I Am Not Harry Potter – Adjusting to the Ordinary
Hello there! Ever since I returned to the States about one month ago, I’ve been busy putting my life together. It’s been a wild ride of late nights and even later mornings, surfing jobs online speckled with informational interviews, watching movies and perusing books – the majority geared towards those of us in our mid-20’s, and just wondering what on earth am I doing, or should be doing.
It’s weird being back. I have a lot of pent-up frustration, and I don’t really know why. There’s certainly a lot of stress with moving and not having a job. It’s like I’m looking for some unique purpose for being here, and while that mindset may have worked as a missionary in Kenya, it only exacerbates the frustration of an unemployed college graduate.
I don’t really know what I want to do, and that’s the most frustrating thing about it. I’m not content to just sit around and enjoy my free time. I want to do something meaningful and worthwhile… I also want to make money and support myself.
In times of self-doubt, I watch movies and read books to identify with heroes. One such recently popular (an oxymoron?) hero is Harry Potter. His ‘exceptionalism’ sets him apart from his peers, yet also creates exceptions for him in the minds of others. Whatever Harry Potter does is OK precisely because he is Harry Potter. We see this time and time again, with characters such as James Bond 007, Jack Bauer (of TV series 24) and Sydney Bristow (of Alias).
I think this idea of ‘exceptionalism’ is a lie, a fantasy we often live vicariously through our heroes but rarely in our own lives. ‘Exceptionalism’ makes for great stories, drama and conflict, all a far cry from our perennial puttering of today. And if I begin to take exception to living as others do, of trying to be different and set myself apart in my own culture, I foment the flames of frustration as my fantasy world collides with reality.
Being in Africa was ‘enough,’ perhaps simply because there’s something special about being there to live for a year. Whenever I don’t know a song on the radio or who were the best sports teams last season, I can use the excuse, “Oh, well, I was in Africa.” People understand without really understanding.
But being in Charlotte is like a weak excuse, or should I say the easy choice, as I decide what it is I really want to do. There’s nothing special about being here, about driving a car, going grocery shopping, being white and middle-class – most people around me are (or at least appear to be) the same. Do any of us really know what we really want to do?
There’s a Buddhist saying, “Wherever you go there you are.” In other words, you determine your own happiness by meditating on your own state of mind, and praying through the thought-walls in order to feel the warm flowing softness of God’s love.
One of my goals in Kenya was, and is now, to build my character. To me, building character means becoming a more patient, knowledgeable and poised person. Yet character is shaped by the community around us, as the sociologist James Hunter notes in A Death of Character. We form and learn character in the society we were brought up in.
Emily recently came to Monroe, LA, with me to visit my grandparents and relatives. We had a fabulous time being hosted by the finest of Southern hospitality, and Em got a brief peek into my early upbringing. Just as Monroe and her people had an effect on my life, so do my surrounding circumstances build or break my character today.
Character building is the active pursuit of reconciling our souls with our circumstance; what’s happening inside our self with what’s going on outside. We must remain true to ourselves as well as what is true in the reality around us. To pursue this integrity, we must walk not simply by sight and with a growing sense of faith.
As long as we’re looking for exceptions, we will have trouble focusing on community. Let us look for commonality rather than ‘exceptionalism,’ seeking humility before pride.
October has arrived and I have a job working part-time with EQV Development doing site acquisition and zoning for cell phone towers. I took the job due to its flexibility and because I’d like to work in urban planning, in both the physical and political design of our communities to promote what they should be: a community of interacting persons.
I feel refocused in my graduate pursuit. I remain interested in development, from both the third and first world perspective. I would like to work with communities and churches here in conjunction and in context with communities in the developing world, working together in mutual partnership so that both sides benefit… and sacrifice to make this world a better place.
There is a hero of mine who had nothing exceptional about him. He lived as others lived, eating and drinking with the poorest of the poor. When he did do something extraordinary, like restoring sight to the blind or raising the dead, he told others not to make mention of his deed. I want to be more like this hero, this person, this Jesus.
So as I go about my day-to-day life, I trust God to give me the eyes to see and ears to hear the peaceful beauty of the ordinary.
Sunday, October 15
Sunday, October 8
Walking Together with Integrity
[This text has been taken from a sermon with the same title. I had been invited to preach at my grandmother's church, First Presbyterian, in Monroe, LA, and this is what I had to say. Scripture: Psalm 26, Hebrews 2:5-12]
The last time I read these words in Psalm 26 was during a devotion in late February. I was staying in a classy hotel in Uganda, relaxing after a day in the field. After taking a quick swim in the pool and surfing channels via satellite, I suddenly stopped to remember the days events. I had led a group of American visitors to a traditional African village, complete with mud huts and bare-naked babies, showing them how their money as donors and fundraisers had gone to improve the lives of these communities. Yet sitting here in on my bed in the hotel room, I felt a world away.
Where was I? Today I had been in a place where the closest water source was miles away. This evening I was in a place with so much water I could dance in gallons of it. I had been in a place where children’s infectious stomachs bulged and hunger dulled curious minds. Tonight I was surrounded by kids laughing and throwing French fries at one another. The women THERE stooped under the weight of wood and water. The women HERE had porters to carry their bags. Where was I?
I knew that in this world there were dissimilarities. I knew that in this world people lived differently from one another, that there was disparity. I knew when I returned to the U.S. most people would have cars, be employed and send their kids to school. Not so for most here in Africa. Yet I wasn’t ready to see these two worlds within one country, let alone one day. Where was I?
If I were going to walk with integrity with these people, both African and American, I needed to be truthful to who I was as well as where I was. So where was I?
To start from the beginning, I was in Nairobi, Kenya, near the Horn of Africa on the Eastern side of the continent, serving for one year as a PC(USA) Young Adult Volunteer. I came over to Kenya with six other volunteers, from a group of about 50 spread over ten countries. Hundreds of churches throughout the US, including First Presbyterian of Monroe, support and send out these volunteers each year.
I worked in cooperation with Church World Service, a faith-based, non-profit American organization working in community development throughout the world. My job was to visit various community projects using funds to build a dam, drill a borehole, teach HIV/AIDS awareness, improve agricultural techniques, ETC. There I would interview family members before returning to the office to write a story incorporating their wtory with the larger community project.
My life was full of COMBINING contrasts. In Sudan, I took notes on a computer while the participants of a peace seminar took notes with pens and paper… that we had provided. In Tanzania, I flew over islands of fisherman using wooden boats to eek out a living. In Kenya, I would lug a water bottle to a site only to meet a woman who had carried a 5 gallon jug 10 kilometers to cook for her family that day. In Uganda, I would take visitors into an African village only to relax in a hotel in the evening. At every turn and in every place, my integrity was put to the test.
In the Psalm we read today, David exhorts God, shouting, “Prove me, O Lord, and try me; test my heart and my mind.” David is determined for God to test his heart and thus prove the integrity of his faith. And so am I determined to match what I saw with my mind with movement in my heart. Oswald Chambers wrote, “I must reduce myself until I am a mere conscious man.” Notice he did not say a more conscious but a mere conscious person.
I wonder: Have we ever asked God to test our integrity? Do we match what’s on our hearts with what’s on our minds, and with what’s on our minds with what’s on our plates. In other words, having integrity means matching one’s faith with one’s actions.
God so loved us that he gave the world over to our care. So testifies the Psalmist as quoted by Paul in Hebrews:
“What are human beings that you are mindful of them,
Or mortals, that you care for them?”
Matthew Henry states that a Christian “walk in his [or her] integrity, yet trusting wholly in the grace of God.”
In Hebrews verse ten, we see God’s love “bringing many children to glory” under one parent, Abba. And For this reason Jesus is not ashamed, yet in fact delights, in calling US his brother and sisters, saying, ‘I will proclaim your name in the midst of the congregation, I will praise you.’ “
So who, and not what, are you praising today? Who are you proclaiming in front of everyone? Perhaps it’s your mother, father, son or daughter. Perhaps it’s someone living or someone no longer with us. Whoever this person is, however, is someone you know, with whom you have a relationship. Only by knowing someone can we truly walk with them in integrity.
So how was I doing? I’d written some stories on the good work being done by our partners with Church World Service. With the help of some friends back home, I had sponsored a few Kenyans in getting further education. I even donated some books to a local vocational school for AIDS Children in Uganda.
