come looking for me, you'll find me. "Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I'll make sure you won't be disappointed."

[Jeremiah 29:11-14, The Message]

As I've come to recognize the diversity of living conditions and circumstances in our world, I've had to ask myself some tough questions: Does this Jeremiah passage apply to everyone or just to those of us who live in wealthy countries? Does it pack the same kind of meaning to people in developing countries; do they get to look forward to a hope and a future? Does it apply to the infant who was just infected with HIV through her mother's breast milk? Do children who have no other option but to sell their bodies for money for food get to claim this promise of a God-ordained destiny?

God says, "I will not abandon you." Put yourself in the figurative shoes (she has no real ones) of a five-year-old girl somewhere in the middle of Africa. Your father has died of AIDS and, after you've watched your mother cough up blood and shrivel to nothing for the last month and a half, she, too, is gone. How do you make sense of this passage? How do you not feel abandoned?

What do you set your hopes in? You set your hopes in people. People who might show up and offer a refuge, a safe place, a home. People who are the living embodiment of Christ himself. People like you and me. People who can show, with the actions of their heart, that God has not abandoned you at all.

God created every human being in his image, including people like this five year old girl whom the rest of the world has thrown away because of cruelty or neglect or ignorance. God has plans for each of them to have hope and a future too. Here's what I'm getting at - God does not abandon us. But sometimes, it takes the touch of God-with-skin-on to remind us of that. Perhaps you've had seasons when the silence of God echoed loudly in your heart. How did you find your way back? I expect the encouragement and prayers of others helped. And that's who we are to be to the poor and hurting in Africa - others. God's others. God has given us the tools and the resources to give hope to the hopeless. But unless we take those tools out of the closet, millions of innocent men, women, and children will continue to die without knowing that hope.

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A lot of people have told me, once they found out I was going to do missions in Africa for a year, that I was doing "such a good thing" or that "they could never do what I'm doing."

Here's the thing though: I'm not doing anything special. I'm a sinner just like you. There is nothing good in me except of that that comes from Christ. Not a single thing. I am doing nothing extraordinary here in Kenya, and if you'd told me that I would be here three years ago I would have laughed you out of the room. I am only here because God has called me to Kenya to be His hands and feet to the Rendille people and here's the thing: He's calling you to be His hands and feet too.

We as Christians are called to care for the orphan, the widow, the homeless. The lowest of the low. Our King died on the cross for the millions of Africans infected with HIV/AIDS and preventable diseases like malaria just like He died for you and me.

"I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." [Matthew 25:40]

Jesus even goes as far to say that how we treat these very people - the ones the world neglects and is cruelly indifferent to - is how we treat Him.

Yikes. Anybody feeling uncomfortable yet? I certainly am. How many homeless people on street corners have I avoided making eye contact with? How much do I love my Starbucks and spend my money on things I don't need but want instead of giving it to somebody who truly needs it? You don’t have to go to the other side of the world to find poverty and suffering.

I'm not trying to make you feel guilty for drinking your frappachinos...promise. What I'm saying is you don't have to come to Africa to help bring justice to the millions who, by no fault of their own, were born in Africa and not America. You can help from where you are.

Those of us in the Western world cannot sit by any longer and watch this. We are equipped with more than we could ever need; we have the very tools that can end needless suffering for millions of people - not just in Africa, but over the entire world. We have more money than the vast majority of the world can even dream of. Why don’t we stop talking about helping and actually start helping?

Did you know that 1.2 billion people in the world are estimated to live on less than $1 per day and almost 3 billion people on less than $2 a day? That's 3.9 billion people out of a world population of almost 7 billion. Did you know that 2.5 million children die every year from malaria...a disease that is preventable?

Overwhelmed yet? That's okay. I am too. Statistics like these upset me because it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I was born into a loving, healthy family and have never had to worry about whether or not I would have a roof over my head as I slept that evening. It’s not fair that I’ve never gone to sleep hungry while literally billions of people around the world do every single night.

But instead of getting upset and stopping there let's DO something about it.

“We, as Christ followers, are called to continue the work Jesus began. What does this mean? It means we have to embody the good news. It means we have to do all we can to end poverty, to feed the hungry, and to find homes for the homeless. It means we have to listen to that inner voice crying for justice and act on it.”

[Tom Davis, Red Letters]

Let’s pray together. But let's not use prayer as an excuse to not actually go out and serve.

Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

[James 2:15-17]

Let’s serve together…it doesn’t have to be overseas. Serve your community. Serve your neighbors that you don’t like. Serve the homeless guy you see every morning as you drive to work. Jesus didn't tell us to love the people that are easy to love, he told us to love everybody. We can't just sit back and expect somebody else to serve for us. WE, as the Church, are called to be His hands and feet to the orphan, to the widow, to the oppressed. God holds these people in a special place in His infinite heart. We have more than the means to actually provide for people in addition to praying for them. We should be the ones on the front lines instead of waiting around for governments or even NGO’s to get there first.

Let’s give together…give our time, our efforts, and our money. If you can’t go across the world, give support to somebody who can. God calls some of us to go and he calls some of us to support. Serve the millions of orphans of Africa by donating to any number of worthwhile charitable organizations that are already on the ground there. Donate to missions organizations. Sponsor a child in need through Compassion International, Family Legacy, HopeChest, or any other Christian sponsorship program.

There is so much sin in our world…so much evil. AIDS, poverty, child trafficking, slavery…the list is never-ending. But we have Hope. Hope in Christ, and the grace to receive that hope freely. We as Christians should be loving as Christ did by bringing that hope to everyone...

