Restoration

This weekend was the annual presbytery convention in Kiambu. It was a huge, festive occasion that began Friday morning and ended late Sunday afternoon. We spent three days dancing, praying, singing, studying, and listening for the Word together. Rev Scott Weimer came all the way from North Ave Presbyterian Church in Atlanta to preach for the 3 day convention. The theme was taken from Lamentations 5:21 - Restore us to yourself, O Lord, that we may be restored.

My favorite part of the weekend was a Bible study that took place on Saturday morning. The entire gathering broke into small groups to read and discuss Lamentations 5. I joined the youth Bible study with others aged 18-35. As we read the words of the exilic community, I was struck by the way they reflect much of what can be seen here in Kenya: land that has been taken by foreigners, young boys staggering under heavy loads, children orphaned by violence and disease, water that is scarce or unavailable, famine, rape, corrupt leaders. It is like the author of Lamentations picked up the Daily Nation newspaper and transcribed its contents into our Scripture. I wondered what would be said about the passage; I wondered how my Kenyan friends and colleagues would react to the words of lament. As usual, I was challenged by the persistent hope of the gathered community.
The Bible study was not mournful; it did not focus on injustice or alienation. We talked of hope, of restoration, of justice. We talked about the ways that the Church must turn toward God by turning toward the world, by caring for creation, by recognizing the interdependence of all things. We talked about the preservation of the Mau forest, about youth empowerment, about water projects and access to higher education. I heard through our time together about the many ways God is already at work restoring the world through this community. For our context, we defined restoration as “bringing back.” We talked of God bringing us back to a place where we can again see the interconnectedness of our lives and our world. We talked of God restoring to us those aspects of our humanity that have been distorted by selfishness and alienation, and God restoring all of creation to its intended purpose. We acknowledged that the Church lives and acts as a sign of hope in the world, until the day when all of creation is restored.

We had a good time of discussion and reflection that took seriously the issues faced by the Kenyan church today, but it took just as seriously the Spirit’s ongoing work of renewal. I am thankful for the voice in Lamentations that cries out to God in the midst of despair, and I am thankful for the church here that hopes and prays and dances on the Way toward restoration.

Kenya vs Nigeria

Here are some photos from this past Saturday when the Kenyan soccer team competed against the Nigerian team in a qualifying match for the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. The game started at 4:00 pm, so I left Westlands with some friends around 11:30 am to make sure that we were there in plenty of time. The energy in downtown Nairobi was infectious: the air was full of laughter, music, and excitement. Everywhere I looked there were Kenyan jerseys, flags were flying from car and matatu windows, and people were decked out in the national colors. Strangers were shouting their support to each other across the traffic…it felt like everyone was ready for the game! We ended up losing 2-3, and Nigeria qualified for the World Cup, but we had a great time anyway!

A Sacramental Weekend

I knew when I left Nairobi Friday afternoon that it was going to be a good weekend: the sun was shining, the traffic was light, and the matatu music was loud. Nicole and I traveled up to Gatundu to join some of the teachers from Icaciri Sec School for 3 kgs of nyama choma (roasted meat) and a night of fun. The meat-eating festivities were quickly followed by a rousing game of Go Fish and a great deal of dancing both to Kikuyu music and Michael Jackson. Saturday morning I woke early to the sound of a persistent rooster and went to have chai with the kitchen staff members. Afterwards, I was able to spend some time with the Form 4 students who are preparing to leave school when they finish their exams on Tuesday. The students at Icaciri have taught me much about how to dance, laugh, speak Kiswahili, walk with style, talk about boys, and share my faith, so I was immensely thankful for the chance to sit and share this special time with them. The morning was as full of laughter and dancing as the previous night.
At around 1 pm, it was off to Banana with some new friends for a wedding reception. Now, I had never met the bride or groom before, but upon our arrival, we were immediately whisked to the front of the venue and given seats among the members of the wedding party. So much for trying to blend into the crowd. During a series of very long speeches, Nicole and I decided to spend some time with the many children gathered around and asked if they wanted to learn a dance. They enthusiastically agreed, so we all practiced doing the Chicken Dance together - I am still laughing at the image in my mind.
Sunday was another early morning, as I headed to Kiambu to preach in the English worship service at Kangoya PCEA. I must admit that I was more than “a bit” nervous, since this was my first time preaching in Kenya, and I doubted whether I had anything relevant to say. As I looked out at the congregation during the Scripture readings, a strange thing happened, one of those moments of revelation: I realized again that preaching is not about what I say; it is about what the Spirit says in and through me. I was nervous because no one in the sanctuary looked like me or sounded like me, but as we stood to sing a hymn, it became clear that we are connected to one another. We all share this gift of life, and we all rely on God’s gracious love. It is a humbling gift to stand and proclaim the Word of God, to speak the good news of our faith, and I pray that I never lose that feeling of nervousness. Later in the service, we celebrated Communion, the physical manifestation of God’s life-affirming grace, and I was glad to be at the Table with the men and women of Kiambu. I thought over the entire weekend and the many sacred, sacramental moments I had experienced: over a plate of nyama choma, walking barefoot in the grass, taking hot chai in the cold morning, holding the hand of a child, and sharing a hug, a story, a laugh. The weekend was filled with ordinary occurrences, yet it was infused with the sacredness that comes when we share ourselves with one another.
I ended Sunday night by eating chapati pizzas in the kitchen with my roommates and watching a bootleg version of High School Musical 3. What could be better?

