house help and ministry opportunities

In America, someone who has someone else do their laundry and dishes is considered very rich. In some parts of the world, this person is considered lazy. In other parts of the world, like Kenya, this person is considered generous. It really has taken me a long time to get used to the idea of house help. Growing up in an American culture, I assume anyone with house help is rich. So to be a missionary, someone who is there to serve the people, why on earth would they want to put forth such an extravagant display of wealth?

You have to take a step back and put it into a cultural perspective. In Kenya, the unemployment rate is somewhere in the neighborhood of 35%. Those who do work usually don't make enough money for the average American to consider survivable. So many AIM missionaries hire house help, because it helps everyone. If the house helper didn't work for a missionary, she wouldn't have that income at all. Kenyans see people who do not have house help when they can afford it as greedy.

In addition to ministering to the locals, it allows this house helper to be a part of the missionary's ministry. One of my friends here loves to tell her house helper what she has been doing in her ministry. She always finishes by saying, "without you, I would not be able to do this." The house helper is just as much a part of my friend's ministry as she is.

After realizing this, I decided that house help isn't such a bad idea, if it is culturally acceptable. Yes, I do feel spoiled to have someone wash my dishes and do my laundry. I guess that is one more thing I will have to adjust to when I get back to the states :) only 2 and a half weeks!

a day in the life-Nairobi

There aren't too many places in the world where you can see safari wildlife within the city limits. So when Faith suggested we go to the animal orphanage on Saturday, I figured life couldn't get much better than that. But, being a typical African, none of us had cars, so we used the favored method of transportation around here--the imfamous matatus. Now, Matatus arent too bad if you are African. No one tries to charge you exorbitantly, and they generally dont give you any hassle or special attention due to your skin color. For me, its a completely different story. But Faith knows the system, so I felt confident riding with her and her friend Eunice.

First stop of the day was back at Faith's place. As is tradition with African culture, she showed me her home and we took chai and a bread-like snack of our choice. Her place is in an area called Rondai. It took about 30 minutes to get there on the Matatu, so it is quite a ways out. She told me that it takes her an hour and a half in the morning to get to work because of all the traffic. She leaves before I am usually out of bed...

We got out and she and Eunice led the way into a shack village, around one corner after another, ducking under clothes lines, walking past mothers washing old plastic dishes, and children playing. As usual, most of the children stared in awe at my white skin. "They don't see too many mzungus around here, do they?" I asked Faith. We stopped at a door near the end of the corrugated aluminum line, and Faith opened the door.

Her entire house, the space that she shares with a friend, is smaller than the office at my house. There is a double bed pushed into one corner, with enough room for a small TV and a pile of dishes at its foot. There was a small table with two stools, as well as a few other accessories on the other side of the room.

After chai, we headed back into town to the game park. Faith had never seen a lion or a hyena before, so seeing both of those animals was a huge treat for her. My favorite part was the cheetahs. We were standing watching one of the cats, and a keeper came up. Faith started talking to him in rapid-fire swahili. Before I knew what in the world was going on, she told me to follow her as she ducked around behind the fence toward the gate, following the keeper. Next thing I know, we are in the cheetah cage, petting the cheetah. It acted just like a big cat, purring and licking my arm. I think it was there at a young age, so it is very tame. The lions and other animals were cool to see, but nothing beats petting a cheetah.

That afternoon, we planned on going to Bomas of Kenya, a place where different tribes come and show their native dances. It was really cool to see the different dances and the ways the different tribes dress.

All in all, it was a great day with Faith. I really enjoyed spending a day in the city with a local Kenyan.

another week

moved this weekend, and am really excited about the new place!! I will have to put pictures up when Kate is finished painting.

On sunday, Jose (missionary from Honduras) and family took me to the ostrich farm. Thats right, Ostrich. Its about an hours drive out of town, but it was really fun and a great place. Ostrich meat is pretty amazing!! There was opportunity to ride an ostrich, but when the ugly thing was staring at me with its mouth open, growling, I decided against it.

