Kenya via photos

The slideshow I made of pictures from our trip.

We played it during communion tonight at church, to be inclusive with the theme of Kenya and show the congregation a little of what we experienced when we were there.

What is He asking of me?

12:00pm 9.9.09 Lodwar

There was a New York Times article that just came out discussing the emergency state the Nation of Kenya is facing. The reporter had just spent a week here investigating a lot of what we have been seeing in Lodwar these past two weeks. The issues of Drought, poverty, corruption and death are all listed in this article and have been witnessed first hand by our team. But we continue to see God working in all these peoples hearts a they deal with the extremes of poverty and drought. The thing that I question is how this faith in God is separate from the financial contributions of these religious groups. JR had told us of a group of people in the interior who only support the faith that brings them the resources to live. They feel there is no love if there is no food given. That was such a strong moment for me here in Lodwar, where everywhere we go we are meeting new people who want us to help them. We meet them and get to know them and then they become comfortable with us and proceed to ask us to sponsor their children, pay for their book publishing and generally give them money. Sometimes this progression takes days of meetings and sometimes the relationship is quick in growth, within 10 minutes in come cases. It made me resentful and angry at first but I slowly came to the realization that I might do the same thing if I was in their shoes. Here come the white men who have helped various people in our community, maybe today will be my lucky day. If we think about similarity in our lives in America I only have to think of scenarios close to my profession of acting. If I don't have the money to make a picture I negotiate with producers to lend me the money. In America its business and savvy negotiating. Big hotel/casinos go up in Vegas every year by selling financiers their profit ideas and investment goals. In Kenya, lives aren't profitable, their expenses. In Kenya it's called begging and handouts and it's negatively looked down upon. Why? We are all trying to survive and the religious organizations have been the source of life here in these small villages. Why shouldn't they ask for support. Why is there shame involved?

The drought is not the only reason for lack of water in this area. The institution of dams in the Northern areas of Kenya, Southern Ethiopia, has caused an immense water shortage the for the Rift Valley. These dams are being built for irrigation and power in the north but are constructed with out any thought of the havoc it wreaks in this region. When we visited the lake yesterday the pastors wives told us that the plans for Ethiopia to build their dam on the River Omo will result in this lake slowly disappearing. They pray to God and hope He will stop it from happening. I just listen in shock and despair. Its hard to argue that God may not do anything about it because you are arguing against their coping mechanisms. If they don't have their extreme unwavering faith, what are they left with?

We were discussing this last night, the idea that the faith they possess is a bit overzealous and impossible to a lot of us. They put in Gods hand everything that happens to them here. Whether its the drought the sickness or getting work each day. They pray and hope for the best while the worst slaps them int he face everyday. But what else is there when they have such an extreme incredulous lack of power over their lives? They depend on outside forces to give them what they need because all they know resides in a Land that has been depleted of its resources. What do they do? What are our words of advice having never been faced with even a day of what these people put up with?

That's what been so frustrating with the Solis Foundation. Although this people are survivors in the worst possible conditions, their imaginations can not fathom some of the business ideas that could be of some benefit to them. So they continue to produce ideas for selling the same old thing in a town full of replicate stories who are going out of business, for lack of demand. We have all been affected by this in ways some of us still don't understand and haven't felt. But the question looms of what to do with that knowledge. What is our next step, knowing that we are only on person, one small group, one small church? How doe we move forward, and know that whatever we do is a small piece of sand in a termite hill compared to the problems facing not only this town but the majority of the countries in Africa?

We move forward, we press on, we look forward to drinking and dancing in Nairobi. We live each day with this reminder or we forget it eventually in the hustle and bustle of our life in LA. I hope for the former and pray for God to provide me with the way, the heart and the courage to persist. I awake with a new found goal each day to bring relief one step at a time to the people I have grown to love and cherish. I hope for my basket enterprise., my jewelry exporting and whatever else my feeble soul can turn into fortune for these people. I've seen it happen, I know there's a way, I just don't understand how to get there yet.

How do I return home to a life that surrounds me with excess? I move ahead with my plans of massage, of acting, of grabbing money to make a living so I can create a business that makes a living for other people. I will be committed to this idea to this new way of intentionality in my life. I will exercise everyday, eat whatever amount keeps me surviving and no more, I will drink in limited amounts and I will commit my life to t organized aid to the friends that need me. In both LA and in Africa. God calls each of us to provide a better life for someone else and that will be my focus.

10pm Tuesday Lodwar 9.8.09

Just got into bed after a very long days journey to the lake. It ended well but began quite low and had some bumps along the way.

I woke up this morning feeling a very high level of annoyance, anger and frustration at no one, and everyone. After last nights meeting about the status of Solis, and realizing my status in the group, I woke up with a bug that wouldn't go away. There has been this underlying feeling of hopelessness, powerlessness and sadness when it comes to the Solis work. None of these prospective businesses are anywhere near being viable options for our grants yet we are forces to choose from these groups. They were thrown together and haven't had any mentoring or training so although I sympathize with the director about giving the funds soon because of our two year fiasco, I think we're putting money and energy into a black hole. Fortunately they all saw it that way this morning and got it across toe everyone at the town meeting. They need mentoring, training and imaginative business ideas.

