The post will introduce to the basic Swahili I learned while in Kenya. It was extremely important for me to learn a few terms so as not to completely give myself away as a foreigner :) The following were the ones I used the most.
1. Asante sana. Thank you very much. The word “sana” mean “very much” and is used with nearly every word you can imagine. I actually commented one day to Ruthie’s mom that everything was “sana” here…and she just laughed. Which I took as agreement. Haha!
2. The second word is practically married to the first – karibu. This word was actually the first one I learned. While still on the plane (Kenyan Airlines), I saw a magazine on the floor that said karibu. When I mentioned it to Ruthie, she said it meant “welcome.” And in Kenya, you are welcome everywhere. You walk up to someone’s house and it’s all “karibu, karibu.” You greet someone and it’s the same. You thank someone for welcoming you and they tell you you’re welcome. Haha! I love it.
3. One tradition I would love to carry over in the States and would work well in the dorms is using the word “hodi.” Basically how this one works is you approach a house, usually with the door open but the screen closed, and loudly call out “hodi!” It mainly means, “Hey, I’m here. Is it ok if I come in?” The correct and typical response is “karibu.” I definitely picked up on this greeting quickly. I could totally see walking up to a dorm room, cracking the door and yelling hodi, and hearing someone respond with karibu.
4. Habari? Mzuri (sounds almost like Missouri). It’s the equivalent to our, “How are you?” “Fine.” I heard this phrase over and over. It was nearly as common as the English “How are you?” I was constantly being asked by everyone, including kids who wouldn’t know what my response would mean if I even did respond. (P.S. Check my f/b page soon for a video demonstrating the ever present “How are you?” and the intonation the kids used when they asked this question.)
5. Another term I quickly learned was baridi sana. Very cold. Because of the refrigeration capabilities or lack thereof, the sodas are usually served warm. Ice is a luxury. So, the common situation was a glass bottle of soda served warm. At the Windsor, Ruthie ordered both of our drinks baridi sana. I, of course, knew what sana meant – they use it ALL the time. But I didn’t know baridi. She told me that it meant cold, and she also told me you had to specifically request it this way or they would serve it warm. Good to know for my Western tastes!
6. Jambo. Just a cheater’s way of saying, “Hello. I’m trying out my Swahili, but please don’t actually speak to me in Swahili or I won’t know what you’re saying.” The response is the same. “Jambo.” “Jambo.”
7. Bwana. Our equivalent of sir. It’s a term of respect and used often. It can also be used in reference to God such as in Bwana asifiwe, which means “the Lord be praised.”
8. Likewise, the term of respect for women is dada. This word means “sister.” At the clinic we worked, it was common for them to call the next person in line by dada or bwana. I love the sounds of these words.
9. Another relational term is baba, which means “dad” or “father.” I love how it’s so similar to abba but not quite the same. I could see myself using this term with my kids and their daddy one day :)
10. Ndio and hapana. Yes and No. The only way I could remember the difference is that the one that started with “n” in Swahili (ndio) was not the one that started with “n” in English (no). Haha!
So, there you have it. The top Swahili words any tourist should know. It made me feel just a little more like a native once I knew some of the common phrases they used :)
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Uniquely Kenyan Traits
Everywhere you go in Nairobi you can find people who are fluent in English. It’s like a mini-western world. Compared to India, I felt completely at home. There were no hostile glances; I was not considered the intruding, white Christian foreigner. In fact, in many ways I felt like I belonged to this culture of friendly people who dressed in jeans and t-shirts, spoke English, and failed to adhere to eastern religious or cultural customs. However, in many ways, I was definitely the outsider. I couldn’t relate to the way they lived, the way they did business, the way they bartered, the way they cooked, the way they greeted.
In this post, I would like to share some of the uniquely Kenyan cultural traits I observed. Although I’m sure these traits are shared by other people groups and countries, they are not practiced in America and therefore were completely new to me.
For example, how people greet. In the States it’s with a handshake or hug, in India it’s with a slight bow, in Africa it’s different. Women greeting men usually shake hands. Women greeting women grab the hand as if about to shake, then are pulled in a pseudo embrace pressing their cheeks together on one side of the face, pulling away, and repeating on the other side of the face. It was so meaningful and loving. I felt more accepted by some of the people there I had barely met then I do with some people I’ve known for years. But, in the same way, I would probably be completely uncomfortable greeting people in the States that way.
When meeting people while they are eating, they may only offer you their wrist. The first time this happened I didn’t know what to do, so I tried to grab the man’s hand and shake it. Later on, Ruthie explained they offer the wrist when their hand is dirty. Usually you just grab the wrist and shake it as if it were the hand. I however had not been told this beforehand, so I just exhibited my Western ignorance. Hopefully, he was gracious enough to overlook it…
Like India, the left hand is offensive and unclean in Kenyan culture. If you have to use your left hand to shake someone else’s due to distance, positioning, etc., it is imperative that you apologize beforehand for using the left hand. You ask for forgiveness, letting them know the offense was unavoidable and not intentional. Feet didn’t seem to be as offensive to the Kenyans as they were in India, but I can’t be positive they actually weren’t.
Kenyans are fairly conservative in how they dress (minus their bright colors). Woman are usually in skirts/dresses and men will dress up daily. It’s not uncommon to see people in several layers of clothing. This surprised me in the heat – some people would be wearing three layers or sweaters, long-sleeve dresses, suit jackets. At first I thought it might be because that was all the clothing they owned so they wore it. But then I asked, and it appears that part of the reason could be due to the cool mornings and evenings and needing protection from the sun. It was humorous at times – when it got to be about 60 degrees in the evening, the night guards would be bundled up in coats and scarves. Julia even mentioned that in Sudan the kids come to class bundled up in parkas and snow suits when it’s cool (75 degrees).
Kenyans walk everywhere. You will always see people walking. Most Kenyans don’t have vehicles. And then there are some who have unique vehicles – donkeys and carts, motorbikes, matatus, suvs. I’m a fan of the walking part…pretty sure it keeps them all slender and healthy. There are road venders everywhere too. And they sell everything from newspapers and flowers to roasted corn and pirated dvds. They walk back and forth through the cars during the traffic jams that are so common or stand on the street corners selling their wares.
House helpers. Usually there is one man or woman in the home employed by the owners to help with household chores. These include washing dishes, grocery shopping, preparing meals, laundry, cleaning, sewing, and if there are children, nannying the kids. I was talking with one MK who has grown up in Africa her entire life and she was telling me about her sho-sho. I’m not sure what the proper definition of the term is, but it seems close to the house helper. Her sho-sho did the dishes, taught her Swahili, and taught her how to cook traditional African foods. These house helpers have a huge impact on the families they work for and, to an extent, become part of the family. Now, please don’t think of a house helper as a maid. Although that may be the closest equivalent we have to them in the States, they are not the same. House helpers are highly respected people. It is not considered demeaning to have them do your work for you, because in this culture it’s providing people with a much-needed income and purpose. Everyone has a house helper in Kenya.
