Visit Up Country

Here in Kenya when someone is going traveling elsewhere in the countryside it is referred to as 'up-country.' It does not matter if it is north or south or wherever... it is still 'up-country.' Mind you as a muzungu (loosely translated as white person) I do seem to get made fun of when referring to 'up-country' because I am not visiting my home land. Nevertheless, I will not stop using the phrase because I think it is a fun colloquialism and sometimes it is nice to be vague in where you are traveling to. Ian's recent pre-business trip was just the right occasion to pull out my new phrase and go up-country with him to see a couple friends from DC who are serving in Eldoret, Kenya.

We left Nairobi around 4am to make the bumpy (and sometimes a little scary) trip up to Eldoret. We arrived in town around 9 and stopped into a local coffee shop to get some breakfast. Sadly, the local breakfast joint was out of juice, bacon, eggs, cheese, and pretty much everything else that is on the breakfast menu, so as Ian zoomed off to a series of meetings in the greater area i sat around consuming as much tea as I could reasonably consume until our friend Dasha came to meet me.

Seeing a familiar face here is always wonderful, and this was no exception. Dasha has been spending her time in Kenya volunteering with a drop-in center for street youth who have just recently become under great attack from the government of the area. Dasha has spent a lot of her time tending to dog bites from when the police set their attack animals on these kids and then any other wounds that are a result from the brutal beatings they receive from the police regularly. Sadly I showed up on Dasha's day off, so I didn't get to meet many of her new friends, but she did show me around to some of her favorite places.
First was the Imani Workshop which is a craft workshop and vocational program for HIV/Aids patients from the local teaching hospital that has international partners.
It was great to see another vocational program where the arts are really adding to people's lives in multiple ways. I always encouraged to know that wherever our giftings lie, there is always room to use them for the good of others and especially those in vulnerable situations.

After catching lunch with Dasha's husband Nate, and Ian we explored the center of Eldoret until Ian's meetings were done. When his work day was over and we had successfully checked in at our roach filled hotel, we headed to Ian's tourist point of choice... the local creamery and cheese making factory.
I don't know how many people have heard this about Ian and me, but we have in the last 6 months or so been working to hone our cheese making abilities. After our time in South Asia left us yearning for cheese that wasn't paneer, we took some of our 'limbo' time to figure out how to make a basic mozzarella and ricotta. The rest is history, as we have been happily making some home made cheese every once and a while for fun, and this interest in cheese sparked Ian's hope to tour this independent creamery.
Our guide Nancy gave us the quick tour of the place since we had come at the end of the day when production was ending. She kindly posed for a picture with us and we told her she should show her teeth when she smiles, because her toothy grin was stunning although she wouldn't go for it on camera.
Right as we got to the part of the tour where we get to taste a number of the cheeses there was a cloud burst. Seasons are pretty predictable around Nairobi.... it is dry or wet. Period. However, up-country this is not as much the case and random downpours do occur regularly.

Rain or no rain, we were determined to sample some cheese and try some of the full-cream in house ice cream. After some sampling of delicious ice cream and probably the best blue cheese I have ever savored, the damage was done and Ian did a little 'grocery shopping.' Good reasonably priced cheese is really difficult to find here, so when opportunity in the form of the best cheese we've had in Kenya at a major discount comes your way you had better seize the day.
After the cheese-purchasing we spent some time with Nate and Dasha as they showed us around their up-country town.
It's always nice to be with people that can understand you on multiple levels. The Smiths were part of NCC in DC and are now working toward doing aid work full time. It's awesome to know you will run into great people in this line of work.

