The Toilet Paper Incident

I am sure many will laugh at my ridiculousness during and long after this post but, beneath the humor lies something I am still struggling with (at home too, but especially here in Kenya).  I also want to preface that I deeply love and cherish each of the Kenyans I mention too, and in no way mean this to put anyone down or talk badly about them.  I merely write this to highlight the cultural differences and how it has caused me to struggle with what Christ has called us to as servants. I also do not think this is a struggle I alone wrestle with, but one of many westerners in a cross cultural context of poverty and communal societies.  I will also say that despite the struggles I am about to mention, Kenyans, the Maasai especially, are some of the most gracious hosts and givers I have ever met, and I hope to be more like them in this regard someday.

I wouldn't say I am a stingy person, frugal maybe, strategic with my resources, definitely.  I also struggle with people who think they are entitled and people that take advantage of others.  However, in Kenya, as a missionary, it becomes a bit more complicated.  First of all, Africa in general has a completely different mindset for so many reasons I do not know, cannot fully explain, and do not have room to list.  If you have been to a third world communal empoverished society, you are likely to have experienced it and understand what I am talking about.  For a good book on the matter, African Friends and Money Matters is excellent in highlighting the African and Western thoughts on matters of ownership and money and explaining the mindset behind each view.  It helps one understand why the other thinks the way they do, not that one has to agree, or that each culture does not have their weaknesses that Christ within us transforms, but only that it helps us understand the other.  

I can only explain this experience in a variety of examples that again are in no way meant negatively, but there is frustration behind some of them I am still working through in God's loving grace as He transforms me.  In Vincent Donovan's book, Christianity Resiscovered, about taking the gospel to the Maasai he writes, "A missionary is essentially a social martyr, cut off from his roots, his stock, his blood, his land, his background, his culture.  He is destined to walk forever a stranger in a strange land.  He must be stripped as naked as a hiking being can be, down to the very texture of his being... so that he can be a naked instrument of the gospel to the cultures of the world". This is the stripping that is taking place.

I first noticed this different sense of ownership on one of my prior trips when my jacket was taken and worn by a Maasai man, I think without any intent to ever be given back.  On the one month of this trip however, I have noticed this theme more readily.  A lot of these have happened when driving, and you just can't help but laugh at the context, and how they all add up.  For instance being told, "Do not pick those people up on the side of the road." However, this is only because a little further down they have their own people that are in need of being picked up (none of which is said, you just figure it out 10 miles later when your car is full and you weren't supposed to stop for anyone but you have a car full of cousins.)  Or, it is implied that you need to empty your car before leaving for safety's sake (and the fact we have a ton of stuff somewhere we need you to bring back from the market that we forgot to mention).  There seems to be a culture of things left unsaid until the last second.  

Our special chocolate bar we bought for a treat after not having sweets was eaten mysteriously. We have been asked on multiple occasions to loan money up front. Folks call us on our cellphones only to hang up when we answer so we will call them back and use our minutes instead of theirs. People go without because it is just the way it is, but when we buy that something everyone else wants to use it because they shouldn't be without.  A whole slew of things that just boggle our American mind and make us say, "This can't be right! Can it?" As I said, none of these things are bad in their own right, and I hope I would happily do any of these for anyone that was in need.  Yet, as they become constant and repetitive and build on one another with details left unsaid, it becomes more difficult to serve with a joyful spirit.

With this context I bring us to the story you have been waiting for, the toilet paper incident.  I had (and still am but God is at work) been frustrated about feeling used and taken advantage of over our time in Kenya.  It all started one morning with a knock on our door, a Maasai man that was working for us (who lived about a kilometer away) knocked on our door, said hello, came inside, looked around the room, picked up our toilet paper, rolled off two good handfuls and left.  We were a little confused, but just figured he really had to go, no big deal.  Second morning, same exact thing, maybe he ate some bad meat.  Third morning, again. This is happening.  After the forth morning I was hiding the two pieces of toilet paper we had left.  On the fifth day he asks, "Where is the toilet paper?" After leaving sad and empty handed, I felt dirty (as I am sure so did he), did I really just hide toilet paper from a Maasai I felt called to fly across the world and serve?  So I asked Audrey, "Was that wrong?  Are we being taken advantage of?  Don't we need toilet paper too?  Doesn't he have a toilet at home?  What would he do if we weren't here?"  What would Jesus have done?  Does Jesus need toilet paper?  Did Jesus poop?"  All are deeply theological questions...