As I was sitting in church, I was thinking about cultures and coming home. As much as I dislike parts of the American culture, it is what I know. I grew up with it, I know how it works, and how to work it. But the past two months I have been learning about Kenyan culture, specifically Nairobian culture. As unfamiliar and different as it is, I have been learning to exist within it. I dont begin to understand how it works, but I have grown accustomed to it. Or at least accustomed to not understanding it.

I started considering how I am going to have to re-adapt to Texas American culture, then back to Oregon American culture, then Alaskan culture all in about two months time. Then the Revelation really hit me. I don't belong to this world; I don't belong to these cultures. I have to work within them and adapt to them, but its just a temporary visit on a much bigger, eternal scale. I think people who do not understand cultures have a lot harder time with this concept. They like their culture; they are comfortable with it. But it is not going to last. Are you comfortable with your world? Who's world are you really living in?

I realized more than ever that I am simply visiting this planet for a short while (what is the average American lifespan?), preparing to go home.

more pictures

lake naivasha (animals and stuff): http://picasaweb.google.com/wind.rider.05/AfricaNaivasha?authkey=Gv1sRgCLjV8oX2mJaNew#

up country: http://picasaweb.google.com/wind.rider.05/UpCountryWest?authkey=Gv1sRgCIuamaOKzo7y7gE

moving again

Well all, its time for my last move until I leave. Kind of sad to think about... my new roommate is a new full term gal with the on field media team. Should be fun!! I will live with her for 3 weeks before heading back to the states. Am I really going home already? I dont know how I feel about that...

After moving on Saturday, Jose, one of the missionaries here, has invited me to go to the ostrich farm with his family. I am sure the pictures will be highly amusing for all of you...

pics from the past weekend at lake Naivasha are in the process, I will give you the link soon. also... I will get you a pic of me flying the DC-3 soon too!

up country weekend part 3 (of 3)

Saturday morning, I woke up at 6 in the morning. Remember how I said everything can be heard in the house since there is no ceiling? That is the cause for my early morning wake up call. Rosemary was praying. Not going to lie, it is pretty cool to hear an African Mami praying for her friends who have come so far to see the childrens. It was quite a blessing to start the day.

After breakfast and tea, we hoofed it over to the orphanage, which really isn’t that far away. The kids were playing at the small compound, and were excited to see us. They know Rosemary, and they were excited to see the mzungus. Angie and I already had our cameras out, and the kids rushed to get in the pictures. It was IMPOSSIBLE to get candid shots, because the kids were so curious to see themselves.

Rosemary gave us a tour of the small compound. They have one classroom, an office, and a stand alone kitchen. Andy by kitchen, I mean 4 sheets of corrugated metal, about waist high, tied to branches in the corner, with another sheet of metal on top to make the roof. It works though, especially since they use an actual fire to cook.

After some time there, we went to the beach. Although it was not an ocean beach like I am accustomed to, it was pretty incredible. The view was great, but the most interesting part was the people fishing. They had these huge nets far into the lake, and about 15 people per net pulling them in slowly. From what we could see, they hadn’t caught anything. I imagine the net is pretty similar to the ones they used in Jesus’ time. In fact, the methods probably are very similar.

At that point, Angie and I had decided that we wanted to go out on the lake in a boat. Seriously, who gets to go on a boat on Lake Victoria? I knew it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I wanted to go for it. So Rosemary talked to several boaters, and finally found us a ride. I was marginally concerned, but was confident in my swimming skills. The snails kept me from a true desire to swim, but I knew I could save my own life.

Angie and I emphasized that we did NOT want a three hour tour. As we were cruising around, I looked down and noticed a small fountain of lake water coming into the boat. Thankfully, they would bail the water out every once in a while, so it wasn’t like we were going to sink or anything. Just a little leak. No biggie. I did not point it out to Angie until we were safely near the shore.

We then hiked back to the orphanage at high noon. I think I might have inhaled an entire colony of flies. We only had to ask for directions once, and found our way back from there. Luckily Patrick, one of the guys who works at the orphanage, was with us and able to lead us, or else we would be really lost.

The children had a presentation ready for us. They sang about how grateful they are to us for visiting, and to ask for our prayers. They don’t have parents, and who is left to care for them? The guardians they stay with make them work. They are the first ones up, the last ones to bed.