The next morning we were on the road bright and early again for more meetings for Ian. Sadly in the next town we were in there were no familiar faces to visit with, so I once again sat myself down in the local 'coffee shop' for as much tea and 'bitings' (snacks) as I could reasonably dilly-dally through without raising to much suspicion. Sadly this stretched into multiple hours and after a short exploration of the town I settled in another coffee shop for almost a play-for-play repeat of the earlier experience, except with greasy tea and stale ndazi (kind of like a doughnut). Luckily when i was drawing to the last bite of my chewy ndazi, Ian finished his meeting and we were off to lunch to eat... and let him talk on the phone for a conference call. Such is the working life it seems. He's been working hard to get things ready for an upcoming project and it has meant a lot of long phone calls and extra hours of work at home.
After lunch it was back to the road and on our way back to Nairobi. Unlike our trip there, the trip back was actually during day light and we got the chance to see some of the beautiful Rift Valley and spotted zebras and baboons along the road. Also, I could have sworn I saw a couple scenes from Lion King... seriously. Is it just me, or is that Pride Rock?!
Ian will have some long weeks ahead of him making more trips up-country to do research. He's a good sport about it and has been digging into his work and trying his best to do high quality work in sometimes very little comfort with little solid sleep. Please keep him in your prayers as he continues to travel up-country during the next month.
As always, thank you for sharing in this journey with us! We are blessed to be partners with you!
B

Equator hopping

Last week we took a trip up to Western Kenya for Ian to begin some research. While on that excursion we saw a landmark that we knew we needed to stop for!
Here we are (in the middle of nowhere... our driver thought we were nuts) standing on the Equator!

I thought just for fun I would post a pic of when we visited the Prime Meridian in London.

Thanks to our friends and family who have supported in so many ways as we criss-cross the globe! We are proud to represent you around the world :)
B

Love Has a Hem

A little quote and a pic of an Amani quilt in the making. Click to enlarge and save for a desktop back ground. Just a little summer time treat for those of you stuck in the air-conditioning staring at a screen all day :)
B

Visiting Kawangware

Wednesday I went for a home visit to Kawangware. It is one of the slums near central Nairobi where some of the ladies from Amani live.

I made the mistake of forgetting my camera, but here's a fairly recent photo of part of Kawangware.

It is a moderately developed area with various buildings mixed with tin structures. The place where Margaret and Anita live is in a concrete building. They live on the top most floor in a tiny apartment. It has a small kitchen and washroom and living/bedroom. They have a humble home, but it is tidy and well organized.

I don't know what much to say about the visit, but that it makes me proud to be part of a family of Christians. Margaret began helping her friend Phyllis when Phyllis was diagnosed or "discovered" with HIV in 2000. Margaret was diagnosed in 2007. They are good friends and spend time reading the Bible together and encouraging one another through their illness.

It was so encouraging to hear the word from Grace as she shared a devotion today at Margaret's home. She shared from Exodus 22.

21 "Do not mistreat an alien or oppress him, for you were aliens in Egypt.

22 "Do not take advantage of a widow or an orphan. 23 If you do and they cry out to me, I will certainly hear their cry. 24 My anger will be aroused, and I will kill you with the sword; your wives will become widows and your children fatherless.

Many of the women there were single mothers or widows including one from one of the visiting mission team.
Grace shared how God cares for women who have been left alone by being widowed or have had men leave them. He loves them so much that He has put it in his law.

She also shared that she was glad about the part in this passage about the alien... or foreigner. She said she was so glad that God had made it possible for these foreigners to visit them and was thankful for the love that they have brought. She thanked God that he has loved us so much that these foreigners have love to give to the Amani ladies in Africa.

She then said something that was shocking to me. She told us that helping those in need was something that was more built in to our culture, and that in Africa it is not so and is often very difficult or does not happen. She was grateful to God that our culture has sent us to her with so much love.

This affected me in a strange way. I know there are many loving people in the USA. I know many of them both inside the church and out. I have heard from political minds on other continents how giving the American public is. I guess I have just never thought of helping those in need as being something in my culture. I think I see where this is coming from in her mind, especially in the midst of literal hand to mouth existence here for many people. Still, this shocked me to think about. I think, perhaps the Americans they meet are the people who really want to love them and help.

This hurt my heart though. Americans, in my experience, are very willing to open up and want to give to the poor internationally. The outcry after the disaster in Haiti was just a small fringe of what American private aid does. When Americans go on short term mission trips or short term relief work they throw themselves into the work and into loving the people that they meet. However, back on our own home soil we sometimes have a harder time loving the poor and pouring ourselves and our resources into them.

African widow needs dental work? no problem... here's a couple hundred dollars. Single mom in East St. Louis needs a cavity filled? Too bad... she should work harder so she can pay for it. I remember after Katrina hearing something so similar to this from someone I have respected since childhood that I was greatly taken aback.