Later that evening, I was reading Christianity Rediscovered and it began to talk about that if someone ask you to go the extra mile, go two.  If they ask for your shirt, give them your coat too.  Jesus is turning our whole system of ownership, possession, and entitlement upside down.  I again began to feel convicted, not only should I probably not have hid the toilet paper, I probably should have given him a roll to take home.  But, but, how does that effect every other instance that I have listed?  Does it?  Can I have my chocolate eaten, phone minutes drained, money borrowed, and be used as a taxi and shuttle all for Christ, all to show love?  Is it ultimately hurting to give in to these demands, or is that even our concern?  Do we merely act in love, and let Christ hold them accountable for their potential misuse?  Am I being taken advantage of?  Does it matter?  What about our needs?  

All are challenging questions and I do not believe there is any easy answer to any of them.  There are books that give one answer, churches that give another, common sense may tell us one thing, and then Christ goes and flips it all on its head.  I was reading in Matthew 6 today and I was again convicted.  I am adding what I heard, so you may want to read it in your own version. Do not store up toilet paper on earth where feces and flies corrupt and where it can be easily taken. Give it away freely, beyond what you are asked.  If you store it, you have to guard it. Then you are just wasting your time and resources when they could be better used elsewhere, doing something more important of eternal value, for the kingdom.  For where your treasure is, the things you put guards on to make sure they stay yours, is where your heart truly is.  These are the things that mean more to you than what should mean the most and best guess they are not eternal. Most times they can be easily flushed without a second thought.  I love to give gifts when nothing has been asked of me, but as someone continually asked for something I feel my giving spirit shriveling. Yet, this is not what Christ calls us to; he calls us to give freely beyond what has been asked.

Then Jesus hits us with one last zinger.  Do not worry.  There are better things to spend your time on.  The birds do not build store houses, plant a garden, or tuck away food and I provide food for the birds. I clothe the plants, and you are more precious to me than they, what are you worried about?  I will provide every need. It may not be in the form of triple-ply and extra cushy, but I will provide your needs. It is all Mine, why are you trying to hold on to what I have already given you?  Do you not trust I will again provide?  And what good would worrying even do? Does it make you feel better?  Add time to your day?  Make your problems go away?  God knows your needs, so let it go. Seek the kingdom and His righteousness. Let Him sort out the rest.  Do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will take care of itself, each day has enough trouble of its own.

So this is us, stripped bare, cut from our roots, strangers in a strange land.  We are struggling at times, but Christ is making us new so that we can be naked instruments of the gospel to the cultures of the world.  This is only through what He accomplishes. Father, give us a spirit of humbleness and overflowing love. Eesai.

The Cheesy Thanksgiving Post

I am not sure why I am constantly amazed at God’s provision; maybe it shows my lack of trust.  At every step of the way in my journey of life God has provided, exceedingly and abundantly.  Yet, whenever I get in a tight spot, I get worried (just like the disciples when the storm arose, Luke 8:22).  God consistently shows me, as He did with disciples, how little my faith can be, after everything I have seen I still doubt and fear.  Ever since I have arrived at Kenya, and even before in the process of getting to Kenya, God has been teaching me hope and trust and to fully rely on Him.  From raising funds, buying an airplane ticket, and going before our team was ready, He was already there. In each of these He provided His way and answered the little trust we were able to muster exceedingly and abundantly with His provision.  We raised almost all our yearly funds we needed just before we left, our trip went smoothly, and ever since we have arrived God has provided partners, friends, and opportunities, as we anticipate our teammates arrival and embark on the mission we originally had planned in Kimana. 