When we were headed to Ruthie’s house for the first time after arriving at the airport, she asked if I knew about Victor. I didn’t, and she proceeded to tell me he was their house help. She mentioned that she doesn’t talk much about it in the States because people don’t understand. Since I had been to India where I was chastised for even rinsing my dishes there, I totally understood what a house help was. Just another Kenyan trait for those of you who didn’t know though…
There are so many other things I could mention, but this post is long enough already :) I still want to do a post on the few Swahili words I learned and one on transportation, but those will be separate. Haha! If you’ve made it to the end of these posts, I salute you. I know they are long, but I want to preserve the memories I have while I still have them! I don’t blame you if you chose to skim or not finish all of them. That’s your privilege…but you’re missing out if you do so ;)
In this post, I would like to share some of the uniquely Kenyan cultural traits I observed. Although I’m sure these traits are shared by other people groups and countries, they are not practiced in America and therefore were completely new to me.
For example, how people greet. In the States it’s with a handshake or hug, in India it’s with a slight bow, in Africa it’s different. Women greeting men usually shake hands. Women greeting women grab the hand as if about to shake, then are pulled in a pseudo embrace pressing their cheeks together on one side of the face, pulling away, and repeating on the other side of the face. It was so meaningful and loving. I felt more accepted by some of the people there I had barely met then I do with some people I’ve known for years. But, in the same way, I would probably be completely uncomfortable greeting people in the States that way.
When meeting people while they are eating, they may only offer you their wrist. The first time this happened I didn’t know what to do, so I tried to grab the man’s hand and shake it. Later on, Ruthie explained they offer the wrist when their hand is dirty. Usually you just grab the wrist and shake it as if it were the hand. I however had not been told this beforehand, so I just exhibited my Western ignorance. Hopefully, he was gracious enough to overlook it…
Like India, the left hand is offensive and unclean in Kenyan culture. If you have to use your left hand to shake someone else’s due to distance, positioning, etc., it is imperative that you apologize beforehand for using the left hand. You ask for forgiveness, letting them know the offense was unavoidable and not intentional. Feet didn’t seem to be as offensive to the Kenyans as they were in India, but I can’t be positive they actually weren’t.
Kenyans are fairly conservative in how they dress (minus their bright colors). Woman are usually in skirts/dresses and men will dress up daily. It’s not uncommon to see people in several layers of clothing. This surprised me in the heat – some people would be wearing three layers or sweaters, long-sleeve dresses, suit jackets. At first I thought it might be because that was all the clothing they owned so they wore it. But then I asked, and it appears that part of the reason could be due to the cool mornings and evenings and needing protection from the sun. It was humorous at times – when it got to be about 60 degrees in the evening, the night guards would be bundled up in coats and scarves. Julia even mentioned that in Sudan the kids come to class bundled up in parkas and snow suits when it’s cool (75 degrees).
Kenyans walk everywhere. You will always see people walking. Most Kenyans don’t have vehicles. And then there are some who have unique vehicles – donkeys and carts, motorbikes, matatus, suvs. I’m a fan of the walking part…pretty sure it keeps them all slender and healthy. There are road venders everywhere too. And they sell everything from newspapers and flowers to roasted corn and pirated dvds. They walk back and forth through the cars during the traffic jams that are so common or stand on the street corners selling their wares.
House helpers. Usually there is one man or woman in the home employed by the owners to help with household chores. These include washing dishes, grocery shopping, preparing meals, laundry, cleaning, sewing, and if there are children, nannying the kids. I was talking with one MK who has grown up in Africa her entire life and she was telling me about her sho-sho. I’m not sure what the proper definition of the term is, but it seems close to the house helper. Her sho-sho did the dishes, taught her Swahili, and taught her how to cook traditional African foods. These house helpers have a huge impact on the families they work for and, to an extent, become part of the family. Now, please don’t think of a house helper as a maid. Although that may be the closest equivalent we have to them in the States, they are not the same. House helpers are highly respected people. It is not considered demeaning to have them do your work for you, because in this culture it’s providing people with a much-needed income and purpose. Everyone has a house helper in Kenya.
When we were headed to Ruthie’s house for the first time after arriving at the airport, she asked if I knew about Victor. I didn’t, and she proceeded to tell me he was their house help. She mentioned that she doesn’t talk much about it in the States because people don’t understand. Since I had been to India where I was chastised for even rinsing my dishes there, I totally understood what a house help was. Just another Kenyan trait for those of you who didn’t know though…
There are so many other things I could mention, but this post is long enough already :) I still want to do a post on the few Swahili words I learned and one on transportation, but those will be separate. Haha! If you’ve made it to the end of these posts, I salute you. I know they are long, but I want to preserve the memories I have while I still have them! I don’t blame you if you chose to skim or not finish all of them. That’s your privilege…but you’re missing out if you do so ;)
Brackenhurst Diversion: Limuru Group Home and Medical Clinic
The final day of Brackenhurst we weren’t required to provide childcare in the afternoon. Therefore, I had some free time to go up and visit a group home in Limuru. Mama Ruthie went with me, driving us out there to visit. We got lost on the way because she was taking a route that was shorter, but not known to her. Haha! Just goes to show how you can get lost so easily in Africa because there are no markings, street signs, etc. We ended up going around the long way that she knew and got there without a problem.
Pastor Simon is an incredible man. His church is part of the K.A.G. and they provide a holistic type of care for the people. Not only was there a church (spiritual), but there was a school (mental), a garden and clinic (physical). The property had a group home, which I didn’t know about before visiting, but have since learned that it is somewhat like an orphanage only more nurturing. Group homes are limited in number, they have a dining area, kitchen, bathrooms, sleeping rooms, and a “mama” who is like their actual mom, taking care of them and cleaning, cooking, loving.
They had a small garden where they grew food to sustain themselves. Most of what they grew was cabbage, greens, tomatoes, onions, potatoes. In addition to the garden, they had several cows that provided milk. There greenhouse was growing tomatoes for them to sell and make a profit.
We toured the school and learned about some of the differences between our two continents in the school systems. Their school year begins with the calendar year while ours starts in August. They have a primary school, which most kids are able to attend. However, depending on a point system and their exam scores, they may or may not attend secondary school. Primary school composes grades 1-8 (they don’t say first grade, but rather grade 1; they also call the grades in high school form 1-4). If the kids do not receive a high enough exam score, they are not recommended to or allowed to attend a secondary school. This essentially subjects them to a life of idleness. They do not become citizens capable of voting, owning property, or driving until 18, so they become involved with gangs or drinking. The pastor at this group home is highly proactive in making the students keep good grades so this does not happen to his kids.
