So This Is Kenya

The herd of zebras we saw at Lake Bogoria National Reserve, right after leaving the shore of the lake where we watched a troop of baboons hunting flamingos. I couldn’t believe how big the zebras were, but they were very concerned about us and soon ran away to the safe cover of the acacia trees.

While writing this, I am sitting in my luxurious room on the property of the ELI Training Center in Kipkarren, looking out the window at a beautiful river winding through the Kenyan countryside. I am here for a few days this week to get involved in and learn about their programs, mainly their health clinic, HIV/AIDS outreach, home health care, and sustainable agriculture training school. Of course, my down time between those programs will be spent at the children’s home and school that are also on the property. Yesterday evening, after being welcomed here and visiting with everyone involved in the programs I just mentioned, I stopped in at the school and then shared devotions with the children at the home. They had so many questions for me, mostly pertaining to my marital status, family structure, education level, employment experience, and personal familiarity with Barack Obama.

My attempt to get the kids into organized and evenly spaced lines during the after school training program. You can see some of the kids trying, and some simply not paying attention.

This morning I went out into the community with a couple of the HIV outreach staff to visit some of the people they work with. This was very interesting for me because I have never even known someone who was infected with HIV, let alone tried to reach out to them and listen to their story while in a foreign culture. Most of the children at the homed here and in Ilula have lost their parents to AIDS, so I feel this experience was important for me to understand, in a very small way, what they have dealt with in respect to the disease and how it affects not only an individual life, but also the lives of everyone around the infected individual. I ended up visiting one woman with AIDS and one woman with very aggressive stomach cancer, and had a chance to hear their stories and ask them questions. Hearing about the suffering each of them has gone through, and is still continually experiencing, was very difficult, but I had to maintain a positive attitude and tone as I listened to them and asked them very tough questions. They each have children that have had to come to terms with the fact that they will lose their mother to their respective diseases at any time, which is something I don’t think I could handle at their young ages. The woman with AIDS, who was constantly misdiagnosed with the common flu for eleven years before even being given an HIV test, is now living a healthy life, after being on the verge of death multiple times. As we sat together in her small mud hut surrounded by swarming flies, she told me she even seriously considered poisoning herself and her children to death to escape the devastating combination of a serious disease and extreme poverty. Now she lives what she calls a normal life and her children both attend school, which is something she never considered a possibility before becoming involved in the ELI program just three years ago. The woman with stomach cancer is not fairing so well. After having her tumor removed in 2003, it has come back and destructively spread to the point of inoperability, leaving her with little to do but suffer the pain. She walked gingerly out of her hut to greet us, and I was immediately struck by her very thin limbs and extremely swollen stomach. She was visibly in a lot of pain as she told me that she has five children in school, but is too weak to leave her home, so the only time she gets to see them is if they make the journey home. As you can imagine, sitting with these women and hearing their inconceivable stories was not easy, but there was one encouraging commonality between them: they both find hope and optimism in their faith. They each told me that God has been gracious to them and has provided for their needs, even when no doctor could or would. When they told me that, they smiled their only smile of our visit.

Emanuel, Victoria, and I enjoying some time together during evening chai. They are some of the cutest and funniest kids I have ever met, and they just love playing with my hair now that it is no longer braided.

