Maisha Tu

One of the exciting things about living in another culture is the novelty that fills each day. There are new languages to learn, different customs to understand, and, of course, distinct foods to try. Even ordinary tasks seem more adventurous because they are done away from home. After a certain amount of time, however, the novelty begins to wear off. Occurrences that startled or amused or frustrated at first begin to seem quite ordinary and expected. Lately, I have found myself in exactly that place where life is life, in all of its ordinary sacredness. So I find myself just living: creating routines, going to work, having dinner with friends, drinking tea, and building relationships. It is a gift to share life with people around the world, to realize each day that what connects us as human beings is stronger than those things we allow to divide us from one another.

In honor of this, I want to share with you some of the amusing and/or frustrating things that I regularly encounter:

• Riding in a bus clearly marked for 14 people with 22 other passengers (not counting children, live chickens, or bags or maize)
• Discussing the pros, cons, and theological implications of polygamy on a regular basis.
• Eating a goat kidney like a kebab.
• Getting stuck in a traffic jam for nearly an hour and realizing at the end that it was a herd of cows blocking the road
• Dowry negotiations. I have been told that this is not buying a wife; it is a sign of respect. (It still sounds like buying a wife to me)
• Going to the park and having a bag of peanuts stolen by a very aggressive monkey
• Riding through a very nice neighborhood (think of Buckhead) and seeing a camel (or another herd of cows) on the side of the road
• Being called Roline, Lorraine, Loreen, Loline, because Lauren is very hard to pronounce.
• Sitting through a 3 hour worship service in Kikuyu (a language I still can't completely follow). My favorite part is always the Lord's Prayer which makes me feel safe and at home whenever it is prayed.

I don’t write this list to perpetuate stereotypes or generalizations, only to share with you some of the diversity that makes life beautiful and interesting. Each day we have the opportunity to encounter a piece of this diversity as we interact with one another.

Advent: Urgent Waiting

Three Sundays ago began the season of Advent, the season of waiting before the birth of the Christ-child. Normally, this means a season filled with shopping, Christmas decorations, Advent wreaths, Santa Claus, poinsettias, carols, and liturgical color changes: my waiting is filled with doing and buying. The ironic thing is that all of the traditions and decorations fail to create in my heart the urgent desire for Christ’s coming. That doesn’t mean I love the Christmas season any less, but my waiting doesn’t usually focus on the coming of Jesus. Here in Nairobi, Advent feels a little different: the weather is hot, decorations are few, and the Church does not celebrate in the same manner, so I find myself waiting for the season to begin.
In response to the lack of Advent festivities, some of the volunteers and I created our own Advent wreath out of recycled materials: bottle caps, cardboard, and Safaricom phone cards. We hold our own candle-lighting services where we sing and pray and await the coming of Christ. It has become one of my favorite times of each week. Two Sundays ago we read Isaiah 11:1-9, we lit the Peace candle, and we talked of places where we have seen God’s peace breaking into the world.
Monday morning brought a rude awakening for me. I attended the launch of Picha Mtaani, a youth led initiative to promote dialogue and reconciliation in communities across the nation. On display in downtown Nairobi was an exhibition of photos from the post-election violence that ravaged Kenya in late 2007 and early 2008. The photos captured police brutality, charred shops, violent mobs, and tearful survivors. The exhibition is a graphic depiction of the worst that we as human beings can do to one another, and it offers a moving and disturbing cry for the peace that Yahweh promises where hurt and destruction will be no more. No more pangas, no more IDP camps, no more stones, no more tear gas. All of a sudden, the urgency of our need overwhelmed me, and the waiting seemed too much to bear. We need peace- real, sustainable, holistic peace. We need Christ to be born in our lives and in our world this day! As Advent continues, it is Christ alone for whom I urgently wait, and I thank God that this time of waiting can be filled with the shared work of peacebuilding here and now.

If you are interested in the exhibition, here is the website:
http://pichamtaani.com/home