After being in Kenya a few days and adjusting a bit, we headed out to the only real place we knew of (besides where we will be long term, we decided to wait and go there until our teammates had arrived) where there were Maasai and we had some contacts and friends.  God used and blessed this time richly as we started our language, reconnected with old friends, and worked alongside the church.  During this time we made connections with four other missionary families that have each encouraged, enriched, and blessed our ministry in many different ways.  Towards the end of our time there we went back to Nairobi and spent a few days at a guest house, planning on leaving to go down to Olepishet (an area another missionary set up for us, completely a God thing, for we could have never found it on our own).  I came down with some food poisoning, but again God provided a place to stay with this missionary family and blessed us during the recovery, after which we headed down to Olepishet.  Here God again blessed us with a wonderful language helper who understood well the language and culture we were trying to learn, as well as a wonderful house, safety, and health over our month long stay there. 

Within the last couple of weeks, we began to feel our time there drawing to a close, both as we finished some of our language learning recordings and as we were starting to grow eager to visit with some other missionary families and begin the rigorous car search.  With Thanksgiving around the corner, we were again blessed by God’s hand and were invited to spend a few days with a medical missionary family and have an American Thanksgiving dinner.  In coming here to Bomet, we were blessed richly with new friends, reconnecting with old acquaintances, great food, hot showers, a toilet, and even cold drinks!  We have better Internet and phone reception and are able to make a few phone calls to friends and family, check our emails, talk with our organization, and also discover that almost all of the money for our car has been raised!  We are still not exactly sure how much is needed since we have not found a car in particular to buy.  But God has provided far more than we had planned to buy a sturdy vehicle.  To Him be the glory.  Continue to pray as we re-start the search for a car next week.  In the last week, we have been connected with some good contacts whose mission is to help find missionaries safe, sturdy, and affordable cars.  Again, he has answered our specific need.

Lastly, we are excited to report that the Strangs will soon be joining us in Kenya towards the end of December.  We are still trying to find some people and things to connect with until their arrival, but this morning were encouraged by a phone call of a missionary friend who invited us to stay with her for a couple weeks until our teammates arrived, leaving just a few days unaccounted for (yet only to us). God has already accounted and planned each of our footsteps, so we just wait for his guidance and vision (Psalms 37:23-24).  We are excited to see what he has for us next as we are overwhelmed by His provisions. We stand in awe as we look back at what he has done and are still struggling with our meager trust as we move forward with our tiny, childlike faiths. 

Refinement

God's constant theme in my life lately has been that of refinement and renewal. With all the moving and goodbyes and road trips and transitions, we really haven't had a "home" since late July. Due to this and the lack of plans present for the next month of our lives, God has been eagerly drawing me back to Him, my true Life Source. When home is gone and you rely on God's provision day by day, there is no choice in being refined. It simply has to happen. My security can no longer be complete in a home, a plan, friends, family, or Chase. It's no secret that uncertainty and changes shift our focus. We are forced to rely on someone Greater. My friend Marcy told me once, "Gold is mined out by force." I have found it to be true! Not many things in a Kenya go as planned. It's just not how it goes. Flexibility is the name of the game. Life here can be packed, yet there is also a slow pace to it. There's a large amount of time available to talk to God here and to realize that he is indeed the Sustainer and Life Giver. Twice now, in different churches in different locations, John 15 has been the topic that was preached. I considered that not to be a coincidence. 

With all the changes and new challenges here, I have had to get back to the basics. Will I trust in myself or the Creator? Will I find ways or fills voids to fill myself up it will I allow him to fill me? What aspects of my personality or identity will I allow him to reshape so that I can love others more fully? God makes it clear that we are mere branches of the true Vine. We can't survive well without his influence and very being flowing through us, but we have to be awake. God will not force his way on us, but rather we must be open to his pruning and reshaping. "Remain in me and I will remain in you," (15:4) he says. "As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy  may be complete." (15: 9-11) "You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit--fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other. (15:16) Jesus says that he wishes for us to be connected. When we are, we will truly bear fruit. My friends, we have to remain awake! For me, it is so easy to coast through this life without being changed or allowing ourselves to be changed by him. Being refined requires both diligence and discipline I have found. It requires that we are attentive to what is going on around us and to who is around us. 