Everyone.

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”

[Edmund Burke]

What's in a clan?

I’ve been given a new name. An African name, to be exact.

You ready for this?

From now on, you may refer to me as Siberyan Labarakwe.

Some of you are probably thinking, 'Yes, Jamie. We KNOW you’ve been given a Rendille name. Siberyan. What else is new?'

Yes. But NOW I have a last name too!

Because I’VE BEEN ADOPTED BY A RENDILLE CLAN!

The Rendille tribe is further broken down into eight clans. I could try and name them all for you, but I don’t know them all yet.

BUT…I do know one clan name. Roongummo.

MY clan.

For six weeks now Alicia and I have just been wazungu here in Korr– two crazy white girls who can’t really speak the language that are here to teach. Which would seem like enough, but here it’s not. The Rendille culture is one that strongly identifies with family. Your clan is your extended family…the ones you can always count on. It’s a HUGE part of your identity! People have asked us many times: “Ati a goobah?” (What clan are you?) We have never had answers…until now.

Amina, our Rendille language teacher, adopted me on Friday into her family. Her last name is Labarakwe – which is now my Rendille last name too! Alicia was adopted earlier in the day by Nariyo, a woman from our church. She’s now a Dubsahai.

“Ani a Roongummo!” I now proudly say. This elicits multiple responses from many people – especially other Roongummo clan members!

Rendille relations get confusing after that. Amina is my Rendille mother, but everybody else seems to skip cousin and aunt or uncle and just go to brother and sister. I now have dozens of new brothers and sisters....AND. Guess who I'm now related to!

KHASSO!

Then, some people technically have TWO clans - they were born into one but married into another. Alicia and I sat down and tried to figure out if we're now related through our Rendille families. Nick is a Salle (another clan) but Lynne is a Roongummo - she's my sister. Alicia's Rendille mama Nariyo was born a Salle but married into Dubsahai. Nick is Nariyo's "father" (not really) and therefore Alicia's grandfather. (Confused yet?) But because Lynne is married to Nick and Lynne is my "sister," I am now...

Alicia's great-aunt.

Ridiculous.

Kenyan-isms

I love Kenyan English.

Today, after school Alicia and I were talking about American rap with some of our students. (If you're wondering why we were talking about rap, I am too...) Somehow we arrived at 50 Cent.

Let me stop for a second and clarify something: my students may be black, but they are the farthest thing from hood you've ever met. They haven't a clue what "hood" even means. They've heard of Soulja Boy, Brandy(...), 2pac, and 50 Cent, but they have no idea about the culture that comes with rap music.

Nevertheless, I uttered the phrase (in my best hood impression) "Fiddy! He's been shot fo' times!" (You can go ahead and judge me. I won't be offended.)

To which Ismail enthusiastically responded, "YES, Madam! He HAS been shot four times!"

Okay, it's not as funny when it's typed out in a blog post, but I'm STILL laughing. He was so proper in the way he said it!

I'm still getting used to Kenyan English. Example: Alicia is pointing out to Jonathan where he is in a picture she took:

Jonathan: "Yes, Madam! I am seeing!"

Not "I see"..."I am seeing." Love it.

The only problem with understanding Kenyan English is how quietly they speak it. Kenyans are SO soft-spoken, and then half of the time they try to convey what they want to say without using words and instead using facial expressions and hand gestures. Most of the times my students try to talk to me I have to respond with a "HUH?" "WHAT?" "Could you repeat that, please?"

But it's getting better. Slowly. (VERY slowly!) But slowly is better than not at all!

(On a complete side note, can you guess which famous action hero all of my students have heard of? That's right...Chuck Norris. Walker, Texas Ranger plays every Saturday afternoon here in Kenya!)

It's official...

I've gone national.

I *may* or may not have incredulously uttered the words, "Where did all these WHITE PEOPLE come from?" today.

I'm turning into a Rendille.

Today is a national holiday in Kenya - it's Moi Day. Moi was the second president of Kenya - he was actually a HUGE supporter of AIM missionaries, but that's a topic for a whole other post. Point is, each fall Tirrim Primary and Secondary schools hold a Culture Day on Moi Day. It's an opportunity for the kids to show off their Rendille culture to the community! (Which is all Rendille too, but that's beside the point...)

Over a THOUSAND people were there. Traditional Rendille who walked up to 20 kilometers to come watch their son or daughter perform. We saw traditional prayers, a wedding ceremony acted out by the Class 1 kids, several different tribal dances, and even a rap performed in Swahili!

Our kids at the Secondary School performed three Samburu dances - 3/4 of our class is Samburu and not Rendille. (The Samburu are cattle herders while the Rendille are camel herders, and because of this they get along as their animals graze at different levels - grass for cattle vs. eye-level for camels.)

I think I'm beginning to understand why my mom took so many pictures at all of my dance competitions and volleyball games growing up. Alicia and I were straight up OBNOXIOUS trying to get pictures of our students...we defined the term "Mamarazzi" that Kendall so lovingly coined. I've never been so proud of a group of people in my entire life. They were the highlight of the day!

Seriously. They are WARRIORS! I forget that sometime. In school, all I seem them as are students - teenagers who have fought through every hardship imaginable just to have a chance at a real secondary education. They inspire me in more ways than I could ever, ever express. But all the while I still forget sometimes that we are in Africa, that they are African, that they belong to a tribe, and that these tribes have their own distinctive, unique cultures.

Until today!

Needless to say, Alicia and I LOOOOOOVED Culture DAY :) I think we took, what...1000 pictures between the two of us? No big.