I know this isn't the attitude among all American people, but it is enough that I find it disturbing to consider that 'helping those in need is built in to my culture.' I am also aware that being a young American who travels primarily for the sake of working in development or missions that I can be very tough on my fellow Americans... and especially American Christians. Even knowing my biases against my own people, it is hard for me to accept that compared to other cultures mine appears to have 'help those in need' somehow embedded in it.

I walked my short walk home after returning to Amani from the visit. I said hello to Joel(Jo-el) who runs a shop by the rickety bridge I cross. I have been beginning to make small informal relationships along the walk to and from work. Joel is one of the shop keepers I have met. I am often a strange sight walking along that road as I am usually to only non-African not in a vehicle. Sure there are white people and Indians in cars, but never on foot. I try to act like this is normal and go along my merry way saying hello to the many shop keepers, food vendors, and bicycle repair men I have come to recognize. I am sure they find my friendliness amusing. I however find it challenging and a constant step out of my comfort zone.

I arrived home and stopped to talk to our guard Benjamin. He has been trying teach me Kiswahili and has been a bright spot of my day from the moment we moved in. I just learned that Benjamin is half Rwandan and used to be a teacher.

I use my limited Kiswahili to ask Benjamin how he is and he tells me he is fine. I ask him about his day, and it has been very good. He asks me if I have had a lot of work today. I am home almost an hour and a half later than usual because of the home visit. I tell him that I have been visiting friends in Kawangware and he asks me if I actually went to Kawangware.
"Yes. I went to their home to visit."
"Oh! IN Kawangware?"
"Yes."
"Were you shocked at the conditions?" he asked me.
I told him I wasn't at all. "I am very much accustomed to areas like Kawangware. I really enjoyed seeing their home!"
Benjamin was impressed at this. He told me that it is such a good thing and that I visited and that it makes people in those area feel special and respected and affirmed as people. He also told me that I have a good heart and that someday when we visit him it will be very good because we will not be shocked at where he stays.

He was amazed to hear that we also had made friends in Kibera and that I have visited and plan to visit again.

I mentioned to him that there are poor in the USA as well, and even people who live on the street or in places in the middle of nowhere that have only just gotten electricity (like in some of Appalachia), but that many people refuse to realize that these things exist in my own country or they simply have no idea.

He was glad to hear that I was willing to go to these places in Kenya and meet these people. It made him very happy, I think, to know that I thought it was okay to live in places that don't look like the luxury condos that he guards every day.

I realized when I finally said goodbye to Benjamin and went up to our flat, that I have slowly been becoming comfortable with urban slums in the developing world throughout my life and that I am grateful to the community that encouraged me as a young person to open my heart to people in circumstances different to my own.

My home church in Michigan, MCRC, and my family have always been very supportive of my international travels, and our home church in DC, National Community Church, has also stood behind us as we have taken steps toward working in development. Also our Greenville College family, our friends from Christian Legal Society, and other like minded humanitarian lawyers and professionals have given us permission over and over again to live and love radically.

I am so blessed.

Without perhaps even knowing it, these communities have saved me from another type of poverty. They have rescued me from having an impoverished heart. The ability to be comfortable visiting people in different circumstances without feeling ruffled at all is due to the investment that others have made in me over the years and I am sitting in out flat in Africa feeling so very blessed to have such investors on my side.

Even if helping those in need is not something that is obvious to me in my own culture, I think it is awesome that widows in Africa can see the investment of people who have stretched me and encouraged me to live outside of the box. I cherish that the final product that these women recognize is that of love.

Thank you to all of you who have invested in Ian and me so that we can invest in the people we meet here.
B

Goodies and the Post Office Debacle

Ian worked really hard to get this package, so it definitely deserves its' own post.
We just received our first package in Kenya! How fun!


The only part that wasn't fun was picking it from the customs office at the Posta down town. We went on Tuesday n our way to pick our furniture and it was a bit of a disaster. Ian took off from work early and we took a cab downtown. The traffic was a beast, but we managed to get to the post office around 3:30. After waiting in line and waiting in line we were finally told to open our package and see what was inside so that they could assess it for customs charges. We found a whole bunch of goodies from our buddy Kate Netzler complete with some treats from her recent trip to China.