The past week has offered anything but the standard daily schedule I wrote about last time. I have continued running in the mornings with the children and a few men from the community, and I am happy to report that the school children are progressing in their ability to stay organized and focused in the after school training. They are now able to organize themselves in their lines somewhat quickly and nearly complete the entire warm up in the allotted 45 minutes we have together. I am very excited to see what we can do after 7 more weeks of practice. I went out on another mission over the weekend, where we visited the home church and village of one of the recovered alcoholics from the program at the Ilula training center. It was so nice to see him again and meet his family and friends in his community, and he even brought along one of his former drinking buddies, who decided to put down the bottle and pick up a bible that morning. Seeing how God can work through people in any situation has been one of the most impressing experiences in Kenya to this point. The resiliency and the social nature of Kenya people is something I would like to see in more groups of people around the world. It is quite impressive, and I have been very complimentary of it in an effort to make sure they understand how amazing they are. I also spent a day in Eldoret, the town that I am certain will soon swallow Ilula in its rapid and unyielding expansion. After being there for just 8 hours, I was so happy to be spending my 10 weeks in Ilula, rather than in the town itself. Following five years of living in Los Angeles and a short time in New York City, I felt that I would be prepared to handle any busy, crowded city, let alone one with a fraction of the population. Eldoret proved that arrogant self-assessment to be far from true. There are something like 800,000 people in a town built for 150,000, and with literally no room for expansion within the configuration of the town. I was sure, while dodging the hundreds of huge trucks emitting disgusting amounts of toxic black exhaust, that we were going to run over at least one of the thousands of people who were walking, riding bicycles and motorbikes, and pushing their carts full of second-hand U.S. merchandise. It was dirty and suffocating, and all around unappealing to me. I am convinced that I was witnessing the result of American-style development without American-grade resources or funding. There has to be a better way, and it needs to be introduced to these people soon.

Standing on the edge of a cliff right behind the church we visited on Saturday, overlooking the Kerio Valley. The cliff is at an elevation of roughly 8,500 feet, and about one meter behind me is a drop of 7,000 feet. I don’t know that I have ever seen such a huge valley.

In complete opposition to Eldoret was what I witnessed on Saturday, when I went to Lake Bogoria. This national park and game reserve is as close as I have seen to my own stereotype of Africa since arriving in the country. It is a savannah with endless Acacia trees filled with baboons, monkeys, and many species of exotic birds, and also with a monstrous saltwater lake full of thousands of bright pink flamingos. As if all that weren’t enough to keep me entertained, there are also a number of hot spring geysers surrounding the lake. The park, which is encased beautifully by flat-top mountains, is also home to such animals as zebras, ostriches, wart hogs, various species of gazelles, buffalo, and snakes, including cobras and mambas (unfortunately I did not see any snakes). This is the first time I had seen any of these animals in their natural habitat, so I reacted excitedly and whipped out my camera each time I saw one, while Joel, the Kenyan who was driving, sat and twiddled his thumbs. Sometimes I love playing the tourist role.

The moon rising over the training center in Ilula. This is a nightly occurrence that I will never take for granted because it is so beautiful. My hut is the one tucked away on the far right.

I realized through the last week that I personally thrive under circumstances that offer a lot of variation and adventure, with some uncertainty day to day. Especially on this journey, where my goal is to experience as much of the way of life as possible in each place I go, I feel wasteful if I spend a couple weeks doing the same thing each day. With that said, if I am to do the same thing each day, I am happy that it is spending time with the children at the children’s home. I don’t know that I could ever grow tired of playing games, sharing meals and devotions, and doing homework with them. If any of you are having a bad day, no matter how bad it is, get on a flight to Kenya and visit a primary school. I challenge you to do so and not smile and feel really good about yourself and the world. Spending this week in Kipkarren, and maybe next week as well, gives me peace that I am gaining a better understanding of life in Kenya. I also have another mission in the Kario Valley on Friday, guardian’s day at the Ilula children’s home on Saturday, and an engagement party next Saturday. All of this will offer the variation of exciting experiences that I need to stay focused. I still feel myself wearing down a little bit as a result of 6 months straight of being away from home in very intense conditions, so I need to find ways to stay focused and actively engaged during the remaining three months. Africa is such an interesting and diverse place, so I don’t think staying engaged will be a difficult task. This place has so much to teach me, and I will not allow any of it to escape me. Thank you for your support and prayers; you all keep me going more than you know, even with just a simple email giving me an update on yourself or checking in on me. Be good to yourself and those around you, and I hope to hear from you soon.