Yet now that I have returned from Africa, I don’t remember the places or things I did as much as I remember the people I met. I remember Oliver, a security guard at my apartment, who is also 24 years old. He had moved to the city after his parents died of AIDS, and now lives in the slums and commutes by walking 5 miles each day for a 12-hour shift to support his two younger brothers. I remember Sam, a colleague and close friend of mine who showed me how to turn the yearnings of my heart into thoughtful and worthwhile proposals to help the entire community. I remember Joyce, whose smile always brightened my day and whose warmth reminded me of god’s love here in Kenya even as I missed my family and friends back home.
And that’s the beauty of relationships: they don’t break down into an expense sheet or payroll. A name brings up memories of special moments, not simply a name to whom a check should be written. Relationships are more about what is unseen than what is seen. And after all, we live and walk by faith, not by sight.
When I was younger I read Dale Carnegie’s “How to Win Friends and Influence People.” The book is quite interesting in getting people to do what you want, but true friendships are always a blessing from God. We don’t have control over who specifically becomes our friend or our foe. However, we can choose with whom we spend our time.
How are you spending your time? And with WHOM are you spending time? Is it in personal connections or with personal computers? Are most of your friends like-minded on “the issues” or well-minded of others’ concerns? Are we giving of our time as well as our talents?
One thing I’ll never forget about Africa is the walking. Once we were in the community, we walked side-by-side with our partners and community members to see the good work they had strived to accomplish. I remember we were standing outside one household, listening to the project coordinator Grace, a Ugandan, explain how this family was benefiting from a goat-rearing program. Another woman hobbled over, an infection swelling her foot and causing her to stumble. Her husband had died of AIDS, but not before infecting her and leaving her two children. Now with this foot infection she was not able to go to the market to sell her vegetables, and she could not afford surgery. Her name was Mercy. Lord, have Mercy.
Where is the Mercy in your life? Where is the Grace?
Not all of us can go to Africa, but there is a Grace and a Mercy here today. Next week I’ll be walking 5 kilometers in a Crop Walk, helping to raise funds for precisely those people I walked with less than a year ago. In our culture, we’ve lost the art of walking. If I took a quick poll, I would guess 9 out of 10 of you drove in a car to get here, myself included. Yet it’s those who are unable to drive, the elderly and the youth, the poor and the downtrodden, that we should be reaching out to so “they” becomes “we.” So let us get out of cars, out of our fast-paced lives and perhaps errant errands, and find someone to walk with. And may we do so with integrity, getting to know the other person just as God already knows both of us.
Before Christ suffered for all of us, he had dinner with the least of us. He celebrated with the filthy, drank with the intolerable and healed the disease-ridden. And he called them by name: Lazarus, Matthew, Margaret, Zacchaeus, and many others.
This morning, God is calling your name. Won’t you have a relationship with him? Won’t you have a relationship with his children?
PRAYER:
Lord, help us to be grateful in the good times, and grace-FULL in the bad ones. We live by Your Mercy as well as Your Grace. May we share these gifts with others through the challenge of friendship, knowing we are able to love others because you first loved us.
The last time I read these words in Psalm 26 was during a devotion in late February. I was staying in a classy hotel in Uganda, relaxing after a day in the field. After taking a quick swim in the pool and surfing channels via satellite, I suddenly stopped to remember the days events. I had led a group of American visitors to a traditional African village, complete with mud huts and bare-naked babies, showing them how their money as donors and fundraisers had gone to improve the lives of these communities. Yet sitting here in on my bed in the hotel room, I felt a world away.
Where was I? Today I had been in a place where the closest water source was miles away. This evening I was in a place with so much water I could dance in gallons of it. I had been in a place where children’s infectious stomachs bulged and hunger dulled curious minds. Tonight I was surrounded by kids laughing and throwing French fries at one another. The women THERE stooped under the weight of wood and water. The women HERE had porters to carry their bags. Where was I?
I knew that in this world there were dissimilarities. I knew that in this world people lived differently from one another, that there was disparity. I knew when I returned to the U.S. most people would have cars, be employed and send their kids to school. Not so for most here in Africa. Yet I wasn’t ready to see these two worlds within one country, let alone one day. Where was I?
If I were going to walk with integrity with these people, both African and American, I needed to be truthful to who I was as well as where I was. So where was I?
To start from the beginning, I was in Nairobi, Kenya, near the Horn of Africa on the Eastern side of the continent, serving for one year as a PC(USA) Young Adult Volunteer. I came over to Kenya with six other volunteers, from a group of about 50 spread over ten countries. Hundreds of churches throughout the US, including First Presbyterian of Monroe, support and send out these volunteers each year.
I worked in cooperation with Church World Service, a faith-based, non-profit American organization working in community development throughout the world. My job was to visit various community projects using funds to build a dam, drill a borehole, teach HIV/AIDS awareness, improve agricultural techniques, ETC. There I would interview family members before returning to the office to write a story incorporating their wtory with the larger community project.
My life was full of COMBINING contrasts. In Sudan, I took notes on a computer while the participants of a peace seminar took notes with pens and paper… that we had provided. In Tanzania, I flew over islands of fisherman using wooden boats to eek out a living. In Kenya, I would lug a water bottle to a site only to meet a woman who had carried a 5 gallon jug 10 kilometers to cook for her family that day. In Uganda, I would take visitors into an African village only to relax in a hotel in the evening. At every turn and in every place, my integrity was put to the test.
In the Psalm we read today, David exhorts God, shouting, “Prove me, O Lord, and try me; test my heart and my mind.” David is determined for God to test his heart and thus prove the integrity of his faith. And so am I determined to match what I saw with my mind with movement in my heart. Oswald Chambers wrote, “I must reduce myself until I am a mere conscious man.” Notice he did not say a more conscious but a mere conscious person.
I wonder: Have we ever asked God to test our integrity? Do we match what’s on our hearts with what’s on our minds, and with what’s on our minds with what’s on our plates. In other words, having integrity means matching one’s faith with one’s actions.
God so loved us that he gave the world over to our care. So testifies the Psalmist as quoted by Paul in Hebrews:
“What are human beings that you are mindful of them,
Or mortals, that you care for them?”
Matthew Henry states that a Christian “walk in his [or her] integrity, yet trusting wholly in the grace of God.”
In Hebrews verse ten, we see God’s love “bringing many children to glory” under one parent, Abba. And For this reason Jesus is not ashamed, yet in fact delights, in calling US his brother and sisters, saying, ‘I will proclaim your name in the midst of the congregation, I will praise you.’ “
So who, and not what, are you praising today? Who are you proclaiming in front of everyone? Perhaps it’s your mother, father, son or daughter. Perhaps it’s someone living or someone no longer with us. Whoever this person is, however, is someone you know, with whom you have a relationship. Only by knowing someone can we truly walk with them in integrity.
So how was I doing? I’d written some stories on the good work being done by our partners with Church World Service. With the help of some friends back home, I had sponsored a few Kenyans in getting further education. I even donated some books to a local vocational school for AIDS Children in Uganda.
Yet now that I have returned from Africa, I don’t remember the places or things I did as much as I remember the people I met. I remember Oliver, a security guard at my apartment, who is also 24 years old. He had moved to the city after his parents died of AIDS, and now lives in the slums and commutes by walking 5 miles each day for a 12-hour shift to support his two younger brothers. I remember Sam, a colleague and close friend of mine who showed me how to turn the yearnings of my heart into thoughtful and worthwhile proposals to help the entire community. I remember Joyce, whose smile always brightened my day and whose warmth reminded me of god’s love here in Kenya even as I missed my family and friends back home.
And that’s the beauty of relationships: they don’t break down into an expense sheet or payroll. A name brings up memories of special moments, not simply a name to whom a check should be written. Relationships are more about what is unseen than what is seen. And after all, we live and walk by faith, not by sight.
When I was younger I read Dale Carnegie’s “How to Win Friends and Influence People.” The book is quite interesting in getting people to do what you want, but true friendships are always a blessing from God. We don’t have control over who specifically becomes our friend or our foe. However, we can choose with whom we spend our time.
How are you spending your time? And with WHOM are you spending time? Is it in personal connections or with personal computers? Are most of your friends like-minded on “the issues” or well-minded of others’ concerns? Are we giving of our time as well as our talents?
One thing I’ll never forget about Africa is the walking. Once we were in the community, we walked side-by-side with our partners and community members to see the good work they had strived to accomplish. I remember we were standing outside one household, listening to the project coordinator Grace, a Ugandan, explain how this family was benefiting from a goat-rearing program. Another woman hobbled over, an infection swelling her foot and causing her to stumble. Her husband had died of AIDS, but not before infecting her and leaving her two children. Now with this foot infection she was not able to go to the market to sell her vegetables, and she could not afford surgery. Her name was Mercy. Lord, have Mercy.