Which reminds me, I'm not letting go of my basket idea. I'm going to have to place a considerable amount of energy into it when I return home. I have aspirations to be able to make this a large exporting business, as well as use the funds for the Unembraced and to sponsor children.

After the meeting we headed to lunch with the pastors and their wives. We gave our gifts and ended up creating a small LA baseball team:) I was given a very pretty bracelet by Consolata, Charles wife. She was so helpful with the translations this morning. One of the biggest surprises is how young all these people are and how old they all look. The heat, hard labor and intense hunger can do that I guess.

So after lunch we took off on our 2 hour drive to Eliye Springs - located at the Southern end of Lake Turkana.

Jumbled thoughts

7.9.09 4:30pm

We left this morning for an hour and a half drive through Northwestern Kenya to Kakuma. The trip was to see the Refugee Camp laced there in Kakuma filled with 45000 displaced people from Ethiopia, Sudan, Uganda, Rwanda, Congo and Somalia. Most of the people came here because of conflicts and fighting in their own countries. We were a but uncertain abut our trip this morning because we all felt lackluster about viewing more desolation and anguish. But Jenn convinced us of the reason to go... seeing new landscape, viewing the conditions because its a direct correlation to Lodwar conditions... so we went. When we arrived and began to see for ourselves the state the camp was in we were surprisingly shocked. The refugees get food twice a month, have much commerce, good medical care, schools work and materials to make houses. They also have water tanks and security. It was almost sad to see that these people are much more cared for by the UN than the people in the interior of Kenya, where they lack water food and clothing. The IDP camps in Napetet were made up Kenyans who were sent back home from Nairobi during the post election violence...but because they were one of the last camps they were placed on a lot and forgotten about. Thanks to the IRC they were given a water well but no food so it was a shock to see the Refugees living in a better situation. It also made us question how much truth we were really receiving... because of the way were were toured around, the way they answered our questions and the fact that journalists aren't allowed in. But refugee camps in Rwanda, Congo, Uganda and Sudan are much worse off, very unsafe and poorly put together because of the rate they go up to house the immense homelessness that springs up so fast. This camp seems like a well oiled machine, having been put up 18 years ago and having worked out its initial kinks. It feels like a large village as opposed to a camp. There is limited violence in this area of Africa right now. The Somalians fill the camp because of the strife going on back home between the Bantu's and the Kushites.

I feel safe here in Kenya, surrounded by thousands of people who had to flee here because of the neighboring countries where safety isn't so easily found. What I found most interesting was the way that the camp segregated the refugees into their different areas according to their country of origin. Each culture went on with life in their own way as if they never had to assimilate. Their is little Ethiopia which is the most advanced because they have been here the longest. That is where we decided to eat lunch for the day. The food was amazing and it was quite evident that just because they were refugees here didn't mean they were lacking money. A lot of them put their money away in banks and got it out when they got to the camp, so they could start their business up. These people are very adept at creating a business and making a living. The Somalia tribes continue to practice Polygamy in the camp so their compounds are much larger. Polygamy is still occurring in the interior of Kenya as well but the religious groups are slowly reaching out to stop that custom... which for no other reason I feel it would largely help the financial problems and the starvation aspect for families if the husbands wouldn't take on so many wives and have so many children.

We headed back to Lodwar around 3 after we took a tour of the churches there in Kakuma and walked around the town. I'm seriously uncertain of my feelings toward the pastors and their churches in the Pentecostal Faith. As a liberal christian I am disheartened by their interest in building bigger and flashier buildings, and asking the poor congregation to aid them in that venture. The congregation doesn't even have the money to survive and the parishioners are telling them they have a financial responsibility to the church. I am willing to admit I don't have all the information to completely have an opinion on this, but right now I can't fight the feeling of being appalled. I am also struggling with those who ask us for individual sponsorships, extra money and help for their businesses any chance they get. They will single us out any time we are hanging around to ask us these questions, and as uncomfortable as I feel I also can't say that I wouldn't do that if I was in their position. Their taking their opportunity at being sponsored any way they can.

I'm so confused and sad. And tired.

Mimi siwezi Kuponya, yesu ndye anaponya...

Sunday 6.9.09 Lodwar 10:00pm

I spoke today at church, with a sermon I wrote about being a child of God. Having no experience I had no idea what to preach about but once I started brainstorming I found signs feeding me information on my topic. I thank God for guiding me through and placing me at a church that was helpful and loving to me. Pastor Dalmas and Sara took care of me and the congregation was very sweet. My sermon was exceptionally memorable or perfectly presented, but it was from the heart so that's what I had to offer.

We spent the rest of the day delivering food to the Unembraced and Napetet IDP (internally displaced people). The inhabitants of the IDP camp were left with no water source, no houses or schools and barely enough food from the government to survive. Kids everywhere are so sweet and trusting and want to touch us... they squirm into the crowd and force themselves on to us just to touch our skin. When we went to Soweto they chanted my name, it was very moving. They have so much energy... always wanting to play, to be held, to touch.

