Update

Unbelievable.

I've been home 10 days, and I have a job, roommates, and a possible place to live for the next year.

We serve a really, really great God. As of Friday morning, I am the proudest new math teacher in Bryan, TX!

Through a random series of events and timings that only the Lord could orchestrate, I've got a job teaching math at my number one choice for schools. After a 15 minute interview.

FIFTEEN. MINUTES. He alone deserves the praise for this.

And I could NOT be more excited :)

Well, I'm out of shampoo...

...so it must be time to head home.

Tutaonana badi Kenya.

It's been real swell.

We've had our share of differences, yes...like that time that I had dysentery or when I had to watch hunting spiders battle to the death while perched atop a chair yelling in Rendille the only expression I knew to show how much I hated it - "MADOONO!" (I don't like!). Or how we ate mutton for a straight month because we ran out of food, or when I thought I was going to die out in the bush from a growling hyena that actually turned out to be a wild dog. Also...I'm just saying, Kenya, but your so-called roads? They need just a little bit of work. I have the bruises to prove it.

But it's been so, so worth it. A GIANT blessing, actually...to be here in this crazy country with the amazing privilege of serving the Lord in a place only He, in His infinite ways, could call me to.

If you'd told me last year that I would be living in a place like Korr when I came to Africa I would've told you that you were straight-up crazy.

Except, I wouldn't trade the last 8 months for anything.

Yes, LORD, walking in the way of your laws,

we wait for you;

Your name and renown

are the desire of our hearts.

[Isaiah 26:8]

It's not a big deal, but..

In the last 3 weeks I have:

- kissed a giraffe (Allen the giraffe and I are good friends now)

- pet 3 baby cheetahs at Nairobi Animal Orphanage (we were let inside the cages...while they were feeding...oops?)

- snorkeled in the Indian Ocean (we saw 3 sting rays and lots of pretty fish, but our boat driver and crew were, shall we say, shady?)

- ridden a camel (they're much taller than they look)

- rafted the Nile River (not to mention that I choked and swallowed quite a bit of it)

- seen Lake Victoria (but refused to swim in it for a variety of health reasons...)

- been on safari and seen lions, leopards, cheetahs, elephants, rhinos, flamingos, hippos, hyenas, jackals, water buffaloes, giraffes...

- spent some sweet time with fellow short-termers serving all over Africa and had opportunities to encourage and pray for each other

And tomorrow, I head home to a country full of properly paved roads, high speed internet access, diet dr. pepper, and more fish tacos than I could ever want to eat.

Yeah...that's going to be a weird contrast.

Saying goodbyes, Part 2

I'm going to go ahead and apologize now for how scatterbrained this post will probably be.

I was doing okay. I've been saying goodbyes for the last week. So as we sat perched atop White Hill to watch the sun rise this morning - departure day - I figured I would be okay.

Ha.

We were sitting down to eat lunch today with Nick & Lynne when we heard the plane overhead. The plane that was coming to come pick us up and bring us down to Nairobi for the school holiday....the plane that I would be leaving Korr on. What to do? Solution: grab food and go. So we grab bowls, some rice, and some stew that's literally still cooking on the stove, and climb into the back of the Land Cruiser. About 10 more people jump in the back with us. I was perched on the tailgate, holding on to the side with my elbow, balancing my bowl in hand and tried to eat as we drove over the bumpy desert road to the airstrip...gives new meaning to the phrase "fast food."

We arrive at the airstrip to find that we are the only passengers on this 6-seater plane. The pilot weighs our bags and manages to fit it all as everyone who has come out to the airstrip crowds around to watch. Random Rendille kids show up. Still more people arrive, wanting to say their goodbyes to the four white women - one of whom is leaving for good.

I cannot even begin to describe how hard saying all of those goodbyes was. Students are hugging me and Rendille mamas are kissing my cheeks and showering Rendille blessings over me and I'm fine...or at least I tell myself that. Nick & Lynne embrace me in a long hug, say some things to me that I cannot remember, and suddenly it hits me that I may never see these two amazing, amazing people again and that means I may never see ANY of these people again and suddenly I'm trying to hold back my tears so that no one will see my emotions. We climb into the airplane, the pilot buckles us in and adjusts our seats according to weight so that the plane can take off. It feels like everything is in a haze. A few of our students have their faces pressed up against the glass, watching our every move and waving goodbye over and over again. I can't do this. I pull out my camera to take some last minute photos of them - it's as much of a distraction as I can come up with. Then the pilot shuts the door, starts up the engine like we're driving a car or something, and then we're taxiing down the airstrip, and everyone is waving and blowing kisses and I'm waving back and then suddenly

We're gone.

And I'm bawling.

I don't know why, but I didn't expect that. I didn't expect that I would cry for the first 20 minutes of our flight. I didn't expect that my heart would be so heavy - so heavy at the thought of never seeing any of these people again. So heavy at the reality of so many students who still don't know Jesus. And so heavy at knowing that for whatever reason, God is calling me home...and that even now, I do not understand why He has done this.

For about a week now I've been saying goodbyes. I had to say goodbye to 3/4 of my students on my birthday. I've been saying goodbyes to everyone in town for the last few days. I guess I thought that today would be no different - it hasn't felt real yet, because even though I was saying goodbye, I was still in Korr.

It's real now.

And now I'm in Nairobi and it all feels like a dream. It feels like a 7 month long dream that I was living in this desert corner of the world...because being in Nairobi surrounded by other short-termers feels so normal.

But Korr was my normal. Walking 6 miles a day through the desert heat just to get to school and back, eating mutton for every meal, wearing the same 3 ankle-length skirts every day, responding to "Madam" like it was my real name was my normal.

