Kenya Post 2

Since my last post in Kenya, so much has happened!

For one, I moved in with Mama Rose in a wonderful home in a neighborhood called Woodley.  I’m so blessed to live with an on-fire believer as my host-mom!  A safe little neighborhood and a wonderful house.  Right outside my window I can see the Kibera slums.  Even still, it is so beautiful here. 

I really got to dwell in the natural beautiful of East Africa when I went to Hell’s Gate last weekend with my entire study abroad crew!  I loved the rush of climbing and crossing paths with animals I would normally see in the zoo.  We scaled cliffs, climbed over dangerous caverns, rendezvoused with giraffes and zebras, ate lunch with baboons, and were guided by a 22-year old Massai warrior.  The balance of terrifying rock formations and serene grasslands worked in tandem to display the beauty that is Africa – God’s masterpiece.

Throughout the program, we also see some not so pretty things that are equally as impacting.  We’ve taken three site visits to the various slums and informal markets.  In the slums, waste literally lines the streets.  In fact, there are man-made mountains of bottles, used toilet paper, boxes, electronics, etc.  You can often see small children running through the garbage to try and find some recyclable goods to sell.  Walking through Kibera Slums or Mathare Slums is not for the weak.  You pass through corridors of stenches and numerous dangerous trappings (I almost stepped on a litter of kittens!).  All the while, you know most of these people have no work and very little food, but family and God gives them hope for the future.  In the informal markets, we see the result of an unreliable job market with hundreds and thousands of people selling used goods for cheap prices.  I live in the middle of what is famously called the “Toy Market” where designer shoes are sold for 200 shillings (about $2.15) and random odds and ends go for a couple dozen shillings.  

Every week we go to 3 or 4 site visits, touring NGOs (non-governmental organizations), non-profits, and other community-oriented programs that seek to alleviate many of the problems in Kenya – poverty, HIV, street kids, etc.  My favorite site visit was an HIV/AIDS focused NGO that has been successful at managing HIV for the underprivileged all throughout Kenya.  It was started by HIV positive women from the country who came together in order to empower themselves and others in the midst of stigma and prejudice toward AIDS victims.  The organization is called WOFAK (Women Fighting AIDS in Kenya).  They do so much, I don’t know where to begin.  We heard a lecture from Hellen, the branch director.  I had the honorable pleasure of being paired with her on the home patient visits. 

Some HIV victims, especially the ones that catch TB (Tuberculosis), end up extremely extremely sick and can’t leave home.  Proper nutrition is the first thing to go in such conditions, which causes the drugs to have adverse effects.  The drug treatment becomes so painful with lack of food that most end up quitting.  With TB, this is a no-go.  If you quit your TB drugs before time, you will end up resistant to that drug.  Do this a few more times, and you’ll end up with the most lethal strain of TB, MDR (Multi-drug resistant).  MDR is almost untreatable.  Especially for a poor Kenyan.  The only option left with MDR is a highly expensive drug treatment that can cost upwards of $10,000.  And if you cough on someone in your household, they will immediately get that MDR strain too.  (Most of this is my prior knowledge from reading a book about the champion of MDR/HIV treatment for the poor, Paul Farmer, called Mountains Beyond Mountains- my most recommended read besides the Bible)

Happily, the young child we met on our home patient visit did not have MDR.  Unfortunately, she did have TB and the painful treatment prevented her from being able to walk to school.  She was 13 and she looked like she was 8.  I got to ask her some questions in Swahili about what she likes.  I mean, it’s a little girl.  It feels wrong to probe her about her actual condition, so I refrained.  Hellen, two other students, and I handed the girl’s aunt a bag full of food supplies that would last them for maybe 2-3 weeks.  The aunt, a mother to 4 orphaned nieces and nephews (including the young HIV-TB girl), was extremely grateful.  Hearing about all the kids she takes care of, all with HIV, and that she still has a positive and friendly outlook on life was so beautiful.  As she walked us out of the slums, I told her in Swahili “Una roho mzuri”, my best attempt at saying she has a beautiful heart.  She seemed surprised and thankful all at the same time.  “Thank you” she said quietly.