After we toured the group home, the garden and greenhouse, and the school, we stopped by the clinic. The whole visit was originally set up so that I could observe the medical services they provided since this is what I’m interested in and why Lifeworks provided funding. The building used as the clinic was tiny with two small rooms connected by a closet-like room with shelves. The first room was the examining room and we happened to be there when a patient was. The “doctor” was a woman as was the lab tech. I’m not sure why, but this surprised me. I’m not sure the woman was actually a doctor…perhaps a nurse or nurse practitioner. It’s difficult to know if some of the terminology we use to communicate with each other have the same definitions. The closet contained the pharmaceuticals, and adjoining it was the lab (or rather the “rab” since they can’t pronounce the letter “L”. Haha!) From the signs in the lab, it appears they are able to run many basic tests such as urinalysis, blood work, sugar levels, and such.
The clinic only charges a small fee (equivalent to $0.25) for the visit although the patient must pay for the meds. However, the med costs are the cheapest around, and the clinic has received a good reputation for care. People from far away come to receive services and are healed.
While visiting this facility, my heart ached. There is something about the yearning to use your knowledge to help others. The other pastors kept suggesting that I would come back and help with their kids, clinic, and school. I was overwhelmed with the desire to be used overseas in a medical capacity. It can be frustrating here in the States going through so much school to receive the education necessary to help diagnose and treat people. I feel like I’m in a web of time-sucking steps. But, I also know we need properly-trained providers. Still it’s frustrating.
Although I’m not sure what path my life will take, I’m starting to see the possibilities. I don’t have to be restricted or limited to one hospital, one city, one school. God knows no boundaries. If it’s his will for me to work overseas at some point, he’s going to open the doors. He wouldn’t put that longing so deeply in my spirit if he wasn’t going to use in some way to bring him glory. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.
(P.S. There will be pictures posted to f/b soon of the group home and clinic, so look for those!)
Pastor Simon is an incredible man. His church is part of the K.A.G. and they provide a holistic type of care for the people. Not only was there a church (spiritual), but there was a school (mental), a garden and clinic (physical). The property had a group home, which I didn’t know about before visiting, but have since learned that it is somewhat like an orphanage only more nurturing. Group homes are limited in number, they have a dining area, kitchen, bathrooms, sleeping rooms, and a “mama” who is like their actual mom, taking care of them and cleaning, cooking, loving.
They had a small garden where they grew food to sustain themselves. Most of what they grew was cabbage, greens, tomatoes, onions, potatoes. In addition to the garden, they had several cows that provided milk. There greenhouse was growing tomatoes for them to sell and make a profit.
We toured the school and learned about some of the differences between our two continents in the school systems. Their school year begins with the calendar year while ours starts in August. They have a primary school, which most kids are able to attend. However, depending on a point system and their exam scores, they may or may not attend secondary school. Primary school composes grades 1-8 (they don’t say first grade, but rather grade 1; they also call the grades in high school form 1-4). If the kids do not receive a high enough exam score, they are not recommended to or allowed to attend a secondary school. This essentially subjects them to a life of idleness. They do not become citizens capable of voting, owning property, or driving until 18, so they become involved with gangs or drinking. The pastor at this group home is highly proactive in making the students keep good grades so this does not happen to his kids.
After we toured the group home, the garden and greenhouse, and the school, we stopped by the clinic. The whole visit was originally set up so that I could observe the medical services they provided since this is what I’m interested in and why Lifeworks provided funding. The building used as the clinic was tiny with two small rooms connected by a closet-like room with shelves. The first room was the examining room and we happened to be there when a patient was. The “doctor” was a woman as was the lab tech. I’m not sure why, but this surprised me. I’m not sure the woman was actually a doctor…perhaps a nurse or nurse practitioner. It’s difficult to know if some of the terminology we use to communicate with each other have the same definitions. The closet contained the pharmaceuticals, and adjoining it was the lab (or rather the “rab” since they can’t pronounce the letter “L”. Haha!) From the signs in the lab, it appears they are able to run many basic tests such as urinalysis, blood work, sugar levels, and such.
The clinic only charges a small fee (equivalent to $0.25) for the visit although the patient must pay for the meds. However, the med costs are the cheapest around, and the clinic has received a good reputation for care. People from far away come to receive services and are healed.
While visiting this facility, my heart ached. There is something about the yearning to use your knowledge to help others. The other pastors kept suggesting that I would come back and help with their kids, clinic, and school. I was overwhelmed with the desire to be used overseas in a medical capacity. It can be frustrating here in the States going through so much school to receive the education necessary to help diagnose and treat people. I feel like I’m in a web of time-sucking steps. But, I also know we need properly-trained providers. Still it’s frustrating.
Although I’m not sure what path my life will take, I’m starting to see the possibilities. I don’t have to be restricted or limited to one hospital, one city, one school. God knows no boundaries. If it’s his will for me to work overseas at some point, he’s going to open the doors. He wouldn’t put that longing so deeply in my spirit if he wasn’t going to use in some way to bring him glory. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.
(P.S. There will be pictures posted to f/b soon of the group home and clinic, so look for those!)
Brackenhurst: Part 2 - With a name like Pass-Pass, it has to be fun!
The week at Brackenhurst was not an official conference for the AG M’s. They are only allowed to have one every two years where everyone is obligated to come. This year’s conference was an off-year, but the director strongly felt urged to convene the M’s to have them participate in three days of security training and as well as a time of re-evaluating their mission statement and purpose by individual and corporate fields.
Because the security training involved simulating kidnapping and hostage situations, we had to have the kids out of earshot some of the sessions. Therefore, down to the playground we went. This was just one of the many activities we used to keep the kids entertained. And that leads me to the second part of the Brackenhurst blog.
2. Activities. Stuff. Events. You know, the things that keep us entertained.
The playground is certainly one of the things that fits nicely in this category. I’m pretty sure every day at some point, we rounded up the kiddos, slathered them in either sunscreen or princess lotion according to preference, and shuffled down to the pit where the swings, slide, teeter totters, and dirt/sand piles were located. The elementary kids loved playing with our toddlers, and the staff of both groups couldn’t have asked for a better arrangement :) Ruthie and I worked on exposing our pathetically blinding-white selves to the burning sun during this time. And we accomplished our goal by the end of the week…wait for it…yep, sandal tanned feet! Haha. Actually, we are quite a nice shade of tan. Although Ruthie burned and started peeling to the point of resembling either a mild case of leprosy or a bad case of dandruff, we were pleased with our efforts.