And in three weeks' time, I will leave Africa - maybe, for good this time - and I will find myself back in Texas. Adjusting to a new normal again.

But my heart will be forever changed. It's been imprinted by my time here. My students, my Rendille family, the missionaries I've served alongside - they've all left an imprint on my heart. An imprint that has forever changed how I view the Lord and how He is moving through the nations. An imprint that has left me feeling so burdened to pray for the Rendille. Because despite their pride and their stubbornness, He WILL reign in their hearts. He will humble them, because He loves them so much that He humbled himself to die for them. He continues to humble me by removing my own pride and stubbornness.

Trust in him at ALL times, O people;

pour out your hearts to him,

for God is our REFUGE.

[Psalm 62:8]

Saying goodbyes.

Our last night with our students before they left for the holidays was, needless to say, an emotion-filled one. Alicia wrote a fantastic blog about it, so I'm just going to refer you to it because I honestly don't know that I could write about it and not cry.

Enjoy!

Day 90

Happy 24th

It's physics, Madam.

Esther: "Madam, in physics we learned that the color white reflects light and the color black absorbs light. So that means that your skin reflects light."

Me: [takes of shoe to show the world's worst Chaco tan - seriously - and rolls up sleeve to show hilarious, ridiculous farmer's tan] "No, Esther. My skin absorbs light. Just like yours. See?"

Esther: "But Madam. It's Physics!"

The Rendille are an incredibly proud people. They walk with their backs straight and their heads held high. They also believe they are ALWAYS right - even when they aren't. Esther really, really believed that my white skin reflects the sun.

[Duh, Madam. It's physics.]

I've never read Twilight, but I saw/was forced to see New Moon in theaters in Nairobi last December. You know the scene where what's-her-face - Bella? - goes to tackle Edward from exposing his sparkly skin to the world, which would apparently kill him if he actually does it? And how is skin makes rainbows all around him because it reflects so much sunlight?

That's what I think of when Esther tells me my skin reflects sunlight.

AWESOME.

That means my students think I'm a vampire.

I can't bow low enough...

There's this song by Phil Wickham called "Cielo" - if you've never heard it before I highly suggest that you download it.

Here are the lyrics:

I'm walking through the bright white gates

breathing in and out your grace

all around me melodies rise

that echo with the joy inside

so I start to sing

but I cant sing loud enough

I can't sing loud enough

when I'm singing for You my God

I can't sing loud enough

I can't sing loud enough

when I'm singing for You my God

with a thunder roll and a brilliant light

your glory boasts and the heavens shine

the saints and angels stand in awe

captured by the beauty of it all

so I fall to my knees

but I can't bow low enough

I can't bow low enough

at the vision of You my God

I can't bow low enough

I can't bow low enough

at the vision of You my God

I can't hold it all inside

I'm reaching for the One who brought me out of death and into life

but I can't lift my hands high enough

life my hands high enough

when I'm reaching for You my God

I can't lift my hands high enough

life my hands high enough

when I'm reaching for You my God

oh I'm reaching for You my God

I'm reaching for You

I'm reaching for You

I'm reaching for You my God

This song has been on repeat on my ipod for the last few days.

I can't believe I'm leaving Korr. I'm in straight up denial about it - the thought of never seeing so many people here again makes me want to cry. No...scratch that. I already have cried quite a few times - and I've barely begun saying my goodbyes.

But at the same time, my God is so, so good. He has given me a perfect peace about leaving - I am fully confident that my impending departure is as He's always planned it would be. I haven't always been able to see that, but the Lord is so faithful to provide everything in His own perfect timing.

I could never worship the Lord enough for what He has done in the past 7 months. Never. I could never bow low enough, sing loud enough, or lift my hands high enough to express it. It's just not possible. Yes, He has dragged me through fire on about a million (that's a rough estimate) different levels. Yes, it has not always been easy. But above all else, HE is good. He is worthy of ALL the honor and ALL of the praise. Because I would not be here today without His never-ending love and grace.

He has loved, rebuked, moved, revealed, blessed, and disciplined me. He has removed so much of my pride - pride in my own abilities, pride in my plans, pride in the control I laughingly assume I have over my own life. He's still working on replacing it all with Him. He's created in me a desire to know Him more...more than I ever thought possible.

If you ask any Rendille which is worse: hunger or thirst, they will ALWAYS say thirst. The Rendille are so thirsty for Christ in their lives. Some don't even realize what they're thirsting for is Jesus. But He is moving here and revealing Himself in more ways than anybody dreamed possible.

I want to be thirsty for Christ like that. I want to need Him like I need water. For mere survival. You won't get far out here in the desert without water. And I pray that as I am returning to a nation with more abundance than this world has ever known that I won't forget this valuable lesson learned out here in the desert.

My soul finds rest in God alone;

my salvation comes from him.

He alone is my rock and my salvation;
he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

[Psalm 62:1-2]

Musings of a nomad

I cannot believe that in just 10 days I will be hopping on a plane and leaving Korr for good.

There are days where I think that I could do this forever - days where, even if I've been sweating since 6 AM and I'm eating mutton for the fifth time that week, that I am reminded of just how blessed and lucky I am to be here. My students...I will never, ever have a class as special, as hardworking, or as inspiring as them again. Ever. I feel like I'm finally, after six months, beginning to really get somewhere in relationships with them. That I'm finally settling in and getting comfortable with my surroundings and acclimating to the desert heat. That maybe, just maybe, my knowledge of Rendille is finally reaching a point where people don't laugh at me when I try to talk to them. Days where my heart feels so full from living here that it could burst.