To each of you reading, thank you for allowing me the opportunity to be refined by your prayers and your generous sending of us to this country and to the people we love. I LOVE you all. And, when I forget, please remind me, too, to stay awake so that the Image Bearer himself will continue to prune and refine who I am. 

No brakes. Flat tire. No worries.

Driving in Kenya, and I assume in any just about foreign country, is an experience.  Not only do you have to learn which side of the car to enter on when you are driving (or riding as a passenger in the front, you have to learn to casually act like you did not try to enter on the wrong side), learn to drive on the opposite side of the road, learn where the blinker is (not the where the windshield wipers are, giving the American windshield wiper salute every time you try to change lanes) learn to navigate roundabouts, roundabouts with traffic lights (which I think defeat the purpose) then roundabouts with traffic lights with cops directing people when to go (which I think negates the purpose of both of the other two and causes more harm than good).  If you are as fortunate and unfortunate, as we are to have a manual vehicle, you must learn to shift with the opposite hand, and as with any big city, get your calf workout with the stop and start traffic and your trusty clutch.  There are no real traffic laws that are enforced or behaved (except when someone one decides enforcing them may give him and extra dollar in pocket), and the biggest ugliest car usually wins.  Good thing for us we have a big an ugly car... We are currently borrowing a big white manual 80's Landcruiser that, as I wrote in a previous post, has been nicknamed the white buffalo in Maa.  A very apt name for our bohemoth with 4wd, snorkel, dual spares and batteries, locking hubs, roof rack,  high lift jack, and alas no power steering.  Not a big deal most of the time, you just power through the turns, however it does make bush driving a bit more difficult.  If you are not paying attention you can yank your arm out of socket, or if very unfortunate, you could break your wrist if you do not have a firm grip on the wheel when you hit some of these ruts.  This combined with the play in the steering wheel leaves a lot to pay attention to: potholes, ruts, rocks, thorns, glass, animals, nails, people, dust clouds, matatus, other crazy drivers, all along while having someone who does not speak the same first language trying to give you directions.  Quite the physical and mental workout.  

Since taking the road from Narok to Narosura we have not made the journey without getting a flat tire or worse...  Tires aren't too bad though, changing one is just as much hassle in the states (just a little dustier here).  Our jack is a little rusty and gets hung now and then but no real problem.  We have two spares, and getting a tire patched here is actually quite a bit cheaper than in the states (often under $5) large plus on the Kenyan side!  You have to find an honest mechanic, again the same as in the states, and haggle for a price, but it only takes about 15 minutes (another plus).  

The other day, however, on our way back from Narok getting groceries, I encountered something a bit more challenging.  As I approached one of the many bumps in the road I went to slow down and the brake pedal went to the floor with no resistance.  "Hmm..." Thinks I, "No brakes".  The next bump comes and goes and Audrey comments, "Hit that one a little fast didn't you?"  Still trying to decide what to say and if my brakes are completely gone, I decide to let her in to my secret, "I don't think the brakes are working too well".  She shoots me a worried look, but I assure her it will be okay, we'll just drive slower. So we do, and this is where one of the big advantages to a manual vehicle lies, the downshift.  If ever you are in a situation where you don't want to or can brake, the downshift can slow you down in a jiffy. So that's what we do, drive at a slower pace, downshifting, down the dirt rutted road with no brakes or power steering.  I did not let the rest of our riders into my secret until we arrived in town at the mechanic and I left to find some more brake fluid (nonsense to worry the locals).  The mechanic did not have the part that broke so we simply tied that brake line off and decided it would work okay with the other three, once we added some more brake fluid.  So now we await our missing part being brought in from a bigger town.  When we arrived back home we found we had a slow leaking tire as well.  Makes for a long day and an exciting story, but God's sovereignty and protection were with us at every turn and bump in the road, much like life.  Amen.

Farm to Table

I consider myself a decent cook.  I have had to cook for myself for a while now, having worked a few jobs in food prep and food services and having lived on my own, and I still continued to cook quite a bit the last couple of years when Audrey has been working hard at school.  She always cooks when she can and helps out in whatever way is asked. She just has been busy the last couple years, so we have shared in the cooking.  I would also consider myself a decent backpacking chef, although I may not make fresh biscuits and sausage, or pork chops while on the trail, I have never gone to bed hungry, and usually come up with quite the assortment of concoctions to feed and please my taste buds.