Lead me...

5.9.09 10:00AM Sat Lodwar

It's such a ridiculous feeling to have when I'm in this place, but I have the sensation of loneliness, of sorrow brought on not by my surroundings but from another source I'm unsure of. I felt when preparing for this trip a bit unworthy, ill prepared, ill equipped compared to everyone else. What do I have to contribute other than random organizational skills? So far I feel my most worthy asset is to be the reminder of the meals. And the one person I feel closest with on a normal every day basis is not as forthcoming as I would have hoped him to be. These are my own insecurities projecting on him, I'm certain, but it doesn't take away the overall isolation I'm filled with. I know it has nothing to do with me when he chooses others to confide in and brainstorm with because I don't have what it is he's needing help with, but that just frustrates me more. This has much more to do with my own inner-workings than anyone else's, and it's an opportunity to see deeper into myself to find what it is that is truly bothering me. I feel that when I'm in a group of intellectual people, people I admire, I have a hard time not feeling like I don't belong, and therefore trying desperately to prove I do. It's a pattern I've had for a long time, and it hinders me from being myself and comfortable because I'm often times too wrapped up in trying to put my best foot forward. The end result is me tripping over myself, being too loud, too boisterous with ideas when I haven't sat back and really listened to the situation being dealt with.


By feeling left out of the equation it has reminded me of what it felt like to be the baby of the family, the one who hasn't had the same life experience yet, but wants so deeply to be involved. The steps I take to try and get myself through life on my own two feet to prove to everyone that I am able, sometimes cause me to be deaf to those people wanting to help my journey along. As a child of God I feel like that is how we sometimes behave. We think we know everything there is, and we can find it out by ourselves if we don't, with no need of help from anybody... not even God. But we need to be able to step back and say "I don't know everything, and I need help". We're told to give it all up to God and let him guide us, but we need to stop and listen for that to happen. We need to listen.

some thoughts I've brainstormed on being a child of God:

**I'm the baby of the family - which brings joy and tantrums sometimes:)
**Jealousy, anger and envy, never wanting to be left alone
**God is here for us all, whether we are the first born or the last... or the only
**My wishes and wants were pushed aside, my voice unheard, because of all the voices that came before me ...everyone claimed to know more, know better
**Inability to express ourselves in words but rely on tantrums, malice, immoral behavior ... because of fear? because of low self-esteem?
**When we are acting immaturely we are driven by our true fears, our true vulnerabilities

-Nouwen wrote "Have faith he's leading us to a better place"
-"God leads us through it" - Eph 2.6-10

unlock it, but then what?

Monday Morning: Real Time: LA: October 12th

we had an incredibly surprising church gathering last night.

Surprising in the emotions that came up.
Surprising in the fear that arose.
Surprising in that I never expected to be asked for a secret.
And surprising that I'm not sure I'll stop even though I acknowledge the negativity of it.
But the point is I'm trying.

I suppose that's the purpose of what came out last night. That I acknowledge what i patterns I have created for myself and the weight that came off when i wrote it down, and had it read aloud. We're all broken, I fully embrace that. The best thing that happened was that we shared our brokenness which is a step in the right direction to create a closer family within the church. For so many churches/religions, pretending we don't see is essential in keeping up the facade that everything is perfect. The "don't ask, don't tell" philosophy and the old adage my pastor brought up... "I'll pray for you", are instrumental in keeping the congregation at arm's length from each other and harboring the dark environment that everyone lives in during their day to day existence.

It was dark. It was emotional and shocking. But it was good.

Do I think people will wake up today and stop what they have been secretly participating in? No. That's not what the purpose was. Just waking us all up to the darkness that we keep inside of ourselves and never share with anyone in our lives was helpful i think. I pray that we continue unearthing the secrets we all keep, however painful it may be.

This weekend proved to be much more insightful, heartwarming and awakening than I could have imagined Friday morning.

And I met a new friend:)

prayer mountain

4.9.09 Friday Lodwar

I used the time we spent on Prayer Mountain to brainstorm ideas for my Sunday sermon. I'm a bit nervous so opening the bible and reading passages is helping me figure out what route I want to take. The mountain looks down on the town of Lodwar on one side and the vast, dry river bed on the other... the wind is blowing slightly but other than that the air is filled with a deep silence. Below are some of the passages I have been pondering and some of my thoughts that I've been gathering out of the readings.

Isaiah 2.6-9
The Lord gave watchmen to the city...kept watch for the enemies...God can save the city.. He made this city the way it is so we can seek His ways.

Is. 32.1-8
The honest man has a room in the House of the Lord... the scoundrel who lies and cheats will no longer be respected... the noble man will stand with Jesus

What's the story?

Those who are true in God's love will be saved.
Those who are blind will see.
God's ways are not our way, nor is His time our time.
Sometimes what we think we need is not what God knows we need.
You must stand watch.

