After we arrived back at the Lowenberg's house from visiting Pastor Vincent's church, we had about an hour of down time before getting ready to go to the MK progressive Christmas dinner. In so many ways, I feel like I've been an honorary MK this last week. Julia, Ruthie, and I wrapped our Christmas gifts for the gift exchange, then hurried over to the Burr's house. The Burrs are the directors of the East African Convoy of Hope and have 3 kids: Reed, Riley, and Raelyn. I find it awesome that we once again arrived nearly 20 minutes late, but because it's Africa, it's ok :) You're pretty much on time.
So, the Burrs had appetizers, then we headed to the Nelson's house for egg nog/ hot chocolate and the Christmas stories. The Nelson's have 4 kids (but only 2 here now): Jonathan, Joelle, Jenny, and Josh. House number 3 was the Bass's, and we had the main course there. There were about 20 MKs making these rotations and they ranged in age from about 5 to 25. All of the houses were full and overflowing with laughter and energy. The Bass family has 2 kids: Joseph and Anna. After the meal, we did the gift exchange, drawing numbers for our turn and only being allowed to steal a gift once.
The final house was the Pennington's house. They have 3 kids: Josiah, Priscilla, and Micah. Dessert was served here, and all of the parents joined the party here. After singing some Christmas songs, Santa arrived with gifts for everyone! Including me, the honorary MK :) As the party came to an end, there was still one more tradition: Capture the Flag. And I definitely played, although all of the other girls were somewhat lame and claimed they were too tired to run around ;)
So it was just me, Anna, Taylor, and about 8 other guys. I love playing Capture the Flag, and it was even better playing it with a group that thrived on the tradition. We played 2 games, I got in jail both times, and my team lost both times, and it still was one of the funnest games I have ever played in my life! The MKs here are absolutely amazing and I have enjoyed spending time getting to know them. Most of the kids I played with last night were about 11-16 years old and it was so wonderful to be with young people. After our crushing loss, we returned to the Pennington's house for a game of Cranium and then late-night goodbyes. Aunt Trina commented to me that I was officially one of them after the night (especially since I had joined in on Capture the Flag), and it was one of the nicest things she could have said to me.
In a lot of ways, missionary families are like homeschool families. You have a special interest that uniquely bonds you to other people just like you. Sometimes others people can't understand your way of living, but you love being together and having fun. Age is not a factor and everyone just gets along - whether it's your friend or your friend's siblings. There's a feeling of community and shared love. The parents all like to hang out together and are at ease with one another. Conversations can last for hours. I love being part of this group and felt privileged to be allowed to share in this evening with them.
Last night was also a record since I've been here. I was still awake past 10 p.m. and didn't get to sleep until about an hour later. However, it was probably one of the worst nights to have stayed up so late, because this morning we had to be ready to leave by 6:30 a.m. to head out for the medical clinic. Oh well! I wouldn't have traded the evening for anything.
Showing posts with label Day 7. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Day 7. Show all posts
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Day 7 (part 1): Mathare
I feel like 10,000 things have happened between yesterday morning and this evening. There have been so many experiences and emotions within the past 36 hours...it can be a little overwhelming. I will split the 3 main events up in order to make for easier writing on my part and reading on your part :) The events are 1) Mathare, 2) MK Progressive Christmas Dinner, and 3) Naivasha Medical Clinic.
Day 7: Mathare, a Lesson in Compassion
Yesterday we had the great honor of visiting Pastor Vincent at his church located near Eastleigh and Mathare (one of the largest slums in Kenya). As we drove towards the church, I was once again reminded of Calcutta, India in regard to the level of poverty. There were many street vendors and manual laborers, the sewage ran open, and trash littered the roads. I felt safe enough with Ruthie's dad with us, but otherwise I would never have been in this area alone.
As we made our way across the street (dodging traffic and trying not to be run over by the matatus, or taxi vans), we met one of the volunteers at the church/school named Douglas. He was to accompany us later in the day and was a valuable person to have along for understanding the culture and language. Once we were inside, we were greeted by a thundering chant of "Welcome, welcome," yelled over and over by the 40 children inside the building. It almost made us feel like celebrities. The greeting continued for so long that I was nearly embarrassed :)
We met with Pastor Vincent who showed us around the building and the kitchen where the food for the lunch was being prepared. Their church has a feeding program once a day on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for the kids, and the meal consists of rice, beans, and small amounts of tomatoes/carrots/onions. For many of these children, this is the only food they will eat in the week. While the food was being prepared, we decided to take a walk into Eastleigh. This area is predominantly Muslim and one the church is trying to reach. There were many shops and Muslim schools.
As we walked, it was fun to hear all the kids greeting us. Sometimes the only English they know is "How are you?" And they all know that phrase....I think I heard it about 10 bajillion times over the course of the day. How are you? I am fine. How are you? How are you? I am fine, how are you? Haha! Also, as we walked, the kids would run up and grab our hands or follow behind us like a parade or game of follow the leader. It was quite adorable.