Lights Please!!

Beginning on Sunday evening around 6:30 pm, the power went out all over Kenya: Nairobi, Nakuru, Kisumu, Kericho, all of the urban centers were thrown into darkness. This is apparently due to a "technical" problem at the Aggreko power station. By Monday morning most of the power was back on and work resumed as usual... until 11:00 am when the power went down again and remained off until late Monday night. Now it is Tuesday morning, the power was on at 6:00 am but has currently gone out 3 times since I arrived at work around 9:00. Each time it remains out long enough to shut down everything in the office.

Some of you are probably surprised that this annoys me. I am not very particular about time management or efficiency. I would rather have a good conversation than finish a report. I have learned as much from long car rides, walks any and everyhwere, and late night discussions as I have in any classroom. I believe that sitting with someone can offer more healing than trying to solve their problems. Pretty much, I like to just "be" whether with friends and family, a cup of chai, a good book, or a patch of grass.

However, yesterday when I had a report to finish, a sermon to write, meetings to attend, and emails to answer, I was not so content to just "be" all day long. I grew tired of listening to stories and wanted to get back to work. Haha. Apparently God (aka Kenya Power and Lighting) had other plans, and they seem to include disrupting today as well. As I sit and type now, I am thankful for this reminder that my life is not defined by my schedule or my to do list. I do not really believe that God causes power outages, but I do believe that I can learn something from my reaction to them.

St.Andrews Womens Guild

This is a video from the worship service for Fellowship of the Least Coin. I have been trying to upload it for over two weeks, and it finally worked! The St.Andrew's Womens Guild performed a Kikuyu folk song based on the story of Esther. Even if you can't understand the words, enjoy the music and energy of the song!

Intercessory Prayer

One: Creating, Redeeming, and Sustaining God, you are known by many names and peoples. We appeal to you now, on behalf of ourselves and the communities we represent:

One: God of the North, South, East, and West, for a world divided along lines of race, ethnicity, class, and religion;
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

One: Pain-bearer, for women and girls around the world who are told they are useless and unworthy;
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

One: Footwasher, for boys and men around the world who are told they must dominate and abuse those they love;
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

One: Author of Wisdom, for children who are denied access to education and opportunity;
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

One: Earth-maker, for the good creation that we have exploited and contaminated,
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

One: Fountain of Living Water, for those who struggle to survive not knowing where they will find food or clean water;
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

One: Proclaimer of Good News, for the media that portrays women as sex objects and men as criminals,
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

One: Life Giver, for communities and individuals who seek relationships of dominance instead of mutuality;
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

One: Sharer of Bread, for those who hoard the abundance you have created, impoverishing themselves and those around them;
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

One: Prince of Peace, for the violence that destroys communities, ends life, defiles innocence, and sheds blood,
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

One: Great Healer, for all of those who are tortured by militaries, poverty, disease, and pain,
Many: Lord, hear our prayer.

Many: Lord, all of creation groans for the redemption you have promised. Lord, come quickly and urgently into this world. Lord, come quickly. Lord, come. Amen.