I have family here. I have friends here - friends I dearly love and admire. Friends that inspire me to pursue Jesus more passionately and more faithfully. Family like my Rendille mama that invites us over for Sunday dinner and cooks us fried chicken because she knows mzungus love chicken. I have friends here that don't speak the same heart language as me - but we share a passion and a love for Jesus, and that is all that really matters.

To the Rendille, I am not Jamie Bauknight. When they ask me, "ati ah goobah?" or "ako keyya?" (what clan are you?/ who is your family?) I respond with "Ani a Sibiiryan Labarakwe" - my given Rendille first name with my adoptive family's last name. The point has been reached where the sight of me walking through town to and from school doesn't make people do double-takes anymore. Where instead of children shouting "Mzungu!" at me, they shout "Sibiiryan!"

This has become my home. And with that, I think, "this is where I belong."

But then I have these moments where the Lord reminds me that I don't actually belong here. Moments where, as I'm sitting in a classroom proctoring a midterm exam, I look around at all of my students and think to myself, "oh, right. They're AFRICANS." Moments where I am reminded that I am one of six Westerners living among these 20,000+ Rendille. Times when cross-cultural clashes happen and I want to bang my head against a wall in frustration. Days where, as I'm walking through the desert heat in the afternoons to go back and teach my afternoon class, I understand all too well why God didn't put light-skinned people to live in the desert along the equator.

In a sense, I don't belong here.

Yet God has placed me here...with His purpose and in His perfect timing. He also never said that following Him would be easy. "Denying myself to take up my cross and follow Him" doesn't breed feelings of relief or ease. There have been times where I've felt so out of my element it's comical. Days where I have literally felt like I'm being dragged across hot coals. He has changed me, stretched me, refined me, and then repeated the whole process over. Over, and over, and over again.

I'm not coming home the same person I was when I left. I may not belong here, but I certainly don't fully belong back in the culture I left either.

I've become something of a nomad. Just like the Rendille.

But here's the thing: none of us belong here. This world is not our home...it was never meant to be. The Gospel isn't comfortable: it's radical, life-altering, and involves a complete transformation of self. Because as you accept this gift of eternal life through Christ, you must completely die to your old self and old ways. It shouldn't be comfortable. Even after salvation. As Christians, we should never. be. comfortable. Because we are called to be lights in a dark world. As followers of Christ, we should be standing out because of the faith and hope that we proclaim....and that means being uncomfortable for the sake of the Gospel.

Christ never said it would be easy. But He does promise that our reward is to be sons and daughters of the Most High. As I'm preparing to leave one home to head back to another, it is a comfort to know that it's okay that I don't fully fit in anywhere this side of heaven.

May your unfailing love be my comfort,
according to your promise to your servant.

[Psalm 119:76]

We were made not primarily that we may love God (though we were made for that too) but that God may love us, that we may become objects in which the Divine love may rest "well-pleased." To ask that God's love should be content with us as we are is to ask that God should cease to be God: because He is what He is, His love must, in the nature of things, be impeded and repelled by certain stains in our present character, and because He already loves us He must labor to make us lovable.

[C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain]

Reign down on us.

I remember having a conversation with Kakume, our principal, last September about what happens in Korr after the rainy season.

"Korr is so much green!" he told me. "Everything, it all turns green. Korr becomes very beautiful after the rains."

To be honest, I didn't believe him. After all, this was what I saw every day:

Barren, rocky desert. Everything was dead or dying. We were in the middle of one of the worst droughts northern Kenya has seen in the past 20 years...and it wasn't just the plants that were dying. Hundreds of people showed up on Nick & Lynne's doorstep every morning, begging for a few shillings to buy tea leaves for chai...anything to fill an empty stomach. Many herds dwindled down from dozens of animals to a mere handful. The previous "long" rainy season had produced a mere 30 minute shower. Waking up to this sight every morning for the first 7 weeks we were in Korr did not exactly get me too excited about the upcoming "short" rainy season. "How green can it possibly get with just a few showers?" I thought. "What good will that honestly do?"

Boy, was I wrong.

About a week after it rained here, green stuff started to sprout up everywhere.

I mean, everywhere.

Where growth had been seemingly nonexistent before, sprouts were springing up. Life was beginning where it had once seemed impossible to exist. Plants and bushes that had once looked dead now had green leaves sprouting out all over the place. Even the thorn bushes turned a beautiful shade of green!

This picture was taken a week after it rained. It's the SAME shot as the one above it!

It is absolutely astounding what happens out here in the desert with 5 hours' worth of rain showers.

The Rendille are a proud people. They walk with their heads held high. They know what they believe. And they are always right - whether it be about religion or the color of the sky or cell phones - they are always, always right.

So when Nick & Lynne showed up 30 years ago and began to introduce the Gospel to a people who had previously never heard of Jesus Christ, you can guess what happened. They resisted. Their pride would simply not allow them to believe in such a thing. Elders and warriors would not even listen to the evangelists speak. It's been this way for 30 years.

Until now. There is a revival going on here in Korr. For the last few months, church has been full to the point of overflowing every Sunday. Evangelists are going out to the goobs and the elders are listening. Warriors are coming to know Christ...something that Nick, Lynne, and the few believers here have been praying for for THIRTY YEARS. People are standing on their doorstep and begging for literacy classes to come to their goobs. "Please!" they beg. "We want to learn! We have somebody here who says he will be our teacher...teach him and he will teach us!"

Life is being born - in a place where it once seemed impossible. This barren, rocky desert is seeing growth like it's never, ever seen before. Seeds that have lain dormant for years are now sprouting up for all to see. Seeds in a ground that seemed utterly impossible to foster growth are suddenly blossoming into beautiful green flowers and plants.

