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]

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.

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]

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.

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.

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.

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 :)