But back to the beginning of my post - there were twelve Dutch people at Culture Day today. TWELVE. All looked very out of place in their trousers -women don't wear trousers in Korr- and REI shirts. (They were guests of honor as they are building a Primary School in Ngurunit, a neighboring town.)

They tripled the wazungu population today in Korr.

It was as soon as I finished saying it that I realized I've grown more comfortable here than I thought. We are (slowly) learning the language; we have met and made friends with some of the women at church - both traditional and English-speaking. People are slowly less and less acting shocked to see a mzungu wandering through town at midday as we make our way home from school. I looked at the date today and realized we've been here over FIVE WEEKS! Time really has flown by.

Despite the cultural barriers and lack of comforts from home I took for granted, this place is really starting to feel like a home away from home.

Kenyan School of Thought

Picture a pick up truck. There's nothing special about it...a regular-sized pickup with a regular-sized bed.

Got that picture in your head?

How many people you figure you can fit comfortably in the bed of this imaginary pickup?

If you're like me, you said something around 8. Maybe 9 or 10, if they're good friends and don't mind snuggling and your destination is a short distance away.

Now if you're Kenyan, you'd say 20 without any hesitation in your voice.

I'm serious. Today at our staff meeting we were talking about a retreat the students are hoping to go on next weekend. (In Kenya, "retreat" means "get out of Korr, eat something, and then drive back.")

Only problem is, we're in the desert. Middle-of-nowhere, there-are-no-paved-roads-for-MILES, desert. So when we leave Korr, we have to go far. Ngurunit is a town about 45 kilometers away from Korr, and where the students want to go for this retreat.

Keep in mind we don't have school buses here - the Rendille don't even know what that is. Rendille walk. They walk EVERYWHERE. Alicia and I have already been made fun of by our students for this.

"Madam, you cannot run 5 kilometers?" (We had been talking about charity 5ks back in the States) They all snicker amongst themselves.

God bless Jonathan: "It's okay Madam. If you can run 5 kilometers, you can surely walk 10!" Even Kakume, our principal, had this nonchalant response when he heard there is a missionary family in Ngurunit that wants us to come visit except we have no means of transportation: "Just walk there!" (Oh, yeah....a 45 kilometer stroll through the harsh desert where lions have been known to roam. NBD.)

The Rendille are straight up crazy sometimes. Case in point: we have no cell phone towers in Korr...but if you're desperate to talk on the phone, fear not! There's a mountain near Korr that if you climb to the very top of it - over the boulder-sized lava rocks and past all the puff adders, scorpions, and cobras - you can get a cell phone signal. People walk to it "all the time," we've been told. "It's not far, Madam!" our students say.

This mountain is 17 kilometers away from Korr.

Would you walk 17 kilometers and taunt death (or severe injury) just to talk on the phone? Would you walk for an hour and forty minutes under the beating, harsh desert sun just to use your cell?

Heck. No.

Some of the Rendille do it regularly!

But I digress.

20 people in the back of a pickup. No problem! It was comical to think about for me....the differences in Kenyan and American rationalities. All I could think about: How unsafe is this? How could we even FIT 20 people in one pickup bed? It's not a paved road we'll be driving on...it's a bumpy desert road. What if people fall out? Ngurunit is at least an hour's drive away! What if something happens in between Korr and Ngurunit? Will the truck be able to handle the weight of 20 people who will surely be standing in the bed and not sitting?

Every Kenyan teacher: "Yeah. 20 is not a problem. There are 43 of us...so we only need two cars!" End. Of. Story.

TWO CARS FOR FORTY THREE PEOPLE.

One thing's for sure: I'm calling shotgun.

We all speak the same language after all

One of the first nights we were here a group came down from Kalacha – another mission station about 3-4 hours from here – to learn more about the literacy program Nick & Lynne started in Korr. Lynne figured that there’s no one better to hear from about how the literacy program can bring people to Christ than from someone who actually accepted Christ through the literacy program, so we trekked to a goob just outside of Korr to visit Nariyo.

Nariyo is a woman here in Korr that LOVES the Lord. I say that in capital letters because I have never met anyone who exemplifies Christ in every single one of her actions like Nariyo does. She is a passionate, humble, ardent follower of Jesus – she spends her time trekking out to many of the goobs surrounding Korr with other Rendille believers to share the Gospel and try to explain to the Rendille just how knowing Christ has completely changed her life.

We came upon Nariyo’s goob in Grant & Loki’s Land Rover at dusk – 9-10 people packed in to a 7 seat vehicle (you know, the African way). We parked the van and trekked across the lugga (a dried riverbed) to enter the goob so the Kalacha people could meet Nariyo. A group of wazungu can attract quite a crowd, so we decided to move outside the goob to talk to Nariyo; it was quickly decided that the lugga would be the best place to talk.

As the sun set, the stars came out in the sky and with a cool breeze at our backs, we listened to Nariyo speak with such passion and conviction of how the literacy program had led her to know the Lord and how much of a difference it made in her life. I couldn’t understand a WORD she was saying in Rendille – Nick was translating for the rest of us - but I clearly understood the message she was conveying to Nick.

Jesus saves.

Being here with the Rendille makes me feel like I’m back in the Old Testament. The Rendille still make sacrifices to their god; they refuse to eat many animals because they are ‘unclean.’ Many Rendille Christians are shunned by members of their families because they refuse to participate in these ritual sacrifices after they are saved. How do you explain to all of these lost people that Christ is the ultimate sacrifice?

