Do You Kisii What I Kisii?

It’s been a little while since I’ve updated, and I have so much I want to share! Here we go…

Jumping back to last Thursday. We started processing the pig meat to make sausage when we quickly realized from the smell that some of the sausage meat had gone bad when the power went out the day before. This is a common occurrence in Geita. Luckily most of the other good meat survived. Maybe survived isn't a good word here. It remained eatable.

Our plan was to leave Friday for Mwanza and head to Kisii, Kenya on Saturday to visit a church and school. The Church of Christ in Dangerfield, Texas had sent a representative to see the work that Brett was doing in Geita and also to visit the church they support in Kisii. Brett offered to take this man Duane to Kenya, so we got to tag along! Plans changed a little when baby Cohen got sick and needed to go to the hospital in Mwanza on Thursday. We all packed up and jumped in the cars. One of the best thing about long car rides, or car rides in general, is that Brett pours out all his thoughts/ideas/crazy stories on us. This car ride we heard all about his idea of primary, secondary, and tertiary fun. Yes, he rates his level of fun. I would probably rate listening to him talk for an hour on this as secondary fun, but almost primary fun. That night we spent time with some of the missionaries on the Mwanza team at their house.

On Friday we picked up Duane from the airport and spent a lot of time doing things around town. We visited the biggest “grocery store” and were astonished by the amount of processed food they had. (Un)fortunately, processed food here is typically much more expensive than in the states. Cereal is good and all, but not sure I can justify paying $6 for it. Unless it’s honey bunches of oats (with almonds of course. I’m looking at you Mary Helen).

Saturday morning we enjoyed the beautiful drive to Kisii past the Serengeti and through the rolling hills of corn and sugarcane (not to be confused with the seven layers of the candy cane forest). We were planning to visit both Nyamue Church of Christ and the private school that is affiliated with the church. David Marube, the preacher and director for the school, was our wonderful host for the weekend. He met us on our way in to welcome us and show us around town. Right from the start he was extremely hospitable, and I quickly came to admire the way he spoke to us with wisdom and purpose. Be it to teach or to make us laugh. Later that night we discovered the Pizza Griller, where we would become regular customers for the next three nights.  Yay for good American food! (Although don’t be fooled, we have had plenty of really delicious American and foreign food since we’ve been here).

Since we were staying at a convent in Kisii, Sunday morning began with worship music blasting through the window. We left for Nyamue COC where we got to meet all of David’s family, many of whom also serve some role in the church. It was great to see a family coming together to work to bring the kingdom to their community. Yet again they honored us as guests, even though we were honored to be there with them (Although they may have treated us so well because David thinks Brett looks like the brother of Jesus). David asked that Duane and Brett share a lesson with the church. It was great to see what we have been talking about in our classes being played out. We’ve discussed a lot about leading a church through teaching others to be obedient to scripture, which is best done by reading scripture together and interpreting it as a group to see what God is teaching. This leads us all to be dependent on God’s truth instead of on one person’s teachings (Unless that person is Jesus…). In this way we form a church of obedient disciples who are equipped to be salt of the earth and lights of the world. We read the story of Jesus feeding the 5,000 with five loaves and two fish, seeing God abundantly provide for his people. In the same way He provides abundant love and forgiveness to us so that it can overflow into other’s lives.

Speaking of abundance, the Marube family was overflowing with generosity. They served us a delicious meal at their home, offering us much more than we could handle. We spent the whole afternoon with them at their home, talking and playing with the kids. Even meeting their newborn calf. Eventually we had to leave. It’s always fun driving down the narrow dirt roads past all the homes in the village, because everyone on the side of the road smiles and waves. Sure, it may be because they don’t see Mzungu (white people) all that often, but the joy is genuine. That night Brooke and I had peanut butter banana sandwiches. My joy was genuine too. Although, later on there wasn’t so much joy when we got up at 1am to watch the World Cup and Portugal scored in the last few seconds to tie with USA. It was still a fun experience to watch soccer in the middle of the night at a convent in Kenya while eating Oreos with milk (that part was just Gunnar and Brett).