Fellowship of the Least Coin

The Fellowship of the Least Coin is an organization that I had never heard of until recently when I attended a meeting to plan for their arrival in Nairobi. Later I was asked to help write the liturgy for their opening worship service, and I gladly agreed. As I have learned about this ecumenical women’s movement, I have been amazed at the power of faithful and persistent prayer when it is combined with acts of justice and mercy. The FLC began in 1956 with one woman's prayers for healing during a time of war, and it has grown into a network of thousands of women from various countries and denominations who commit themselves to pray for justice and reconciliation in the world. With each prayer, they set aside the ‘least coin’ of their currency as an offering. It is important that it be the 'least coin' so that women from any economic background are able to participate. These offerings are then sent to a central office and used to fund projects that provide emergency relief, empower women and children in marginalized communities, and support ecumenical solidarity throughout the world. Grant recipients can be found in communities on every continent including many here in Kenya.

Sunday at St.Andrew's PCEA, the International Committee for the Fellowship of the Least Coin gathered to celebrate their opening worship. This gathering brought together fifteen women from around the world as well as nearly five hundred (mostly) women from in and around Nairobi. We sang traditional hymns, danced to Kiswahili choruses of praise, prayed and laughed together, committed ourselves anew to work for justice and reconciliation, and honored five extraordinary Kenyan women who have committed their lives to empowering those around them. Rev Phyllis Byrd-Ochilo preached a powerful sermon based on the story of Elijah and the widow (1 Kings 17:7-16) calling all of us to recognize the miracles that are worked when we offer whatever we have to the service of God and one another. It was a beautiful time of worship and prayer as well as a reminder of the power we have as women of faith when we gather together.

Prayer Request: Drought

As many of you know, over the past few months Kenya has been experiencing a severe drought. In the most affected areas it has meant the loss of livestock (cows, camels, and goats) the loss of crops, and the loss of human life (both to starvation and cholera). Pastoralists are leaving their regions and travelling many kilometers to look for grazing land, even showing up along the roadways of the city.
For those of us in Nairobi, the drought has meant the rationing of water and electricity, and in many areas water is available only from Thurs-Sun. At first I did not understand why a drought would also mean rationing electricity, but soon came to learn that much of Kenya’s power is generated through hydroelectric plants. Therefore, the power is cut off on certain days as a conservation measure.
October normally begins the rainy seaston, and this weekend has brought the long needed rain to Central Province. Yet, even as the rainy season begins, I ask that you pray for the nation and people of Kenya as the effects of this drought continue to be felt in the months

A Wedding/ Bus Dedication/ Ordination Service

This weekend, I again made my way to Kiambu parish where my good friend Rev Martin Mwangi serves as pastor in order to “attend” a wedding on Saturday and the elder ordination service on Sunday.

On Saturday, we left Kiambu at around 6:00 am to travel the 3+ hours “up-country” to Nyahururu where Martin previously served as parish minister. On the way, we made a brief stop in Gilgil to dedicate and bless a new school bus for a local primary school. Once we arrived at our destination, we were warmly greeted by many of Martin’s former parishioners and taken into the vestry to meet with the current pastor. Of course, I assumed that after we had greeted one another, I would go find a seat with the congregation while they prepared for the service. I should have known that was not going to happen. Instead, I was given a part in the service right along with Martin and Rev Muhia, despite the fact that I had yet to meet the bride and groom! As I joined the procession of men and women headed to the front of the sanctuary, I had to smile to myself at the situation: I would be doing an English reading from Genesis in an otherwise completely Kikuyu service and giving a short introductory speech about myself and my work with the PCEA. Thanks be to God, I know enough Kikuyu from my time in Gatundu to say hello, praise God, and then introduce myself. These introductions are always received with much laughter by those gathered. Approximately 3 hours of speeches, prayers, songs, Bible readings, and sermons later the wedding was over, and we made our way to the reception. Afterwards, we visited Thompson’s Falls, a beautiful waterfall, with Martin’s two daughters, Abigail and Wangui. We finally arrived back home in Kiambu around 9:30 pm, so we could get some sleep and prepare for the ordination service the next day.
Sunday morning I prepared to take part in the English worship service, only to be told that the preacher had not arrived, would I fill in? I began to panic! Don’t worry, Martin assured me, your sermon only has to be 20-30 minutes. Luckily, just as the worship was beginning, she walked through the door, and I started breathing again. I gladly took one of the Bible readings and made another short “speech.” When the English service ended at 10:15, we prepared for the Kikuyu service and the ordination that would take place. Each choir from the 8 congregations offered a song to celebrate the day along with many other groups. It was a beautiful service: the new elders were called forward to take their vows, then their spouses joined them, and the forty old elders surrounded them in a time of prayer. The entire weekend was a witness to the work that God is doing in and through the church here and to the embodied belief that we do not simply attend worship but participate with our whole selves (even when we feel completely unprepared).

