Kenya 3

24th
Today was day one at the school and the first day I went to visit my Friend’s parents. When we arrived at the school, we found out that we would have three Kenyan teachers with us for class. Brenda is a drama teacher at a local church, Said is a musician, and Godfrey is a photographer. We have 16 students who are beautiful and wonderful! These kids are so eager to learn and begin listening right away. Today, we worked on acting out the poem, Still I Rise by Maya Angelou and worked on movement and mirroring. Our metaphor today was that Theatre is like a mirror of our lives because it tells the story of life like a mirror tells the story of our face. The children began telling their stories by telling us things they have seen or been through in life.

After class, we went to David’s family’s café to eat native food. We had Chapatis, greens, corn, and beans. Everything was delicious!! We then went quickly from poverty to wealth, going to the YAYA center, an upscale mall.

At night, Andrew’s dad came to pick me up and have me over for dinner. I was able to see Andrew’s house, and meet his cousins and brother. For the most part I spoke with his mom and dad and barely spoke to the children at all. I was treated like a queen here and they served me a generous dinner and even brought me water and a basin to wash my hands for dinner. We had a wonderful conversation about politics, global concerns, and mostly, Obama. Andrew’s dad says that Americans have got to got back to the basics. Here, I understand what the basics are and I like them. The room is simple, the food is simple, the life, in ways, is simple, and all is good. How is it that I survive on so little here, yet need so many more amenities at home? He said the world is a small village and is the US sneezes, the whole world has a cold. This is why they watch our economy and life very carefully. I never thought of 9/11 affecting them very much, but he said, that hurt everyone, not just the US. I think that when missionaries “brought the gospel to the world,” they only focused on saving souls instead of changing lives. Along with Christianity came corruption and the people here see that. How we have failed Christ. Perhaps it is those people who we were out to “save” who will eventually have to save us. Though no one is perfect and corruption in general is bad here, there is so much we can learn from the sense of community, strong family values, and basic respect for others that Kenyan people share.

Coming back to my hotel, I had “a moment,” and watched Novelas with Carl. Then, Dorette and I brainstormed about class tomorrow. We are both excited about our plans for the day. I am extremely gassy and have a rash on my face and chest. I am hoping this is something that will easily go away…

Barack Obama is like a god here.

Kenya Day 2

23rd

Today we got to go to our site and meet the teachers we will be working with. Mathare Valley is one of the worst and largest slums in Africa. Of all the children we are working with, 30-40% are sexually abused, 70-80% have witnessed violence that led to death, 75-80% have HIV, 25% are children of prostitutes, 90-100% are beaten by their parents as a means for correction, and many are victims of incest. Common in their life are gang fights, fires, Marijuana, alcohol abuse, and sniffing. Most of these children are living in homes with one parent and often have to do the cooking and care for their younger siblings.

These facts were overwhelming to me. It is sad enough just to see how they are living, but to think about the trauma they have experienced in their lives at such a young age, it is easy to understand why it may be hard for them to grasp the concept of hope. How can I, an American who has grown up with three meals a day, two parents, a large clean house, good education, and clean clothes, ask them to have hope? My initial response is to just scoop them all up and take them home with me. But how can I assume that they would want that? Mathare is all they have ever known and I could not remove their past just from removing them from Mathare. If there is a way I could give just one of these beautiful children hope and the motivation to be better than what the world is telling them they are, then this whole trip is worth it.

My day closed with Vicki, Dr. Corbitt, Dorette, and I going to the Fairview Hotel for drinks to celebrate my birthday. After that, Carl, Celmali, Dorette, Liberty, and I prepared our lessons for the huge task we have ahead of us.

Kenya Day 1

November 22nd
I started my 31st birthday in the Amsterdam airport sitting in a retro overly priced McDonalds sipping on a fruit smoothie. Here, I did school work nearly 4,000 from my school! In the airport, I noticed and took comfort in the simplicity and cleanliness of the Netherlands. It made me resent my cluttered America. On my flight from Amsterdam I sat with a woman from Georgia who was headed on Safari in Kenya and a woman from Ottawa who was headed to Uganda. Though we were all from The US, our English dialects contrasted beautifully.

I enjoy international travel. You get free alcohol, a wide selection of movies with your own screen, and food is delivered almost every 45 minutes or so. For the most part, I slept, ate, drank, and felt a little infantile. The flight attendant would wake me up each time she had food, I would get up and eat it and go right back to bed. This lasted all 9 hours of our flight.

Arriving in Kenya was incredible. The warm air hit my face and it smelled fresh. Getting a VISA took forever, but customs didn’t even open my bag and I got swiftly through the doors. A very pleasant man named Boniface came to pick us up in a stretch Land Rover and we were on our way. Like my trip to India, we arrived at night, so there wasn’t much to see. However, as we turned to go up the hill to our Hostel, we got a flat tire. Boniface tried to get someone to come pick us up, but ended up driving us the rest of the way with the flat.

Later I learned that he had to get us to the hotel so that thieves didn’t come and take all of our stuff. Our Hostel is nice. Simple and clean. I am totally beat and not very creative right now, so I will write more tomorrow.