He is raining down here on these people in the desert. The Gospel is beginning to take root. Where there was once pride, there is humility. Where there was once utter barrenness, there is vibrant life peeking through. Where there was once hopelessness, there is Hope. Hope in a God who saves. Hope in a God who provides. Hope in a God who loves them so much he would humble himself to death on a cross.

Praise the Lord that He will reign here. Pray for hearts to continue to be changed. Pray for those seeds that have been planted. Pray for growth.

Pray for the Rendille.

Snapshots of a bush missionary

*SNAP*

As I collect donation money during Tirrim Secondary School's fundraiser, traditional Rendille church members hand me handfuls of change - literally, all of the money they have to their name - to help these nomadic children receive a better education.

*SNAP*

It's the evening, and I am sitting inside of a truck tire that is perched on top of a lorry. The teachers and students all around me are singing praises to our God as we drive underneath the starlit Kenyan night sky.

*SNAP*

One of my students: "Madam! When you arrived in Korr you did not have those red bumps on your face. Now, you have many?"

"Yes, Elias. Those 'red bumps' are called acne. It's because all I ever do here is sweat."

*SNAP*

I feel like a proud parent when one of my students, who historically has struggled in math class, finally grasps the concept we are learning about that day. "Madam! Another one!" the rest of my students enthusiastically shout - 'another one' meaning they want me to give them another math problem to work out in class. I will never have students this eager to learn or grateful for their education as my students are now, ever again.

*SNAP*

I watch as traditional Rendille women during church slide from their seats down to squat on the floor, where they are more comfortable. It's all they've ever known - squatting on the hard, dusty ground.

*SNAP*

It's 2:oo PM and I'm walking back to school to teach my lone afternoon class for the week. It's the hottest time of the day, and even the Rendille are doing their best to move as little as possible and stay in the shade. I get many funny looks as I truck it up to school through the heat of the afternoon.

*SNAP*

We all feel frustrated yet again with our struggles to communicate in Rendille to our night guard Essimbassele. He speaks no English, and we only understand limited Rendille. What we thought was a spider bite turns out to be just a bad bump from running his leg into our table.

*SNAP*

As I'm taking what my students call "singles" (pictures of them individually), their serious faces quickly turn into ridiculous, crazy poses that even Tyra Banks would be proud of.

*SNAP*

Walking home from school means I will be fist-bumping along the way a minimum of 25 kids' fists. It's taken 6 months, but they're finally calling me by my Rendille name ("Siberyan!") instead of the generic "Mzungu!" I am followed by choruses of "How are YOUUUU?" and "bye byeeee!" nearly everywhere I walk.

*SNAP*

Two of our students come over on their outing time and we offer them refrigerated water to drink. They struggle to drink it, making pained faces as they do, because the water is simply too cold for them to put in their mouth.

*SNAP*

It's a beautiful evening and we decide to walk to the top of White Hill, which is a hill right on the edge of Korr. A parade of Korr kids follows us to the top. One boy, Anitommo, grabs a hold of my hand with the biggest ear-to-ear grin I have ever seen. He absolutely refuses to let go of my hand for the rest of the evening - even going so far as to assault another little boy who tried to sneak his hand in while he wasn't looking.

*SNAP*

I'm teaching Bible class and I ask for a volunteer to read a few verses from Exodus. 3 of our Muslim students get their hands in the air faster than anything I've ever seen. My heart breaks for them - are they simply excited to read out loud in class or is God stirring their hearts to a more intimate knowledge of Him?

*SNAP*

We're sleeping out in the goobs - sleepover with Khasso? Doesn't get much better than that. As Nick reads from the book of Mark in Rendille, I lie back on the ground, stare up at the millions of twinkling stars, and am reminded of just how small I really am and how magnificent our God truly is. Goob kids surround me, trying to (not so) subtlety touch my skin and hair. Life here is so simple...just how it was intended to be.

*SNAP*

It's 30 minutes later and Claire and I sneak out of the goob to go, as the Kenyans say it, "take a short call." As I'm squatting in the pitch dark next to a bush, I hear a low guttural growl not 50 feet to my left. It sounds just like a hyena...and all that is racing through my mind is 'I'm going to die out in the bush mid-pee?' I fumble for my flashlight...it's just a sick Rendille dog. Praise. The. Lord.

*SNAP*

Sunday afternoon and we're sitting in Claire & Alicia's Rendille mama Nariyo's min, sipping chai and joking about marrying Alicia off to a warrior for a dowry of 8 camels. I tell Nariyo that I am leaving to go back home to America at the end of the term and that I don't know when I will see her again after that. "Do you love Jesus?" she asks. "Yes." "Well I love Jesus too, so we will always be together in our hearts." She then asks me to not forget the Rendille...to tell everyone in American about them and to be praying for them. "There are so few believers here...pray that God will move in their hearts. We still have so much work left to do."

"Do not forget us."

No, Nariyo. I will never forget the Rendille.

30 days.

30 days is all that I have left here in Korr. 30 days to take as many snapshots and make as many memories as possible...30 days left with 64 students who have managed to capture my heart in ways I never imagined possible. 30 days until I head down country and become a tourist for 3 weeks. 30 days until I have to worry about the "real world"...although I'm pretty sure that this is more "real" than anything else I'll ever experience.

Can I be so honest? I don't have a clue what I'm doing when I get home. I have my desires for what I want to do, yes...but only the Lord knows what to do with them. Right now, all I do know is I have 30 days here in Korr to be used as the Lord sees fit.