Elder Training - Kiambu

Last weekend, I was privileged to participate in the elder training at Kiambu Parish outside of Nairobi. One of the great things about the PCEA (Presbyterian Church of East Africa) is the amount of responsibility given to its elders. The men and women who sit on the session are not merely church leaders. In a parish like Kiambu with 8 churches and only 1 pastor, they are preachers, teachers, care-givers, worship leaders, and much more. The newly elected elders came together for a week of training under the care and supervision of Rev Martin Mwangi. They began Tuesday evening and continued each day until Saturday. By the time I arrived Friday evening, they had already covered church governance, pastoral care skills, theology of sacraments, and a host of other topics. It was exciting to see the ways that God is using and preparing these leaders for service in their communities.

I was surprised to see a number of younger men and women at the training, and I believe that the session here might be more balanced in terms of age and gender than many I know in the PCUSA. They have made a conscience choice to represent a diversity of people in their session, and during the training, each individual told their personal story. It was a wonderful way to hear the different voices and perspectives that will participate in leading the church in this place. All of those who were trained last week will be ordained this Sunday, October 4 in a joint service for all 8 congregations. I am sure it will be a day to celebrate. God is doing exciting things in Kiambu Parish, and I am glad to be a small part of them!

Contact Information

I have been in Nairobi for a little over three weeks now, and I have begun to get settled and develop a routine. I am staying in an apartment in Westlands, Nairobi with a roommate, Nicole, and am able to receive mail at the church where I will be working.

Loresho Community Church
PO Box 23500-00625
Nairobi
Kenya

My phone number is:
011 254 729 925938
**Feel free to call or text, but remember that there is a 7 hour time difference!

I will post an update and some pictures in the next couple of days… looking forward to hearing from you!!

Loresho

I have been back in Kenya a little over a week now, and it has busy time of seeing old friends, meeting new friends, and getting reoriented to life here in Nairobi.
I knew that I was definitely back in Kenya on Sunday when Rev Agola picked me up for worship at 8:00 am, and I did not return home until 6:30 that same evening. Before we even left the compound where I am staying, there was a problem with Rev Agola’s car: the battery was dead. Since no one had any jumper cables, he simply took the battery out of our friend Phyllis’ car and connected the two batteries with two metal tools. I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see anyone electrocuted. To my great surprise it worked almost immediately, the car started, and we were on our way. We attended Loresho Community Church where Rev Agola is pastor. We sang, prayed, and worshipped together. Afterwards, there was lots of chai to drink and many new people to meet. I spent most of the afternoon with the pastor and his family in their home where we ate githeri, greeted church members, and, yes, took more chai. I am looking forward to everything this year will hold!

Safari Njema (Safe Journey)

Thanks be to God!

I made it safely to Nairobi Wednesday night after 20+ hours travelling. It is good to be back here, and every moment has confirmed that this is exactly where God has called me to be at this time. Yesterday, I was able to go and visit Icaciri Secondary School where I served from 2006-2007 and was met by a chorus of shouting students. It was great to see kids that I left in Form 1 and 2 (9th and 10th grade) now ruling the school in Forms 3 and 4.

In the coming days, I look forward to meeting the people I will serve with in Loresho this year and to learning more about what God is doing in this place.

Peace be with you all!