When we are given grace from God sometimes we can fail because we forget how to be a child of God

**We are challenged by our daily lives to serve God. Sometimes its harder to see the path to greatness because we are filled with so much pride and greed. Americans are surrounded by so much wealth and we succumb to a life full of things rather than a life full of servitude. Sometimes I feel that although I am in a city full of millions of people I am alone a lot of my day. We are so separated from each other by the way we live. Our security measures, our individual goals and hopes for the future, keep us locked up in our individual worlds... unable to see past our own shadows. We work so hard to essentially secure ourselves a lonely existence. The way the Turkana people live and take care of each other should serve as a great example for all the world. God teaches us to love one another as He loves us. God teaches that family is the most important thing below Him. That strangers should be welcomed as neighbors. He who gives much will get much in return. What I have witnessed here in Lodwar is their ability to love and share with one another. I have witnessed what it truly means to be a family of God, under God, to be God's Children. Their hardwork and dedication reaches to all areas of their lives...to how they raise their children, to how they worship the Lord.

Other possible scriptures

1) Wickedness is undesired in God (Prov 24.1-2)
2) Knowledge is power - be powerful in your love with God (Prov 24.3-4)
3) Be strong and persevere - God will reward those who search for him in times of trouble (Prov 24:10)
4) God speaks in his own way but men may not perceive (Job 33.12-26)
- if you rejoice in God you shall be rewarded - by knowledge, by love, by grace you shall be saved
5) By grace and faith alone we are saved (Eph 2.6-10)
6) Be imitators of God, dearly loved children (Eph 5. 1-2)


My thoughts are just jumbled and completely unqualified to figure this out... but here I go.

These things we see

9:00pm Lodwar 4.9.09 Thursday

We got back from the Bush today feeling much more uplifted and yet still saddened by the day.

It began with the Leadership Summit meeting at the Bishop's church in Nakwamikwi. The musical instruments we all loath were used today by the congregation. Microphones and keyboards drowning out the beautiful sounds of their naturally talented singing voices. I feel collectively we find it all to be a travesty of the church founder to bring that in to this culture... how could they place in the minds of these naturally gifted musicians that they need to amplify and synthesize worship just because the white people suck at it. Sorry, that wasn't nice, but somehow its still true. Our group wishes we had just an ounce of the rhythm and harmony the congregations here possess and we are seeing it morphed into something horrible by the Western way of thinking.

Once I was able to relax about the music the keyboard stopped, the singer slowed down and began to pray and then the most wonderful thing happened. It felt like the wind rose up and began to swirl around me at the exact time that the parishioners began to individually pray out loud. They were praying in Swahili, in Turkana and in English, with a multitude of voices all working together to create a sensation that shuttered through me. I closed my eyes and my body soaked in the sounds of all the worshiping voices, crying out for God to come down and save them.

After the ceremony was finished some of the women came up and grabbed Rachel and I and began to teach us to dance along with the music of the keyboard. Pastor Michael then came around and brought us all individual bracelets, with our names scrawled on them in beads... it brought me to tears.

We went back to the cottage after eating a great meal with the pastors and conversing with the bishop about his family. I was able to get an hours nap in before heading out into the bush. I am always tired, it feels like we go-go-go and don't get much down time to let the body feel the effect of the day. Today was my first day with a little stomach sickness, but by late afternoon I was fine. I pray the morning brings complete relief. We traveled to the bush with an extra truck to carry the food we were going to deliver. We came upon a setting only National Geographic could have prepared me for. As we drove through was used to be a lush forest 50 years ago we see the sparseness mixed with areas of green vegetation. Although it looks ideal we find out it is not suitable for living because of the rainy season that washes the houses away when the area is transformed into a river. We pass large termite hills and stray camels which we must stop for to take pictures. We reach the Lolupe village and are taken aback as the congregation is huddled under the tree, dancing and singing. Posts stand on a broken square, the foundations of a soon to be church building. The people are dressed in traditional wear of a sheet, necklace and jewelry. The men sit on their stools on the outside of the circle... it's clear in this setting that women take up the majority. My mind can't comprehend that something so beautiful can hurt so much. How can this beautiful culture live daily with a level of hunger we can never now. The food we brought will last three days, 1 week if the family combines. The government is only feeding them once a month and usually only corn. The kids are sick, with protruding bellies and hernias. The women are hard workers who bear the child raising, the house work and the business to sustain a family and a husband who doesn't contribute anything. Although this wasn't always the case, since they used to have more success at migrant living as they traveled with their sheep. Although providing all that is needed to survive the women still have no say over their lives or their families well being... it remains in the hands of the fathers and husbands.

The poster child

6:00pm Lodwar, 2.9.09 Wednesday

Arrived shortly after 6pm from our tour to all the 9 churchs the pastors took over/built up. Some churches vary from large structures to a single tree. Its amazing how the followers of each congregation will worship in whatever place they can find. Which made praying for new buildings a difficult thing to do... because I notice that these people don't need buildings to find God, they have already found a path to him without the flashiness we so often find here in America.