Right now, that is more than enough.

My life has now come full circle.

Favorite student quote from student teaching last spring:

[Talking about me teaching in Africa for the next year]

Student 1: "Naw, but for real, Miss, you gon' come back changed."

Student 2: "No, she's gonna come back BLACK!"

Yesterday:

Student: [after looking at my ridiculous chaco tan and seeing the skin color my feet were before coming to Korr] "MADAM! Your skin is turning black like ours!"

Yessssssssss.

"Take care!" or "How I Spent my Midterm Break"

Well, if you were guessing what how I spent my Sunday, and you guessed that I spent 12 hours riding precariously perched atop of the African equivalent of an 18-wheeler with 65 other people, you guessed correctly.

Every midterm break we take our students on a retreat of sorts. In Kenya, "retreat" means "get out of Korr for a day, make a ridiculous amount of food, and play lots of games." Last term we went to Ngurunit, which is a tiny town in the mountains about an hour southwest of Korr. This time, we decided to go to South Horr instead (google it! IT'S ON THE MAP!).

Now, don't get me wrong - South Horr was SO fun (and GORGEOUS), but it's about a 5-6 hour drive away from Korr. This wouldn't be so bad...if this were America. But this is Africa, and here in Korr we are about 4 hours in the opposite direction away from "paved roads." (I use that term VERY loosely...these paved roads are historically known as some of the worst in Africa. And that's saying something.) So 12 hours in a car, bumping along as our driver follows two tire tracks in the sand, driving over rocks, through dried river beds, and around hairpin curves in the mountains does not make for a relaxing drive.

We rented a lorry for our trip. We needed to get 64 students, 12 teachers, and 2 cooks to South Horr/Kurungu - and although Africans can squeeze into cars better than clowns in a circus car, taking two pickups like we did last term was NOT an option.

So we took this instead:

[Don't worry Mom...I'm alive, just a little more bruised than usual. I didn't tell you about this part until now because I figured you would worry :) ]

Typically on one of these things, the back is used for storing and transporting animals, while anybody who hops on for a ride sits perched up where I'm sitting in the picture. You sit across one bar and hold on tight with one or both hands to the bars around you - because once the lorry starts driving, it gets pretty bumpy up there!

We left Korr at 4 AM on Sunday. Alicia and I sat down in the back while Ruth rode in the cab and Claire rode up top. The students brought mattresses and laid them down in the back to sit and sleep on, but as the sun rose they all wanted to sit up top on the bars instead.

By the time we arrived in South Horr just after 9 AM nearly all of our 64 students were riding up top (gives the term "top-heavy" a WHOLE new meaning). Alicia and I had hopped up there a few hours before because we wanted to feel the breeze and see the GORGEOUS view as we drove through the Ndoto mountains. We had a LOT of carsick students along the trip - I'd go as far to say that half of them threw up at some point on the journey. Poor guys...they almost never ride in cars, and this bumpy lorry ride was almost too much for their stomachs to handle. But OH how much they loved hanging (literally) out on top of the lorry!

The only bad thing about riding on top? Having to duck to avoid low-hanging thorn bushes and trees. There were two or three times that the thorns were so bad that EVERYBODY on top of the lorry had to get off and walk while the lorry drove through. John, one of the teachers at school with us, had a giant hole ripped in his shirt and his back pretty badly mangled by these nasty thorns. Even with everyone shouting "take care!" (that's Kenyan for "watch out!") to warn everyone else that an acacia tree branch was quickly approaching, we all got decently scratched up and cut. Oh well...this IS Africa!

Hangin' out on top of the lorry...and talking on our cells. Just another day in north Kenya!

As we pulled into South Horr, any teacher or student who owned a cell phone immediately whipped it out and began talking on it. South Horr has a cell phone tower...glorious! I was back on the grid for 7 hours and managed to text my parents and Kendall...all of the numbers I really had in my phone.

I could get used to waking up to views like this every day...

All of the green everywhere against a backdrop of beautiful mountains was a sight for our tired desert eyes. Did I mention it was in the mid-70's here? During the DAY!? After sweating it out in Korr this was a much welcomed break!

We spent the morning attending church at AIC Kurungu. We were in Samburu country, so the service was conducted in Samburu. Our students REALLY enjoyed it - most speak Samburu and not Rendille, so they're about as keyed in at church here in Korr (where the service is conducted in Rendille) as I am. They even sang a few songs for the congregation in Samburu! I may be a little biased, but I think TSS's choir is just about one of the best around :)

After church, we headed back to the AIM missionary's compound in Kurungu and drank a lot of chai, cooked a delicious lunch of rice, camel stew, and chipattis, and played quite a few games. Claire found a tree with these beautiful flowers on it, and gave one to each of the girls with us. The girls LOVED them!

Ann was creative in how she wore her flower.

You WOULD have two flowers.

Alicia and I taught our students again how to play "This is so much fun." (which they loooooove...thank you, Impact) and "Down by the Banks," which is a hand-clapping game we played back in elementary school.

There was also a rope swing on the compound - created literally hours of fun for everybody. Whoever was on the swing was surrounded by students trying to push you as high as you could possibly go...which is pretty darn high.

After cleaning up and a quick group picture, we hopped back on the lorry and drove back to Korr. I spent most of the ride back perched on top of the spare tire that was lashed to the top of the lorry.