Nariyo and I may not speak the same verbal language, but we most definitely speak the same heart language. It is a language that speaks of this understanding – that Jesus died for us so that we may truly live.

We came back to visit Nariyo a few nights ago. Her brother is very, very sick – just like many of the people are here. The drought in Kenya has completely devastated many of the Rendille – they have no food and many of their animals are dying. (The Rendille are herders – camels, goats, donkeys, etc.) To make matters worse, sickness is running rampant in Korr. A cholera epidemic came through northern Kenya earlier this year (but not Korr, praise the Lord. A HUGE answer to prayer) – one of our new students at school lost both parents and his sister to cholera this past summer.

Nariyo's brother is a new Christian. He is a Rendille warrior, and his job is to herd and keep his animals safe and fed. The Rendille are one of the only tribes in northern Kenya whose land does not cross international borders - many of the tribes have "their" land in Ethiopia. It is much easier to get weapons in Ethiopia too. As a result many of these neighboring tribes use AK-47s as weapons while the Rendille only have their spears.

The Turkana raided Nariyo's brother and his fellow warriors one day when he was out in the bush. He was the only survivor. He came home and told Nariyo that he felt the bullets flying by all around him, but none hit him. Nariyo told him that it was because she prayed for his safety. Her brother was so perplexed and confused by this statement that he went out into the bush and sat for two days. Two days! At the end of the second day he came back and said to Nariyo, "You must tell me more about your God."

It is this same brother who is now very, very sick. Out here, being sick is not a good thing at all. There is no hospital in Korr – just a small dispensary run by the Catholics. Nick & Lynne have been sending their car on medical runs nearly every day these past week – people here are desperate for medical attention and they have almost no access to it. We heard the dispensary has seen over 150 people this past week- that is an enormous amount of people to be seen when there is not much medicine that can be given to them.

Please pray for the Rendille. There are tentative plans in the works to build a hospital in Korr, but it will take years before it is possible – if funding even comes through. It is heartbreaking to see so many people sick with diseases and ailments that are treatable – that is, if they had adequate medical attention. Fuel costs are sky high up here and Nick & Lynne cannot afford to pay out of their own pockets the cost it takes to get these people adequate medical attention, but they do it anyway because if they don’t these people will die. There is essentially no government up here in the north – minimal funding ever makes it to these tribes. The people here are more scared of the police and the government – the ones who are supposed to be protecting them – than they are of neighboring tribes they are feuding with. There is no one up here to offer care to the Rendille…no one except the church.

How do we deny health care to people? What makes us “worthy” of medical attention? We complain about sky high health care costs in the States…at least we have access to doctors, even if it is expensive. At least we have hospitals that have qualified, trained doctors and nurses who can take care of their patients. I can’t even begin to share the atrocities I’ve heard about that occur in many “reputable” African hospitals. The entire situation is completely overwhelming.

Please pray for the Rendille.

How Bore-ing

A lot of people have asked me about the drinking water situation here. No, we don’t have running water. I take a bucket bath every night and Alicia and I each have basins in our room that we use to wash our faces and brush our teeth. I promise it sounds worse than it is, but oh how I do miss running water sometimes!

We get our drinking water and everything-else water from boreholes. A borehole is a well that’s been drilled down way way deep into one of the dried riverbeds around here. The water comes from so far down that it’s perfectly safe to drink, but it has…a taste. It tastes like a mixture between salt and metal…mmm. Thank goodness for Crystal Light!

Life here revolves around the sun – it’s up by 6:30 AM and it sets by 7:00 PM. “Sleeping in” is 7:00 AM – by that point the sun is so bright you’re not going to get any more sleep anyway. It is DARK at night here – so dark that you can see all the stars in the sky. We can see the Milky Way! I don’t miss the city lights when I can see a sky like this one every single night. By “missionary midnight” every night (9:00 PM) we’re well on our ways to going to sleep.

But back to the title of the blog entry – we have these *lovely* bugs here that are carpenter bees…or the African version of a carpenter bee. They bore holes in wood. Guess what? All of the supporting beams in our little house are wood. These bees seem to think that our support beams are their home. Alicia and I strongly disagree.

It would be fine if these bugs weren’t so stinking loud. Every morning at 6:00 they come in our open windows and start buzzing around, trying to find a hole that we haven’t duct-taped over in our feeble effort to tell them they aren’t welcome. A single bee buzzing in my room will wake me from the deepest slumber – it’s like an African alarm clock but it leaves a mess behind. I’ve managed to kill quite a few of them (so THAT’S why I packed those other shoes!) but they STILL KEEP COMING BACK. You’d think they would get the message when all of their buddies quit buzzing around…nope. There are a few persistent ones that will be dead soon…that is a promise.

If you get a chance this week, say hello to flushing toilets, chocolate chips, fresh fruits & vegetables, pants & shorts, reliable power sources, and high speed internet for me J

Reflections

The internet here is a little bit finicky. Meaning, if you don’t hear from me for a while, assume that no news is good news.

Warning: This post is allllll over the place. A few reflections on my first week in Korr:

In the past week I’ve managed to rip BOTH dresses I brought and one of my three skirts. Meaning, my students are going to see a whole lot of this stylish black and white skirt I bought from Ross that looks like it jumped straight out of the early 1980’s.

The only shoes I’ve really worn are my Chaco’s - the desert is ruthless and rough and will rip most shoes to shreds rather quickly. The other ones work well for killing bugs in our room, though.