Where is the Mercy in your life? Where is the Grace?
Not all of us can go to Africa, but there is a Grace and a Mercy here today. Next week I’ll be walking 5 kilometers in a Crop Walk, helping to raise funds for precisely those people I walked with less than a year ago. In our culture, we’ve lost the art of walking. If I took a quick poll, I would guess 9 out of 10 of you drove in a car to get here, myself included. Yet it’s those who are unable to drive, the elderly and the youth, the poor and the downtrodden, that we should be reaching out to so “they” becomes “we.” So let us get out of cars, out of our fast-paced lives and perhaps errant errands, and find someone to walk with. And may we do so with integrity, getting to know the other person just as God already knows both of us.
Before Christ suffered for all of us, he had dinner with the least of us. He celebrated with the filthy, drank with the intolerable and healed the disease-ridden. And he called them by name: Lazarus, Matthew, Margaret, Zacchaeus, and many others.
This morning, God is calling your name. Won’t you have a relationship with him? Won’t you have a relationship with his children?
PRAYER:
Lord, help us to be grateful in the good times, and grace-FULL in the bad ones. We live by Your Mercy as well as Your Grace. May we share these gifts with others through the challenge of friendship, knowing we are able to love others because you first loved us.
Monday, October 2
A month in, a month out
It's been a month at home in Delware and now a month on my own in Charlotte, NC, since I returned from Kenya July 27th. I spent August getting my life together: purchasing a 2003 Toyota Matrix, securing a lease for a house in Charlotte and packing out, packing in for the move down South. Then in September I jumped into the hardly-wonderful world of job-hunting, with a little soul-searching mixed in.
Now it's October, and tomorrow I begin a part-time job with EQV Development, a company that builds cellphone towers. Here's a link to an article about a guy who does what I do, minus the high-wires. I'm hoping the job gives me a good taste of what working in city planning would involve, and if I want to combine my M.Div with some studies in urban development.
It's been a tough month (Sept.), fluctuating from just getting a job to pay the bills (like waiting tables) to really searching for something that might interest me further down the road. Thankfully, I have very supportive friends and family, as well as the finances to spend a month looking around for something that interests me. At times I felt I was a stubborn college-educated American, refusing to work for less than $10/hr. At others I felt I wasn't fully following God's call to do more with my education from Davidon and experience in Africa.
In the midst of these life struggles, I've enjoyed time with friends whom I haven't seen in over a year. I have especially enjoyed living closer to Emily, and our relationship deepens by the day.
In the depths of woe God's graces abound. May it be also with you.
Now it's October, and tomorrow I begin a part-time job with EQV Development, a company that builds cellphone towers. Here's a link to an article about a guy who does what I do, minus the high-wires. I'm hoping the job gives me a good taste of what working in city planning would involve, and if I want to combine my M.Div with some studies in urban development.
It's been a tough month (Sept.), fluctuating from just getting a job to pay the bills (like waiting tables) to really searching for something that might interest me further down the road. Thankfully, I have very supportive friends and family, as well as the finances to spend a month looking around for something that interests me. At times I felt I was a stubborn college-educated American, refusing to work for less than $10/hr. At others I felt I wasn't fully following God's call to do more with my education from Davidon and experience in Africa.
In the midst of these life struggles, I've enjoyed time with friends whom I haven't seen in over a year. I have especially enjoyed living closer to Emily, and our relationship deepens by the day.
In the depths of woe God's graces abound. May it be also with you.
Sunday, July 30
Back Home Soaking
I've arrived safe 'n' sound back home. It's good to be back. (So far) the transition has been as smooth as American roads, without the bumps, hic-ups or swerves I habitually endured in Kenya, and had come to expect on my return home. I'm sure more thoughts will come, from the profound down to the absurd, and yet I'm content to just go through the motions (for now).
The only thing that's weirded me out is how late it gets here! At the equator, sunrise and sunset change very minimally throughout the year, making a watch quite unnecessary. With days so exorbitantly long, I'm finding rest all the more satisfying.
I've been asked the usual questions, like, "How was it?" "Are you glad to be back?" "Where were you?" "What will you do now?" along with the one-word response to my answers, "Wow." "Geez" "Incredible." "Huh.". So far I and they both have had incredible patience with each other. I think as time passes the memories will soak deeper into my life-sponge, and it will only take a small poke for me to 'leak out' a few tears and words from experience passed yet still present.
For now, I'm soaking in the little things: It's good to have dinner with my family. It's assuring to hold Emily in my arms. It's fun to laugh with an old friend, Andrew. It's wonderful to drive. It's delightful to eat cool food in the summer heat.
Time will tell more of the mystery still hidden.
The only thing that's weirded me out is how late it gets here! At the equator, sunrise and sunset change very minimally throughout the year, making a watch quite unnecessary. With days so exorbitantly long, I'm finding rest all the more satisfying.
I've been asked the usual questions, like, "How was it?" "Are you glad to be back?" "Where were you?" "What will you do now?" along with the one-word response to my answers, "Wow." "Geez" "Incredible." "Huh.". So far I and they both have had incredible patience with each other. I think as time passes the memories will soak deeper into my life-sponge, and it will only take a small poke for me to 'leak out' a few tears and words from experience passed yet still present.
For now, I'm soaking in the little things: It's good to have dinner with my family. It's assuring to hold Emily in my arms. It's fun to laugh with an old friend, Andrew. It's wonderful to drive. It's delightful to eat cool food in the summer heat.
Time will tell more of the mystery still hidden.
Thursday, July 20
A Damnned Shame
This year has been a monumental learning experience, and sometimes I must stress "experience" over the "learning" aspects. I do not understand most of what I see here, from a boy herding pigs through trash-filled streets to government ministers zipping through town in their chic SUVs. I cannot explain it fully, and sometimes as a reporter of sorts, I feel I can only point the camera and click. A picture tells a thousand words, few of which can actually be articulated.
I write this as I see the images of the conflict in Lebanon go on and on, growing worse and worse. I can sympathize and strangely admire the reporters there. As our president nobly uses his FIRST VETO EVER against stem-cell research, presumably in an effort to save the lives of embryos, he is turning around to allow (if not encourage) Israel to 'finish its work' destroying Hezbollah, and with it hundreds of Lebanese lives.
Utter Annihilation (Source: BBC)
Are we as a nation saying an American embryo is more valuable than a Lebanese citizen? What rights are inherent to "us" and not "them"?
It is time we have a consistent ethic that values ALL human life. There is an overwhelming since of powerlessness as I view these images. Yet we are human, too. We have voices. And it's time we spoke up for the voiceless.
I write this as I see the images of the conflict in Lebanon go on and on, growing worse and worse. I can sympathize and strangely admire the reporters there. As our president nobly uses his FIRST VETO EVER against stem-cell research, presumably in an effort to save the lives of embryos, he is turning around to allow (if not encourage) Israel to 'finish its work' destroying Hezbollah, and with it hundreds of Lebanese lives.
Are we as a nation saying an American embryo is more valuable than a Lebanese citizen? What rights are inherent to "us" and not "them"?
It is time we have a consistent ethic that values ALL human life. There is an overwhelming since of powerlessness as I view these images. Yet we are human, too. We have voices. And it's time we spoke up for the voiceless.
Saturday, July 8
A Strong Role Model
Today I visited the Kipeto Community in Kajiado, about 55 km from Nairobi in Kajiado District. I was invited there by Maggdalene Esekei, a friend of Jane Cooper's who found this blog a while back and asked me to get in touch with her Maasai sister in Christ.
Maggy met Jane back in the US and has been trying to raise funds for a borehole back in her home community. The community struggles to find water after the rains leave in June and the dams dry up in October. Even using the exposed water of the dams is risky, posing health hazards like the recent malaria outbreak here which killed a mother and child.
My colleague Sam Mutua addresses the women
In meeting with the community, my colleague Sam and I listened to their stories of struggle and small success. Men own and take care of the cattle here, seen as the only source of wealth, leaving the rest of the work to the women (child-rearing, food, water, shelter, etc.) Compounding the problem is that the cattle are the only means of wealth generation, leaving the women entirely dependent on the men to buy anything, from medicine to school fees.