It was a LONG day, but SO fun. Our students really enjoyed getting to see a new place - no one had been to South Horr/Kurungu before. I would definitely go back to South Horr, but hopefully won't need to ride a lorry anywhere again any time in the near future :)

Ministry Update

I sent out an email about this, but for those of you who aren't on my email update list - here is an update on some of the details of the length of my stay here in Korr:

About six weeks before Alicia and I were to leave for Kenya, I began to seriously question my length of commitment to teach three terms of school in Korr. (Kenya's school system operates on a trimester basis - students spend three months in school, then have a month off. Alicia and I originally committed to teach three terms, beginning in September 2009 and ending in July 2010 with the months of December and April being school vacation months.) But, to be completely honest, when I signed up with AIM I never seriously prayed to ask the Lord how long He wanted me to serve in Africa; I just signed up for the longest time that AIM would allow us to go.

12 days before Alicia and I left for Kenya, we discovered that our budget had been miscalculated by almost $6,000. Even though I had raised well over my original budget, I still only had enough funds to stay for two terms of school instead of three. That is, I only had enough funds to stay through the end of April instead of through the end of August as I'd originally committed to. I've been praying ever since about what all of this means and about how long the Lord truly has me in Kenya.

About a month ago God finally made His will known to me - and it was the last thing I expected. I am coming home at the end of April, when my funds run out. This has been confirmed through a ton of prayer and Scripture, as well as by the missionaries here in Korr, my supervisor in Nairobi, and the AIM office in New York.

It's not a matter of "wanting" to leave...I REALLY love it here. Tirrim Secondary School is a really special place - God is moving in big, big ways here and I've been so humbled to be used by Christ here. At the same time, I am confident that this is the Lord's will for me - and I trust Him enough to know that I will try to be obedient to His plan for me, even if I don't fully understand it. God doesn't "need" me here in Kenya to accomplish His will and purpose for His kingdom, but He has chosen to bless me with the opportunity to BE used. Whether I'm here or not, Christ's name WILL be glorified here among the Rendille. I have no idea if I'll ever be back to Africa - I am completely open to coming back if God calls me back, but right now I don't see that in the near future. It's strange - the last 2 1/2 years of my life it's like there's been this neon sign pointing towards Africa. As this chapter comes to a close, I can honestly say I haven't a CLUE what is next - but I know He knows and that He is faithful, and that is more than enough.

I have six weeks left in Korr before I head down country to do some traveling and debriefing before I head back to the States, and I cannot BELIEVE how the time has flown by. If you would like, please pray for the remainder of my time here in Korr - may the Lord use me how He sees fit, and may I be willing to do whatever He asks of me. And, if you have any questions about this or anything else that's the Lord is doing here in Korr and how you could play a part in it, please don't hesitate to email me.

Waakh ki gargaaro! (May God cover you)

Jamie

Rooma...it wasn't built in a day.

Last Saturday night Nick & Lynne were over at our house visiting with us when some people showed up to talk to them.

In walks Indubayyo (in-dew-BYE-oh), one of the ladies from church. She begins talking rather animatedly to Nick. Lynne tells us that she's asking Nick about how the translation of Romans is coming. Nick and his team have been working on the translation of Romans for over a year now, and for the next 3 weeks Nick will be down in Nairobi working with a consultant, revising and editing what we are all praying is the final draft of Romans.

Indubayyo is a stunningly beautiful woman with an even more beautiful testimony. This woman cannot help but beam as she talks about Jesus. Indubayyo can tell you the exact verse in Mark that she read from the Rendille translation that led her to a relationship with Jesus Christ. It had such an impact on her that she named one of her children Marko..."Mark" in Rendille. Indubayyo's job as an evangelist for the church is to walk from goob to goob, sharing with them who Jesus Christ is and what it means to be a Christian. There couldn't be a more perfect job for this amazing woman.

(To read more about Indubayyo, PLEASE read this)

(Photo credit: Andy Brown, AIM On Field Media)

Everywhere Indubayyo goes she carries with her the Rendille Scriptures. I wish I had a picture of this bag and the pages she keeps tucked away inside. Her Rendille New Testament books - the ones Nick and his team have finished translating - are worn to pieces. Tattered pages, worn covers. These books have been well-loved and used often. Lynne told us she refuses to accept new books...she says that these books are too precious to replace.

Indubayyo asked Nick how Romans is coming. She cannot WAIT to for the book to be complete! A few months ago, Nick was in Nick gave her a photocopy of Romans to use when she evangelizes. Saturday night, as she was talking to Nick about the translation of Romans, I was convicted of how much I really take for granted.

Indubayyo reached into her bag and pulled out this same photocopy Nick gave her months ago. The several pages she has are tattered and falling to pieces. Indubayyo carefully and tenderly unfolded it. She treated it as if it was the most precious thing she owned.

Indubayyo, like the rest of the Rendille, is thirsty for God's word. Thirsty doesn't begin to describe what these men and women feel when they think of the Bible. Traditional Rendille culture is very much like the Old Testament. A group of people wandering around in the desert? Hello, Rendille. Sacrifices? They have those. Clean and unclean animals? Yep, they have those too. Camels? Herds of animals? Pastoralists? Check, check, and check. In fact, two of the very first books ever translated into Rendille were Genesis and Exodus chapters 1-20...because the Rendille can relate to them very easily.

But, unlike you and me, they don't have access to the entire Bible in their mother tongue. They don't have access to everything the Bible has to say about Jesus Christ being the ultimate sacrifice. Traditional Rendille like Indubayyo only speak one language - Rendille. A Bible in any other language is worthless to them. Nick and his team have been working almost thirty years on translating the Scriptures into Rendille, and it hasn't been an easy process. Before translation even began, Nick had to write down Rendille as a language. Because before Nick and Lynne came, Rendille was purely a spoken language - no one had ever written it down before.