We have a lizard that lives in our cho (toilet…latrine…whatever you want to call it. It doesn’t flush because it’s a hole in the ground. BUT we do have a toilet seat!). I’ve named her Bertha Junior – mainly because thinking that the giant lizard peering up at me from inside the cho or from behind the stack of toilet paper is a female somehow makes it less terrifying. I stopped trying to name the cockroaches and spiders a long time ago…too many to count. By “terrifying,” I mean I have this huge fear that one of the aforementioned creatures will crawl on me why I am trying to use the restroom. Most of the time this results in me using Nick & Lynne’s cho instead of taking the chance of a cockroach or spider crawling up my leg.

Some more shuffling of subjects occurred and now I’m teaching Geography instead of Chemistry…don’t worry though. I’m still teaching Kenyan History. I tried to explain the irony of an American teaching Kenyan History to my class the other day (because I find it HILARIOUS – they know more about it than I do) and they just stared at me blankly. Apparently American irony does not translate well into Kenyan irony.

Tirrim Secondary School – AIC’s first secondary school in the north. BIG deal – there aren’t that many secondary schools for kids to go to up here – especially Christian ones. Tirrim just opened in January, and we only have Form 1 (9th-ish grade) this year; we are hoping to add Form 2 this January. We have 32 students in Form 1 – 29 guys and 3 girls. They range in age from 14-27. They are the EXACT opposite of American students. Attentive…polite…studious…and they have SUCH a desire to learn. But the combination of soft Kenyan accents and too many eager students trying to answer my questions at once results in me saying a lot of “HUH?” “I’m sorry…WHAT did you say?” and “Whoa. Uh…could you say that again slower?”

Like for example – today we were talking about what the students eat for breakfast in the morning. “Kahawa!” they proudly told me.
“I’m sorry…kaha-what?”
“Coffee, Madam!”
A few exchanges later I figured out that kahawa is coffee in Swahili.
“Oh! Yes, Kenyan coffee is good. I drink Kenyan coffee back in the States!”
“Yes, Madam. Here we drink coffee from (soft mumbling)-opia.”
“Um…what?”
“Utopia!” (or so I heard)
(Me, trying to think fast and make sense of what I think I just heard) “You drink…Utopian coffee?”
“NO, Madam. ETHIOPIA! We have coffee from Ethiopia.”
(Cue me trying SO hard not to laugh and feeling like a complete fool) “OH. Ethiopia. Well, that makes sense.”
“YES, Madam. They are so near!” (The Ethiopian border is just a few hour’s north of Korr.)

I also catch myself using intelligent phrases like “between a rock and a hard place” and “a rule of thumb to go by,” as well as using the word “y’all” about every three sentences. None of my students understand what I’m saying, but they’re way too polite to tell me that.

There’s SO much more…I’ll be posting again soon. But for now, know this: the Lord is moving mightily here in this small desert town, and I am so humbled to be here to play a part in it.

I know what I'm teaching!

Are you ready for this?

For this term of school...

I will be teaching...

Chemistry and History/Government.

KENYAN History & Government.

Can we all just stop and laugh at the irony here? I came all the way from America to teach a classroom full of nomadic Kenyans the history of their own country. A country I had never been to until 9 days ago.

9 days does not make me an expert on Kenyan history!

I just might be the most under qualified person for this class in the school…no. Make that the COUNTRY. Yes, there are Kenyan teachers at our school…no, they’re not teaching History. Hilarious.

Not to mention that I haven’t taken a Chemistry class since my freshman year in college. Yes…that was FIVE years ago.

Alicia is teaching Geography and Business Studies. To the secondary students. Yeah…we’re in the same boat here.

School starts Monday. It’s Saturday night here. Looks like we’ve got a TON of reading and learning to do in the next 36 hours.

Good news is…any learning my students do will certainly not be attributed to me. These next three months will ONLY be successful because the Lord desired them to be so. It’s certainly a humbling yet secure place to be in…even though teaching two subjects which I know next to nothing about is being ANYTHING but secure.

Tirrim Secondary School – the school we’re teaching at – just started this past January at the beginning of the first term of school. (Kenyan school starts in January and ends in December. Three terms: January-March, May-July, and September-November. April, August, and December are their months off). This year we only have Form 1 (equivalent to 9^th grade). We have 31 students and one classroom that the teachers rotate through. There will be 6-7 teachers this term.

Thankfully, each student at Tirrim has a textbook each for every class they’re in (almost unheard of in Africa!)…and they’re in class a lot. School starts at 7:10 and ends around 5:00 each day. Then, the students have mandatory study hours from 7:30-9:00 PM three nights a week. PLUS…they have class on Saturday from 9:30-12:30. Crazy!

Not to us, O LORD, not to us

but to YOUR name be the glory

because of YOUR love and faithfulness.

[Psalm 115:1]

Tutaonana Nairobi...

A list of lasts that are happening tonight (at least, until the end of November when I come back down country):

- Last night in Nairobi

- Last time to wear pants for a while

- Last time to have running water and thus, a flushing toilet

- Last time to (possibly) eat veggies

- Last night to have a reliable power source for my laptop (and only connection to the "real world")

- Last time to have access to a cell phone

A list of firsts that are happening tomorrow:

- First time to fly on a small plane (I think it's an 8-seater...ish?)

- First time to ever step foot in Korr, a place that the Lord has been preparing me for since last October

- First time to hear Rendille spoken and meet a people I have grown to love without ever meeting in person

- First time to experience first-hand what God is doing in the desert of "Kenya B" (as it is lovingly referred to by the "Kenya A" people - south Kenya vs. north Kenya)

I'm excited, I'm terrified...I think I'm ready. Orientation has been overwhelming at times, but God has made it (yet again) abundantly clear we are completely in His will by being here. Just exactly how long, well...that hasn't been determined yet. But we are trusting that He will provide, just like He always has and will.