While I reflect on the day in the hammock I'm taken back into real time iwth the cries for food from the small children next to our cottage. They sing songs of Happy Birthday and Jesus Loves You to get whatever food we may have. They have learned through the past visitors that by entertaining they can possibly be rewarded. Rachel brought them a bag of trail mix and tried to individually give each child some but it escalated to the children reaching into the fence and trampling on each other. They got shoo'd away by their father.

I can't block the image of all the kids pushing against the grate, crying because the littles ones would get their food taken away. It's the perfect metaphor/example of what it looks like to give from the outside... where is the strength to continue when this is what is caused from it, the crushing of one another to get what's needed to survive. God is working in all of this, I just can't seem to find him easily sometimes.

Her first Foreign Correspondence!!

My friend Jenn, who was on the trip with us, is a reporter for NPR and just published her story yesterday on Marketplace. Below is the link that will take you to the interview and photos.

These are interviews with locals in Lodwar that we met and got to know over our 11 day trip. The purpose of this segment is to give more information on what is really going on in Kenya regarding the drought, the corruption of the government and the effect this has on the people of Lodwar. She covers a lot of ground in the 3 minute segment and has left a lot of listeners with questions, desires to help, and some ignorant comments. Enjoy!

http://marketplace.publicradio.org/display/web/2009/09/30/pm-kenya-drought/

fake reality

7:00AM Lodwar Wed 2.9.09

I'm swinging in the hammock to the sounds of distant birds chirping, kids speaking Turkana and watching the sun come up. Last night I thought the evening in Lodwar was the most impressive site I'd seen but then I wake up and find that the morning has its own unique glory to it. The sky blends with the trees and all seem as if its been freshly painted a hazy deep blue.

The stories I heard while in Soweto yesterday were tear inducing. Most of the stories centered on how the kids came to be orphans and the women who saved them. These women who had come to God through the Pentecostal church felt a responsibility to follow Joshua's plan and start rebuilding the town of Lodwar one child at a time. Each women has one to 4 foster kids, some with almost 10; while having at least one biological child already at home. One of the ladies who was interviewed by our team is sick with AIDS and has two kids of her own and a foster kid to take care of; I'm anxiously awaiting the completion of the interview.

Moses, during lunch yesterday, was describing a funny story to us about what his parents would do when they weren't able to provide food for the day. They would tell the kids who were hungry that if they kept playing outside they would slaughter a goat for dinner and they would get to eat its right leg. Moses said they found out this is what they'd tell them to keep them going during the day but they would know no food would be coming that night. Sometimes they would get one meal a day - this is the norm in Lodwar. That one meal would always be dinner. They would play all day and then get to eat a meal before bed because its hard to sleep on an empty stomach. The way he tells us this is in a joking manner, laughing as if it is a funny story he's making up. For a second we laugh along with him, his smile is infectious, until the realization finally dawns on us of what he's saying. Your stomach tightens up and its hard to swallow as the tears threaten to stream down your face. All the while he's saying this you reprimand yourself for being hungry for lunch that day after having a large breakfast that morning. You scream at yourself for feeling tired, for your body betraying you by the growling in your stomach. The body that is used to the comforts of your world and has no idea how it would feel if you only got a glass of water at night because there wasn't enough to drink when you were thirsty all day. Their bodies have become accustomed to not drinking water.

The children interupt his story by chanting my name to come out and play with the football we brought them. They love to chase me and have me chase them. They have so much energy to play in the scorching sun that I try to keep up but I'm burning up. There has been a large transition from the beginning of our time in Soweto to the end... where we began timidly shaking a hand here and there and smiling out of nervousness to holding a child to my chest as I play "airplane" with her and all the kids grab at my legs. Its the difference between meeting someone for the first time and saying goodbye to a loved one.

street wise

It was extremely difficult to come up with a way to describe how today felt when we were all recapping the events over dinner.

We drove past the street kids today, a group of homeless children who live around Lodwar, on our way to the church to meet the Unembraced kids. It felt oddly discomforting that we were driving past homeless children this morning without giving anything when we were going to spend a day with the kids who were "lucky" to have been taken out of their homeless environment. Aaron was able to step out and film after Pastor Joshua explained to them it was for a documentary involving the church and we wouldn't be making any money from them. Otherwise they would be expecting us to pay them for their "likeness". This chance meeting for Aaron helped give him a new visual for how he wanted to capture information for the documentary, and ended up scoring more interviews with these kids. They wore ragged clothing on their extremely dirty bodies and ate what they could get out of an empty bean can from the pile of trash freshly dumped. The city people will dump wheelbarrows full onto the side of the road and the kids will wait around to dig through it. There was a leader of the group who told them what to do and when to do it. These "leaders" are necessary protection for some of them, a way out of getting beat up by other street kids. The children, Moses told us, came to live here because of tribal fighting, AIDS, , famine and desertion by their parents. They come and have no relatives so they try to survive as best as they can. The old ladies have a hard time as well because if they are widows they were left with nothing to survive. In the modern era of the Turkana culture the women are responsible for practically everything do with the survival of the family: cooking, caring for the kids, running the house, and bringing in the income... and yet they have no power over the finances or their place in the world. The Pentecostal influence here has at least done something in the way of fixing this problem: the hold a men's retreat every Saturday and one of the topics of the retreat is to understand the fault in this way of thinking.