May/June Newsletter

The last two months, I have spent at school in Gatundu during the middle of Kenyan winter. “Winter” basically means that the temperature hovers around the mid-sixties, but everyone dresses in scarves, heavy jackets, and wool caps. Kids walk around with their entire faces covered! I have to laugh sometimes, but I must admit that 65 feels a lot cooler after being in the Kenyan sun for the past ten months, and I am often in a sweatshirt myself!
When we returned from Mombasa in May, we began a new term, my last one at Icaciri. It has been a term full of moments that are both ordinary and hilarious. I have woken up to the sound of drums coming from the church, stepped outside to see the matron sweeping the leaves off of the path to our home with a broom made of bigger leaves, and been stampeded by a group of primary school children all shouting "how are you? how are you?" as I walked by their school one afternoon. I have spent time sitting in the field on Sunday afternoons talking to our students, and laughed when one of my Form 2 girls, Jemimah, looked at me and said "Teacher, you have hair that is for a horse. My hair is for a human being!" One of their favorite activities these days is to imitate the way that Kari and I walk. Our students here never cease to make me laugh, though it is mostly at myself. At the same time, the past two months have been extremely eventful. The Icaciri handball team was second in Central Province, which is exciting because they had to compete against many schools that are more equipped and better funded. Our school had a "Prize-Giving Day" where they awarded all of the top students in the various grades, the athletes, and the prefects for their hard work. It was fun to see them rewarded for all of the work they put into school and to see their excitement about introducing us to their parents and siblings. Our soccer season both began and ended this term, as our team lost in the division finals last week. I even had a visit from Rebecca McRae, a good friend from W&L, which was amazing! It was so good to have her come, to share with her part of my life here, and to talk to her about her experiences in Tanzania where she was also volunteering this month. What a blessing it was to see her for the first time in almost a year!

Towards the middle of June, all of the volunteers that I am serving with in Kenya got together in Zanzibar for our final retreat. It was a time when we could all rest and hear about the different experiences people have had this year. It also gave me a chance to reflect on what my time here has meant and what it means to go home at the end of this month. When I left Darlington last August, I was leaving my home for a mostly unknown place. Now, as the time nears for me to return, I am leaving a place that has become my home and a community that has become a part of my family and a part of who I am. I have learned more about myself and my faith than I could ever have imagined a year ago. It has been a crazy journey over the past eleven months, but I know without a doubt that this is where God called me to be this year and that He has changed who I am and who I will be by my time here. I have come to a place where logic cannot take me any farther, where I cannot reconcile the brokenness of our world to the idea of a merciful God, and that is a good and a scary place to be, because it is a place where faith happens.

I came here with ideas of mission work as a partnership and those ideas have only been strengthened by my time here. I know now that our lives are bound to the lives of everyone else on this earth, that we are a part of a greater humanity. What that has come to mean is that I am not complete without other people, that I cannot be free until others are free. While we were in Zanzibar, we visited the slave dungeons just near the coast. They were the last stop before men and women from all over East and West Africa were shipped out to Europe, America, and the Middle East. We sat in the same rooms where people were held before being sold into captivity, we saw the tree where they were whipped to determine who was the "strongest" and therefore could fetch a higher price. Even while we were still there, thinking of the promise that never again would our world allow such an atrocity to rob a continent and a people of its strength and dignity, I remembered the bondage that still exists today. I saw the faces of girls who live in Korogocho slum, and the smile of a 7-year old dying of AIDS. I thought back to the street children sifting through piles of garbage in Nairobi, clinging desperately to bottles of glue that can dispel the hunger that plagues their days and nights. I thought of women who spend hours each day fetching water, and of girls in Mombasa who sell themselves into the sex trade because they don't have any other options. People who are not free to make decisions. When my own students get sent home for school fees every term, they are not choosing to end their educations; they are simply unable to continue because they are unable to afford secondary education. I have questioned God this year and have failed to find answers, until I realized that God does not always give answers, instead He gives Himself. Through a pain-filled sacrifice made by a man whose heart was broken by our brokenness, by our inhumanity towards one another, He gave Himself. And in those moments when we can ease the burden of someone else, or when we can allow them to ease ours, we come in contact with our Lord. As I prepare to return to the states in the next few weeks, I want to thank all of you for your continued support and encouragement throughout this year. Thank you for all of the cards, letters, and e-mails that have helped me to remember the wonderful community that I have across the globe. It has been such a blessing to serve here this year and I thank all of you who have gone on this journey with me.