The women here are very skilled in beadwork and before we left presented us with some very nice gifts: a beaded belt and a runga, or beaded staff. Maggy and I have agreed to work together along with Jane to secure funds for a borehole. The women would like to use the borehole to grow vegetables and create a local center around the water in which to sell their vegetables and beadwork. With closer and cleaner water, these women and their families will have more time and resouces to generate income.Traditionally, the Maasai marry off their women at a young age (as early as 13) for anywhere from five to twenty cows. Returning as an educated woman, Maggy is a role model for her entire community, proving that a woman's education is a longterm yet profitable investment.
A sign of peace and hope
Friday, July 7
Feeding the Forgotten
An article I wrote for the PCEA and ACT.
“I have nothing so I leave everything to God,” laments Beatrice “Mbite” Mutisha, holding a bucket of her harvest this year: five ears of maize. Once a proud farmer of seven cows, 30 chickens and 40 goats, only two goats remain due to drought and disease. “If others could see our problems themselves, they would see that we are need and we don’t know what to do.”
While few have seen their predicament, many have heard. Presbyterians in the USA have contributed funds for emergency relief to Ukambani, about four hours from Nairobi, Kenya. The Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (PDA) channels money through Action by Churches Together (ACT) for this food relief. The Presbyterian Church of East Africa (PCEA) coordinates the distribution with the help of Norwegian Church Aid (NCA) and the local community administration.
Although nearby regions flourish with pineapples and rice, rains haven’t fallen here since 1999, creating a pocket of desert winter strangling any hope of respite. Laments Musito, the local agricultural officer, “The soils are very good. The only problem is water.” Women walk up to 20 km a day in search of water for the home.
“If the rains came, we wouldn’t need help,” says Damaris Nduku, in charge of over 25 dependents. Without water, the people are not able to sustain themselves and are losing hope. Gesturing to withered cornstalks, Damaris poignantly asks, “Why should I repair this grain store if my crops look like this?”
Since the vast majority of people are unemployed, many cut down firewood to sell, often burning it to make makaa (charcoal). This region produces 250,000 bags of charcoal each month, the most of any community in Kenya. Hauling 20 liters on her back, Elizabeth makes 5 km trip to town five times a day. By day’s end, she earns enough to barely feed her family of 25 a meal of maize.
The women are left to do most of the work, with many men having died from AIDS or going to the city for work. When Katunge’s grandmother passed on, she says she “lost all hope,” as her brothers left to find work and she bore a daughter out of wedlock. She is fortunate however, finding a job at a local hotel earning less than US $30 per month.
Lydia Komu bashes stones to sell as ballast when she’s not throwing at the stones protecting her crops of sorghum from the birds. Even so, she thanks the people who provided her the seed for this drought-resistant crop, praying for them daily.
Looking for more sustainable solutions, PCEA will purchase its own machine to drill community boreholes in the area later this year. There area few shallow wells now, but the salinity is too high for regular human consumption. The European Union is also digging a subsurface-dam to supply water for a local school, which then may sell to the community.
The local chief wrote a letter last month, praising the PCEA’s work in distributing food through the village committees and not discriminating based on religious affiliation. Says David of the PCEA projects department, simply put, “We must go the way the people want.” Working with all community stakeholders, the PCEA won’t leave anyone behind.
“I have nothing so I leave everything to God,” laments Beatrice “Mbite” Mutisha, holding a bucket of her harvest this year: five ears of maize. Once a proud farmer of seven cows, 30 chickens and 40 goats, only two goats remain due to drought and disease. “If others could see our problems themselves, they would see that we are need and we don’t know what to do.”
While few have seen their predicament, many have heard. Presbyterians in the USA have contributed funds for emergency relief to Ukambani, about four hours from Nairobi, Kenya. The Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (PDA) channels money through Action by Churches Together (ACT) for this food relief. The Presbyterian Church of East Africa (PCEA) coordinates the distribution with the help of Norwegian Church Aid (NCA) and the local community administration.
Although nearby regions flourish with pineapples and rice, rains haven’t fallen here since 1999, creating a pocket of desert winter strangling any hope of respite. Laments Musito, the local agricultural officer, “The soils are very good. The only problem is water.” Women walk up to 20 km a day in search of water for the home.
“If the rains came, we wouldn’t need help,” says Damaris Nduku, in charge of over 25 dependents. Without water, the people are not able to sustain themselves and are losing hope. Gesturing to withered cornstalks, Damaris poignantly asks, “Why should I repair this grain store if my crops look like this?”
Since the vast majority of people are unemployed, many cut down firewood to sell, often burning it to make makaa (charcoal). This region produces 250,000 bags of charcoal each month, the most of any community in Kenya. Hauling 20 liters on her back, Elizabeth makes 5 km trip to town five times a day. By day’s end, she earns enough to barely feed her family of 25 a meal of maize.
The women are left to do most of the work, with many men having died from AIDS or going to the city for work. When Katunge’s grandmother passed on, she says she “lost all hope,” as her brothers left to find work and she bore a daughter out of wedlock. She is fortunate however, finding a job at a local hotel earning less than US $30 per month.
Lydia Komu bashes stones to sell as ballast when she’s not throwing at the stones protecting her crops of sorghum from the birds. Even so, she thanks the people who provided her the seed for this drought-resistant crop, praying for them daily.
Looking for more sustainable solutions, PCEA will purchase its own machine to drill community boreholes in the area later this year. There area few shallow wells now, but the salinity is too high for regular human consumption. The European Union is also digging a subsurface-dam to supply water for a local school, which then may sell to the community.
The local chief wrote a letter last month, praising the PCEA’s work in distributing food through the village committees and not discriminating based on religious affiliation. Says David of the PCEA projects department, simply put, “We must go the way the people want.” Working with all community stakeholders, the PCEA won’t leave anyone behind.
Thursday, July 6
No Easy Way Out
Look at this guy - seems pretty innocent, right? Little does he know that within an hour he'll be in a Kenyan police station.It all started when I was in the back seat of a car, waiting for a colleague to run in and grab a video cassette. He'd left the engine running, and no sooner was he out of sight then two policemen emerged. After arguing with my other colleague in Swahili, we all piled into the car and headed off to the police station.
The entire way over the cop kept asking, "So what are you saying?" My colleague would respond, "What do you mean, what am I saying? How do I answer what I haven't been asked?" Apparently they were looking for a bribe, probably about 500 Kshs (US$7) each. Considering their salaries are no more than $150 per month, this is not an unusual request.
As my colleague refused by never acknowledging the offer, we found our way into the station. Seeing me, people turned to their neighbors and said something about me but all I caught was mzungu. It was the closest thing to celebrity I've experienced here in Kenya, sending a murmurring wave ahead of me.
Apparently in Kenya you have to post bail for a traffic offense. My colleague posted 5,000 Kshs (US$65) and scheduled his hearing for Monday. And the offense? "Double-parking." He was lucky, though, since another one of his friends was charged five times with, and I quote, "obstruction", "overlapping", "careless driving", "lack of courtesy", and to cap it all off: "driving in a manner likely to annoy".
My failed attempt to take an indiscrete photo inside the station
In the olden days, the rules weren't just funny but potentially deadly. One charge under the Moi Regime was "behaving in a manner likely to suggest ______ " and they'd just fill in the blank. And to even imagine that the President (remember: there's only one in Kenya- all other heads of organizations must use a different title) had been killed, you would be arrested and possibly tortured on charges of treason.
The court system is no longer as dangerous yet still no less cumbersome, with cases backlogged up to 10 years. A police officer's word is usually good enough for your conviction, making a bribe - er, out of court settlement - an attractive alternative. Going to court often demoralizes the accused, exhausting his or her time and resources.
Remarked my colleague: "Justice delayed is justice denied. And if you don't follow the process, you aren't given your rights."
Tuesday, July 4
Independence Day
Back in the US, my fellow Americans are celebrating the 4th of July, our Independence Day. I wanted to take a moment to reflect on today's significance.
First of all, what's in a day? The colonies voted on Declaration of Independence on the 2nd, not all signing it until the 4th. And if it weren't for French support, many historians argue that the American Revolution would have been another colony's devolution. Our stake in independence required our dependence on declarations of freedom and foreign assistance.
Yet haven't we forgotten this lesson, not only in the past with slavery and segregation, but also today in spreading democracy by force? We should be more diligent in standing up for our "freedom rights," especially when it comes to government secrecy and surveillance that chain our independence with falsified information. We find ourselves "going it alone" with the "coalition [or coercion?] of the willing" in Iraq. I pray we Americans remember that we are not the only ones with the right to self-determination.