Baskets of Grace

After rafting last weekend in Uganda, my friend Josh and I planned to stop in Kisumu on the return trip and spend sometime with our dear friend Anselm at his ancestral home. This is where he grew up and went to school; it is where his mother, sister, and niece still live. Because of some bus complications, our planned arrival at 10 pm Sunday night was delayed until 6:00 am Monday morning (loooong story). When we finally reached Kisumu around sunrise, Anselm met us in town, and we made the hour long journey to his home together. We walked up, up a ridge to his home where we were warmly greeted with smiles, embraces, and a beautiful mixture of languages. We had never met Anselm’s family, yet they embraced us as though we had always belonged with them. We were quickly welcomed in for a breakfast of roasted maize, bread, honey, sweet bananas, and tea. Everything had already been prepared for us by our hosts, and it was a delicious end to a long journey.
After breakfast, Anselm showed us where we could sleep, but I chose to sit outside with him and his family instead. The sun was warm, and we sat in the grass as his mother wove a basket nearby. The late morning brought with it a brief thunderstorm, so we gathered inside and listened to the sounds of the rain. For lunch, we had ugali and sukumawiki (my favorite Kenyan meal) and washed the dishes out in the front yard.
In the afternoon, we visited nearby relatives (uncles, aunts, and cousins) and were warmly welcomed into each home. Later, we climbed to the top of the highest ridge, looked out over the entire valley, and glimpsed Lake Victoria in the distance. When we returned from our hike, it was nearly time to head to Nairobi, but Mama Anselm insisted that we take supper first. She had already prepared a dinner of chicken stew and rice, which we happily ate. As we then stood to leave, she presented us with the beautiful basket that she had woven earlier in the day and proceeded to fill it with fresh pineapples, sweet bananas, and ground nuts to sustain us on the rest of our journey. She then said a prayer over us in Luo, and though I could not understand her words, I felt both embraced and protected by her care. I said thank you many times, but it hardly felt like an adequate response.
Throughout the day, I wondered: What have I done nothing to deserve such gracious hospitality, how can I accept it? There have been times in my life when grace seemed an abstract concept, yet at Mama Anselm’s, it became a tangible reality: Grace is a warm welcome; it is hospitality; it is woven baskets and fresh pineapple and roasted maize. Grace is walking up a mountain in the sunlight; it is a prayer for protection spoken over us. Grace is a Table that is already prepared at the end of a long journey. I am thankful for the reality of Divine grace felt in the embrace of Mama Anselm.

Rafting the Nile

This past weekend, I could not spend Thanksgiving with my family in South Carolina, so I decided to do something equally exciting: whitewater rafting at the source of the Nile River! It was a day full of laughter, excitement, and moments that felt completely surreal… I kept looking around and could hardly believe that I was whitewater rafting... on the Nile! We managed to avoid the dangers of the infamous Nile hippos and crocodiles, but we didn’t fare quite so well on the grade 5 rapids. Our boat flipped on 3 out of 4 of them, so everyone spent a lot of time swimming through the rapids (except for our guide who suspiciously managed to stay on top of the boat laughing at us most of the time). We spent almost all day on the river, and ended the festivities with a sunset barbeque back at the campground. It was a great time of fun and fellowship, and definitely worth the thirteen hour bus ride from Nairobi to Jinja, Uganda!

**Photos are courtesy of Josh and his waterproof camera.

November Update

Greetings to you all! I have been back in Kenya for a little more than two months now. My time here has felt both strange and familiar, as I have gotten reacquainted with the sights, sounds, smells, foods, and customs of this place. I have joyfully partaken in eating ugali, fresh mangoes, and nyama choma again, patiently (most of the time) relearned the techniques for hand-washing my clothes in a soap-filled bucket, and laughingly attempted to join those around me dancing in worship.
The past two months have begun a busy and Spirit-filled journey, and I have been blessed by amazing people and opportunities: I have preached my first sermon, participated in a wedding, led worship at the All Africa Council of Churches, helped baptize 17 babies (in one service), visited schools and hospitals, and taken countless cups of chai. Whenever I think that I should be in a hurry to get somewhere or do something, I am reminded to sit down and take some tea first. This past Sunday morning, I arrived at church ready to preach in the English worship service, but I needed to print out my sermon notes. I found the pastor, and after exchanging greetings, he asked if I had taken breakfast. “Well, kind of, but I can eat something later.” I responded. “Sit down and take some tea, then we will go,” he said. There was no arguing with him, so I sat down, and by the time we had finished our tea, worship was beginning. I took a deep breath, and we made our way to the sanctuary. The sermon was probably better without the notes anyway.
A large part of my calling and service here involves taking the time to listen to the voices of the people I encounter, it means letting myself be shaped and challenged by perspectives and experiences different than my own. One particular moment that I would like to share with you all occurred during an Elder Training workshop in Kiambu parish. The pastor was giving a presentation on Presbyterian polity and the reasons that we have elders who lead the church. He explained to the new session members, “If you want to go fast, you go alone. If you want to go far, we go together.” I have thought back to this statement many times when I sit and take tea, when I spend half an afternoon waiting for someone, when worship services last well beyond three hours because so many people are given a chance to speak, sing, or pray. We go together. It is a belief embodied by both the church and community: we eat together; we take tea together; we pray together; sometimes we move at a frustratingly slow pace, but we move together. We take the time to listen and connect with one another because we need each other. We discern the way forward together, because the Wisdom of the gathered community is greater than that of any one individual. The Spirit lives and moves among us when we gather together as one body.

As I continue to learn, grow, and serve here, I am thankful for all of the support, encouragement, cards, emails, and prayers that I have received from you. It is a gift to be a part of such a loving community. Have a wonderful and restful Thanksgiving holiday!

Grace and peace,
Lauren

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.