Grace and peace to you all,
Lauren

An Arrested Morning

So it turns out some of the police in Kenya aren't always so trustworthy...
One morning as we were on the way to a handball tournament in Makuyu, our school bus came across what appeared to be a routine road stop. Roadstops here, however, involve tire spikes and policemen armed with rifles at least 2 feet long. We came to a halt and one of the officers proceeded to inspect the bus. As he approached the window to speak with our driver, we realized something was amiss. The driver climbed down from the vehicle and began a discussion with the officer. Pretty soon, Kari and I got out of the bus as well to find out what the problem was. We discovered that the inspection sticker had expired the previous week and needed to be replaced. That seems simple enough, but oh no. The officer insisted on taking the driver and vehicle to the police station so he could write a bond. What?! We had 23 students on the bus who had a game to play! Eventually our two fellow teachers, Mr. Njenga and Ms. Kigia also alighted from the bus and joined the ongoing debate. As the discussion progressed, it became more and more heated with our teachers suggesting that we continue on the journey and bring the bus back after it dropped off the students and the officer refusing to allow the vehicle to move. As voices and tensions rose, it looked like the situations was going to turn ugly. All of the students unloaded themselves from the bus in the middle of a highway just in time to see one of the officers slap their teacher in the face and handcuff him. They then escorted Mr.Njenga to a waiting police lorry for "obstructing justice." All of our students were just shaking and many of the girls burst into tears. We later got Mr.Njenga back safely, and the girls won both of their games that day, but it was certainly a frightening way to begin the morning!
As it turns out, the officers were angry because the driver and teachers refused to give them a bribe to let us pass. Kenyan police are notorious for their corruption, and we got to see this firsthand, though hopefully it is not something we will have to witness again.

Congratulations Icaciri Handball

Handball is a game that I had never even heard of until coming to Kenya, yet somehow I spent almost every weekend in May travelling throughout Central Province watching the Icaciri handball team compete. It turns out we are missing out one of the most exciting and fun-filled sports I have ever seen. Handball seems to be a mix of soccer and basketball: players get called for travelling like basketball, but the ball is thrown into a goal similiar to that used on a soccer field. The game is incredibly fast moving and the ball changes hands quite alot which adds to the energy of the play. Each game consists of two 25 minute halves and a 5 minute half-time. Beginning in March, the Icaciri team started competing in our local zone and managed to make their way to the provinical tournament held in Murang'a District. They beat out hundreds of other teams to play in the finals for Central Province and fell just one game short of going to the national tournament in Western Kenya! Congratulations to them!!

One of my favorite things about the handball team is their ability to smile and laugh their way through anything! Their journey this year wasn't an easy one, but they managed to surpass everyone's expectations because they work together in a way I have seldom seen. I can't help but adore the girls on this team from their captain, Cate, to Gikonyo, the lead scorer. (*Both shown in the picture above) They are amazing and the joy with which they go about every activity never fails to refresh and inspire my spirit.