I still can't explain how my day in Soweto affected me. Maybe tomorrow.

Camels

6:50am Lodwar, Tues 1.9.09

We heard a camel in the night that we didn't recognize at first. It sounded hurt so we checked it out and it was all bound up... at the time we couldn't figure out why.

Slept well last night, tucked into my net covering the bed with the fan blowing on me to relieve me from the heat. No mosquitos and no spiders showing up yet so that's good, and woke up to a warm shower so my expectations so far are being exceeded. The water tank sits in the sun all day long so it stays warm throughout the night. The women who run this facility are all so pleasant and welcoming. Helen, one of the women who work the front desk, is from Kisumo, the village where Obama's dad is from. She's gone now, on vacation so we said our goodbyes and I'm taking her well wishes and love back to everyone in the US. It's a quiet and calm morning full of distant bird chiros and baby cries. The trees are the exact replica of every National Geographic picture I have ever seen of Africa. They have this windswept effect that makes me think of brushed watercolor paintings done by the guy on PBS.

We're heading to visit the orphans and their families today, bringing with us toys, necklaces and pictures for them. It will be another long day and I pray and hope for energy and excitement to fill me from start to finish. Thank you Lord for this gift of Africa.

Went to leave for the day and found out the camel was slaughtered.

We're here!!

8:oo-ish (PM) Lodwar. Monday 31.9.09

Words can't get close to describing what it felt like to land in Lodwar and be greeted by all the pastors of the surrounding churches. Some walked as far as 30 km to meet us at the landing strip. Its hot and dry here but not too much hotter than LA at its worst. The roads are rough and ragged and in some places very narrow which makes the ride in the back of the SUV awesome!

We're taken to our place of stay by Joshua and Moses, our two friends through JR. Their energy is overwhelming and they carry their joy with them all day long. The reception that was awaiting us was so surprising it made my eyes well up.

We dropped our things off in our rooms and settled in for a bit before having orientation at the outdoor conference hall. The place we're staying is far nicer than any of us anticipated - it was a nice surprise. Each has their own bed with mosquito nets and the cottages have a private bath with showers. I'm definitely being challenged by my squirminess of bugs in Africa as they're everywhere, there's no escape. Deep breaths.

We were given a tour of the town by Joshua, Moses, and Charles (who has appointed himself as my personal interpretor). A lot of the people only speak Turkana which makes what little I've learned in Swahili completely useless. We saw the main downtown area of Lodwar, which is in no way related to any places referred to as "downtown" in the States. As we toured we learned about the corruption with the police and the government with small businesses, and the effects of the heavy drought they are experiencing. They also explained to us that not only is this drought affecting the region but a dam was recently built to help irrigation in towns to the North which has decreased the water flow in to Lodwar. I can see the obvious unfairness with this situation and it infuriates me.

on our way

Sometime before 6AM Nairobi:

My friend woke up this morning at 4:45 determined to get in a run before we left. We woke the house up trying to get out because of all the security locks, which I feel was a poor way to start the day. When she returned she admitted how scared she was. She's a tough girl and has a pretty good sense of safety ... but this morning, on the route along Solanga Road, in Nairboi Kenya, she maybe pushed it too far. Running along in the pitch black in Africa created a need inside of her to search for worship songs to keep the thoughts, that freaked her out, at bay. It's so easy to revert to horror stories when you're already a bit terrified. When I'm alone in the dark I have recently found myself imagining the worst possible scenarios and I have to pray or sing to get my mind of those thoughts. I feel so bad that she was scared but it was probably a healthy dose of fear. We often times can be too careless with our lives because we live in a bubble that mythically protects us... Its good to question that bubble, to force ourselves to see the reality of the dangers around us. We don't need to block ourselves in to try and hide from the dangers, the opposite occurs I think... we begin to be more open to new surroundings when we give ourselves the opportunity and freedom to be scared. We admit to the fear and then we move forward. Its possible I might have read too much into her experience but it got me contemplating my own insecurities.

This morning we leave for Lodwar. A place repeatedly descreibed as extremely dry, dusty, and very very hot. One man went as far as warning us that they'll kill us for our water. We laughed at that notion, but a part of me laughed out of nervousness that there might be a bit of truth there. JR describes the people as comforting, as we are entering a small town where everyone knows each other and already knows who we are. I hope and pray for a calm and strong soul that is game for anything which might be thrown my way. I'm trying to clear my mind of any preconcieved notions, owning up to the fact that I'm completely ignorant to how these people live their lives and who they really are. I couldn't have gone with a better group for this journey though and I pray for our safe keeping.

It seems I'm praying alot.