Kenya Journal

Nov. 21-22

As I packed my car to leave for Kenya, a hard snow fell. I worked diligently to scrape my car and then started on my journey form winter wonderland to sunny Kenya. I drove to Philadelphia, met up with Vickie and Carl and drove to Newark. Here, we met Dorette and boarded our plane to Amsterdam. After only a few hours of sleep, I was too tired to be excited. I felt like I was just going through the motions and none of it was real. I have wanted to come to Africa for as long as I can remember. Now, at 31, I was finally doing it. Not only was I going to Africa, I was going as an Artist teacher. I am not sure it could get any closer to what I consider a dream. To be honest, I am a little sad that I will not be at home to celebrate my birthday or Thanksgiving, but I also know that I need to be willing to make sacrifices if I am going to do mission work. There are people who say they want to go to Africa or India, or somewhere else in the world to do mission work and there are people who do it. I used to be someone who just talked about it. Then, I realized that I must work hard and make sacrifices if I was actually going to do it.

Christ is in the City

I like the image Howard Moody has of the city as both a sacrament and as a symbiosis. These images were new to me, yet I understood them. Thinking about all of the creations of God coming together in their infinite diversity and appearing as the city is poetic and so real. As city dwellers, we must look inwardly to have a silent and still moment.

However, we must also notice how children playing in the hydrants, jumping rope, or following us around are clear signs of God in the city. Old women sitting on their stoops laughing, sharing their life stories, and keeping an eye on the children are experiences of God in the city. Sleeping with the homeless in Love Park is God alive in the city. God is laughing, crying, screaming, and watching in the city. In the city, God’s children from every corner of the world are gathered and God smiles. His kingdom is coming full circle here as the poor are clothed and fed, prisoners are visited, and flowers spring up from the cracks of the sidewalk where a shooting occurred.

In my childhood, I experienced God in the crackling sounds and vibrant colors of the Aurora Borealis, the crystal clear waters of Alaska’s wilderness, and the magnificent mountain ranges that reached the heavens. As an adult, when I sought God in the city, I didn’t expect to find Him there. To my surprise, I not only found Him, but found Him in abundance. He was in the eyes of the crack feen on my corner, in the cries of the mother who watched her son as he was taken away, and in the laughter of children on my block. It was clear that God was here.

I believe that urban spirituality is found in relationship with others. It is not dependant on nature and solitude, but rather in the connection of one person to another in “everyday experiences.” As a city dweller, I am given the opportunity everyday to help someone who is in need. Though I know that human suffering exists outside the walls of the city, I find it so clear in my everyday experience and, as Freire explains, it has “built a capacity for hope through (my) spirituality.”

Today the test results came back.
It felt like the beginning again.
The cancer hasn’t grown.
Larger or smaller.

Three months of watching his body get pumped full of poison.
Three months of watching him loose his hair, his weight, his strength.

Three weeks of no chemo.
Three weeks of seeing his color return, noticing more whiskers on his cheek, seeing him smile.

Three solid weeks of hope and happiness for the rest of us.
Belief that it was really working.

Another day of wondering why.
Another day of facing the possibility that this might just be a battle he can’t win.
Another day of feeling completely helpless.

My Desire is to Love You

Sometimes I ask people how they know if they love someone. I have been thinking a lot about love lately and thinking about what I believe love is. I was raised a Christian, so I typically look to scripture for answers. In Corinthians, there is a passage that even non-Christians are familiar with because it is read so often at weddings. The thing is, it was not originally written for love in marriage. It was written to give all of us an explanation of how to love one another.

It reads:

Love is PATIENT.
Love is KIND.

Love does not ENVY.
It does not BOAST
It is not PROUD.
It is not RUDE
It is not SELF-SEEKING
It is not easily ANGERED

It keeps NO RECORD OF WRONGS.

LOVE does not DELIGHT IN EVIL but REJOICES WITH THE TRUTH.

LOVE ALWAYS PROTECTS,
ALWAYS TRUSTS,
ALWAYS HOPES,
ALWAYS PERSEVERES.

LOVE NEVER FAILS.


In the last few months, I have left a job I had and loved for nearly 5 years, started a new job, started a grad program, moved to a new house with new housemates, and discovered my dad had a rare form of cancer that is incurable. As a result, I have alienated many of my friends and isolated myself a good deal. Some of my friends have loved me regardless and have put up with the crazy that comes out of my mouth and in my actions. I am humbled and blessed by these friends and am learning so much from them during this time in my life.

Still, I struggle with what it is to love. I have a friend who says, “I love you,” and has asked why I don’t say it back. I look at this verse in Corinthians and realize I have failed my friends and family so many times.

I have lost my patience.
I have been mean.
Instead of rejoicing in their success, I have envied them.
I have been proud and boasted when I did well.
I have been rude.
I have used people for my own benefit.
I have become angry.

I have not only kept records of wrongs but also brought them up over and over and talked about them with others. Sometimes, I just couldn’t let it go.

I have “rejoiced in evil” by finding humor in others’ failure.

I have not always protected them by standing up for them when others have wronged them.
I have not trusted. In fact, I barely ever trust.
I have not been hopeful.
I have given up.

I have failed.

And when I have failed, I felt it. Without even looking at the words in Corinthians, I have felt the absence of love when I have done these things. How many of us, when looking at this verse can see that we have, on at least one occasion, been the complete opposite of love? How many of us have stopped loving someone because they have fallen short of love, even though we know we have done the same? The explanation of love in Corinthians is agape love. It is the highest form of love and I believe the strongest intangible thing in life. When it is done right, you feel it. You know it. You want it. To experience it is to experience a “thin place.” That is, a place where the physical meets the spiritual. To truly feel the Creator’s pull between two people.

I have felt this love from friends, family and the Almighty. It is pure, holy, and extraordinary. So when I say “I love you,” it is hard for me, because I know I haven’t, but I wish I could. Perhaps, what we should be saying is,” My desire is to love you.” That, to me, would be speaking the truth in love.