However, cooking in Kenya has proven a bit more challenging, so I thought I would theorize some of the reasons why that is and walk you through our typical meals in the bush.  The factors are (as I believe): availability, storage, planning, and equipment.  Let's start by combining planning and availability.  In America, one typically writes out their menu for the week, goes to the store, picks up the items, checks out, and goes home.  Sometimes people will comparison shop or go to a second store, but rarely does anyone spend more than a couple hours in their grocery shopping unless they just enjoy it (like my father, he lives in the grocery store).  But if you are like Audrey (who hates it) you plan out your list, wait for the perfect time (when no one is at the store) and then you speed through like the Indy 500 (unfortunately for her this means going back at least once more in the week because something was overlooked or forgotten).

But in Kenya, in the bush, you plan.  The closest "store" is made of mud and is about twenty minutes away and sells (on most days, if they happen to have in stock) local produce (tomatoes, potatoes, onions, cabbage), flour, rice, maybe eggs, sugar, and tea.  So this is helpful if you happen to run short of something, or are cooking a soley flour and rice diet.  The next closest store is close to an hour away (down a very bumpy, rutted road, and driving through a few waist deep streams).  In this town, Narosura, you can find wash buckets, cookware, soap, butter, eggs, bread, clothing, phones and a variety of other things.  There is even a local market on Wednesday, however, sadly enough, no samosas (my favorite Kenyan food, sort of like a ground beef triangle egg roll with spices and onion).  However, if you are really low on stuff the closest actual grocery store is 2.5 hours away in a town named Narok, down a road that I have not yet driven without getting a flat, or worse (but that is for another post).  Here you can find some meat (butchered and canned corn beef), pasta, pasta sauce (although not Ragu), other sauces such as soy and Worchestershire, oatmeal, muesli (not as good as the granola), samosas, large jugs of water, a variety of fruit such as apples and tangerines, juice, and chocolate.  Alas, if you need those harder to find items such as granola, dried fruit, Ragu, a wider variety of canned and smoked meat, and other supplies you go to Nairobi 4.5 hours away (we've held off on this one).  

We have been trying to plan our shopping excursions at least a week and a half a part, which means lots of planning, and using every bit of our supply before we get more.  This means making a menu, diagrams are drawn, routes are planned, schedules are set, spreadsheets are made (my friend Tim would appreciate this), and money is acquired (you have to carry enough for all you groceries, and any possible repairs your car may need along the way, and there's not always a good place to acquire money, so this too takes planning.)  Now that we have discovered the closer small store we may be visiting it weekly for fresher veggies and making meals of things we can find more readily.  This also means stockpiling. I bought three times the amount of pasta and sauce that we had last time in case we got in a tough spot. We like pasta, a lot (right now that is)...  

Another big factor in cooking and shopping is storage.  There are some things that last forever like pasta and rice and flour.  However, within four days bread is molded and the potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, cabbage, and peppers are withering and wilting fast.  With our nomadic lifestyle, we have not yet acquired a fridge or a way to cool things. This means no real milk or cheese for Audrey, no meat for me besides canned or smoked (which is a big deal since my foodgroups back home were cow, pig, and chicken).  So far we have found some "salami" in Nairobi and canned corned beef in Narok (2.5 hours away).  We do usually have eggs though, so I am thankful for that.  Also, surprisingly, if eggs are never refrigerated, they can last without being refrigerated for a long time.  You can't do many things left over, that we have figured out yet, since most food doesn't last more than a day at room temperature.  So we usually only cook one big hot prepared meal a day for lunch. That way if there is something small left, we can try to eat it at dinner and we don't go to bed on a full stomach, which I hear is unhealthy and would probably make us the only fat Kenyans. 