I couldn’t forget to mention tea time. Although I’m sure I’ve mentioned it briefly in a previous post somewhere, it is important enough to do so again. At Brackenhurst, time had no meaning except when it came to tea. You could set your watch by it if you wanted to. Every day at 10 in the morning and 4 in the afternoon, we would break for tea, coffee, biscuits (cookies) and sometimes juice. In our toddler case, we had juice time and cake. Or cinnamon rolls. Or banana bread. Or the best doughnuts in the universe. Or whatever they decided to bring us for the day. It was hilarious watching the kids try to eat their snacks. Most of the snack ended up in one of three places: 1) the table, 2) the floor, or 3) their face. Rarely did the snack make it in the mouth :) Totally adorable. With all the tea times, though, I’m fairly certain I could have floated away form drinking so much that week. Or been wired for a year with all the caffeine we consumed. Haha!
Not only was there tea time, but many of the adults went walking in the tea fields for exercise every day. The last day Ruthie and I thought we would explore the paths ourselves, so we headed out with Brooke (a music teacher in Sudan with Julia) and made the journey up the dusty roads to the top. The view was spectacular. The smell of tea bushes and the fields is so distinct as well – it will forever be engrained in my mind’s memory.
The evenings did not have a structured service schedule as usual. Monday night we had a brief time of childcare during security training, but then had the rest of the evening to ourselves. Tuesday night we attended a presentation revealing the new East Africa initiative called Live Dead. It focused on recruiting and sending out teams to the unreached people groups of East Africa, and the lady in the states who is working on the ads and design was there to discuss them. Wednesday night was free, Thursday I had to work childcare again, and Friday I was able to attend the last service where Papa Lowenberg spoke. The high school seniors were honored, the individual fields read their re-worked mission statements, and we had a time of worship and prayer.
When we weren’t otherwise engaged in the evenings, we spent a huge amount of time playing Phase 10 and Dutch Blitz. Our usual group consisted of me, Ruthie, Priscilla, Josiah, Reed, and Jordan. Occasional other players included Nicole, Caleb, Josh, and Gus. We would end up at Uncle Mike’s trying to a claim a large enough table for our intent, order cokes in the glass bottles and possibly mozzarella sticks or sloppy nachos, and settle in for several hours of fun with each other. I felt like I was back at youth camp again, except I never went to youth camp, so even better. Maybe it’s closer to being on tour with my college friends in choir. Either way, we had a most wonderful time, and it was one of my favorite times of the week.
During the week, Ruthie and I were also asked to lead a song for worship after morning tea time. She, Julia, and I practiced one night and it turned into a much-needed, impromptu time of worshiping. If there’s one thing I know in life, it’s that I was made to worship through music and singing. There’s nothing quite like worshiping the Savior with the gifts he gave you.
So there are the main activities that took place throughout the week. Then there were the late night chats with Julia, laying in the grass reading and making up silly poems while listening to Justin Bieber, watching the boys play soccer in the dark, playing pass-pass* barefoot, the slip-n-slide for the kids, fighting off safari ants, lunch conversations, and meeting new people. On Friday I also visited a group home and clinic that I will write about in my next blog. But now you know how we spent some of our time at Bracken. Sorry it’s so long of a description…
And for those of you unfortunate enough to be ignorant of what pass-pass is, let me provide a definition to clarify ;)
*Pass-pass: a game we invented that involved passing the Frisbee from one person to another. If anyone dropped the Frisbee, Priscilla was required to run around the orange cones spread out across the lawn (her idea, which made it even better). Eventually we modified the rules so that whoever dropped the Frisbee had to do 5 jumping jacks (to save on time) before they could pass it off again. Haha! So much fun.
Because the security training involved simulating kidnapping and hostage situations, we had to have the kids out of earshot some of the sessions. Therefore, down to the playground we went. This was just one of the many activities we used to keep the kids entertained. And that leads me to the second part of the Brackenhurst blog.
2. Activities. Stuff. Events. You know, the things that keep us entertained.
The playground is certainly one of the things that fits nicely in this category. I’m pretty sure every day at some point, we rounded up the kiddos, slathered them in either sunscreen or princess lotion according to preference, and shuffled down to the pit where the swings, slide, teeter totters, and dirt/sand piles were located. The elementary kids loved playing with our toddlers, and the staff of both groups couldn’t have asked for a better arrangement :) Ruthie and I worked on exposing our pathetically blinding-white selves to the burning sun during this time. And we accomplished our goal by the end of the week…wait for it…yep, sandal tanned feet! Haha. Actually, we are quite a nice shade of tan. Although Ruthie burned and started peeling to the point of resembling either a mild case of leprosy or a bad case of dandruff, we were pleased with our efforts.
I couldn’t forget to mention tea time. Although I’m sure I’ve mentioned it briefly in a previous post somewhere, it is important enough to do so again. At Brackenhurst, time had no meaning except when it came to tea. You could set your watch by it if you wanted to. Every day at 10 in the morning and 4 in the afternoon, we would break for tea, coffee, biscuits (cookies) and sometimes juice. In our toddler case, we had juice time and cake. Or cinnamon rolls. Or banana bread. Or the best doughnuts in the universe. Or whatever they decided to bring us for the day. It was hilarious watching the kids try to eat their snacks. Most of the snack ended up in one of three places: 1) the table, 2) the floor, or 3) their face. Rarely did the snack make it in the mouth :) Totally adorable. With all the tea times, though, I’m fairly certain I could have floated away form drinking so much that week. Or been wired for a year with all the caffeine we consumed. Haha!
Not only was there tea time, but many of the adults went walking in the tea fields for exercise every day. The last day Ruthie and I thought we would explore the paths ourselves, so we headed out with Brooke (a music teacher in Sudan with Julia) and made the journey up the dusty roads to the top. The view was spectacular. The smell of tea bushes and the fields is so distinct as well – it will forever be engrained in my mind’s memory.
The evenings did not have a structured service schedule as usual. Monday night we had a brief time of childcare during security training, but then had the rest of the evening to ourselves. Tuesday night we attended a presentation revealing the new East Africa initiative called Live Dead. It focused on recruiting and sending out teams to the unreached people groups of East Africa, and the lady in the states who is working on the ads and design was there to discuss them. Wednesday night was free, Thursday I had to work childcare again, and Friday I was able to attend the last service where Papa Lowenberg spoke. The high school seniors were honored, the individual fields read their re-worked mission statements, and we had a time of worship and prayer.
When we weren’t otherwise engaged in the evenings, we spent a huge amount of time playing Phase 10 and Dutch Blitz. Our usual group consisted of me, Ruthie, Priscilla, Josiah, Reed, and Jordan. Occasional other players included Nicole, Caleb, Josh, and Gus. We would end up at Uncle Mike’s trying to a claim a large enough table for our intent, order cokes in the glass bottles and possibly mozzarella sticks or sloppy nachos, and settle in for several hours of fun with each other. I felt like I was back at youth camp again, except I never went to youth camp, so even better. Maybe it’s closer to being on tour with my college friends in choir. Either way, we had a most wonderful time, and it was one of my favorite times of the week.