After the presentation, they played a little while before it was time for lunch. They serve the littlest first, all the way up. The bowls were full, but they were mostly full of maize. Rosemary and staff would love it if they were full of beans, but beans are expensive. The maize at least fills there tummies, even if it has no nutritional value. They don’t even have silverware to eat with, just their hands.

I noticed one thing while we were there. These kids don’t really smile. I saw a couple of half smiles, but mostly when they were posing for pictures. They weren’t genuinely joyful. When I got home from the trip, I saw the kids of the family I was staying with that were perfectly healthy, fed, and happy. The orphans did nothing to deserve losing their parents to aides. They did nothing to have the innocence of childhood ripped from them.

I took a few more pictures before we said our goodbyes and went for our own lunch of African food. We didn’t leave till 1 or 1:30, so our lunch was even later. That afternoon we relaxed before heading into town around 4pm. Rosemary needed to get the next weeks worth of food for the kids. I think she expected Angie and me to have money that would feed the kids for the whole week. I hate that they think just because my skin is white, I can make money appear in my pocket.

I understand that food is a huge need, but there was another need that I saw. Patrick, basically the director of the orphanage, has to walk everywhere. When a child is sick, he has to care the kid all the way into town, which is at least 10 km. He has to walk to take care of food, and they have to bring water up from the village on foot. A bike would take so many burdens off of him. A bike that costs around 80 USD. I bought Patrick a bike that afternoon. Food is important, yes, but the bicycle provides a service that will enable Patrick to work so much more efficiently and effectively. Sort of like the way I want to use airplanes.

Wherever we stopped in the village, a group of kids would gather and stare at Angie and me. I knew they were going to be curious, but I didn’t anticipate how unsettling it is to have a group of kids just standing there staring, giggling behind my back. As we walked home, a crowd of about 50 gathered behind us, and started singing. I have no idea what they were saying, nor do I really want to know. All I know is that it has something to do with white people. They didn’t even leave when we walked into the house. We had to ask someone at the house to tell them to leave. I was frustrated with being on display.

That evening, Rosemary had a long meeting with the small staff in the living room. They were talking in Swahili, so I heard everything through the ceiling and didn’t understand a bit of it. I went out to greet them and explain why I felt the need to buy the bike. So I was able to do a small part to meet their needs.

We prepared to leave at 8 the next morning. We were packed back in the car at the mzungu 8, not the African 8. We were told that it would only take 6-7 hours, and we would be home in 4 hours from Kisumu. Africans aren’t very good at predicting time.

We stopped to see Betty’s grandmother before even leaving the village. That visit took a half hour. Again, the crowds of kids gathered. Betty also loves fish, and the fish from the village are much cheaper than in Nairobi, so we stopped to pick some up for her.

Now lets think about the fish for a second. Unlike in America where the fish is nicely packaged and preserved in ice, these little sunbaked sardines smell wretched. Thankfully, they went in the trunk. Angie and I prayed our stuff would not smell like fish as the scent wafted through the car.

Finally we got on the road, and stopped again a ways out of Kisumu to visit more people. The African way of life… so between the visits, we killed an hour. Oh well… In Kisumu, we picked up some full sized Tilapia, having a similar scent to the aforementioned miniatures.

All in all, we were on the road for 11 hours, including visits. I don’t know how that trip could be made in less than 10 hours.

Sudan and back

So the trip to Sudan was awesome. We flew from Nairobi to Yei where we picked up 36 passengers. Mostly women, a few men and about 6 babies. From what one of the ladies was telling me, I think they were all students at a Bible school there. The more experienced fliers had only been on a plane a handful of times, so my primary job was to teach them how to use seatbelts and gather used sick sacks. It was really fun to watch their reacton to the turbulence. Every little bump had someone screaming, crying, laughing, puking, and more. Several women grabbed for my hand, searching for some form of comfort from the terror. I just laughed along with them.

And now I am back to maintenance!!

I get to go on an airplane!!

Ok, so today was not very much fun. I hit my hand with a hammer, stabbed myself with a cotter pin, dropped half of the nose gear on my foot, and generally getting hung up on every single little thing I tried to do. Blah.