A few prayer requests:

- Safe travels tomorrow. The weather has been so temperamental in Nairobi since we've been here...70 degrees and sunny one day, 50s and rainy the next.

- That what the Lord has us bringing to Korr would make it there. (does that even make sense?) The plane tomorrow can only officially take 20kgs of luggage from each of us...I think we have upwards of 200kgs of luggage total. (Before you completely judge us...that's counting school supplies, supplies for us for a year, etc.) Thankfully there was another flight up to Korr yesterday that was able to take a good portion of our stuff, but we still have a decent amount left. I've been triaging my supplies for a few days now...figuring out what I won't need in the next three months, what I definitely need, etc.

- II Corinthians 5:7 - "For we walk by faith not by sight" has become true reality for us. We still don't know what we're teaching, or when school starts. Really the only details we know about the next four months is that we have a retreat in Kijabe November 27-December 1 that we'll probably go to. Other than that, we have no idea what our time will look like. Pray that we would trust God with ALL of the details - which really, isn't hard right now because we don't have any other choice :)

- Finally, for the new relationships that will be forming over the next few days - with the other missionaries, with the teachers in school, with our students, and with people in Korr.

Your prayers and support are SO appreciated. Please, please don't hesitate to call or email me - I would LOVE to hear what's going on in all of your lives! It's like having a piece of home with us here in Kenya...seriously. Call and leave me a voice mail if I don't answer, email me, facebook me, whatever. I will do my absolute best to respond to you as soon as I can :)

Kenya

First off let me start off by saying that African church beats out American church every stinkin' time. (Those of you who've been to Zambia can attest to this truth. The rest of you will simply have to trust me!) Yesterday Alicia and I went with Murray and Diana to their church, AIC Ngong. (Africa Inland Church - Ngong.) AIM started AIC over 100 years ago. AIC Ngong is one of nearly 5000 churches AIM has helped establish across Kenya, boasting over 1,000,000 members and 2,000,000 affiliates.

The pastor shared the following story in his sermon:

"I have heard that America has designed a machine...a machine that can catch thieves. They decided to test it out by taking it to various countries. America tested it out and in 20 minutes caught 30 thieves. Then they sent the machine to the U.K. to see how it would work there. In 20 minutes it caught 300 thieves. In Spain, 25 thieves after 20 minutes. The machine made its way to Africa. In Ghana it caught 600 thieves in 10 minutes. Then the machine came to Kenya. In the first 5 minutes...the machine was stolen."

Everybody laughed...it's a funny story! But it is a sad illustration of the culture here in Africa, specifically Kenya. Kenya boasts that 80% of its population calls themselves "Christians." But Kenya also continues to have one of the top 10 highest corruption rates in the world. How does that compute? if 80% of the population are self-proclaimed "Christians," shouldn't some of the Christian morals and values filter their way into the government and way of life here?

One would think that. There is a church on almost every corner here in Nairobi. A private Christian university down the street from where we're staying. The Lord has definitely blessed this country...there is a lot more money here than I expected. Like a LOT. In Zambia "downtown" was three buildings that had more than 5 floors. We spent 2 hours walking around downtown Nairobi today and didn't even see half of it. I see BMWs and Audis pretty regularly driving down the streets. There are lots of wazungu here - it's not abnormal to see white people here like it was in Zambia. I went to a 4 story mall on Friday. FOUR STORIES. With escalators and elevators. The crazy part? It's not even the nicest mall in Nairobi.

Yet even with all of this, I am reminded at every corner that I am in a "developing" country. Cell phones here require a pin number to be entered in when they are turned on - it helps prevent thieves from using them if they are stolen. Nearly all parking lots are gated and have guards on duty - you take a ticket when you enter the parking lot, and you must show the guard the ticket when you leave. (It's supposed to help prevent you car from being stolen beccause the thief wouldn't have the ticket when they tried to exit the parking lot.)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is a saying here in Africa that the Sub-Saharan church is "a mile wide, and an inch deep." The Gospel is so prevalent here - millions in Kenya have come to believe in Jesus. But after that, what? There has not been much done to invest in these millions of lives. We are learning that the grandparent's generation here has a deep knowledge of their faith in Christ, but the younger generations do not. It's becoming more shallow as the generations come. Even more so are the dozens of tribes in Kenya (there are 42 total) that have yet to be reached for Christ. The "majority" have heard and know, but what about the rest? There have been missionaries in Korr for over 25 years. They've only just finished translating 80% of the New Testament into Rendille. The Rendille tribe is still one of the most unreached in the world - and we've been sharing and showing Christ to them for 25 years! There are dozens of other tribes in Kenya alone who have no access to the Bible in their own language.

When God first started calling us to Kenya I was doubtful because of these statistics. 'Why would God call us to go where somebody has already done all of the work?' I thought. Now I see.

There still is much work to be done.

Asante sana

"Asante sana"...means "thank you very much." Thanks for all of your prayers and words of encouragement. They mean so much and are such a vital part of our time here :)

The past few days have been a whirlwind of emotions: eye-opening, encouraging, heartbreaking, fulfilling. It is difficult to put into words how I feel right now. I know without a doubt that I belong here - that God has called me here with a purpose and a promise - but, I don't "belong" here. The Kenyan culture is so different from our brash American one, and I am learning that it will require many adjustments on my part for me to fit in so as not to hinder our ministry here. During our first orientation time Murray (the short-term coordinator for the East Regional office here in Nairobi...aka the guy who's in charge of our assignments in Kenya) and his wife Diana warned us that our actions really do speak larger than words here. The last thing we want as missionaries is to be lumped into the "tourist" crowd - loud, brash, and immodest "wazungus" (white people).