During the week, Ruthie and I were also asked to lead a song for worship after morning tea time. She, Julia, and I practiced one night and it turned into a much-needed, impromptu time of worshiping. If there’s one thing I know in life, it’s that I was made to worship through music and singing. There’s nothing quite like worshiping the Savior with the gifts he gave you.
So there are the main activities that took place throughout the week. Then there were the late night chats with Julia, laying in the grass reading and making up silly poems while listening to Justin Bieber, watching the boys play soccer in the dark, playing pass-pass* barefoot, the slip-n-slide for the kids, fighting off safari ants, lunch conversations, and meeting new people. On Friday I also visited a group home and clinic that I will write about in my next blog. But now you know how we spent some of our time at Bracken. Sorry it’s so long of a description…
And for those of you unfortunate enough to be ignorant of what pass-pass is, let me provide a definition to clarify ;)
*Pass-pass: a game we invented that involved passing the Frisbee from one person to another. If anyone dropped the Frisbee, Priscilla was required to run around the orange cones spread out across the lawn (her idea, which made it even better). Eventually we modified the rules so that whoever dropped the Frisbee had to do 5 jumping jacks (to save on time) before they could pass it off again. Haha! So much fun.
A Look Back at Week 3: Brackenhurst
Where to begin? The last week we were in Africa, Ruthie and I worked the kid’s program at Brackenhurst. The closest equivalent we have in the states to what Brackenhurst is would be a church retreat campground. The grounds are beautiful and the cabins are all unique.
We arrived Sunday afternoon early to eat lunch and attend a workers’ meeting. The meeting ended up being a time to divide the kids by age group (on paper) and then move all the trunks and equipment to entertain the kiddos into their proper places.
Around 4 pm, we had our first encounter with the kids we would be working with all week. The infant/toddler group ended up being 8-9 in size. There was a variety of ages from 1-4 years. One helpful aspect of the week was that the High School Juniors and Seniors were rotated throughout the sessions to help me and the other college worker.
Although it might seem inconvenient to give up one whole week of our break to help watch kids, it was one of the best experiences I could have ever had. I met so many new friends, became close to the high schooler workers, and was embraced by the family comprised of the M’s.
Because it has been nearly 2 weeks since the week at Brackenhurst started, I will only provide a summary of everything that occurred while there. (The next several blog entries will be separated by topic.)
1. Kids. Let me introduce you to our little bunch.
The youngest was Riley and his sister was Alana (2 years). Riley was the happiest little boy I’ve ever been around. The only time he cried the entire week was the morning after he hadn’t slept much and when a trunk lid closed on his hand. However, the second time, it wasn’t really even a cry; more like a whimper. Alana was miss little independent. She had a mind of her own and could turn from glaring with an angry face to smiles and giggles in 0.247 seconds. Although she was 2 years, she still couldn’t communicate well with words, so we constantly were guessing what she wanted, didn’t like, etc. Her most obvious trait was the need to climb. When at the playground, she would just book it up the hills and the next thing we knew she was three levels up near the cabins perfectly happy with herself for her accomplishment.
Then we had Madeline (3 years) and Charlie (2 years) with the occasional visit by little sister Millie (3 months). Madeline was a cheerful girl who could completely entertain herself. She played well with or without other kids around. She loved playing in the sand/dirt and with the balloons. She was constantly tromping around with her bucket and shovel :) Her brother, on the other hand, was a little more difficult. He had separation problems, so at least one parent was always nearby. He was a sweet guy, just quite needy. One of our high school workers, Reed, became his buddy. If Charlie ever needed some attention, Reed was there to give it. He loved the lap harp (which he called a ‘tar trying to say guitar, so cute). And Millie, well, she just smiled and cooed and slept :)
The two princesses were Sienna and Tia, both 3 years. They were cute little curly blond-headed girls who always wore pink and loved playing princess and castle. Miss Criscilla (Priscilla, but they couldn’t say her name) really took to them. They would make tiaras and play princesses. It was quite fun to watch. Whenever we went outside, we made the kids wear sunscreen ‘cause of the high altitude and being near the equator they burned easily. However, none of them liked it…I have never before realized how much little kids hate sunscreen. It was a huge chore to get them to wear it. Anyways, so Priscilla came up with this idea to call the sunscreen “princess lotion,” selling the girls on the idea that they could shimmer in the sun like royalty (um…bring to mind any Twilight images?). It only kind of worked, but it made for an on-going lifelong joke between Priscilla and me.
Daphne. If you knew her, that name alone would be explanation enough. But since you don’t, let me enlighten you. Daphne was 2 years old, but she could communicate with words quite well. Every day we would wait to see if Daphne showed up…she was the difference between and easy day and a hard one. Our most difficult kid, she would cry for mommy and daddy off and on all day. She didn’t play well with others although she was decent with playing by herself. The routine went something like this: 1) Daphne happy until [fill in the blank]. 2) Cries. 3) Pick Daphne up. 4) Try to distract Daphne with baby doll. 5) Daphne throws whatever you hand her including cookies (she threw them so hard it shattered into pieces when it hit the floor). 5) She would scream for “mommy!” and “juice.” 6.) She would eventually become distracted. 7.) Stop crying. 8.) Repeat throughout day about 12 times. Really, though, she was a dear little girl too. Just needed some extra TLC and patience on our part.
And last, but not least, Josiah and Benjamin. These two were truly our boys – in every sense of the word. They loved beating up on the guy workers, although they didn’t really take to the girls at all. Because they were 4 years old, they were pretty tough and had an awesome time getting tackled for hours on end in the bounce-house boxing ring (our poor guy workers were exhausted by the end of the days). They also made forts and shot missiles and played soccer and ate twice as much as the other kids at tea time :) One funny story with them was that one day when they were playing fort the girls wanted to join. But the boys wouldn’t let them be captains with them. They said the girls could only play if they were cats. So, the girls played cats in the fort. Haha! One of the high school workers (Caleb) commented that he wished he could know what was going on in their heads. Since when are cats the next most logical thing to become after captains?
So there you have it; these were the kids we worked with. Our team of workers was amazing as well. We had M families from all over East Africa – Kenya, Sudan, Rwanda, Uganda, Tanzania, Madagascar. Some of the kids spoke Swahili, some spoke French, some spoke English, some didn’t speak at all yet :) They all are growing up experiencing more of the world than most others. They endure sweltering deserts, strange customs, violent religious intolerance, and they all carry the heartache to reach the people they’re sharing life with for Jesus.
I can’t express the amount of respect I have gained for our mission overseas. These men and women sent by the AG have sacrificed convenience and ease, placed their families in extremely difficult and sometimes dangerous situations, and are making an eternal difference. And I am proud and honored to have observed and shared a small part of their lives during the week at Brackenhurst and to be able to call them all friend.