After taking inventory and giving us a bill for about $5 the post office man told Ian to go to the next desk then accross the hall to get various papers stamped and approved. He told me to pack everything back in the box and re-tape the box. what? why?

Ian came back to tell me after all of his running from counter to counter that we had to go across the street to pay our fees at some bank. The Posta man said "The bank closes at four. You'll have to return." By this time it is 5 minutes past four. Argh!

Another woman working behind the counter gave us directions to try and get help so that we could get our box. No dice. The best we received was that we could send someone with a copy of Ian's passport. blerg.

So Friday Ian took his lunch to go downtown again. When he arrived at one o'clock he was told that they were taking lunch from 1 to 2 and no one could help him. Good grief! needless to say he was peeved and had to wait a whole hour just to wait in lines again.

Luckily he was successful this time and came home baring all sorts of goodies including shark fin flavored biscuit sticks, new shirts for each of us, and the Greenville College Record alumni publication.

We're excited to have a little bit of Kate here with us and also glad that we now know when not to go to the post office. (Better luck next time I guess.)

Thank you Kate for encouraging us and sending us birthday goodies! We are so blessed to have you as a friend!
B

Struggling through

I have had a hectic past month at Amani and Thursday a couple weeks ago was almost my tipping point.

Ramona* is from Uganda. her husband worked for the government that was overthrown or something of that nature and they have been refugees in Kenya for some time. I automatically loved her. She reminds me of my mother, I think. That is probably one of many reasons why when Amani couldn't give her a loan the size she was asking for that I lost it.

As far as we know her son is in prison in Uganda. We don't know why or how long he has been there, but he is in his early twenties and from what i understand was working with computers and I think going to university and now he is in prison. Ramona is trying to go back there and bail him out and bring him here to Kenya. As far as we know there are some problems with this. First, if he leaves before a court date he could be seen as fleeing from justice and be at risk of never really being able t travel again, or even just put straight back into prison if he is flagged at the border of Uganda with a warrant. Second, we have no idea what he did. Third, there seems to be no clear answers in any direction about how much they would need to get him out or anything.

When I was in the room when Ramona was getting the loan she thanked us and thanked God and then said she wouldn't even be able to leave with this much. 10,000 shillings is about $150. it isn't much. We dropped twice that much on furniture this weekend. What do I do?
After taking the loan and seeming so downcast at the small amount she left the office leaving myself and Pat sitting in silence. Pat has a hard job. She is the HR person and in many ways the advocate for these women. She used to be a principal at an arts university. She is a sharp lady and I like her. She is tough but merciful; what a wonderful combination. We looked at each other and she said "what do we do?" and I looked at her and said "I don't know" and I busted into tears. I lost it. Pat talked me through her struggles working at Amani where these women are sometimes paid very little, although better than they would be in other places. She encouraged me that God loves them and we don't understand his ways and that money is not always the answer. I really appreciated it even if none of my questions are answered and my heart is still in turmoil.

Ramona is obviously in low spirits. She needs 9000 more shillings at least and I just don't think i can do that. I know I can't give it to her directly anyhow. As a person who is very much a gift-love-language person... this hurts my heart. I want to give her whatever i can, but i can't. Not without the details and not on the budget we have. how do I chose who to help?

Lori* is another one. She's been sick this week and I met her on the road on my way to work and she was going to the hospital. I wanted to throw her in a cab and bring her there myself, but it is hard with precedent setting. I realize poverty is multi-faceted. Helping someone for a season may actually be a burden if they become dependent. The best thing i can do is pray and continue to encourage them as they continue to work towards sustainability. I can help set up programs that will create jobs and opportunities and I am trying to do that. I'm just struggling with always seeing the real face of the poverty and hurt that we've come to help.

I meet so many people in difficult circumstances here, and not just financially. Many people regardless of their income need hope. Aid and missions workers need this even more than others often. They stare hard circumstances in the face daily and work their tails off to make change happen, often to little praise... if any. The amount of bitterness that can seep into their hearts is uncanny, and it is not always shown in the ways we would think.