Staying here at Mayfield has been so surreal. For those of you who've never heard of it, Mayfield Guest House is a sort of sanctuary for AIM missionaries and other missionaries here in Nairobi. Missionaries come and stay here on their way into their assignment, on breaks, or as they are leaving. It's a hotel of sorts run by Kenyans who love the Lord and desire to "serve those who serve." Meals are served family-style here and the food is quite delicious. There are people from everywhere heading everywhere - I've met missionaries from South Africa, England, Holland, Canada, America heading to Kenya, Uganda, Sudan, the Comoro Islands, unnamed North African countries (they won't even tell us), South Africa...the list goes on. Most of the people here are career missionaries. I'm still getting used to the idea that for them staying here is totally normal - whether it's so they can drop their kids off at RVA (the MK school about an hour north of Nairobi) or they're stopping through on the way home (home being in Africa somewhere) from a conference in another African country. Conversations about their assignments are so interesting to listen to - people here live lives that are so out of the ordinary in Western eyes. This isn't temporary like it is for Alicia and me. This is normal for them. This is SO not normal for Alicia and me...at least not yet.

Speaking of meals, yesterday we walked into lunch late and had to sit at a table by ourselves. The array of food on the table quite confused me: rice, some sort of beef soup, what looked like really large tortilla chips, and a tray full of tomatoes, red onions, dried bananas, several other kinds of fruits, honey, and nuts. NO idea what to do with it or how to eat it. I asked one of the guys serving us the food to explain to me how we were supposed to eat the food. "You put it on your plate and you eat it!" was his reply.

Duh, Jamie.

Alicia and I just stared at each other. What to dried bananas and beef soup have in common? Everything, apparently. Some other people arrived late and sat down at our table and began to put everything I just listed in one big pile on their plates. Beef stew and mango with your rice? How about some honey too?

One last thing for now - most Kenyans I talk to have never heard of Korr. They're from Kenya...and they've never heard of Korr. We've been told that about "2,000 people get their water in Korr." Still unsure exactly what that means...guess we'll find out soon enough. We depart next Friday, September 4th from Nairobi for Korr.

Leavin' on a jet plane...

Wednesday

8:00 AM. Wake up in Pearl River, NY. Our last day in the U.S. It is surreal to think about...it is a day full of "lasts." Last time I'd have a Diet Dr. Pepper for a long time. Last time I'd use an American toilet. (Trust me, there IS a difference.) Last time I'd be able to brush my teeth in the sink without worrying about the quality of water. We had several hours in the morning blocked off for prayer time, but the four of us spent most of it running around from office to office trying to get everything done last minute. Will my ATM card work? Can I have more information about my health insurance plan? Questions, questions, questions...

11:30 AM. All of the short-termers at training week come together and pray. It was good - there was a peace in the room that transcended above all else. We were leaving today for Africa. That statement still had no meaning to me simply because it didn't seem real.

1:30 PM. Leave for the airport. As we are unloading all of our suitcases from the van we find 4 luggage carts...one for each of us. The first time of many that day it was evident the Lord was ahead of us preparing a path to Africa. Luggage carts cost $5 each and we found the exact number we needed waiting for us right outside our parked van. At the ticket counter a kind British Airways employee named Patricia discovers we are all missionaries and bumps us up to business class as a special treat.

7:30 PM. Our plane takes off an hour late because our pilot assures us that he could make the seven hour flight in "five hours fifty minutes." (He does.) Plenty of tearful phone calls are made before they asked us to turn our phones off. Alicia, Danielle, Julie, and I are all tucked in our row in business class...except Julie and I don't have working televisions. The flight attendant's response? "Well, I could move you two ladies up to First Class if you'd like..." Heck. Yes. First Class is where the seats recline 180 degrees. Julie and I manage to get over 2 hours' solid rest before landing in London.

Thursday

7:00 AM. We land in London and it's morning. Our bodies tell us it's most definitely not. Exhausted, we sit around in Terminal 5 taking turns watching the luggage and going to the bathroom to wash our faces and brush our teeth. Last time to make use of a speedy internet connection.

8:30 AM. Alicia and I say our goodbyes to Danielle and Julie (they fly together to Uganda later that evening) and head to our gate. We grab sandwiches and drinks at a Boots in the airport - and quickly realize that British food has no flavor whatsoever. So much for a tasty "last meal..."

10:30 AM. We take off from the exact same gate we landed at four hours earlier. Sleep on and off the entire flight. Sitting next to a guy named Dan who was from Chicago and headed to Kenya for a 12 day safari. We banter about immunizations...Dan couldn't get the yellow fever shot because of some medication he was taking. Instead, the doctor gave him a note. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he jokes with us. "I'm gonna hold it up to all the mosquitoes and say 'Look. I've got a note from my doctor here that says all you mosquitoes with yellow fever can't bite me. Malaria mosquitoes...go right ahead.'"

9:00 PM. Land at the Nairobi airport. It's dark out. Somewhere in route we gained two more hours. Our bodies are now thoroughly confused as to what time zone we are standing in. We exit the aircraft to find a surprisingly robust airport. (To everyone who's been to Zambia: this was no Lusaka airport. More on that later...) Everyone rushes to the Port Health desk where we turn in our swine flu surveys. "Check the 'yes' box if you've had a fever, sore throat, or cough in the past two weeks." Who's actually going to check yes?