We arrived Sunday afternoon early to eat lunch and attend a workers’ meeting. The meeting ended up being a time to divide the kids by age group (on paper) and then move all the trunks and equipment to entertain the kiddos into their proper places.
Around 4 pm, we had our first encounter with the kids we would be working with all week. The infant/toddler group ended up being 8-9 in size. There was a variety of ages from 1-4 years. One helpful aspect of the week was that the High School Juniors and Seniors were rotated throughout the sessions to help me and the other college worker.
Although it might seem inconvenient to give up one whole week of our break to help watch kids, it was one of the best experiences I could have ever had. I met so many new friends, became close to the high schooler workers, and was embraced by the family comprised of the M’s.
Because it has been nearly 2 weeks since the week at Brackenhurst started, I will only provide a summary of everything that occurred while there. (The next several blog entries will be separated by topic.)
1. Kids. Let me introduce you to our little bunch.
The youngest was Riley and his sister was Alana (2 years). Riley was the happiest little boy I’ve ever been around. The only time he cried the entire week was the morning after he hadn’t slept much and when a trunk lid closed on his hand. However, the second time, it wasn’t really even a cry; more like a whimper. Alana was miss little independent. She had a mind of her own and could turn from glaring with an angry face to smiles and giggles in 0.247 seconds. Although she was 2 years, she still couldn’t communicate well with words, so we constantly were guessing what she wanted, didn’t like, etc. Her most obvious trait was the need to climb. When at the playground, she would just book it up the hills and the next thing we knew she was three levels up near the cabins perfectly happy with herself for her accomplishment.
Then we had Madeline (3 years) and Charlie (2 years) with the occasional visit by little sister Millie (3 months). Madeline was a cheerful girl who could completely entertain herself. She played well with or without other kids around. She loved playing in the sand/dirt and with the balloons. She was constantly tromping around with her bucket and shovel :) Her brother, on the other hand, was a little more difficult. He had separation problems, so at least one parent was always nearby. He was a sweet guy, just quite needy. One of our high school workers, Reed, became his buddy. If Charlie ever needed some attention, Reed was there to give it. He loved the lap harp (which he called a ‘tar trying to say guitar, so cute). And Millie, well, she just smiled and cooed and slept :)
The two princesses were Sienna and Tia, both 3 years. They were cute little curly blond-headed girls who always wore pink and loved playing princess and castle. Miss Criscilla (Priscilla, but they couldn’t say her name) really took to them. They would make tiaras and play princesses. It was quite fun to watch. Whenever we went outside, we made the kids wear sunscreen ‘cause of the high altitude and being near the equator they burned easily. However, none of them liked it…I have never before realized how much little kids hate sunscreen. It was a huge chore to get them to wear it. Anyways, so Priscilla came up with this idea to call the sunscreen “princess lotion,” selling the girls on the idea that they could shimmer in the sun like royalty (um…bring to mind any Twilight images?). It only kind of worked, but it made for an on-going lifelong joke between Priscilla and me.
Daphne. If you knew her, that name alone would be explanation enough. But since you don’t, let me enlighten you. Daphne was 2 years old, but she could communicate with words quite well. Every day we would wait to see if Daphne showed up…she was the difference between and easy day and a hard one. Our most difficult kid, she would cry for mommy and daddy off and on all day. She didn’t play well with others although she was decent with playing by herself. The routine went something like this: 1) Daphne happy until [fill in the blank]. 2) Cries. 3) Pick Daphne up. 4) Try to distract Daphne with baby doll. 5) Daphne throws whatever you hand her including cookies (she threw them so hard it shattered into pieces when it hit the floor). 5) She would scream for “mommy!” and “juice.” 6.) She would eventually become distracted. 7.) Stop crying. 8.) Repeat throughout day about 12 times. Really, though, she was a dear little girl too. Just needed some extra TLC and patience on our part.
And last, but not least, Josiah and Benjamin. These two were truly our boys – in every sense of the word. They loved beating up on the guy workers, although they didn’t really take to the girls at all. Because they were 4 years old, they were pretty tough and had an awesome time getting tackled for hours on end in the bounce-house boxing ring (our poor guy workers were exhausted by the end of the days). They also made forts and shot missiles and played soccer and ate twice as much as the other kids at tea time :) One funny story with them was that one day when they were playing fort the girls wanted to join. But the boys wouldn’t let them be captains with them. They said the girls could only play if they were cats. So, the girls played cats in the fort. Haha! One of the high school workers (Caleb) commented that he wished he could know what was going on in their heads. Since when are cats the next most logical thing to become after captains?
So there you have it; these were the kids we worked with. Our team of workers was amazing as well. We had M families from all over East Africa – Kenya, Sudan, Rwanda, Uganda, Tanzania, Madagascar. Some of the kids spoke Swahili, some spoke French, some spoke English, some didn’t speak at all yet :) They all are growing up experiencing more of the world than most others. They endure sweltering deserts, strange customs, violent religious intolerance, and they all carry the heartache to reach the people they’re sharing life with for Jesus.
I can’t express the amount of respect I have gained for our mission overseas. These men and women sent by the AG have sacrificed convenience and ease, placed their families in extremely difficult and sometimes dangerous situations, and are making an eternal difference. And I am proud and honored to have observed and shared a small part of their lives during the week at Brackenhurst and to be able to call them all friend.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Day 17: And the Living Was Easy
For the first time in many days, we planned a day with nothing planned :) It's been wonderful seeing all the sights and visiting all the local "musts," but sometimes it's great to wake up and have nothing on the schedule.
Because of our later night last night and our free day today, we decided to sleep in. And it was wonderful. Tomorrow we are leaving for the East Africa M's gathering at Brackenhurst and will be working all week with childcare, so we definitely need to get rested for all the fun that awaits us. Haha! At first, I wasn't thrilled that I was assigned to the 0-4 year old range; I was kind of holding out for elementary or middle school. But then I got to thinking that because they are short on staff, I should be happy to help in any area. It's not like it's a big deal - but now my heart's in it. The parents of the kids I'll be watching are gathering for security training, and if I can help them at all so that they can learn to be better prepared in hostage/dangerous situations, I am honored to do so.
So, because we are leaving soon and had a free day, we mostly spent our time doing laundry and cleaning house. I've been super spoiled while here, so it's good that we were able to help with some of the housework today. After lunch, we headed over to the Windsor to sun and work out. The sunning didn't go over so well since we went around 4 pm and it was kind of cloudy, but the working out went well. Ruthie and I were joking that we're starting the new year off right by exercising - although that was not the original intent for going :)
To end the day, we watched Inception this evening with Ruthie's parents. Neither one had seen the show, so it was fun watching it with them. Of course, it's still interesting and suspenseful the 3rd time through too. And on the note of dreaming, I'm going to sign off now and head to sleep. Because this last week I will be at Brackenhurst there may be no updates soon. But at least you'll know why. And then it's homeward bound!