Although a lot of the items in stores may be similar to what is in the states, there is a fair bit that is not there too, and without refridgeration this cuts it down more.  Think about planning your menu without using anything out of the fridge. How many meals a day could you make? If it were me in the states, maybe one.  Another reason a lot of my meals from back home are ruled out is because we have no oven.  Cooking on a gas top burner (ours is literally a propane tank with a burner coming out of the top, and a metal ring that sits on top of the propane tank that a pot can sit on) is harder than I thought. It requires patience, a steady hand to inch the gas down to a setting where the flame does not blow out, or not so high that you charcoal your food.  It seems that most time the gas top has three settings: off, hot, and hades.  So suffice it to say, we have burned a lot of meals starting off, and had a hard time cooking things that take time and patience such as rice and beans (a staple here) well.  Although in time we have learned to inch down the burner, use lots of oil, and add water as necessary.  Also, because I used to be such an instant chef back home (not much do I make from scratch, mainly because as my old boss used to say (ain't no one got time for that).  I do like fresh from scratch food, but I what I like better is food that tastes almost from scratch that takes half the time and effort. It is also hard to cook some of these things without the instructions on the back of a package I am so used to reading and then ignoring back home.  

This all being said I have enjoyed relearning to cook, and to make new things here, and none of this is meant as a complaint, just an exaggerated explanation of what our cooking entails in Kenya.  Our current menu consist of (for our "cold" or quick meals of breakfast and dinner): egg sandwiches, eggy toast (nicknamed almost French toast), toast, jam sandwich, tomato and butter sandwich, salami sandwich, granola (when we can find salami and granola), oatmeal (hopefully with dried fruit when we can find some), apple sauce, guacamole, and eggy flour (close to crepes).  For lunch, our hot prepared meal, we have hashbrowns, and an egg, potato, tomato concoction I made up, rice, lentils, onion and peppers, rice, onion, garlic, tomato, and potato, corned beef, cabbage, and potato (recipe still in progress), and flatbread garlic chipates.  Over the last three weeks our cooking has greatly improved, and thanks to friends sending us some new ideas we have some new recipes in the works.  Although we are still always trying to find more variety as we find new recipes and ingredients (with these conditions aforementioned in mind).  So if you have any ideas, good recipes, or can think of something we are overlooking, shoot us an email.  We would love to hear from you, or to bounce ideas around with you!  Thank you so much!

Reflections on the Infestation Investigation

I'll tell you what. For being here only a few days over a month, we have some good stories for the books. Perhaps you've already heard about our car overheating and getting lodged in the mud. In our traveling here to Olepishet, we got a flat (we've now had two)...and Chase will fill you in on additional details in another post. Thursday, I woke up feeling a little itchy and even had the marks to prove it. Chase was a little skeptical not being itchy at all himself. I wasn't overly bothered, just a little annoyed. I was actually more annoyed with the flies that continued to welcome us to the area. So, I started a game where I exterminate them with our scrub brush. It's quite fun, actually.

Anyway, another night falls and I find myself waking up and scratching. The next morning, Chase gets a small sheet from the third room in the structure where we are living that houses bunk beds, linens, and wool blankets. He had planned to use the sheet as a curtain, as one of the windows in the main room is broken out. Just being curious, I walked up to the sheet. Sure enough, there were at least four little jumping creatures. That confirmed my suspicions and that morning I was really itching. 

Chase and I decided it was now time for a complete washdown and a room spray down. A friend we met at the guest house in Nairobi gifted us with a can of "Doom" as a house warming present. 😉 It came in quite handy. I had been using another sheet to cover my clothes, so most of my clothes, our sheets, pillows, blankets and all had to be washed. Two friends came and helped with the washing since it takes a bit more time and effort these days. There was a rainbow of color as clothes and linens lined the barbed wire and bushes. I am still unsure as to why clothes are hung wet on barbed wire, but I won't ask questions. My Kenyan friend explained that fleas visit often and I wasn't quite sure what to say. Was I being a baby for trying to get rid of them? I wasn't sure. He told me that his family washes all linens weekly in an effort to keep them at bay. In a community where animals (cows, sheep, and goats) are everything, it only makes sense. I also read in a medical manual from my training that fleas only like certain people. In a family, only 10-20% even get bit. Well, I guess I fall in the percentage and provide a tasty meal for the critters. 😊 Needless to say, Chase and I changed our routine a bit and bought some "Sevin Dudu Dust" in Narok when we went for groceries yesterday (Saturday). Strange name, but we've found that it works so far! 