Hellen, who is extremely inspirational and extremely beautiful, impressed me so much with her work, her pragmatism, her intellect, her passion, her drive, her efficiency, her EVERYTHING that I told her I would love to put together a grant proposal for her organization in my spare time.  Currently I am working on writing a proposal to reboot their home patient program where they brought food packages to these homebound patients.  Funding has ceased for this for the past few years and it has been detrimental.  She has been extremely helpful in the whole process; I barely have to think, just put the information into format.  Anything for this super lady.

Learning Kiswahili is also such a fun experience.  We are split into groups of three students and one “mwalimu” (teacher).  Learning is very visual and auditory.  Often we will play charades with our teacher trying to figure out what they are saying!  The best part of learning a new language in the country it is spoken most?  I can practice just be being here.  Whether I’m on the streets, in a store, or in the living room, native speakers are all around.  Sometimes, though, learning Swahili is pretty funny.  There are multiple instances where if you change one letter or sound ever-so-slightly, the word completely changes meaning…to the opposite even!  I’ve made so fun mistakes.  Here are some examples (pardon my French for one of them).

Kufikiri = to think     kufariki = to die

Niliona = I saw         nilioa = I got married

Kuimba = to sing      kuiba = to steal

Chuo = college          choo = toilet

Kunywa = to drink (a beverage)     kunya = to shit

There’s a funny SIT story from a past semester where a girl went to her rural homestay and kept asking her homestay parents, who didn’t speak English ONLY Swahili, “Ninataka kunya majee.”  (Which means I want to shit water).  She kept asking them and asking them that she wanted to drink water, and they would just laugh and laugh and point her to the toilet.  She eventually got sad and frustrated and asked Mwalimu Anne why this kept happening.  “Why are they making me drink toilet water, Anne?”  Anne asked her what she was saying.  When Anne heard, she bust out laughing and quickly corrected her “kunya” to a “kunywa” which means “to drink”.  Now that girl will never forget her “w” again.  (And neither will I!)

My 2 main prayers since being in Kenya was that God would pair me with an accountability partner (a friend to grow in God with who is super real/honest with you) and that in some way I would be able to do the work of a missionary while here, reviving the save and saving the lost.  I can’t believe how God moves in such mysterious ways.  One simple act of obedience and I’m on a roller coaster ride of discipleship, ministry, intercession, and overcoming my fear of man.  I asked God for a co-laborer and accountability partner while here.  I asked and asked and after two weeks I got on my knees and pleaded “It is not good for man to be alone.”  God answered my prayers in the strangest way.  He told me to ask a girl on my trip who I knew was Christian. So I simply asked her if she wanted to grow in Christ with me, and be my accountability partner.  She said yes!  Amen!  And we both agreed to doing a weekly Bible study/prayer meeting during lunch.  So the next day, we trekked over to a Muslim restaurant called Aroma.  On the way, she described a dream she had of me and her.  I won’t give details, but it was extremely prophetic for both our lives and past hurts. We started by praying for each other by the time we got to Aroma.  Very powerfully we began to pray against the lies of the Enemy and felt freedom from God.  Then we just started preaching to each other in the most gentle, kind words.  We kept referring to Scripture to bring further encouragement to our hearts.  It was incredible.  Telling each other about God’s love and blessings.  In the very middle of this encouragement sesh, the most powerful thing happened.  A man in the middle of this Muslim café with my friend and I the only customers said “I’m sorry but I must interrupt.  Are you Christians?”  “Yes” we said and smiled.  He then asked us in the most sincere voice “You see, I’m a Christian too and I work here with all Muslims.  And I don’t have a Bible.  Could you get me a Bible?” … Me and my friend are like YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  YES you can have one sir.  We ask if we can pray for him later as well.  So before we pray for him, my friend and I casually sneak out to intercede/pray for him.  We start lifting him up and praying against any tactic of the Enemy.  Then we walk back in and start praying for him, saying “God loves you.  Jesus loves you!  He’s been pursuing you your whole life.” He began to get a little emotional (I love when that happens tehe).  Prayer requests number 1 and 2 were answered.  My friend and I gave the Bible to him yesterday, and he couldn't have been more excited.  It's so amazing when God uses us to bless others! :)