Today's New York Times front page reveals how independence can be used: in Macedonia nationalist politics promote factionalist candidates, teenagers are discovering long-term effects of binge drinking, and yet another case of an American GI committing inexplicable atrocities in Iraq against her people.
I wonder if non-Americans, and specifically the Iraqi people, are celebrating our independence today? For many, our independence means their dependence, from the fading prisons of Gitmo to the current Doha round of World Trade talks. Patriotism will get us as far as our borders (of mind or nation I leave to you), but humbleness as God's people will take us further than we can ever imagine.
My point is not to lampoon my home country: I am proud of my country's determination to do good in this world, and even more so for her self-effacing nature to correct past and present mistakes. My point is this: We can use our freedom for ill or good will.
As the Apostle Paul warns,
12"Everything is permissible for me" — but not everything is beneficial. "Everything is permissible for me" — but I will not be mastered by anything... 14By his power God raised the Lord from the dead, and God will raise us also... 17She who unites herself with the Lord is one with God in spirit. (1 Cor 6)
Sisters and brothers, let us be united today across makeshift national borders and into oneness with Christ. The choices we make today will have ramifications for OUR tomorrow as well as the future God's children. Let us celebrate the freedom we all have to humbly submit to God in all that we do - a God for the people and by the people, of this nation and all creation.
To read more thoughts about today, I recommend this article.
First of all, what's in a day? The colonies voted on Declaration of Independence on the 2nd, not all signing it until the 4th. And if it weren't for French support, many historians argue that the American Revolution would have been another colony's devolution. Our stake in independence required our dependence on declarations of freedom and foreign assistance.
Yet haven't we forgotten this lesson, not only in the past with slavery and segregation, but also today in spreading democracy by force? We should be more diligent in standing up for our "freedom rights," especially when it comes to government secrecy and surveillance that chain our independence with falsified information. We find ourselves "going it alone" with the "coalition [or coercion?] of the willing" in Iraq. I pray we Americans remember that we are not the only ones with the right to self-determination.
Today's New York Times front page reveals how independence can be used: in Macedonia nationalist politics promote factionalist candidates, teenagers are discovering long-term effects of binge drinking, and yet another case of an American GI committing inexplicable atrocities in Iraq against her people.
I wonder if non-Americans, and specifically the Iraqi people, are celebrating our independence today? For many, our independence means their dependence, from the fading prisons of Gitmo to the current Doha round of World Trade talks. Patriotism will get us as far as our borders (of mind or nation I leave to you), but humbleness as God's people will take us further than we can ever imagine.
My point is not to lampoon my home country: I am proud of my country's determination to do good in this world, and even more so for her self-effacing nature to correct past and present mistakes. My point is this: We can use our freedom for ill or good will.
As the Apostle Paul warns,
12"Everything is permissible for me" — but not everything is beneficial. "Everything is permissible for me" — but I will not be mastered by anything... 14By his power God raised the Lord from the dead, and God will raise us also... 17She who unites herself with the Lord is one with God in spirit. (1 Cor 6)
Sisters and brothers, let us be united today across makeshift national borders and into oneness with Christ. The choices we make today will have ramifications for OUR tomorrow as well as the future God's children. Let us celebrate the freedom we all have to humbly submit to God in all that we do - a God for the people and by the people, of this nation and all creation.
To read more thoughts about today, I recommend this article.
Monday, July 3
Faith & Politics
Recently, I sped through God's Politics by Jim Wallis over our final retreat. Upon my return, Emily brought to my attention the Call to Renewal Conference held in DC last week. Barak Obama made a powerful speech to reignite an informed discussion on faith and politics, drawing both from the bible and international events. The ramifications will surely be interesting.
Here in Kenya, many politicians profess a believe in Christianity. Yet these same politicains often engage in public deceipt and mass corruption, eating like cancer in their follower's mind. Many Kenyans are either ashamed of these double-talking politicians or just laugh at the hypocrisy. This isn't to say there aren't any good politicians here. It just shows the danger of believing in the gospel and then working in government: there should be some sort of dynamic cohesion, rather than a private/public split, between the two.
I must say I was quite surprised to read that Bush uses the same daily devotional I use, Oswald Chamber's "My Utmost for His Highest." I think we come to vastly different conclusions each day, and this is exactly my point. An engaged, enlightened discussion of faith and politics brings both morality and practicality to the table, and our public policies need both.
I encourage all of us to re-engage in our faith and how it relates to politics as a form of action. Obama encourages us to go back to our bibles, to be informed internationally, and to make our choices accordingly. Let us humbly step into the discussion of faith and politics, knowing we have a relationship with God as well as God's people.
Here in Kenya, many politicians profess a believe in Christianity. Yet these same politicains often engage in public deceipt and mass corruption, eating like cancer in their follower's mind. Many Kenyans are either ashamed of these double-talking politicians or just laugh at the hypocrisy. This isn't to say there aren't any good politicians here. It just shows the danger of believing in the gospel and then working in government: there should be some sort of dynamic cohesion, rather than a private/public split, between the two.
I must say I was quite surprised to read that Bush uses the same daily devotional I use, Oswald Chamber's "My Utmost for His Highest." I think we come to vastly different conclusions each day, and this is exactly my point. An engaged, enlightened discussion of faith and politics brings both morality and practicality to the table, and our public policies need both.
I encourage all of us to re-engage in our faith and how it relates to politics as a form of action. Obama encourages us to go back to our bibles, to be informed internationally, and to make our choices accordingly. Let us humbly step into the discussion of faith and politics, knowing we have a relationship with God as well as God's people.
Saturday, July 1
Final Retreat Pictures
At the border of Tanzania and Kenya, where the Serenghetti meets the Masai Mara.
Will is bombed by the vultures.
Phyllis' "Happy 70th" Birthday, a prank from us YAVs
Wanna-be Masai During the "Cultural Exchange"
Friday, June 30
Thursday, June 29
Mara Wildlife
Wednesday, June 28
Final Retreat in the Mara
This week the other YAVs and I had our final retreat at Keekoroch Lodge in the Masai Mara. It was a relaxing time, as we caught up on our activities, read a few books, welcomed Phyllis back to Kenya after a four-month "missionary tour," and enjoyed the sights and sounds of the Mara wildlife. The lodge had a safari walk where there were plenty of monkeys and hippos to see. The monkeys even invaded the non-fenced camp and went into my room while I was taking a shower... when I emerged dripping wet and towel-girded, I found Andrea being chased around by a monkey. The two of us were able to reclaim our territory and kick the rest of them out. Apparently they wanted my watermelon but were unsuccessful. I think Andrea was somewhat traumatized by the whole episode, yet I still remain a die-hard monkey fan. Lemurs are still the best, though, but I'll have to visit Madagascar to see them in the wild.
Zebra at Sunrise
Hippo Yawn
Lions on the Lookout
Saturday, June 24
Amboseli Pictures
These pictures come from Brian and Katie on their trip to Amboseli (near the base of Kilimanjaro) with Brian's parents. I doctored them up a bit and here is the final product below. It doesn't look like I'll get to visit the park myself, so like you I'll just live vicariously through these images.
Friday, June 23
A Faithful Distribution
A story I wrote for CWS and ACT.
Mr. Kisu, an elder in the Kenya Evangelical Lutheran Church (KELC), beams a smile as he calls out another name. He is not the only one smiling. A woman rises, presenting her ID before stepping over to the stacks of flour packets. Three women, chosen by the community to distribute the relief food, hand the woman her family’s share.
This week villages across Ukambani district outside Machackos, Kenya, including 800 families today, will receive 24 kilos of corn flour through KELC with funds provided through Action by Churches Together (ACT) and Church World Service. The church targets the neediest families, including orphans, widows, the elderly and poor, regardless of religious affiliation, to ensure the most needy receive food until the rains return.
Pastor Chambi and two church committee members observe the distribution from a distance. With weekly offerings of US$15 or less, he cannot help many people who seek assistance but today is different. Seeing these food donations makes his robust arm movements more expansive, as he emphasizes, “It doesn’t help to just give them something, but to teach them how to use it.”
Originally from Tanzania, Rev. Chambi preaches a self-reliance and communal gospel, where those suffering individually come together to discuss their problems. As he explains, poverty is “bait” to get people thinking about real, long-term solutions. In preparing for the future, he has trained his members to build churches and store grain. By teaching them certain skills, the pastor empowers the people to be self-reliant and fight poverty. Declares Rev. Chambi, “I want to go somewhere, but I don’t want to arrive there alone.”