In light of these events, I have decided to no longer be a mechanic, and pursue a career as a flight attendant. So I will be journeying to Sudan tomorrow as a flight attendant on the DC-3 with Samaritan's Purse.

up country part 2

I have the whole thing written, but I realize this is post number 3 for today, so I will leave that for later.

I stumbled out of the car, wondering what this house had in store for me the next couple of days. Lights hung in the rooms, but no electricity reached the house yet. There was running water from somewhere. The ceiling wasn’t complete, so noise carried through the whole house. There was a roof, just no ceiling. The front room had an ancient set of furniture that complained every time someone sat down. Three chairs surrounded the dining room table. The kitchen had a sink and a few counters, but no real stove. There were little stoves that they brought in, that they put charcoal in the base, and it cooks the food. Kind of like a Dutch oven type of idea.

A staple of Kenyan life seems to be tea, so the first order of business was to get the tea going. Which they cook over a fire outside. Goooooooood stuff. While we enjoyed our tea, we also enjoyed the incredible view of Lake Victoria. I stopped to listen to the noise of the village. Birds singing, various farm animals making their noises. Despite the noise, it is incredibly peaceful. As I breathed in the fresh clean air, I felt time slowing down; I could feel the African way of life.

We had Kenyan food the whole weekend. Have you ever noticed there are no Kenyan restaurants around the world? I experienced some of the reasoning behind that.
Reason # 1: Ugali. It is prepared a few different ways, but it is similar to grits. One way I have had it has the same consistency as glue. The other uses much less water; it can be rolled up into balls, etc. still tastes like glue.
Reason # 2: Sikumawiki. Cabbage-ish Kale stuff, cooked, and salty. I imagine it is similar to eating seaweed. If my life depended on it, I could probably choke it down.
Reason # 3: spices? What are those? Kenyans don’t use spices.
You probably get the picture. There is more, but that probably is sufficient. Betty described a meal to us that they make with fish, and it sounded absolutely disgusting. I am so glad we didn’t have a chance to get fish for that meal before we left.


We walked down to the lake before it got too dark. We had already seen a few kids earlier in the evening, and this time we saw more people. Their eyes lit up when I used the Swahili greeting “habari” as we walked by. Most of these people had never seen a white person. Now not only did they see two whites, one of them spoke in a language the villagers understood.

When we were at the lake itself, there were about 20 villagers hanging out down there. Betty laughed at something they said in Swahili, which she translated later for us. The lines went down like this:
“who brought the Mzungus?”
“I don’t know. Who is having Mzungu babies that we don’t know about?”
We are obviously a sight wherever we go, especially to the children who do not realize it isn’t polite to stare.

We headed back to the house and had dinner around 8:30, then Angie and I were ready to head to bed. It had been a long day, and we had another long one tomorrow. There is a hill behind the house that I was tempted to climb to watch the sunrise over Lake Victoria. Funny how that didn’t happen… Best laid plans, right? It would have been gorgeous, but the sleep was really nice too.

more to come...

more pics!

The much anticipated hangar pictures!! Sorry, I thought I got these up before. Apparently I forgot. Or something.

http://picasaweb.google.com/wind.rider.05/AfricaHangarStuff?authkey=Gv1sRgCOPzzfiWlvnzJg

So not very good at keeping up with this...

Hey all,

Sorry I haven't been keeping up with this to well. I am about a week and a half behind, and when I do write, it is a huge long post detailing my latest adventure. So here is a hopefully shorter, more current snippet before I go back and finish talking about my weekend up country.

Work in the hangar is going well. I spent some time working on the turbine fleet, but now am back to the project plane. It is fun to build an airplane :) The project manager is keeping a blog with pictures at silverbulletrebuild.blogspot.com if you want to take a look!

I am kind of tired of living out of a suitcase. I have not been somewhere for more than two weeks before moving again. It has been fun staying with different families and seeing the way their lives work in a different country, but I am ready to be on my own :)

This weekend, I am going on a trip to Lake Navasha. We will be staying in a cottage, and hanging out with the hippos. Of course, there is a fence, so we will be safe!! Me and a few other missionary ladies are going. Its going to be really fun.

Well, lunch is almost over, so I am going to wrap this up!!