Carnivore

10:15 Nairobi Sunday Night

This day was both very long and extremely enjoyable. We walked from our hostel to the bus stop guided by Martin who gave us a long lesson on the education system in Kenya. Interestingly enough it seems quite similar to some of our problems and issues in the US. The lack of public funds hinders the good level of teaching that could be given to the children who can't afford private schools. In addition, the issues stemming from focusing on test taking rather than rentention of information seems to cross over our cultural barriers. The major distinction obviously between the US and Kenya, besides the immense difference in public funds, is that the parents in the outskirts/interior of the country still don't view education as important as caring for the farm/animals.

The bus dropped us off downtown Nairobi and we walked up to the city market and got our first, and quite intensive, taste of bargaining for merchandise. The men standing around the entrance try and herd you into a tight corner of the market, surround you by middlemen, and then guilt you into buying everything they are selling, by telling us that yesterday was a very bad business day for them. If you slow down for a second you're screwed.

I walk away from the market fairly unscathed, having broken down and purchased a necklace, Masaai sandals and a traditional cloth. We were unexpectadly aided by a wonderful Kenyan woman named Charity who took us around and told us what everything was really worth, so we didn't spend too much. Charity's sister Faith turned out to be a Godsend as well. We all got split up without having JR's phone number and we ran into her out of nowhere in the middle of hundreds of people in downtown Nairobi later that day... as we're telling her that we can't find two of our people she reminds us she has JR's number in her phone!

We tried to go to the National park but $50 on a crowded bus was not appealing so we sat and had samosas and decided to walk down the street to the Bomas of Kenya. It turned out to be a farther walk than we expected in the sweltering heat, and Marie was limping due to her bruised foot so when we relaized it would still be a considerable distance we hopped/smashed/squished into what I like to refer to as a "Disco Van" - bumping down the stree with load music blaring through its open windows. A great adventure and another chance to hone my bargaining skilss, and the power of saying no. We got a small taxi to take us the rest of the way and found ourselves in an ampitheater filled with locals and tourists watching traditional tribal dances, along with some amazing displays of acrobatics. Rachel and I jumped up and included ourselves in the final dance then caught up with the rest of the group to explore traditional bush homes - which included various arrays of adobe style huts. Obama's tribe, the Luao, were represented here. We finished our day by meeting up with our other two friends at Carnivore, a BBQ restaurant, a highly toursty environment but so worth the experience. Fresh carved exotic meats and Kenyan tea with great dessert - all you can eat!! As dinner died down we had a group discussion of fears, hopes and wishes for the coming week. With the larger financial obligations organized back at the hostel I'm now ready for bed and the start of a very early morning - and what looks like to be a very long day. But we'll finally be in Lodwar so I'm grateful:)

Good Morning Kenya

8:00AM First morning in Kenya

Waking up this morning wasn't difficult as I wasn't ever really asleep I think. I put my running shoes on, asked where it was safe to run, chose to not go too far because I'm a little timid in Nairobi still and headed out on a morning jog. It was wonderful. I was able to see and hear birds I've never viewed before while running on the dirt road, passing various townspeople heading out for their days. The place we're staying is situated on the outer lines of the Kenya National Park, where we plan to visit today. Surrounded by trees, local plants and big houses I'm still not feeling as if I'm in Africa. I feel like we're still in this sheltered area away from the realities of Kenya and its people.

I've met some of the workers here this morning: Sammy who runs the security gate and wanted to race me, James who helps cook and likes to show me his mp3 music and Dorothy who helps with everything else. They all are so welcoming and willing to give me a few Swahili lessons. 1) Habari Ya Asabuhi = Good Morning 2) Msaada = help ( this one is very handy).

James calls me Jessica Simpson and I try hard to understand his accent as he asks me if Schwarzenegger is still our governor. Its amazing what they know about our politics and celebrtiy life and I still have no clue who the Kenyan president is. This will have to change. But right now its a lovely morning and I look forward to our adventure on the public bus as we head to the town center.

Nighttime in Nairobi

Midnight, Bush House and Camp, Nairobi

I'm admitting to a little bit of anxiety, anger, frustration and fear since arriving in Nairobi. Leaving the airport we were faced with the first sign that we'll need to be smarter and a bit more aware of the locals- men came up and forced our luggage out of our hands while offering their assistance and then requested tips ... this is how they work at the airport. It would have been alright had I been expecting it but we didn't exchange our bills to smaller ones yet because the exchange rate was bad at the airport. We found out quickly that there is not a common tip percentage either, you tip what you want for whatever somebody does for you, so without knowing what is customary you can easily give way too much to one person and way too little to another. The driver of our hotel van shooed them away and off we went, feeling a bit guilt-ridden for not preparing ourselves better.