April Newsletter

I have come that all may have life and have it to the fullest.
John 10:10

The month of April has been nothing short of hilarious. It has been crazy and hectic, but also full of laughter and adventure! As in December, all of the Kenyan schools close for a month-long holiday and students go home to their families. This meant that the last weeks of March were filled with marking exams, filling out report forms, and saying goodbye to my students and my home for five weeks. As Kari and I left Icaciri, we prepared to go to Arusha, Tanzania where we thought we would be working this month. Little did we know what was in store for us. At 7:30 on the morning of April 11, we boarded a bus to Tanzania with only a business card and the vague idea that we would be working at Enaboishu Secondary School. Well arrive in Arusha we did, only to find out that the headmaster (whose business card we had been given) was out of town at a regional conference. We also quickly realized that the school to which we had been sent was a private school, fully staffed with teachers and 3 British volunteers to do any extra work. Not exactly what we were expecting! 3 days after arriving in Arusha, we boarded a bus back to Nairobi.
After the Arusha debaucle, I began to wonder if anything was going to work out or if we would spend the month of April wondering from place to place. Early Monday morning after our return, Kari and I met with a PCEA minister, Rev Harrison who recently moved to Nairobi from a church in Mombasa on the Kenyan coast. He assured us that he would find us a placement on the coast and let us know by the next day. True to his word, he contacted us Tuesday morning to say that everything was set, so Tuesday night we boarded an overnight bus to Mombasa with nothing but a name and a phone number to call once we arrived. I must say that by this point I was more than a little doubtful about the situation. As it turns out, this proved to be one of the best experiences I have had in Kenya. Kari and I lived with the Kamau family near Mtwapa and walked to work each day at the Shanzu Orphans Home (SOH) nearby. SOH is a beautiful place that houses 21 children from the ages of 2-15. One would normally think of an orphanage as a bleak, depressing place, but SOH is full of life and energy. Since the kids were also out of school for the holiday, we spent our time with them singing songs, teaching them the "Chicken Dance," and taking the older boys to the beach to play soccer. I think Kari and I had as much fun as the children!
Mombasa, as an area, is different than any other part of Kenya I have visited thus far, as it is bombarded every year with European tourists. This influx of people and money sets up a dynamic unlike any I have ever experienced. Aged German, Swiss, and British tourists walk hand-in-hand with beautiful young Kenyans, making child prostitution one of Mombasa's most lucrative ventures. As I looked at the children we worked and played with each day, it was horrifying to consider their options outside of SOH. I had a long talk with Baba Kamau one night about the sex trade on the coast and how poor children continue to fall victim to this gross exploitation. Our walk each day to SOH provided a perfect example of the conditions that allow such perversions to continually occur: just across the road from the luxurious beach resorts is a thatch-roofed village of shanty houses where the workers live with their families. The people in these homes do what it takes to survive.
As April began, my mind was a flurry of doubts and questions raised by much of what I have seen this year. Answers are not easy to find, but on April 7, something wonderful happened... Easter. I have begun to realize that all of the pain and suffering that we see in the world, all of the cries for justice, find their answer in the cross. The obscenity of a seven year old girl infected with HIV is reflected in the scandal of our crucified Lord. All of our suffering is heard in His cries.
I walked into worship Easter morning only half-believing that it would be any different than other Sundays. I left that morning knowing that pain cannot have the final word, because the cross is not the end. Easter dawns and with it dawns the promise that in the end, darkness will not prevail. The risen Christ offers us the healing and the redemption that we all so desperately need.

Our students sing a Swahili song that I think expresses this idea perfectly:

Mambo sawa sawa.
Mambo sawa sawa.
Yesu akiwa enzini.
Mambo sawa sawa.

Which in English translates:

Things are already better.
Things are already better.
When the Lord is on the throne,
Things are already better.

We live in a post-Easter world, our Lord is alive and on the throne, the healing has begun.

Peace to you all,
Lauren

Adventure Arusha

Sorry it has been so long since my last update, but the last few weeks have been nothing short of hilarious! April began with the end of first term and the closing of school for a month long holiday. For the first week, Kari and I stayed behind at Icaciri with our soccer team. Each day we made the trek from school to Mathare (part of Nairobi) for a tournament. Our girls made it to the quarter finals, but only because two of the three other teams in their pool forfeited... we didn't actually win any games, but we all had a great time anyway!
After the Mathare tournament, Kari and I stayed in Nairobi for a couple of days to meet with our coordinator about the next few weeks. On Thursday, April 9 at 7:30 am we boarded a bus for Arusha, Tanzania with only a business card and the vague promise that we would be working at a secondary school in the Arusha area. Well arrive in Arusha we did, only to find out that the headmaster (whose business card we had been given) was out of town at a regional conference. We also quickly realized that the school to which we had been sent was a private school, fully staffed with teachers and 3 British volunteers to do any extra work. Not exactly what we were expecting!
We called our site coordinator to inform her of the mix-up and to find out what other possibilities there were for us this April. So... exactly two days after we arrived in Tanzania to work for the month, we got back on an early morning bus and headed back to Kenya! Safely back in Nairobi, we met with a PCEA minister, Rev Harrison who told us about some work he had done in Mombasa, and a couple of days later we boarded an overnight bus to the coast with nothing but a name and a phone number to call when we arrived!
If nothing else, this month has been a continuous lesson in faith and flexibility. The past weeks have meant taking that first step (or bus ride) down a path you cannot see to a destination you do not know, but trusting nonetheless that our Lord will be there to guide you. And He has indeed been there each time and continues to guide each day that I serve here. God bless you all!

February Newsletter

February has been another whirlwind month, and it seems like time is flying by these days. We began the month at school with the addition of about seventy Form 1 (freshmen) students who now make up about a quarter of the student body. I am teaching both biology and history to one of the classes, so my number of lessons each week has almost doubled. The students, themselves, however are wonderful. They are excited and enthusiastic about school, which has been a blessing and a huge encouragement for me. Anytime I ask my Form 1 class a question, immediately thirty hands go up waving wildly and echoes of "teacher! teacher!" fill the clasroom.