This weekend we are all going over to Tanzania to escape any potential election violence (last election hundreds of thousands became displaced and 1300 were killed).  I’ve been watching the Kenyan presidential debates, getting really into rooting for my favorite candidates.  I hope and pray that an upright leader is elected.  And that peace is firm in Kenya.  So many peace rallies, repentance rallies, anti-tribalism rallies.  I believe all will be well.  But my program can’t take any chances.  So off to Tanzania I go!  I’ll be staying in Massailand for a period (very traditional, “tribal” community).  Then we go to Mombassa on the coast of Kenya and finally to a rural homestay in Shirashi.  When I get back, I’ll be preparing for the most exciting part of the entire program – my ISP (Independent Study Project).  I choose where to go, what to do, what to research.  I can’t wait! :)

Thank you Lord.  I pray in Jesus name that my experiences will bless others.  Let me not be selfish ever, but let your glory in my life affect others.  I pray you use me as your hands and feet in the coming days.  Amen.

KENYA Post 1

Hujambo!  Hello from Nairobi, Kenya.  I can’t imagine a place more beautiful.  The sky is clear blue, the sun is shining, and the altitude is high enough to give us a constant cool breeze bringing the temperature to an average of high 70s.  Living in the city is not exactly what you imagine when you think of Africa.  People wear suits, have jobs in tall buildings, and own cell phones.  Cars, matatus, and buses flood the streets.  But, tropical plants are everywhere.  Monkeys, large birds, and goats have free reign.  Farmers sell mangos, beets, sugar cane, and green oranges on the side of the road for a dozen or so Kenyan shillings.  Most of the flora I have already seen for years living in Florida.  Another surprise is that not everyone speaks fluent English which is what I assumed.  Rather, everyone speaks fluent Swahili and their tribal languages (Kuluo, Kumassai, etc.), while fluency in English ranges from only “Hey and How are you” to masterfully teaching it at the local university.

Day one, I arrived in Jomo Kenyatta International Airport (named for the first Kenyan president after independence from British colonization in 1963).  There, I met Jamal and Mama Mary – two of my program directors.  My program consists of 13 students and 4 program directors.  We all have been staying in a hostel this entire time, until we are ready enough to move into our designated homestays with Kenyan families in the city.  Until then, adjustment is quite the stretch!  For me, cold showers, different tasting food, an entirely new language, and mosquito nets are not uncomfortable.  I crave those kind of cross-cultural experiences.  Rather, the biggest stretch has been lacking the support system I had in DC and Tampa of fellow believers/Christians to fellowship with and encourage me.  I think when we go to new places by ourselves, we forget that our loved ones and friends aren’t going with us.  And we will be alone temporarily.  But I know that even without a church or an accountability partner or what have you, the Holy Spirit is my biggest teacher and Jesus is my best friend.  Always.  In this time of being stretched, I have seen that more than ever.  I constantly crave quiet time with God.  I’ll take my guitar and go sit under a tree and sing softly to him with a Bible in my lap.  I’ll look out at the stars at night and pray.  I’ll scribble notes on the bus of what I feel the Holy Spirit telling me even in the midst of others around me.  When I finally go to church on Sunday, I will be home.

The other huge adjustment has been not having a cell phone, and not having wireless Internet.  I have to sit in designated computer rooms/spaces just to send an email or check my Facebook, whereas in America I constantly had unlimited access to the internet/communication.  Tomorrow afternoon when I move in with my homestay mom, Mama Rose, I will finally get a cell phone as well as a wifi bar!