We're here now in our hostel with comfortable beds, good security, breakfast in the morning, and an entire day of sightseeing... and yet I'm finding it very hard to relax. I ask God to work in my heart and my mind to keep my anxiety down. I think having little control over the situation and sharing space with so many others who are just as out of sorts as I am is making it hard to feel comfortable. I'm so worried about asking or saying the wrong thing so I'm finding it difficult to converse with the locals. But it's going to be better tomorrow after a good nights sleep and the start of a new day... I'm in Kenya!!

frustration and lack of sleep

8:00 am in London Airport

First chance to be buddhist about the stress of traveling and I fail. Group traveling presents the need for corporation and melding of temperaments that sometimes I am not gifted with. One of my goals for this trip is to be open, willing and able to go with the flow, so I am wishing and praying to use this first failed attempt as a learning device. I need to take a breath and let everything just pass by without getting uptight.

1:20am London/4:38 Nairobi

I sit eating a pleasurable airplane meal of Indain curry chicken, drinking a Chilean bottle of Sauvignon Blanc (complimentary of Kenya Airways), watching the vast sparse desert land of Africa's coastline stretching out before me and the last remnants of the torquoise blue Mediterranean slip from view out of my individual window... life is beautiful and comfortable in this pre-Lodwar travel bubble I'm still in. Really anxious to get into the meat of my trip.

Still flying... will it ever end?

8:oopm En route to London

I love the feeling of nightime flying, especially over the water. Its both frightening and magical to me. The pitch black I view out the small airplane window sends shivers down my spine, which I contribute to the excitement over having no control. My imagination works as a stimulous for accomplishing my goals and yet it also is the main reason I get lazy and complacent about my life because it is easy to fall into daydreaming, or get wrapped up in a good book series that keeps me from living my life. I find that this flight is a great example of the latter. As much as I want to read up and study about how to be more equipped for this trip I continually get sucked up in an airline movie playing in front of me or staring out the window into a dark abyss, and letting my mind wander.

I'm yearning to get off this plane, stretch my legs and get out and do what I'm heading to Afrca to accomplish. I feel as if I'm still stuck back in a place where I don't know what's happening, what's to come. Clearly I should want to spend every waking moment getting ready for landing in Lodwar, so I can't figure out why this mental roadblock is still here- why I feel this resistence to educating myself on third-world mission trips, living with the poor or any of the other 5 or so books on these topics I have with me. Fear seems to be the most fitting answer. For me, my imagination runs rampant when I am fearing something - it forces my mind to want to run away from reality and escape to fiction.

Sometime during the neverending flight:

The advancements of our race sometimes catches me by surprise... for example, I'm sitting wrapped up in a comfy blanket, sipping wine while I'm flying 3400 feet up in the air and it's -56 degrees outside - all the while I'm watching our flight status on a mini-tv screen in front of me listening to Lady Gaga on an airline radio station. Weird.

Psalm 62.1-4

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.

How long will you assault a man?

would all of you throw him down -

this leaning wall, this tottering fence?

They fully intend to topple him

from his lofty place;

They take delight in lies.

With their mouths they bless,

But in their hearts they curse.

(one of the passages that caught my attention while I was searching for material to speak about at church on Sunday)

7:00AM London Time

The possibility of taking a bump on the way back home and exploring London gets me excited for the morning ahead. 10 minutes to landing in the UK!!

flying overseas

Sometime on the flight to London:

I'm sitting here on the flight heading to a place across the world I've never been, to help people I've never met make a better life for themselves and their families. All the while I'm reflecting on the fact that I live in a city that has hundreds of dysfunctional, unhealthy, and broken people roaming its streets every night in need of better lives. I'm practically neighbors with souls I could be providing for, yet I fly thousands of miles and spend thousands of dollars to help the town of Lodwar, Kenya. It just strikes me as odd. I ponder this troublesome truth while watching The Soloist on our flight to Lodwar. It has the desired effect on its audience, as I'm crying and wishing I wasn't so complacent at home. It stirs questions that I should ask myself everyday:

What relationships am I building with people outside of my comfort zone?
What am I doing to create a chance of growth in another human being? In myself?
Will this trip ignite a flame inside of my safe existence that forces me to change the way I cohabit with the people who surround my everyday life?

Excitement over the unknown

Phil 4.13 "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me"
-This passage was sent to me before I left by the mom of my best friend. I had wrote an email to all my friends and family members about my fears of my upcoming trip to Kenya and I received some great inspirational words back, this passage being my favorite. I took this thought with me through my journey and felt it helped me move along some tough terrain, so thank you Ang.

Day 1:

8:00am August 28th. On our way to LAX.

We decided to travel by public transportation from Mike's house in East Hollywood to the airport. It feels as if it is the perfect beginning to a completely uncontrollable adventure. Mike had spoken about his nerves this morning, which both comforted me to hear someone else express their reservations and it also made me realize that I really do appreciate the adventure part of this trip. It feels like little electric nodes all over my body are generating energy when I'm beginning a trip I've been anticipating.

12:15pm

Trying desperately to retain a few necessary phrases in Swahili that I was given to study
Ex: My hovercraft is full of eels = Ndege langu limejaa mikunga
(you'd be surprised to find out just how un-useful this one was in a land with no water, however the phrase "I have diarrhea" was unbelievably necessary: Nina hara)