We toured some of the properties the church was looking at, considering buying to expand their ministry. After these viewings, we headed back to check on the food preparations. They weren't quite ready, but we got to play with the kids while we were waiting. They knew much English so it was easy to communicate with them. They also loved singing old-school church songs such as "Lord, I Lift Your Name on High" and "Here I am to Worship." I love how all kids in any culture love to be hugged and held. And, of course, every kids knows the power of communicating through smiles. The thing I got the most enjoyment out of though was their fascination with my hair; they wouldn't stop touching/pulling it. We definitely were a unique sight in Eastleigh and the church - I'm thinking not many white people had gone through that area.
After this brief visit with the kids, we headed back out into Mathare. I have been in poor areas in India, but nothing could prepare me for what I witnessed in Mathare. This was one of the worst examples of what a slum could be. As we walked, the awful odor of human waste, open sewage, butchered meat, and trash was pervasive. It took nearly everything in me not to gag. Fortunately Pastor Vincent and Douglas were with us or else we never would have ventured in. They knew some of the people there - parents of kids who attended their school.
The first lady we visited was named Mama Joseph. (Here all the women go by Mama and the name of their eldest child. I find it quite interesting since in other cultures, children are identified by their parents, not the other way around.) So we followed Mama Joseph down this tiny narrow alley strung with drying laundry and with open sewage running down the middle to her "home." Her home consisted of a tiny little room with barely room for a small bench, table, and bed. It was dark and crowded, especially with the 8 of us in there. She told us her story...and my heart broke. She had 4 children and her husband had died 4 years ago of HIV/AIDS. When she went back to his hometown (which they do to bury the dead), she was disowned and left with nothing but what she was wearing. She sought work in Nairobi, but no work was to be found. (This turned out to be the theme of the slums.) And then she tested positive for HIV/AIDS as well. Her rent only is 1000 shillings a month (about $12.50), but she can't afford it. The most common type of work women do is to wait at a street corner for the chance to wash laundry all day (12 hours) and be paid 100 shillings (just over $1.00). It's a truly unjust and heart-wrenching situation. We listened and prayed with Mama Joseph before continuing on. She has the joy of the Lord, but the life of a HIV/AIDS positive person in Africa is lonely and isolating due to uneducation, misunderstanding, and human cruelty. And, most of the time, it seems like a hopeless problem without a solution.
We made our way ever deeper into the slum, being called white person all the way by drunks and men who were high, stumbling into our path and harassing us. The Pastor asked me at one point if I was frightened yet, and I told him I wasn't because he and Ruthie's dad showed no fear. We saw the brewery where they made illegal alcohol, and then we stopped in to visit with Mama Hillary.
Mama Hillary had just as sad of a story as Mama Joseph. She had 3 children of her own and was also caring for 5 of her sister's children (since her sister had died). Her husband had died in a vehicle accident and his family had disowned her due to issues with the dowry - claiming they weren't married since the dowry hadn't completely been paid. She was left with nothing, rent she couldn't afford, and 8 kids to care for in the slum. It was so disheartening. I nearly cried several times seeing the pain and desperate plight these people were in. But although they had a hard life, they knew no differently - they had no hope of anything else, but they had hope in Jesus.
After the visit to the slum, we went back to the church and observed the feeding program. It was amazing to see how the kids had waited patiently all morning when they were probably starving. I was asked to say the prayer for the food, and after the "amen," they all started clapping like I'd given a speech. These tiny little bodies ate a huge portion and then went back for seconds. We weren't planning on eating their food, but as Kenyans do, they honored us far above what we felt we deserved and served us as well.
It was difficult to say goodbye, but other obligations awaited us, so we departed. I will forever look up to Pastor Vincent and the man he is. I know he can only do what he does by the grace and power of God - how else could one deal with so much suffering and injustice? It may seem hopeless, but we know that Jesus is the only one who can offer lasting and real hope for the world.
Although it will take some time to process, I know this visit was part of what I needed to see while here in Kenya. In order to meet people's needs, you must go where the hurting dwell. It's easy to say we love the poor and take care of the needy, but do we understand the extent of what we're called to do as Christians - followers of the one who created the men and women of the slums as well as those who sit in executive offices in developed countries? I know this experience has made a huge impact on my heart and challenged me in a deeper way than I could have even been without this encounter.
Day 7: Mathare, a Lesson in Compassion
Yesterday we had the great honor of visiting Pastor Vincent at his church located near Eastleigh and Mathare (one of the largest slums in Kenya). As we drove towards the church, I was once again reminded of Calcutta, India in regard to the level of poverty. There were many street vendors and manual laborers, the sewage ran open, and trash littered the roads. I felt safe enough with Ruthie's dad with us, but otherwise I would never have been in this area alone.
As we made our way across the street (dodging traffic and trying not to be run over by the matatus, or taxi vans), we met one of the volunteers at the church/school named Douglas. He was to accompany us later in the day and was a valuable person to have along for understanding the culture and language. Once we were inside, we were greeted by a thundering chant of "Welcome, welcome," yelled over and over by the 40 children inside the building. It almost made us feel like celebrities. The greeting continued for so long that I was nearly embarrassed :)
We met with Pastor Vincent who showed us around the building and the kitchen where the food for the lunch was being prepared. Their church has a feeding program once a day on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for the kids, and the meal consists of rice, beans, and small amounts of tomatoes/carrots/onions. For many of these children, this is the only food they will eat in the week. While the food was being prepared, we decided to take a walk into Eastleigh. This area is predominantly Muslim and one the church is trying to reach. There were many shops and Muslim schools.