He watches as another single mother passes, stooping under her received unga (flour). A member of Salvation Army, Sarah Nzuki has five children and walked 3 km today to receive her rations. While the food is only enough for one week, she is happy and extremely grateful to have more time to spend on productive activities such as growing and selling mangoes.
Grace Mumo of KELC also passes by on her way to receive food. She and her daughter Dorcas live alone due to community stigmatization of their HIV positive status. In this area, AIDS is a badge of shame. In “a culture of secrets,” many people die alone with the disease, she says, and the community often tries to silence her when she speaks out. Grace finds support from an ecumenical group living with AIDS and continues to educate others about the disease.
Pastor Chambi with Mama Nzuki
Pastor Chambi is very pleased with distribution, managed in a “natural and relaxed manner with no haggling.” The pastor attributes this to self-selected distribution by women, church reverence, open accountability and specifically targeting the needy. With the food on open display, the community provides an excellent model for the church in working together. Today the church is a source of present and future hope, as the faithful distribute food to those in need.
Mr. Kisu, an elder in the Kenya Evangelical Lutheran Church (KELC), beams a smile as he calls out another name. He is not the only one smiling. A woman rises, presenting her ID before stepping over to the stacks of flour packets. Three women, chosen by the community to distribute the relief food, hand the woman her family’s share.This week villages across Ukambani district outside Machackos, Kenya, including 800 families today, will receive 24 kilos of corn flour through KELC with funds provided through Action by Churches Together (ACT) and Church World Service. The church targets the neediest families, including orphans, widows, the elderly and poor, regardless of religious affiliation, to ensure the most needy receive food until the rains return.
Pastor Chambi and two church committee members observe the distribution from a distance. With weekly offerings of US$15 or less, he cannot help many people who seek assistance but today is different. Seeing these food donations makes his robust arm movements more expansive, as he emphasizes, “It doesn’t help to just give them something, but to teach them how to use it.”Originally from Tanzania, Rev. Chambi preaches a self-reliance and communal gospel, where those suffering individually come together to discuss their problems. As he explains, poverty is “bait” to get people thinking about real, long-term solutions. In preparing for the future, he has trained his members to build churches and store grain. By teaching them certain skills, the pastor empowers the people to be self-reliant and fight poverty. Declares Rev. Chambi, “I want to go somewhere, but I don’t want to arrive there alone.”
He watches as another single mother passes, stooping under her received unga (flour). A member of Salvation Army, Sarah Nzuki has five children and walked 3 km today to receive her rations. While the food is only enough for one week, she is happy and extremely grateful to have more time to spend on productive activities such as growing and selling mangoes.Grace Mumo of KELC also passes by on her way to receive food. She and her daughter Dorcas live alone due to community stigmatization of their HIV positive status. In this area, AIDS is a badge of shame. In “a culture of secrets,” many people die alone with the disease, she says, and the community often tries to silence her when she speaks out. Grace finds support from an ecumenical group living with AIDS and continues to educate others about the disease.
Pastor Chambi with Mama Nzuki
Pastor Chambi is very pleased with distribution, managed in a “natural and relaxed manner with no haggling.” The pastor attributes this to self-selected distribution by women, church reverence, open accountability and specifically targeting the needy. With the food on open display, the community provides an excellent model for the church in working together. Today the church is a source of present and future hope, as the faithful distribute food to those in need.
Thursday, June 15
Sick, Finally!
Last night I finally had a dose of the fabled traveler’s diarrhea. I’m not sure how I got it, but luckily it passed after a few hours, although I still feel a bit weak and dehydrated.
I’d been waiting to get sick, frankly, as I the only time I’ve been sick this year is on the way back from Sudan… and that was due to motion sickness, where I passed out only to wake up with a good deal of food residue on my shirt.
Many others have gotten sick here, including my roommate (on 5 separate occasions), another volunteer who’s had at least 3 bouts with malaria, and another volunteer friend who must have been sick every other week since he arrived in January.
I like to think I have an iron-stomach. It’s good to know that we all have weaknesses, and I am thankful to be humbled once more.
I also like to think I’m a healthy individual. It’s also good to be reminded that without good health, no one can do much of anything.
I am blessed, to be sick and have recovered. May God bless us everyone.
I’d been waiting to get sick, frankly, as I the only time I’ve been sick this year is on the way back from Sudan… and that was due to motion sickness, where I passed out only to wake up with a good deal of food residue on my shirt.
Many others have gotten sick here, including my roommate (on 5 separate occasions), another volunteer who’s had at least 3 bouts with malaria, and another volunteer friend who must have been sick every other week since he arrived in January.
I like to think I have an iron-stomach. It’s good to know that we all have weaknesses, and I am thankful to be humbled once more.
I also like to think I’m a healthy individual. It’s also good to be reminded that without good health, no one can do much of anything.
I am blessed, to be sick and have recovered. May God bless us everyone.
Tuesday, June 13
Fade In, Fade Out... and Away
I’m not feeling myself, as if I were in a sleepy daze on a Saturday morning. I’m finding myself much more content to stay in and watch football than type up a blog entry. I’m more interested in finishing up watching Season Three of “24” than I am getting in touch with friends. At work, I find myself seeking the next international news story rather developing my own stories here at work.
What happened to my motivation? Did it leave with Emily two weeks ago? Am I content to just cruise through this last month and half? Am I so sluggish because of lack of inspiration, or hope, or just wanting the future now?
Lord, revive me! Revive my soul! Let me wallow not in pits of emptiness, but be filled by your grace and wisdom. Let me not fade out of compassion for those with me now, nor fade away from consciously engaging the experience before me.
What happened to my motivation? Did it leave with Emily two weeks ago? Am I content to just cruise through this last month and half? Am I so sluggish because of lack of inspiration, or hope, or just wanting the future now?
Lord, revive me! Revive my soul! Let me wallow not in pits of emptiness, but be filled by your grace and wisdom. Let me not fade out of compassion for those with me now, nor fade away from consciously engaging the experience before me.
Monday, June 12
African Child
The All-Africa Conference of Churches organized a radio discussion about the future of the African Child, organized by my roommate Will. I found the discussion to be quite informative and heart-wrenching at times, as the participants were very honest about the future, or rather plight, of the African Child.
From what I heard, one-third of African children are malnourished, and almost that many are subject to child labor. Nearly half of the world’s child-soldiers call Africa their home. At least 200,000 children are trafficked yearly through Africa.
The participants, who included a UNICEF program coordinator, a renowned Kenyan psychiatrist, a social worker and the AACC’s General Secretary, touched upon these issues and others. They discussed the ranges of child abuse, from paddling in school to sexual abuse in and out of the home, and ways society and the church can address these issues.
Some outcomes: Awareness is an essential step towards Action, and yet it is only the beginning step. It takes a community response to a community problem. If we don’t speak for the children, who will?
From what I heard, one-third of African children are malnourished, and almost that many are subject to child labor. Nearly half of the world’s child-soldiers call Africa their home. At least 200,000 children are trafficked yearly through Africa.
The participants, who included a UNICEF program coordinator, a renowned Kenyan psychiatrist, a social worker and the AACC’s General Secretary, touched upon these issues and others. They discussed the ranges of child abuse, from paddling in school to sexual abuse in and out of the home, and ways society and the church can address these issues.
Some outcomes: Awareness is an essential step towards Action, and yet it is only the beginning step. It takes a community response to a community problem. If we don’t speak for the children, who will?
Friday, June 9
World Cup Madness
For those of you in the US, the news of football might not have gone much further than previews of NFL training camps. Here in Kenya, there’s all kinds of hype with the beginning of the World Cup, and its one fever that has no remedy.
Men are going out to buy TVs they can ill-afford. Women are seeking counseling for spousal neglect. Students argue who is the best team (England or Brazil) and player (Rooney or Ronaldhino). While other nations are talked about, England, Brazil and perhaps the host country Germany are the only ones in contention for the title in Kenyan’s minds.
They will, of course, be rooting for one of the five African teams to qualify: Cote d’Ivoire, Angola, Tunisia, Togo and Ghana. None of the traditional African powerhouses made it this year (Senegal, Nigeria or Cameroon), so I’m interested to see if this is a changing of the guard.
My prediction: not a single win by an African team. And still I’ll be rooting for them. [Later turns out I'm wrong: Ghana stunned Czech. Rep. 2-0 June 17th.]