In 30 years they've just finished 86% of the New Testament. But because it is so expensive to print, only a few books are actually available until they complete the NT and bind it all in one book.

Can you imagine your life without your Bible? In the West we have about 18 million options for our Bible. NIV? ESV? NASB? The list of acronyms could go on for days. The Message? Study Bible? Backpack Bible? Red letter Bible? Student Bible? What color do you want the cover to be? What kind of material? How about the pages? That's not even asking how many Bibles we all own. I mean, me personally, I own about 5. I don't really need 5, nor do I even know where some of them are.

Can you imagine your Bible without Romans? What a rich, heavy book. How about without the entire Old Testament? I can't even imagine. Psalms, Isaiah, Deuteronomy...gone. Ecclesiastes, Job, and Daniel are a figment of your imagination. Jeremiah doesn't even exist.

For the Rendille, anyway. Or for 2,392 other languages spoken in the world without access to ANY of the Bible in their mother tongue. The number of people that affects? 200 million.

I wish I had as much thirst for the Word as Indubayyo does.

Pray for the translation project. Pray for Nick and his team...they left for Nairobi yesterday to work with a consultant to finalize the book of Romans, or "Rooma" in Rendille. Pray for funding to continue the translation project. They are SO close to completing the New Testament!

Pray for the Rendille.

Living in Korr is...

Needing to speak 3 languages on any given day to be able to communicate. (Rendille, English, AND Swahili)

Walking past herds of camels in the morning as they wait for water at the well.

Being woken up every morning at 5:00 AM by the mosque's call to prayer.

Meeting Rendille warriors in town who are dressed up in the most manliest clothes they own - pink kangas with fake flowers on their headpieces. (Don't worry...they carry mirrors with them so they can preen themselves before they come into town!)

Having to throw rocks at the goats who've broken through your fence to graze in your yard. (Not to hurt them, but to scare them out!)

Being called "Mzungu!" (white person) in town by everybody because they don't know your name.

Being called "Siberyan" (my given Rendille name) by all of the Rendille I know because "Jamie" is too hard to pronounce.

Drinking chai prepared with camel's milk during tea time at school.

Experiencing flip-flopped seasons. It's snowing in Texas? It's 100 degrees outside here.

Donkeys and goats wandering through the school yard (or trying to come into your classroom!) don't distract your students, but a car driving by has them out of their seats and peering through the window to see who's driving. (We don't have too many cars driving through Korr!)

Buying sugar in town and having to fish out the GIANT sugar ants before you can use it.

Living in a culture where wealth is not judged by how much money you have but rather by how many animals are in your herd.

Fist-bumping every child I see as I walk to and from school to say hello (because they think it's HILARIOUS, and shaking hands spreads some pretty nasty germs around here...which I may or may not have learned the hard way.)

Learning to cook sheep meat in ways I never thought were possible.

Where eating fruit or fresh vegetables is like Christmas! (The freshest vegetable we can buy in town is tomato paste, and the nearest place to buy fresh produce is a three hour drive away.)

Having students who beg you to give them more homework or quizzes because they're so excited and eager to learn.

Responding to "Madam" like it's my real first name.

Teaching mathematics and geography in somebody's old living room that's been turned into a classroom.

Being covered in chalk dust from leaning against the chalkboard too much as I teach in class - no Smart Boards here!

Teaching at a school where students are so thankful for an education that they come to school at 5 AM to study before school starts at 7:30...and study until the lights are turned out each night at 10:00 PM.

Sweating every day from 10 AM to 7 PM because it's so gosh darn HOT outside.

Having to wear ankle length skirts every day because, while toplessness is culturally acceptable among the traditional Rendille, showing your knees is most definitely not.

Having the most ridiculous Chaco tan line ever. You have one from your summer as a camp counselor? I promise it's not as bad as mine.

Knowing what fields in town will have sheep for sale in the afternoons, and how much to pay for a "good" sheep. (About $13.)

Where hunting spiders and lizards are normal wall decorations.

Waking up to the most breathtaking sunrise I've ever seen...since yesterday, that is.

Walking outside in the evening and seeing every single twinkling star in the night sky. No light pollution here...we're so far from the power grid it's comical.

Learning true selflessness from older, more experienced missionaries, who have given literally everything they have to the Rendille people.

Seeing God move through a people group that has been stubbornly resistant to the Gospel for SO long, and now suddenly is literally begging to hear more about Jesus is...and knowing that their change of heart is only from Him and in His timing alone.

Being reminded every time the wind blows and cools us down that God loves us, jealously yet sacrificially, and will provide for our every need.

Living in Korr is waking up every morning to the desert splendor of God's beautiful creation, and witnessing God moving and changing an entire generation of Rendille to live for Him instead of clinging to proud religious traditions. Where you rejoice when it rains because it brings life and abundance to the Rendille after years of harsh droughts. Where slowly, after reading through Genesis and Exodus, the Bible comes to life in the people around you and just makes so much more sense. It's being challenged and humbled by the faith of Rendille believers, who can tell you the exact verse they read in the Rendille Bible that led them to a saving knowledge of who Christ is and what He did for them on the cross. It's truly appreciating that I can read any book of the Bible I want in my own language...something millions of people across the world - including the Rendille - cannot do because the Bible has not been fully translated for them.

Living in Korr has its fair share of challenges. But those challenges fade away in knowing I have the humbling privilege of being a tool for Jesus to use however He sees fit to further His kingdom here in north Kenya. No matter the cost.

In his name the nations will put their hope.

[Matthew 12:21]

The things we take for granted

After living here in Korr for almost 5 months, there are some things that I will never take for granted again.