As we walked, it was fun to hear all the kids greeting us. Sometimes the only English they know is "How are you?" And they all know that phrase....I think I heard it about 10 bajillion times over the course of the day. How are you? I am fine. How are you? How are you? I am fine, how are you? Haha! Also, as we walked, the kids would run up and grab our hands or follow behind us like a parade or game of follow the leader. It was quite adorable.
We toured some of the properties the church was looking at, considering buying to expand their ministry. After these viewings, we headed back to check on the food preparations. They weren't quite ready, but we got to play with the kids while we were waiting. They knew much English so it was easy to communicate with them. They also loved singing old-school church songs such as "Lord, I Lift Your Name on High" and "Here I am to Worship." I love how all kids in any culture love to be hugged and held. And, of course, every kids knows the power of communicating through smiles. The thing I got the most enjoyment out of though was their fascination with my hair; they wouldn't stop touching/pulling it. We definitely were a unique sight in Eastleigh and the church - I'm thinking not many white people had gone through that area.
After this brief visit with the kids, we headed back out into Mathare. I have been in poor areas in India, but nothing could prepare me for what I witnessed in Mathare. This was one of the worst examples of what a slum could be. As we walked, the awful odor of human waste, open sewage, butchered meat, and trash was pervasive. It took nearly everything in me not to gag. Fortunately Pastor Vincent and Douglas were with us or else we never would have ventured in. They knew some of the people there - parents of kids who attended their school.
The first lady we visited was named Mama Joseph. (Here all the women go by Mama and the name of their eldest child. I find it quite interesting since in other cultures, children are identified by their parents, not the other way around.) So we followed Mama Joseph down this tiny narrow alley strung with drying laundry and with open sewage running down the middle to her "home." Her home consisted of a tiny little room with barely room for a small bench, table, and bed. It was dark and crowded, especially with the 8 of us in there. She told us her story...and my heart broke. She had 4 children and her husband had died 4 years ago of HIV/AIDS. When she went back to his hometown (which they do to bury the dead), she was disowned and left with nothing but what she was wearing. She sought work in Nairobi, but no work was to be found. (This turned out to be the theme of the slums.) And then she tested positive for HIV/AIDS as well. Her rent only is 1000 shillings a month (about $12.50), but she can't afford it. The most common type of work women do is to wait at a street corner for the chance to wash laundry all day (12 hours) and be paid 100 shillings (just over $1.00). It's a truly unjust and heart-wrenching situation. We listened and prayed with Mama Joseph before continuing on. She has the joy of the Lord, but the life of a HIV/AIDS positive person in Africa is lonely and isolating due to uneducation, misunderstanding, and human cruelty. And, most of the time, it seems like a hopeless problem without a solution.
We made our way ever deeper into the slum, being called white person all the way by drunks and men who were high, stumbling into our path and harassing us. The Pastor asked me at one point if I was frightened yet, and I told him I wasn't because he and Ruthie's dad showed no fear. We saw the brewery where they made illegal alcohol, and then we stopped in to visit with Mama Hillary.
Mama Hillary had just as sad of a story as Mama Joseph. She had 3 children of her own and was also caring for 5 of her sister's children (since her sister had died). Her husband had died in a vehicle accident and his family had disowned her due to issues with the dowry - claiming they weren't married since the dowry hadn't completely been paid. She was left with nothing, rent she couldn't afford, and 8 kids to care for in the slum. It was so disheartening. I nearly cried several times seeing the pain and desperate plight these people were in. But although they had a hard life, they knew no differently - they had no hope of anything else, but they had hope in Jesus.
After the visit to the slum, we went back to the church and observed the feeding program. It was amazing to see how the kids had waited patiently all morning when they were probably starving. I was asked to say the prayer for the food, and after the "amen," they all started clapping like I'd given a speech. These tiny little bodies ate a huge portion and then went back for seconds. We weren't planning on eating their food, but as Kenyans do, they honored us far above what we felt we deserved and served us as well.
It was difficult to say goodbye, but other obligations awaited us, so we departed. I will forever look up to Pastor Vincent and the man he is. I know he can only do what he does by the grace and power of God - how else could one deal with so much suffering and injustice? It may seem hopeless, but we know that Jesus is the only one who can offer lasting and real hope for the world.
Although it will take some time to process, I know this visit was part of what I needed to see while here in Kenya. In order to meet people's needs, you must go where the hurting dwell. It's easy to say we love the poor and take care of the needy, but do we understand the extent of what we're called to do as Christians - followers of the one who created the men and women of the slums as well as those who sit in executive offices in developed countries? I know this experience has made a huge impact on my heart and challenged me in a deeper way than I could have even been without this encounter.
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