I realize that in the scheme of life, this is a painfully small challenge. What it's reminded me of though is how little we are in control and ultimately, what a good thing this is. This same day, Chase and I were nearly out of food. We were we were headed to Narok the next day to get groceries. Our bread was out, as well as our veggies and fruits. That left peanuts, flour, water, and some orange drink mix. We had been asking our friends about the ingredients that went into making chapatis, a local flatbread that Kenyans make. We realized that we didn't have enough flour or the eggs to make it happen. 

Chase, being the determind person that he is, decides to try anyway. The whole time I'm thinking, "Why try without all the ingredients?" With just flour, water, sugar, and salt we ended up having the most delicious dinner: almost chapatis topped with salt and garlic power (close to garlic bread, right?) and others with sugar and cinnamon. On the night we wondered if we'd go hungry, God provided and we were full of delicious bread. I'm not sure why it still surprises me so much. Now, isn't it a good thing we aren't in control? If it was up to me, I might have gone hungry or eaten peanuts for dinner. Thankfully, I have a determined husband and a very faithful Father. Even though there seems to be a lot that DOESN'T go as planned in this new life of ours in Kenya, as one of my favorite movies Dan in Real Life says, "Plan to be surprised." I would add, "and thank the Lord you aren't the one in control". 

This is me posing with our "du du dust". 😊

Careful what you pray for

I once was supposed to meet an ex-girlfriend of mine after having broken up a few days earlier.  A killer storm happened to hit right as I was about to leave and I decided not to go, texting her "I can't come because of the rain."  However, as life and auto-correct do, they played a cruel trick on me and my sentence was corrected to "I can't come because of the pain"... Didn't hear from her for a while...  

I have always known that during the rainy season in Africa you have to be careful where and when you go places because the roads you go in on may not still be there when you want to leave.  However, one would think it safe to assume they would be in tact in a time of drought, in a tough 4wheel drive 1980's Landcrusier.  However, as you can guess, one would be wrong.  We left late one evening just before dark (first mistake) I disobeyed my first rule, don't go out at dark in Africa.  However, I had made an exception because the wife of the family that was hosting us had been away for quite some time with her new baby and had not yet seen her mother.  And as all mothers can attest, I have heard this is a big deal (see ma, such a good boy you raised)!  So we left semi-late just to stop by, reunite mother, daughter, and granddaughter, have a cup of tea and return home.  Soon as we started to pull up to the house the rain started. This was an answer to prayer, as we had been praying for rain the whole week, the Maasai were in severe drought, animals were dying, malnourished, no grass was to be seen, and there was not a lot of water for people in some areas; this was a great thing.  That was when the heavens broke loose with torrential downpour. We sat and waited and waited. About two hours later we decided we were going to have to leave because the rain was not going to stop.  

The father assured me, he too had a 4x4 truck, I would be fine with the Landcrusier.  In fact, it would probably be best not to even take the road back because of the deep ruts, take my shortcut instead...(second mistake) Anyone who has seen a bad horror movie knows that is how it starts.  The man we were staying with said he knew the path so instead of asking the father, I loaded up and headed on our merry way taking my directions like a champ.  My friend David will love this, knowing how well I take directions, and how much I pride myself in my off-roading ability.  Having been to Kenya and experienced this first hand, taking directions from a Kenyan is no easy task.  My mother won't believe this but off-road I am actually a good driver.  I take it slow, I avoid potholes, ravines and the giant craters in front of me. I maneuver around the giant acacia thorns.  But Kenyans don't see it that way, any slight deviation to avoid something in your path that changes your direction from where they want you to go they will tell you, "No not that way, this way."  But I just want to turn 3 inches left to avoid that giant rock and then I promise I will turn back - No not that way!  Okay but there is a giant hole there -yes, that's right, that way.  It can be very distracting, especially in a downpour, in the dark...