The team to watch: Ecuador. That’s right, folks, you heard it here. While I have some partiality to this small South American country, having lived/studied there for 4 months, they deserve to be rooted for. They’re the only team to have beaten both Brazil (1-0) and Argentina (2-0) during qualifying matches. People say they can only play in their 9,000-ft high city, Quito, but I think they have a shot of causing some chaos in their second World Cup Finals.
With 3 games daily, beginning at 4 PM and lasting until midnight, I won’t be surprised if Kenya’s overall GDP decreases during this period. I know my productive output will…
Men are going out to buy TVs they can ill-afford. Women are seeking counseling for spousal neglect. Students argue who is the best team (England or Brazil) and player (Rooney or Ronaldhino). While other nations are talked about, England, Brazil and perhaps the host country Germany are the only ones in contention for the title in Kenyan’s minds.
They will, of course, be rooting for one of the five African teams to qualify: Cote d’Ivoire, Angola, Tunisia, Togo and Ghana. None of the traditional African powerhouses made it this year (Senegal, Nigeria or Cameroon), so I’m interested to see if this is a changing of the guard.
My prediction: not a single win by an African team. And still I’ll be rooting for them. [Later turns out I'm wrong: Ghana stunned Czech. Rep. 2-0 June 17th.]
The team to watch: Ecuador. That’s right, folks, you heard it here. While I have some partiality to this small South American country, having lived/studied there for 4 months, they deserve to be rooted for. They’re the only team to have beaten both Brazil (1-0) and Argentina (2-0) during qualifying matches. People say they can only play in their 9,000-ft high city, Quito, but I think they have a shot of causing some chaos in their second World Cup Finals.
With 3 games daily, beginning at 4 PM and lasting until midnight, I won’t be surprised if Kenya’s overall GDP decreases during this period. I know my productive output will…
Wednesday, June 7
(Im)practical Education
It’s an all-too familiar case in Kenya: a promising student passes through free primary education, goes on to secondary (high school) through the support of relatives or donors, receives satisfactory marks that aren’t quite good enough for the university, and eventually finds themselves working as a house servant or estate guard in Nairobi. The bottom line: they could have saved a lot of money by forgoing secondary if this were going to be the end result.
In Kenya, there is an abundance of labor and not enough jobs, leading to massive unemployment and a majority of Nairobi citizens in slums and severe poverty. Where is the hope in education?
I remember writing a paper for IPE (International Political Economy) based on Education as the “Weapon for Mass Development” for the Global South. I argued that education would provide opportunities for people to find the jobs they sought, and create a common language between various industries without borders. If people were going to take advantage of technological and global market advances, they would need to be educated on how to make uses of these emerging opportunities.
Now that I’m here on the ground, away from the theoretical classroom, I see a different picture. As I pass by field after field of corn, I remember studying how the World Bank encouraged a focus on cash crops for export, even as the US continues to subsidize many of these crops, thus reducing world prices as US farmers flood the markets with their product. When I see a USAID box in a school’s kitchen, I know the full meaning of the imprinted tagline, “From the American People”: The US Government bought food from US farmers, shipped the food via US shipping companies, all of which was coordinated by US-based NGOs. There’s a reason the two hands on the logo are both white.
But does the average Kenyan know this or need to know this? If I found myself working in that corn field or that school kitchen, what would this knowledge possibly DO for me?
One’s education is only so good as one can use it to take advantage of a market-niche: First, there needs to be a market, and second, one needs to specially trained to take advantage of that market.
A secondary education is just too general: everyone has one. Yet many people are unable to afford higher education, and even if they do, they often end up leaving the country for higher wages and/or living standards (a.k.a. the arguable Brain Drain). Still the economy remains largely undeveloped, with huge potential for growth… but how?
Perhaps education should be more practical; for instance, vocational training in industries such as carpentry, tailoring or construction. In many of our micro-financing projects, CWS trains single-mothers in simple and specific skills so that they can make a living. In one of our programs that sponsors students, a high school graduate is out looking for work, whereas a trained-mechanic is now taking care of his mother. There is no overnight success, yet the small steps forward are lasting ones.
Development is a process, arguably a good or bad one. Yet like any process, there is a good way and a better way to go about achieving the same results. Here’s one more idea.
In Kenya, there is an abundance of labor and not enough jobs, leading to massive unemployment and a majority of Nairobi citizens in slums and severe poverty. Where is the hope in education?
I remember writing a paper for IPE (International Political Economy) based on Education as the “Weapon for Mass Development” for the Global South. I argued that education would provide opportunities for people to find the jobs they sought, and create a common language between various industries without borders. If people were going to take advantage of technological and global market advances, they would need to be educated on how to make uses of these emerging opportunities.
Now that I’m here on the ground, away from the theoretical classroom, I see a different picture. As I pass by field after field of corn, I remember studying how the World Bank encouraged a focus on cash crops for export, even as the US continues to subsidize many of these crops, thus reducing world prices as US farmers flood the markets with their product. When I see a USAID box in a school’s kitchen, I know the full meaning of the imprinted tagline, “From the American People”: The US Government bought food from US farmers, shipped the food via US shipping companies, all of which was coordinated by US-based NGOs. There’s a reason the two hands on the logo are both white.
But does the average Kenyan know this or need to know this? If I found myself working in that corn field or that school kitchen, what would this knowledge possibly DO for me?
One’s education is only so good as one can use it to take advantage of a market-niche: First, there needs to be a market, and second, one needs to specially trained to take advantage of that market.
A secondary education is just too general: everyone has one. Yet many people are unable to afford higher education, and even if they do, they often end up leaving the country for higher wages and/or living standards (a.k.a. the arguable Brain Drain). Still the economy remains largely undeveloped, with huge potential for growth… but how?
Perhaps education should be more practical; for instance, vocational training in industries such as carpentry, tailoring or construction. In many of our micro-financing projects, CWS trains single-mothers in simple and specific skills so that they can make a living. In one of our programs that sponsors students, a high school graduate is out looking for work, whereas a trained-mechanic is now taking care of his mother. There is no overnight success, yet the small steps forward are lasting ones.
Development is a process, arguably a good or bad one. Yet like any process, there is a good way and a better way to go about achieving the same results. Here’s one more idea.
Tuesday, June 6
A Miracle Job
An article written by Toya Richards Hill, appearing in the June/July 2006 issue of Presbyterians Today Magazine.
Learning how it feels to be a minority: Evans McGowan, who stands out among the people he works with in Kenya
Evans McGowan dreamed of living for an extended time outside the United States. And he believed a faith-based endeavor would be the backdrop for this experience.
Through the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) Young Adult Volunteer program he found the "perfect fit" for his dream: a one-year mission adventure in Kenya.
Working with Church World Service (CWS)—a U.S.-based relief and development agency in partnership with community-based organizations around the world—McGowan chronicles various programs and initiatives in the East African country. The goal: to build awareness and generate more donor funds.
Through a mix of traveling in the field to see projects up close and personal, and listening to updates from CWS workers and various grassroots organizations, McGowan gathers stories for a Web site and newsletters detailing how people's lives are being changed. His base is Nairobi.
"It really is a miracle job," says McGowan, 23, who calls Wilmington, Del., home and whose mother is a pastor at Westminster Presbyterian Church there. "What's wonderful is to see development work in practice, as opposed to just knowing of it in theory," he says.
Since arriving in Kenya last August, McGowan has witnessed everything from dairy goat farming and beekeeping to water system development and micro-financing efforts. And the 2005 Davidson (N.C.) College political science graduate has made a connection with the people of Kenya.
McGowan's time there also has resulted in personal growth and introspection. The experience of being away from family and friends has brought him closer to God.
There came a time when "I just suddenly realized I didn't have any of my close friends," he says. "That feeling of loneliness just hit."
Yet that same feeling of separation has been crucial to his Christian walk, which includes practices such as daily devotions and journaling. "Really getting in touch with God has been very key to me," McGowan says.
Being a minority—a white male in a majority black African world—also has been "challenging," he says. "It's really opened my eyes" to the feelings of segregation and discrimination."
"It's been humbling for me, and that's been a good thing," he says.
Ultimately, McGowan is hoping the overall experience of this year will help shape his future. He returns to the United States in August, after which he plans to take a year off before entering San Francisco Theological Seminary's Master of Divinity program.
"I really feel called to lead people to combine community action with their faith," says McGowan, "so they can put their faith in action."