Because of our later night last night and our free day today, we decided to sleep in. And it was wonderful. Tomorrow we are leaving for the East Africa M's gathering at Brackenhurst and will be working all week with childcare, so we definitely need to get rested for all the fun that awaits us. Haha! At first, I wasn't thrilled that I was assigned to the 0-4 year old range; I was kind of holding out for elementary or middle school. But then I got to thinking that because they are short on staff, I should be happy to help in any area. It's not like it's a big deal - but now my heart's in it. The parents of the kids I'll be watching are gathering for security training, and if I can help them at all so that they can learn to be better prepared in hostage/dangerous situations, I am honored to do so.
So, because we are leaving soon and had a free day, we mostly spent our time doing laundry and cleaning house. I've been super spoiled while here, so it's good that we were able to help with some of the housework today. After lunch, we headed over to the Windsor to sun and work out. The sunning didn't go over so well since we went around 4 pm and it was kind of cloudy, but the working out went well. Ruthie and I were joking that we're starting the new year off right by exercising - although that was not the original intent for going :)
To end the day, we watched Inception this evening with Ruthie's parents. Neither one had seen the show, so it was fun watching it with them. Of course, it's still interesting and suspenseful the 3rd time through too. And on the note of dreaming, I'm going to sign off now and head to sleep. Because this last week I will be at Brackenhurst there may be no updates soon. But at least you'll know why. And then it's homeward bound!
Day 16: Masai Market, Sudan Team, and Bringing in 2011
Yesterday we awoke to some sad news. There was no water. Yep, the water pump had somehow stopped working, so no water. Which meant no shower, no brushing teeth, no toilet water. Nada. The only sink that worked was that in the kitchen since it was connected to city supplies. Until about noon. Then we just didn't have hot water. Haha! On top of no water, there was no internet. For some reason, it also just decided not to work. Ruthie and I were thinking that if only there were no electricity, it would be a perfect Kenyan experience :)
The plan did not go as expected in the morning...other difficulties kept coming up. First one thing, then another. It was a little frustrating since we had decided to go to Village and visit the Masai Market. It's only held on Fridays and we only had yesterday to go. Masai market is a huge bartering grounds for traditional Masai merchandise such as jewelry, bowls, blankets, carved figures, paintings, keychains, clothing, and tons more. I had been holding out to buy some jewelry there and we needed time to barter. Nothing is every fast when bartering is involved.
We eventually got to Village. Then we ate at the Lowenberg's favorite Thai place. It was delicious! As we made our way to the food court, Julia and Ruthie kept running into people they knew. There were people from Kenya, from Rosslyn, from Sudan, from Madagascar, from Evangel. The list goes on....everything here is relational which is great sometimes. But if you're a Westerner like me, it can become tiring. I'm always one for a plan, especially if time limits are involved. But the girls would stop and have a lengthy conversation just to wrap it up, walk a little ways closer to our goal, and then be stopped by someone else. Part of the frustration was constantly not knowing those they did. It can be slightly tiring perpetually meeting new people, being out of your element, not quite understanding how everything is done.
Anyway, we had a wonderful lunch then headed up to the next level to the market. Ruthie and I split from her mom and Julia to peruse the goods. Our tactics was as follows: find an aisle, walk down the aisle with eyes glued to both sides of the ground where the merchandise was displayed, find something we liked, try not to show too much interest in said item, decide on acceptable final price, then approach owner with "Sister, how much? We need a good price." Upon this question, Sister would name an outrageous amount, we would be vocally shocked by the number, then she would ask how much we would pay. At this point, we would name a price significantly below what we would pay and she would be shocked stating the qualities of the item that made it worth more, etc. We would barter back and forth each conceding a small amount until we reached an agreement. If the owner would not come down enough or quickly enough, we would have to forfeit the item and move on. Some of the items we would be willing to pay 200 shillings for the owner would start at 1500 shillings. We would eventually meet at a middle ground. And then we did this over and over with each item we found.
Bartering can be exhausting and frustrating. It can also be a ton of fun. Ruthie has learned throughout her life that as long as you keep smiling and joking, they are more likely to do the same. It's a friendly game. When it becomes less than friendly, it is no fun. Some of the reasons she had for bringing down the price were amazing. She would pull the resident card often - "I must have resident price. Nairobi is my home town." Unlike me, who when they would ask where I was from, would have to answer America. Nothing like being pegged as the rich, white person who they could cheat out of some money.
We ended our time at Masai market completely wiped out but mostly happy with our purchases. There was only one owner who we felt did not offer a good deal, but otherwise everyone else was great. Because we were having Julia's Sudan team over for dinner later that night, we were on a time crunch to get back to the house, so were hurrying to meet up with their mom to head back. However, it was a big repeat of when we arrived. We kept running into people they knew :) Most of them from the Sudan team fortunately. At least they hadn't left for the Lowenberg house yet.
Once we were back, everything was crazy busy getting ready for the team of 15. Julia was so excited for all of us to meet the people she has grown so close to over the past year. They were all extremely sweet and several of the girls tried to recruit Ruthie and me to come out and help with their work. Part of the draw included the advantages of living in Sudan: you have instant hot water from the tap, pirated dvds, designated dress code, etc. Everything they may have complained about, they quickly jokingly changed to a benefit of living where they did :)
We played volleyball when the team first arrived, then we had dinner. After dinner, we spent some time just chatting with each other. Then the evening ended with Julia giving them a mini-concert on the piano since none of them had really heard her play before and were dying to do so. They had to leave quite early because their driver was waiting during their visit and was paid by the hour. Plus, I think they wanted to be back before it was extremely late and dark.
Just as soon as they left the house, we cleaned up and scurried over to the youth center where the A/G missionary families were having a New Year's Eve service. There were kids and parents, other adults and friends all gathered together having a lovely time. There was a friendly game of soccer going on when we arrived, and at the request of Priscilla I joined in. I've never been extremely comfortable playing team sports, but it was still fun. I think the group you play with can make all the difference, and the group I played with was amazingly easy-going.
After the game ended by the soccer ball getting stuck in a tall tree, we headed to the center for a worship service and short message. At the last moment, Uncle Steve asked Ruthie to lead worship so he could play sax, and then I helped out with harmonies as well. It was a relaxed atmosphere and we had a great time. The songs were interspersed with testimonies. There were several families from Madagascar as well as from Kenya and a few people from Sudan the the States :)
The rest of the evening was spent playing board games, eating munchies, and watching Josiah and Micah set off fireworks. I'm still amazed at how boys are attracted to fire and anything that blows up. It's so much fun just to watch how much fun they're having lighting the fireworks and running for safety. Or not running for safety and getting burned. Or having match wars where they light the match and through them at each other before running away screaming. Haha! I'm pretty sure I could adopt the Pennington family and never be bored. They're so endearing. Aunt Trina just watched, smiled, and shook her head.