So as I am taking my shortcut following directions I get a glimpse in the dark of something that seems to be two large ravines filled with water coming together at a point.  So I ask the question I knew the answer to, "Are we sure this is the right way? It seems these ravines on either side of us are joining together." "Oh, we must have gone the wrong way, can you turn around?"  "Can I turn around?" To answer that question you need some context.  The Landcrusier I am driving was aptly nicknamed the white buffalo and is neither fast nor graceful.  It has no power steering and had no chance of making a neat 3 point turn in the 15 feet allotted to me, on pavement, in the best conditions, much less in the terrential downpour and mudslide of 3 inch deep wet black cotton silt soil, between two giant ravines filled with water.  But as always I am up for a good joke so I will give it a try.  But alas after much trying, praying, and rolling around in the mud, getting both myself and the drivers side thoroughly disgusting everyone had given up besides me.  Big surprise right?  Finally I was convinced it was indeed time to stop trying and move on (I could have gotten it though...probably not).  

So we gathered my wet and muddy self, Audrey, the couple we were staying with, and the baby, covered ourselves in a shuka (piece of thin cloth) because only the guy had a jacket, and used our cell phone as a flashlight, because none of us had one of those (man I would have made a bad Boy Scout) and headed towards the house. It was a mere 2 miles away through the mudslide in ill equipped shoes that were either sucked off by the mud or collected an extra 10lbs and grew to twice the original size of the shoe.  Initially there was crying, then hysteric maniacal laughter, and I was afraid we might have had a pschotic break, but it turned out to be okay. When faced with the ridiculousness of the situation, and that we were safe, it became quite the funny sight and story.  I told this to my Maasai friend as we were walking, "This is a story to remember". "I don't want to remember this one," she said.  However, I think now she would. As I said despite the circumstances, we were safe. I returned and retrieved the car in the morning and pulled off about 30lbs of mud of the bottom.  This reminded me that even when we do stupid things, and wind up very stuck, beyond ourselves, we are in His hands, that God answers prayer, though it may not be in our timing...

Life in Olepishet

Life in Olepishet is another new adventure. We are staying in a three room facility that normally operates as a place for oral Bible training. The place is equipped with bunk beds and linens, four plastic chairs, and a wood table. One metal bunk bed frame has become our shelf for language learning resources and materials, our food items, and a plates and utensils drying rack. In one corner sits our gas canister for cooking and the wall opposite the door are colored basins lining the wall filled with water used for cooking, cleaning, and bathing. In the middle of the room is the table that serves as our meal prep table and language learning desk. Our bedroom contains our belongings and two bunk beds pushed together with a mosquito net covering our little sleeping area/bed fort. 

     

After language learning, Chase and I prepared a fine meal of pasta and cleaned up in preparation to go on a walk. After walking a bit, we realized I had left Chase's Nalgene water bottle on the steps outside our house. We quickly hiked backed realizing there was a good chance it may have been taken. Sometimes things like to disappear. Thankfully, the bottle was sitting where I had left it. The previous day's market adventure had reminded us just how necessary these bottles were after an entire day in the hot sun and Landcruiser. (Of course, we had no idea it would take all day long, but we were waiting on an intertube since we ended up with a flat the day we arrived here and we didn't want to drive all the way out again the following day.) 

Chase and I continue to practice language with each other and people we meet and are thankful for each other's company in a place where we get lots of smiles and also lots of stares. To get a phone signal, we have to walk a bit to go and stand near this certain rock. We can only get texts or call people when by that rock and even then it's a gamble. Our experience to check and send emails proved to be an interesting one. We drove about fifteen or twenty minutes and when we parked, children and young people were eager to see who and what was happening with the people in the car. As I called my mama, she could hear people laughing and asking us questions in the background. Other than the words, "Give me ten shillings" and "What is your name?" we couldn't understand what they were saying. We answered and smiled back, but my heart sank with questions. How do I portray my love and care? Is it by giving shillings or is it by praying that God will shine through my smile when I have no words to speak? Or is it both? These are the delimmas of a missionary, I guess. One thing is for sure. You learn to rely on and ask for God's grace more than ever before.