Learning how it feels to be a minority: Evans McGowan, who stands out among the people he works with in Kenya
Evans McGowan dreamed of living for an extended time outside the United States. And he believed a faith-based endeavor would be the backdrop for this experience.
Through the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) Young Adult Volunteer program he found the "perfect fit" for his dream: a one-year mission adventure in Kenya.
Working with Church World Service (CWS)—a U.S.-based relief and development agency in partnership with community-based organizations around the world—McGowan chronicles various programs and initiatives in the East African country. The goal: to build awareness and generate more donor funds.
Through a mix of traveling in the field to see projects up close and personal, and listening to updates from CWS workers and various grassroots organizations, McGowan gathers stories for a Web site and newsletters detailing how people's lives are being changed. His base is Nairobi.
"It really is a miracle job," says McGowan, 23, who calls Wilmington, Del., home and whose mother is a pastor at Westminster Presbyterian Church there. "What's wonderful is to see development work in practice, as opposed to just knowing of it in theory," he says.
Since arriving in Kenya last August, McGowan has witnessed everything from dairy goat farming and beekeeping to water system development and micro-financing efforts. And the 2005 Davidson (N.C.) College political science graduate has made a connection with the people of Kenya.
McGowan's time there also has resulted in personal growth and introspection. The experience of being away from family and friends has brought him closer to God.
There came a time when "I just suddenly realized I didn't have any of my close friends," he says. "That feeling of loneliness just hit."
Yet that same feeling of separation has been crucial to his Christian walk, which includes practices such as daily devotions and journaling. "Really getting in touch with God has been very key to me," McGowan says.
Being a minority—a white male in a majority black African world—also has been "challenging," he says. "It's really opened my eyes" to the feelings of segregation and discrimination."
"It's been humbling for me, and that's been a good thing," he says.
Ultimately, McGowan is hoping the overall experience of this year will help shape his future. He returns to the United States in August, after which he plans to take a year off before entering San Francisco Theological Seminary's Master of Divinity program.
"I really feel called to lead people to combine community action with their faith," says McGowan, "so they can put their faith in action."
Thursday, June 1
The Islands of Lake Victoria
The last place Emily and I visited was Lake Victoria on the Tanzania side. Africa's largest lake is also home to one of the largest fishing industries in the world. There are over 200 islands on the lake, many of which have a small fishing camp. People come from the mainland to these camps to earn money in fishing (men) or hospitality/prostitution (women).
Flying over a fishing camp
These camps are really put-together slums to take advantage of the money inflow of the fishermen. At night the camps turn into one big party with young persons participating in all sorts of illicit activity. This troubling situation creates a "Hot-Zone" for the AIDS virus and other diseases, where the disease is readily transmitted, infecting many persons. When the people start showing symptoms they return to their villages on the mainlands, often infecting their loved ones and neighbors.
My Dream Come True: Getting to Fly with Captain Hamilton
The missionary couple we visited, the Hamiltons, work with the African Inland Church to plant churches and improve the dire health situation of these islanders. Dale is a pilot and has (what he claims, I have no way of verifying) the only float plane in sub-Saharan Africa. His wife Chris is a registered nurse and has trained many community health evangelists to promote the life of Christ with responsible living.
Emily and I on a hill above the Hamilton's Place
I felt very challenged to be surrounded by such natural beauty and created ugliness. I also felt blessed to see what good can come out of such an incredible partnership the Hamiltons have with the local people. They have been there for 18 years, and their impact is most telling in the relationships they have formed. We met many members of the small church and were greatly encouraged to see their hope in a seemingly hopeless situation.
Children gather around to see the visitors
Still, there is much work to be done. My colleague Sam Mutua visited shortly after we left, and is working with the Hamiltons on a proposal that would fund a sustainable project to bring much-needed medicine and health training to these often-overlooked areas. God-willing, we will find funding for the program.
Flying over a fishing camp
These camps are really put-together slums to take advantage of the money inflow of the fishermen. At night the camps turn into one big party with young persons participating in all sorts of illicit activity. This troubling situation creates a "Hot-Zone" for the AIDS virus and other diseases, where the disease is readily transmitted, infecting many persons. When the people start showing symptoms they return to their villages on the mainlands, often infecting their loved ones and neighbors.
My Dream Come True: Getting to Fly with Captain Hamilton
The missionary couple we visited, the Hamiltons, work with the African Inland Church to plant churches and improve the dire health situation of these islanders. Dale is a pilot and has (what he claims, I have no way of verifying) the only float plane in sub-Saharan Africa. His wife Chris is a registered nurse and has trained many community health evangelists to promote the life of Christ with responsible living.
Emily and I on a hill above the Hamilton's Place
I felt very challenged to be surrounded by such natural beauty and created ugliness. I also felt blessed to see what good can come out of such an incredible partnership the Hamiltons have with the local people. They have been there for 18 years, and their impact is most telling in the relationships they have formed. We met many members of the small church and were greatly encouraged to see their hope in a seemingly hopeless situation.
Children gather around to see the visitors
Still, there is much work to be done. My colleague Sam Mutua visited shortly after we left, and is working with the Hamiltons on a proposal that would fund a sustainable project to bring much-needed medicine and health training to these often-overlooked areas. God-willing, we will find funding for the program.
Wednesday, May 31
Of Faith and Choices
This month I had a very special visitor: my girlfriend, Emily. Being with her for two and half weeks reminded me of the past, jarred me awake to the present and catapulted my thoughts into the future. How would all three coalesce into one coherent perspective?So much of our lives are made up of choices based on faith. Yet before I jump to faith, let me dwell first on fortune. How fortunate to have my girlfriend here in Kenya with me! How fortunate for me to be taking a year to volunteer in Africa!
And yet what do I see through these fortunate eyes? A young gal from West Pokot, no more than 13, taken by an older man of 50 or 60 to be his third wife. A young boy from Ikuza, an island in Lake Victoria, who ran away from his abusive stepfather to live a life fishing for 16 hours and partying the other eight. A man graduating from the university with an engineering degree only to see his family live in the slums as he struggles to find work.
Outside a fishing camp on Ikuza Island, Lake Victoria
As an American I revel in having the freedom to choose. Emily had the option of visiting me in Africa. Together we had the opportunity to visit rural parts of Kenya, fly around the islands of Lake Victoria and walk through the slums of Nairobi; past some of the very persons I mentioned above. And we had the choice to return, she to her home in the US and me to my apartment in Nairobi… and soon back to the US. Most of the people we visited would be unable to leave their present circumstance, if they so chose.
A coworker remarked the other day, “Evans has seen more parts of Africa than me!” I’ve been here 10 months, and she’s lived in Kenya her entire life. Even in the same office, there is a wide spectrum of opportunity.
How much faith do I have if I can just get up and leave when things become too tough? Is there a point in life when having choices overwhelms any need of faith? With the ability to choose, do we begin to live by sight rather than by faith?
As Emily returns, so do my thoughts with her: Where will I live when I return? What will I do? How will I have changed? I plead with God to give me certain things: a comfortable place to live, an interesting job, meaningful friends. But how many of the people I just met can make requests like I can?
Emily and I flying around Lake Victoria
Oswald Chambers astutely notes that if we’re asking for things which we can see, then we’re asking out of our lust and not from the cry of our hearts. Sometimes we want God to show up on special days or dress in certain ways. Perhaps this is ingrained in us culturally, wanting a selection to choose from.
With my thoughts all jumbled about what is to happen in the next stage of life, I think I have no choices, for I want to act on things to come when I all I (ever) have is the present. And then I realize that on some level I can relate to these Africans without choice or fortune, feeling stuck in the drudgery of today. We can say we are bounded by limited choices, or we can choose to have faith that God is moving and will move in our lives, as well as others.
And change does come. The West Pokot girl Sheila is blessed to go to school and then return to teach her younger sisters. The young fisherman Peus (left) accepts Christ into his life, giving up the partying lifestyle and his job, too, and now lives by faith that the morrow will be better. The man Andrew can rest a little longer knowing his wife received a small loan to expand her business and pay for their children’s school fees.The quality and quantity of choices available often distracts us from faithfully focusing on God’s movements in the Now. We thrive in the present hope, not waiting for change in order to live abundantly, but living in light of what is promised.
If you didn’t know anything is better out there for you, would you search for it? I find belief in God gives me hope in today with possibility for tomorrow. I do not know what is to come, yet I believe God will be present wherever, whenever. May all of us be prayerfully aware of the Spirit’s movement, in all places and at all times.
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