I didn’t think Monday could get much better, but it definitely did. On the way to Nyamue Christian Academy, we picked up sugarcane for us and the kids at school. After David introduced us to the teachers, the kids performed some songs and dances for us. Per David’s request, I got to join the kids. The dancing flamingo strikes again. This time with slightly less laughter from the kids. Later during their break they showed us some more dances and Brooke and Katie taught them the few we know. Ayyy macarena! They pick up on these things fast. We went around to all the classes and were quite impressed at the level the students were at. Three and four year olds were learning English letters and starting to learn words in both English and Swahili (Kisii is their native tongue). All the kids were attentive and willing to learn. I talked to all the teachers more later and came to see how incredibly gifted and intelligent women they are. After sharing another delicious meal with David’s family, we went on a walk/hike to a place on the hill where they get soapstone that they carve into small sculptures to sell. It was an incredible view. Or so I thought, until later that evening they took us up to an even more amazing spot where you could see for miles in every direction. We were all in awe.

                       

 “As the heavens are higher than the earth, 

so are my ways higher than your ways 

and my thoughts higher than your thoughts… 

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; 

the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, 

and all the trees of the field will clap their hands."

Isaiah 55:9,12

The Lord used this trip much differently than I had expected. He revealed his immense love through his creation, through people, and through the many many moments of laughter. We were all so thankful to the whole Marube family, not just for the food and fun adventures, but also for challenging us and showing such selfless love.

Just one of the amazing views.

(More pictures to come!)

Oink

So I may have misled you, and myself, in my first blog post when I said I wouldn’t be able to rely on the comfort of having peanut butter and banana toast for breakfast. The Lord has let me have that comfort, the only difference being it was on Christie’s homemade bagel instead of toast. Which really just made it better.

On Saturday we went to the gold mine with Brett and Christie and the kids. We didn’t find any gold. Mostly because we weren’t looking for it. Many Saturdays their family will go here to get away and have some fun together. We can swim, run, workout, or play on a playground, all without having to wear a skirt. I even got to throw a frisbee again! That night the Groens (the other missionary family we’ll be working with) came back from Israel. Our summer 2014 Geita family is finally united! They have already been incredibly hospitable and have made me and the other interns feel at home.

Sunday was our first journey to a village, and so far the best part of being in Tanzania (although Katie getting stuck in the bathroom at a restaurant comes in a close second). Village church was everything I had pictured, but nothing like I expected. The small church, dirt floors, singing kids, and uncomfortable plank of wood for chairs were all as I had imagined them to be. What I didn’t expect was how many times we would greet people with “Bwana a safiwe” (Praise the Lord). Or the pure beauty of hearing the choir sing once the sounds system they attempted to use wouldn’t work. Or the privilege of being considered an honored guest and given a seat at the front. Although many of us would not choose to be set out in front of the church body like celebrities, this was their way of showing love and gratitude toward us, and it was humbling to accept it. After church we went to the preacher Matayo’s house to have lunch that they prepared for us and to spend time with the people. The meal was surprisingly delicious considering village food generally consists of beans and ugali (bland food that is similar to grits). They made us “doughnuts”, chai tea, chicken and rice. In order to show the family we enjoy the meal and appreciate their effort, we’re expected to finish all they give us, or at least most of it. Usually I’m pretty good at finishing my food and taking on other people’s leftovers, but this proved to be more of a challenge than I expected. Luckily Matayo knows Brett enough to not be insulted that we couldn’t finish all the meal they gave us. After the kids warmed up to us, naturally we ended up dancing. They attempted to show me some moves and all laughed at me when I, as Brett puts it, looked like a dancing flamingo. No matter how much I embarrassed myself, it was every bit worth it to laugh with all of them. I also loved the small amount of communication we were able to have. Just being able to ask someone’s name broke down small cultural barriers. Although, communication isn’t always effective, especially when Dustin (another intern) calls one of the cows his father.

Church at Ibondo

On Monday we got news that most of our bags made it to the airport, so we took the three hour trip to go pick them up in Mwanza. While we were in town, we waited in the car while Brett had to run some errands. Meanwhile a man came up to our window, trying to talk to us and motioning to open the door. We did our best to tell him we didn’t have any money and couldn’t help, but he wasn’t making any effort to leave. He seemed to be praying or rather putting a curse on us at one point. After about 15 minutes he finally left, right before Brett came back. Later that day, Brett claimed to have paid the man to go up to our car and scare us. I’m still skeptical of this, but it wouldn’t be beyond him to do it. While we were still in Mwanza we had lunch at a delicious Indian restaurant and did class there. Or at least got through most of class before Katie got herself stuck in the bathroom. Lots of laughs.