The inability to listen to others well is one of those things I have noticed in a number of missions workers since we have been on this journey. It seems to spring directly from some of the bitterness they have acquired, often because they have been taken advantage of by someone or some organization. This is a huge attack on the work that relief workers do. Yes, there are often many people vying for position in our schedules, but what good are we if we cannot listen and really hear what is going on? We are very little good, especially in a cross cultural context where listening is key to our understanding which is key to learning how to serve.

I guess this brings me to self-care. Self-care for Aid workers, relief workers, and missionaries is paramount They need a support network that is often not given to them. Maybe this is a strange cry in an odd direction, but if you are reading this you should know that the situation I have been put in above is barely even the tip of the iceberg for many people out in the field. If I have learned anything from this experience so far, it is that working this type of work can be a very lonely road. I have been blessed by you, our supporters, friends, and family with a wonderful extended network of support. Still, I know that not all people in my position have that network. Please consider being the person who encourages someone who is out doing amazing peace-building and development work. It sounds all nice and fluffy, but it is a tough road and they need to hear from you especially during times of moral dilemmas (which generally is every day).

May we be agents of peace and hope wherever we go and in all that we do.
B

(*real names have been changed to protect the identity of those in vulnerable situations)

Visiting Kibera

It's been a while without a substantial post, and I will give you all the down-low on why! I (Bekah) have finally begun working with the foundation I was hoping to get to partner with and it has been super-duper busy. I have hardly gotten a moment to breathe! More on that later though....

The day before I jumped in to my current position I went on a visit to the Kibera slum with my friend Lesley who helps plant urban gardens. Lesley has a passion for nutrition and is working to educate women with HIV especially on the benefits that good nutrition can have for their quality of life. She is a lovely gal and we have been blessed to come in contact with her and her husband Michael and hope we get to spend some more time with them in the future!


I had been hoping to take a trip into Kibera with Lesley for a while and was excited to get the chance to see what she was up to and meet some of her friends and co-laborers in the gardening effort.
We began our journey into Kibera in Lesley's car bumping along some of the dirt paths down to the school where one of the gardens is located. We were supposed to meet Stella who is one of the most faithful volunteers for the gardens. In return for her efforts she gets the benefit of the produce.
Stella was still on her way to meet us so we journeyed ahead to the daycare where Stella's son stays while she is working. Stella is a young single mother living in the Kibera slum
and is the only one caring for her tiny son.

The daycare was mostly a room with dirt walls a cement floor and a tin roof filled with tiny children. The nice lady running the daycare welcomed us and gave us all hugs. She told us that many of the women whose children come to the daycare have a hard time paying the fee for a day's stay for their babies which is 20 shilings... equivalent to just under 25 cents USD. These women spend most days looking for work to make ends meet for their families.
The little ones were enamored with our cameras and had plenty of smiles and giggles at getting to see themselves on the screen. Many of these children are undernourished which will greatly effect their development, especially in these early years. Still, they are full of smiles once they get over the fact that there are scary white people (maybe the first some of them have seen) visiting them.
As we left we passed by one of the main water sources fr the area; a polluted creek. Clean water is one of the things most needed in area like this. Children and adults alike die from water-born illness and dysentery.

We then made our way to a little school near-by and had time to play with the kids and talk with the staff. Many of the staff had grown up in the same slum and had dreams of teaching.

They make due with what they have and many have worked hard to get books and desks for the school. Still, life is difficult in Kibera and many of the children will end up dropping out of school for lack of school fees or various other reasons. Due to the large amounts of rain we'd been having here a couple of the walls in the school had washed out, and the one in their 'kitchen' was completely gone.

The amount of positivity here is still overwhelming. Even though it was a short visit to Africa's largest slum, I was grateful to get a glimpse into the lives of many of the people I meet here. They are often struggling to make ends meet in often grim circumstances, but there are glimmers of hope.
Educators who know that and education will give the next generation a boost up in the world.

Women like Stella who are volunteering in urban gardens.

People like Lesley who have befriended people in Kibera and are working to improve their lives in sustainable ways. And of course, the enthusiasm of children who still play games, tell jokes, and laugh in the face of great adversity.
God Bless Kenya.
B