But the anticipation I have towards my increased communication is dwarfed in comparison to the excitement I have in simply becoming Mama Rose’s daughter.  When I walk through that door, I become part of her family, a life-giving family that will love me as their own.  According to my homestay directors and my very dear friend Liz who stayed there last semester, Mama Rose is one of the most compassionate of all the homestay parents and she has been praying for me for months knowing that I’d be in her home soon.  She is a very Spirit-filled woman who loves anything and everything Jesus and loves others with a big big heart.  She has two sons.  They are both away from home, one just got married and one is at the University of Nairobi.  But they will be my older brothers nevertheless, something I have been craving for as long as I can remember.  She will cook me traditional food from her tribal ancestry, as well as speak Swahili with me and take me to her church!   But more than anything, she will be my mama.  Tonight is my last night and my excitement has often brought me to tears and light-headedness!

I also have been choosing to devour everything I can experience and learn from in this beautiful nation.  My Swahili lessons are exciting and fun!  We sit in classes of 3-4 with a native speaking teacher.   We walk around the city and talk to natives as part of lessons too!  What I love about classes here has everything to do with the culture.  First, “Africa” time to me is not simply a slow pace of life.  It is a pace of life that recognizes what is truly important by taking time to invest in relationships and what is in front of you rather than meeting a deadline.   During classes, we take a break called “tea time” at 4 which consists of Kenyan brown tea, hot milk-water, sugar in the raw (but really actually raw…because this is a part of the world that grows sugarcane), and “drinking chocolate” if you want.  We sit around until everyone is satisfiably recuperated.  THEN we are ready to digest another mountain of information.  ALL SCHOOLS in America should do this.  I can’t learn when my brain starts shutting off and I’m bored/tired.  Tea time is a freaking MUST and I never realized it until I came to the country. 

 

Day two, I got to feed and pet giraffes at a local conservation center!  So much fun.

 Today, I walked to the local market and had the best fresh squeezed juice blend of my life - fresh avacado, beet root, mango, strawberry, and pineapple.  Then on the way back to the hostel, me and three other friends split a sugarcane in fourths.  It was only 20 shillings.  When we got back I saw MONKEYS in the back yard.  Forreals.  Monkeys.  Just casually eating the garbage.  Walking back to our rooms, one monkey RAN UP to me and just kind of looked at me in a semi-aggressive playful manner.  I WAS FLIPPING OUT.  Started screaming "HELP!  HELP!  I DON'T HAVE MY RABIES SHOT! HELP!"  The domestic servants watching me were laughing so hard they were ROLLING in the grass.  I just start yelling even louder while in a stand still with this monkey.  "I DO NOT HAVE MY RAAAAAABIIIIIEEEEEESSSSSS SHOT PEOPLE!"  As if these Swahili-speakers have any idea what I'm talking about.  They just laugh and laugh and I eventually laugh along with them once the stupid monkey runs away at my perceived aggression. 

The people here are incredible.  From the clerk at the store to the nun at my hostel's convent, from my compassionate and loving program director Odoch to the chef Patrick, from the guy who sold me sugarcane on the side of the road to my Swahili teacher Josephine, from my SIT family of fellow students/adventure-seekers to the other program directors Jamal and Mama Mary, I am seriously blessed.  

This is only adjustment period.  Can't wait for the real stuff to start.  Driving by some ragged-clothed Kenyans sleeping in the gutters feeling just as helpless as them because I'm staring at them unable to help, that's what drives me to keep learning Swahili and learn from the local people who have been working against poverty, injustice, crime, corruption, health epidemics, and ethnic tensions here for decades.  I didn't come to Kenya to fix Kenya.  I came so Kenya could fix me.  Fix my American pride of what I think people need without ever getting my hands and feet dirty and patiently learn about complicated issues, fix my cultural biases, fix my fears of things I am actually stronger than, and fix the apathy I didn't realize was there.  God bless Kenya and all its people. 

Kwaheri!

Katrina Doyle