9:30 PM. Luggage time. Luggage carts are free here. Miraculously all 6 of our overweight bags made it to Nairobi. Thank you, Jesus. The two of us along with several students from RVA (Rift Valley Academy - the school for missionary kids) are picked up by Samuel, a quiet man who works at Mayfield Guest House. NO idea how all of our luggage is going to fit in the van, but it does. (Probably because we tied about 16 suitcases to the top of the van with bungee cords.) We all climb into the van, exhausted. Samuel starts the engine. Celine Dion is playing on the radio...somehow, I feel this is fitting. The 20 minute drive to Mayfield brings back a flood of memories from Zambia. Kenya and Zambia have so many similarities, but are so very different...

10:00 PM. Arrive at Mayfield Guest House. Alicia and I show up to our room to find schedules lying on the bed. We'll be in Nairobi until next Friday? Completely unexpected, although I'm sure it's the first of many plans that will be altered or changed. Tiny room+2 girls+6 overweight suitcases=a lot of climbing and tripping. Two words: shower time.

1:00 AM. Still completely unsure what time our bodies think it is. We both fall into bed anyway. We're in Kenya. We're in Kenya. Those words still don't register with me...not tonight anyway. Tomorrow is another day, and maybe tomorrow I won't feel like I'm moving through water. Either way...

We're in Kenya.

The last one.

See this?

This is my last Diet Dr. Pepper for a long, long time. *Sniff sniff*

Today at 5:25 Houston time I'll be sitting on a plane taking off from Newark Airport. I get to London tomorrow morning 12:25 Houston time, and I leave for Nairobi four hours later.

As of 12:30 Thursday afternoon, I will be living in Kenya.

No idea on the length of time yet...we're still waiting on some information before that decision can be made. But no matter how long we are in Africa, God is still the same. He is faithful, never confusing, and loves us more than we can begin to comprehend. Only He knows how long we'll be there and what we'll be doing...isn't that all that really matters?

Prayer requests:

- Safe travel. Lots of planes, lots of opportunities for stuff to go wrong, and lots of time to lose luggage.

- That all of our luggage would make it to Nairobi safely and with nothing missing. British Airways is notorious for losing luggage, and African airports are notorious for taking whatever they want from suitcases.

- Quick adjustment to the time in Nairobi (Kenya is 8 hours ahead of Texas)

- For orientation in Nairobi to run smoothly, and for our transition to Korr to be smooth and safe as well.

Thank you for all of your prayers and encouraging notes, emails, and letters...they mean so much to me. I'm feeling your prayers in a very real way.

P.S. If you want to check out some neat blogs, check out Danielle's: http://www.daniellesafricandiscoveries.blogspot.com/

She's here at training with us and she'll be spending the next year teaching in Southern Sudan!

Or, if you want to read about where I'm going, check out Hillary's blog: http://hellohillary.blogspot.com/

Hillary has been in Korr for the last seven months and left just a few weeks ago. I've been reading (stalking) her blog all year...she has some truly wonderful things to say about what the Lord is doing in Korr.

Send me some love!

A lot of people have been asking if/how they can send me packages while I'm in Korr. The following is what I pulled off of AIM's website. Hope it helps :)

Here are some helpful hints concerning sending packages to our AIM missionaries on the field.

1.) We have a system for sending packages through Pearl River to our mission family on the field. We do most of this by way of air freight. You can send a package to Pearl River, and we will forward it on by this method. Please address the package this way: Name of Missionary, Africa Inland Mission, 135 West Crooked Hill Rd., Pearl River, New York, 10965. Send the package to us by way of United Parcel Service (UPS) or through the regular post (USPS).

2.) We work on a first-in, first-out basis, with priority being given to ministry related items. Please be patient - we handle the things that arrive here as quickly as we can, but depending on how much comes in here, we can have a considerable back-log of things at certain times. However, it is still usually faster sending packages this way rather than through the post.

3.) When you send a package through Pearl River, the missionary receiving it will have to pay shipping charges on it if you don't cover it for them. In the case of sending things that the missionary requested, this if fine. However, if you are sending gifts, please send money to cover the shipping costs involved. The way to do this is to send a check made payable to Africa Inland Mission, under separate cover, to the attention of the shipping department. Please do not attach your check to the package. You can estimate that the missionary may have to pay about $7.00 per pound for air freight they receive. (This is an estimate as the charges are broken down in Africa). We deposit the check into the missionary's transmission account, which is their personal checking account. No allocations are taken from the money for home administration, and you will not receive a tax deductible receipt. It is not treated as a donation, but as a payment. This payment only gets the package to Nairobi - there could be additional charges to send it on to the actual station it is going to.

4.) Please bear in mind that we are serving about 800-900 missionaries this way. If you are sending packages, we cannot tell you how long it will take for them to be sent, or to arrive. If you are sending Christmas gifts, we cannot guarantee that they will reach their destination by Christmas. It is best to have them here in Pearl River by the end of September if you want them to have a good chance of getting there in time for Christmas. It is best to keep gifts small. We would also encourage you to please NOT wrap the individual gifts that you send in a package. We have to open each one here in order to create packing lists for each shipment. They may also be torn open to be searched through when going through Customs in Africa. If you want to send gift paper, a good tip is to buy those wrapped, flat sheets of paper, which can be easily packed along with the unwrapped gifts inside your package.

5.) If you have any questions we can be reached at 845-735-4014. Ask for Keith Barber or Sarah Carter and we will be happy to answer any questions you might think of.