Like electricity, for example.

In Korr we're so far off the power grid it's ridiculous. Praise the Lord for solar panels - we are so fortunate to have electricity in Korr because of them.

However, the batteries that our solar panels charge up need lots of distilled water. LOTS. But what do 4 twenty-something girls know about solar panels and batteries and keeping them healthy and fully functioning? Next to nothing. I mean, we didn't even know we should be checking these things! Thank goodness Intebessyie thought to come over and check them for us. ALL of our batteries were stone dry. Which, apparently means they could quit working at any time.

Yikes. These batteries are EXPENSIVE. That, and you have to buy them down country and bring them up yourselves. The next time we head down south? April. So tonight, Alicia and I with the help of Bagajo (our night guard) topped off our batteries.

Thank you Jesus for providing us with electricity, and this stunning view out our front door every evening:

Apology Letters, Part 2

RE: APOLOGY FOR COMING TO CLASS LATE:

The main aim of righting this piece of paper is to argue your forgiveness by not coming to class on time. Please Madam I will never repeat to do that search mistake. I kindly wait for your sweet reply.

Yours faithfully,

Geoffrey L.

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And, my favorite thus far:

To Madam Jammie,

I apologize for coming late in your lesson. Please in your cordial heart forgive me. I reckon that you will going to forgive me.

And I will never do like that until when I have a heavy circumstance. I apologize profusely.

Thank you.

"Dear Maadam Jimmy"

Here at Tirrim Secondary we only have two classrooms - one classroom for Form 1 and one classroom for Form 2. As a result, students stay in the same classroom all day - instead of students switching classrooms for each class, the teachers rotate into the single classroom when it's their time to teach. The kids get two breaks each morning before lunch - one 5 minute break after period 3 and one 25 minute break after period 5 for chai.

Lately, most of the teachers have been having some trouble with students showing up late to class. (Side note: we have a student prefect who is in charge of ringing an actual bell to signal the end/start of class. A real bell! Love. It.) My rule has always been this: if I beat you in the door to the classroom, you are late. Since we don't have tardy sweep or d-halls at Tirrim, it's up to the teacher to decide on acceptable punishment for being late to his/her own class.

Alicia, Claire and I have all adopted pretty much the same policy for tardiness: if a student is late, they have two choices: they can either sit outside the classroom for the remainder of the class, or they may come into class and write me one paragraph on why it is disrespectful to me, their teacher, and the rest of their fellow classmates, to be tardy to class.

Last week was a hum-dinger: I had at least TEN students run past me into math class on Wednesday well after the bell had rung - and then THREE more students late on Thursday to geography class. Seeing as there are only 32 students in each class...I had a LOT of students late! I told everybody who was tardy that they owed me one paragraph on respectfulness - however, since Claire had just taught them the proper format for a letter in English class, I received 10 well-intentioned letters instead.

But, this is rural Kenya: our students don't have access to computers, let alone extra paper. We have to carefully ration exercise books out to them because we don't want to excessively waste paper when it is so hard (and expensive!) to get more. So most of my apology letters were written on carefully folded scrap notebook paper they tore out of the back of their exercise book.

One letter from Elias, a Form 1 student:

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Jimmie Backnight

APOLOGY FOR LATE COMING

I am hoply here by writing to you this apology letter on the behave of the mistake I have done to you. Madaam please forgive for what I have done to you and entire school rules. I didn't have intension to break your heart is all about the time of short break and I have to ran to the toilet. Please madaam I do promise that you will never and ever see me doing such mistake in front of you and entire school rules. I will alway respect you and follow your class rule. But madaam I know that I have done a mistake but mistake is not a mistake but when repeated. I will alway follow you rule to the day you will fly back to loving home (TEXAS)

Yours kindly,

Student Ne-yo Elias

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Elias (or Ne-yo, as he likes to be called...yes, after the American R&B singer that he loves) is a good student, and although you can't tell from his apology letter, his English is quite good. Most of our students can speak it pretty well, but writing it down is something they are still perfecting.

The next apology letter is from Jonathan, a Form 2 student. I LOVE Jonathan...he's smart, kindhearted, and very respectful. If you can picture Alicia as a male Kenyan...that's Jonathan. Meaning, while he is all of these things, he's got a bit of sass to him as well :)

(The address he used is the actual address for the Tirrim Project up here in Korr - and our mailing address. Really, it's the mailing address for anybody who lives in Korr...even though it's in Nairobi.)

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Tirrim Secondary School

P.O. Box 21028

Nairobi 00505

Kenya

Madam Jamie B

P.O. Box 21028

Nairobi 00505

Kenya

Dear Madam

RE: APOLOGY FOR COMING LATE TO YOUR CLASS

I would like to apologise to you for coming late to your class. I never intended to come late. It was not something that I deed intentionally but I was talking to a teacher when the bell rang.

Surely Madam I am very sorry for what I did. I know that you will not be happy when students come to your class late. Please Madam forgive me for what I did and I promise that I will not come late to your class unless with a strong reason that you can understand. Thank you for considering my apology.

Yours sincerely,

Jonathan

R.S.V.P. (Please Reply)

Jonathan M.

P.O. Box 21028

Nairobi 00505

Kenya

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Ahahahahaha...besides the fact that he asked me to RSVP, this is my favorite part: "I promise that I will not come late to your class unless with a strong reason that you can understand."Not, "I promise it will never happen again," but "I promise it won't happen unless I've got a really REALLY good reason."

Eh, well...at least I know that he's being honest and that he'll keep that promise!

(Also...I've been here over 4 months and Jonathan is the ONLY student who spelled my name correctly. Hmm...)