It was a wonderful way to say goodbye to the old year and hello to the new. Usually at this time of the year, I like to think back through all that's happened in the last year, but so much has happened in this one that it's a little overwhelming. So I haven't yet :)
Who knew a year ago that I would be spending my Christmas break in Africa? That in the span of January 2010 to January 2011 I would have been out of the country twice? That I would have toured the West coast? That I would have had amazing experiences with awesome friends all over the world? Or that I would have spent the summer living away from home? That I would have graduated? That I would have done so many neat new things.
God has been faithful in so many ways. I can never truly know everything he has done for me, but I can thank him for his guidance, wisdom, protection, blessings, and goodness each and every day. My only resolution so far for 2011 is to be closer to Jesus at the end of the year than I am at the beginning. There may be other ones that are decided upon soon, but for now, this is a worthy priority and will be for every new year to come.
The plan did not go as expected in the morning...other difficulties kept coming up. First one thing, then another. It was a little frustrating since we had decided to go to Village and visit the Masai Market. It's only held on Fridays and we only had yesterday to go. Masai market is a huge bartering grounds for traditional Masai merchandise such as jewelry, bowls, blankets, carved figures, paintings, keychains, clothing, and tons more. I had been holding out to buy some jewelry there and we needed time to barter. Nothing is every fast when bartering is involved.
We eventually got to Village. Then we ate at the Lowenberg's favorite Thai place. It was delicious! As we made our way to the food court, Julia and Ruthie kept running into people they knew. There were people from Kenya, from Rosslyn, from Sudan, from Madagascar, from Evangel. The list goes on....everything here is relational which is great sometimes. But if you're a Westerner like me, it can become tiring. I'm always one for a plan, especially if time limits are involved. But the girls would stop and have a lengthy conversation just to wrap it up, walk a little ways closer to our goal, and then be stopped by someone else. Part of the frustration was constantly not knowing those they did. It can be slightly tiring perpetually meeting new people, being out of your element, not quite understanding how everything is done.
Anyway, we had a wonderful lunch then headed up to the next level to the market. Ruthie and I split from her mom and Julia to peruse the goods. Our tactics was as follows: find an aisle, walk down the aisle with eyes glued to both sides of the ground where the merchandise was displayed, find something we liked, try not to show too much interest in said item, decide on acceptable final price, then approach owner with "Sister, how much? We need a good price." Upon this question, Sister would name an outrageous amount, we would be vocally shocked by the number, then she would ask how much we would pay. At this point, we would name a price significantly below what we would pay and she would be shocked stating the qualities of the item that made it worth more, etc. We would barter back and forth each conceding a small amount until we reached an agreement. If the owner would not come down enough or quickly enough, we would have to forfeit the item and move on. Some of the items we would be willing to pay 200 shillings for the owner would start at 1500 shillings. We would eventually meet at a middle ground. And then we did this over and over with each item we found.
Bartering can be exhausting and frustrating. It can also be a ton of fun. Ruthie has learned throughout her life that as long as you keep smiling and joking, they are more likely to do the same. It's a friendly game. When it becomes less than friendly, it is no fun. Some of the reasons she had for bringing down the price were amazing. She would pull the resident card often - "I must have resident price. Nairobi is my home town." Unlike me, who when they would ask where I was from, would have to answer America. Nothing like being pegged as the rich, white person who they could cheat out of some money.
We ended our time at Masai market completely wiped out but mostly happy with our purchases. There was only one owner who we felt did not offer a good deal, but otherwise everyone else was great. Because we were having Julia's Sudan team over for dinner later that night, we were on a time crunch to get back to the house, so were hurrying to meet up with their mom to head back. However, it was a big repeat of when we arrived. We kept running into people they knew :) Most of them from the Sudan team fortunately. At least they hadn't left for the Lowenberg house yet.
Once we were back, everything was crazy busy getting ready for the team of 15. Julia was so excited for all of us to meet the people she has grown so close to over the past year. They were all extremely sweet and several of the girls tried to recruit Ruthie and me to come out and help with their work. Part of the draw included the advantages of living in Sudan: you have instant hot water from the tap, pirated dvds, designated dress code, etc. Everything they may have complained about, they quickly jokingly changed to a benefit of living where they did :)
We played volleyball when the team first arrived, then we had dinner. After dinner, we spent some time just chatting with each other. Then the evening ended with Julia giving them a mini-concert on the piano since none of them had really heard her play before and were dying to do so. They had to leave quite early because their driver was waiting during their visit and was paid by the hour. Plus, I think they wanted to be back before it was extremely late and dark.
Just as soon as they left the house, we cleaned up and scurried over to the youth center where the A/G missionary families were having a New Year's Eve service. There were kids and parents, other adults and friends all gathered together having a lovely time. There was a friendly game of soccer going on when we arrived, and at the request of Priscilla I joined in. I've never been extremely comfortable playing team sports, but it was still fun. I think the group you play with can make all the difference, and the group I played with was amazingly easy-going.
After the game ended by the soccer ball getting stuck in a tall tree, we headed to the center for a worship service and short message. At the last moment, Uncle Steve asked Ruthie to lead worship so he could play sax, and then I helped out with harmonies as well. It was a relaxed atmosphere and we had a great time. The songs were interspersed with testimonies. There were several families from Madagascar as well as from Kenya and a few people from Sudan the the States :)
The rest of the evening was spent playing board games, eating munchies, and watching Josiah and Micah set off fireworks. I'm still amazed at how boys are attracted to fire and anything that blows up. It's so much fun just to watch how much fun they're having lighting the fireworks and running for safety. Or not running for safety and getting burned. Or having match wars where they light the match and through them at each other before running away screaming. Haha! I'm pretty sure I could adopt the Pennington family and never be bored. They're so endearing. Aunt Trina just watched, smiled, and shook her head.
It was a wonderful way to say goodbye to the old year and hello to the new. Usually at this time of the year, I like to think back through all that's happened in the last year, but so much has happened in this one that it's a little overwhelming. So I haven't yet :)
Who knew a year ago that I would be spending my Christmas break in Africa? That in the span of January 2010 to January 2011 I would have been out of the country twice? That I would have toured the West coast? That I would have had amazing experiences with awesome friends all over the world? Or that I would have spent the summer living away from home? That I would have graduated? That I would have done so many neat new things.
God has been faithful in so many ways. I can never truly know everything he has done for me, but I can thank him for his guidance, wisdom, protection, blessings, and goodness each and every day. My only resolution so far for 2011 is to be closer to Jesus at the end of the year than I am at the beginning. There may be other ones that are decided upon soon, but for now, this is a worthy priority and will be for every new year to come.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)