Much to my surprise, Valentine's Day was a huge deal to our students at Icaciri, and all of them showed up wearing red shirts underneath their blue uniforms. It was hilarious as girls lined up around the school bus hoping to receive a card or letter from a "special" friend. Kari and I made cards for all of the girls on our soccer team, and as I went to class in the afternoon, I noticed that one of our girls had pinned hers to the front of her shirt! Sometimes the students make me laugh out loud.

One of the biggest struggles of the month came just two weeks after our new students arrived. One of the girls in my class, Evelyn Wanjiru, was taken to the hospital for a pregnancy test. When the result came back positive, her mother was called and came to Icaciri to get her. After talking to the deputy principal for a while, it was discovered that the man who impregnated her was the headmaster of her primary school, a man she trusted as an authority figure, and a good friend of her father. Whether or not he will be punished is yet to be determined, but in a culture where the attitudes about women and girls are still highly traditional, the word of a 14 year old girl has little weight against a respected older man. Later on the same week, one of my brightest Form 2 students, Beth Mirigo was sent home because her parents have failed to pay her school fees, and therefore she is not allowed to attend class. Education is the only way for kids in rural homes to get out of the poverty that cripples them, yet that same poverty prevents them from being educated. I sat outside for a long time that afternoon trying to make peace with this system, but I cannot get past the fact that it feels like students are being punished for being poor. We worship a God of love and justice, yet we live in a world visibly broken by inequality and unfairness. My life here brings about questions and difficulties I could never have imagined on my own, but I am learning to trust in the fact that God is big enough to answer the needs of a world that is tearing itself apart.

The last weekend of February, Kari and I travelled from our home in Gatundu to Nairobi to meet with the other volunteers, and head out on an adventure through Kenya. We left the city early Friday morning, loaded into two vans, and headed for Nyanza Province. We made it to the ancestral home of our coordinator's husband just before sunset. Their compound is up on a hill overlooking shambas below and just at the horizon you can see Lake Victoria, it is an amazing view. Ochillo's father had seven wives, and though his own mother is deceased, there were plenty of family members to welcome us, as always, with open arms. They had prepared a feast for us, and we tried a bit of everything, including fish eyeballs, which are a traditional Luo treat. Saturday morning dawned and we headed back down the hill into the village of Migori where we worked on building a children's home, picked maize, planted flowers, and painted a classroom in a local primary school. It was an action-packed day and we went home that night ready for some rest. Instead, we spent much of the evening laughing with the danis (Luo for grandmothers) who don't speak a word of English or Kiswahili, but who sang and clapped with us anyway.

Sunday morning we loaded back into the vans for a trip to the Masai Mara, one of Kenya's most densely populated game reserves. We left the Ochillo home at 7:30 am, expecting to reach our destination in time for lunch and a meeting with our coordinator, little did we know what lay ahead. Shortly after leaving Migori, our drivers decided to take a "shortcut," and that is when the real adventure began. We almost immediately got stuck in the mud, and an entire village showed up to point, laugh, and eventually offer some help. Unfortunately there were a few too many "chiefs" arguing about how they should help us, and we ended up stranded for about an hour. The journey continued in this manner for most of the day, but luckily we got better at pushing the van out on our own so each stop got a little shorter. That is until we made it about 60 km into the Masai Mara game reserve, home to lions, cheetahs, hippos, crocodiles, and an entire host of other wild animals. Just as darkness fell, we got stuck again, and this time we were stuck kabisa. For about two and a half hours we walked back and forth across the savannah trying to get ourselves out of the mud, hoping our noise would scare away any potential danger. Finally some rangers showed up, laughed a little, and pulled us out of the mud. We made it to our lodge at about 9:30 pm, approximately fourteen hours after leaving Nyanza!

Each day that I wake up here, I am thankful for the opportunity God has given me to learn and to grow, to see life in a different way. It can be challenging and overwhelming, but I would not change one moment.

Thank you all for your continued support and encouragement, your thoughts and prayers are a great blessing.

Grace and peace,
Lauren

Photos from Nyanza Province

Here are some pictures from our journey to Nyanza Province. Enjoy!

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