Monday, September 29, 2008

Jambo.

2nd consecutive day of internet and I figure I should make the most of it, regardless of how slow this connection is… never take your high speed wireless for granted!!!

Words are just going to have to suffice until I figure out how to post pictures.. it just won't work at this internet cafe. Please don't die of boredom.

I have survived 7 out of the 7 main forms of transportation in Kenya, and am still alive, praise Jesus. Because TI has no official vehicle, we take the matatus most places, or kanguroos. Friday in town we all piled into the back of a pick up with hand rails on it.. not sure what the official title of that one is. Saturday we went to visit the orphanage TI supports; we got half way there in matatus and the rest of the way on boda bodas, which are bikes with tiny seats on the back. This is particularly fun when all the drivers decide to race each other down a hill and you are hanging off the back of the bike screaming “pole! pole!” (slow) . The public buses here are similar to Costa Rica ones (hot, crowded, with a dash of chaos); the taxis are the fastest and easiest way to go if you’re not by yourself or getting ripped off for being mzungu (white).Yesterday I experienced a piki piki, aka motorcycle, for the first time. This was rather intimidating considering the huge 3rd degree burn Young Lauren has from her leg touching a piki piki’s very hot exhaust pipe last week. I was holding a big roll of posterboard with one hand and the back of the seat with the other, trying to figure out where the pipe was so I wouldn’t get a matching burn. First instinct is to hold on to the drivers’ waist for dear life, but women touching men here is taboo so that’s not an option. At this point you look around at all the other people going way too fast on all different kinds of completely unsafe vehicles, and realize, God exists. The buses here have huge pictures of Jesus’ face on the back and “God We Trust” in big letters, and it is true that if you don’t believe in God by the time you exit the bus alive, something is wrong with you.

Apart from Lauren’s impressive burn (which is uncannily shaped very much like Kenya), everyone is more or less healthy. The malaria meds most people are on help wield off most sicknesses we might otherwise get. Nate and I were playing soccer with the orphanage kids Saturday and he managed to slice the bottoms of both feet open, which is quite inconvenient for all the walking we do around here, but they are healing well and not infected. Old Lauren has ‘wilderness cpr and first aid’ training, which comes in handy at least 3 times a day.

All glory to God: there is a functioning shower. I was preparing myself for 3 months of cold bucket baths. Every morning we pray for lots of rain at the most convenient times of the day so the shower tanks will fill up enough for everyone to shower in the evening. When people are out of water, sometimes the city pumps more into the tanks, and sometimes it doesn’t. Fortunately the last few days of no rain, the pumps have been turned on, always right before we are about to run dry. Everyone takes very quick showers (I try not to turn on the electric water heater because the cold makes me finish faster) and ‘recycles’ a lot of water, ie uses the kitchen water to water plants, or the water we wash clothes in to flush the toilet. ‘If it’s yellow let it mellow, if it’s brown flush it down” definitely applies in these occassions.

The climate here is absolutely amazing. Mornings and evenings are cool, and the days are clear and sunny, now that the rainy season is over. Yet again I realize: I can handle so many things if I have sunshine.

Yesterday we visited the house of Daniel Jouma and his 26 children. He is a former orphan himself, with a wife and 6 biological children, and he started taking in kids 8 years ago. It is ridiculous how smoothly their household runs, how faithfully God provides every single little thing they need, and how happy all the kids are. I asked Daniel if there’s ever any animosity from his own kids towards the foster children, and he said no, they would rather sit on the couch and let the foster kids sit on his lap because they want them to feel how good it is to have a father. All but two of the children are sponsored by people in Canada and Holland.

It is so bittersweet to hear their stories of having absolutely no one and nothing before, and seeing how happy they are to be in this family. There were 2 sisters, 4 and 6, whose parents were both killed in the election violence. Before, they were living in a very nice house in a wealthy neighborhood, and now they are in a tiny hut with 26 other people, but were without a doubt some of the happiest kids there. That is mind boggling to me. Daniel Jouma is also a huge advocate of helping these kids get their inherited land before the government or other family members take it over. One of the boys, Stanley, a 15 year old ex-street kid, recently won a court case fighting to get his land back from his uncle, who tried to claim it after Stanley’s Mum died. It may seem like a silly thing to fight for, but in most cases it is the ONLY thing these kids will ever have to their name, and something they can rent out and have income from later in their adult lives.

Off to get the groceries home. The fridge broke yesterday and we are hoping it can be repaired today vs. buying a whole new one..

Love to you all!
*a

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