On Tuesday I witnessed my first and hopefully last animal slaughtering. (For those of you with a weak stomach, you may want to skip this paragraph) It is true that a pig screams when it’s being killed. After the gruesome part was over, it was actually pretty interesting to see the pig dissected. We got to help process the meat and I volunteered for the lovely job of cleaning out the small intestine to use for the casing for sausage. The whole time I kept wondering, how did the first person decide this animal meat would be good to eat? Guess if the Lord said it’s good, it’s good.

*Ironically, the name of the worker who slaughtered the pig was Severini. Clearly he was meant for this job.

Later we were taken on a tour of the demo farm where Brett uses practical techniques and resources that local Tanzanians can use to raise chickens and goats and grow different crops. It’s still a work in progress, but in the near future the food will go to Neema House which is the orphanage that the Groens helped start. We got to visit it today too to meet the kids and house mommas who are currently staying there. They have a few Tanzanian workers who either work full-time or part-time. The goal is for the orphanage to one day be completely run by Tanzanians- with the farm providing money for the orphanage. This way it will be more sustainable and more reliant on local funding.

We almost got kicked out of the country on Wednesday. Kidding… but immigration did try to convince us to pay for a working Visa. After explaining we weren’t actually working but just visiting and observing missionaries, they let us go. On a lighter note, we got to go to the market today and attempt to buy food to practice our Swahili. They love to laugh at our efforts. We came out with plenty of maembe, ndizi, and pinasa, so I consider it a success! (Mango, bananas, and pineapple) All of us interns got to spend time with the Groen’s tonight, eating Alicia’s fantastic feast including a chocolate dessert that reminded me of my mom’s chocolate cobbler (Yours is still better momma J But her sweet potatoes win) I feel more and more at home every day. Thank the Lord!

Earlier we were talking about what it even means to be “ministers of the new covenant” in 2 Corinthians 3-4. If the new covenant is no longer through the law, but through the Spirit, our life’s purpose is to be continually transformed to reflect the Lord’s glory to the world. May we all be filled with the knowledge of the glory of God and want to reflect him more each day

“For the earth will be filled with the KNOWLEDGE of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea” Habakkuk 2:14

Hayley and Harper

Food from the Village

The view from the Indian restaurant 

Our shweet treehouse

The girls house

Severini and his pig head

Yummy intetines

Mzungu Life

We haven’t even been in Geita for a full week and I already feel at home here (minus the ability to have basic conversations with most others).

The journey began with a few long flights with minor… well, somewhat minor… complications. I met up with the four other interns in London to fly with them to Nairobi and then to Mwanza. When we arrived to Nairobi we knew we would have to pick up our checked bags and re-check them, but we didn’t know just how great of a task that would be. We quickly realized that only 3 of our 10 bags made it. (Thankfully, mine was one of them) It’s not too easy to file multiple missing bag reports in another country where the concept of a rolling duffel doesn’t quite translate. After getting all the details figured out, the plan was to meet Brett (one of the missionaries) in the airport so that he could stay the night in the airport with us and fly the last leg to Mwanza. Since dealing with baggage claim shenanigans took quite a bit longer than expected, the airport was technically closed and we weren’t supposed to check in for our 8am flight until the next morning at 7am. Our fearless leader Brett contacted many airport workers to get us in, but airlines in Nairobi apparently have terrible communication. After we explained our situation to at least seven different employees, we eventually made our way across the slightly shady Kenyan parking lot at midnight (don't worry mom, we survived) to the terminal where we finally met Brett. I’ve never been so excited to see a man I’ve never met before in my life. We enjoyed a midnight dinner and milkshake at the Java House in the airport and attempted to sleep in plastic chairs for the next five hours until we boarded. Which meant we each slept maybe a total of one hour. Instead we had breakfast and coffee then jumped on the last short flight to finally arrive in Tanzania. Here we found that of the three bags remaining, zero made the trip. Guess this is what Jesus meant when he said do not take a purse or bag or sandals/Chacos when you go into the harvest field. (Come to find we may have helped uncover some international smuggling in the process. Apparently they were loading other boxes onto our plane, which left no room for passengers' luggage.)

With nothing but our carry-ons and newly stamped passports, we hopped into a van to head to another one of the missionary’s house for the afternoon. Driving in Tanzania is a journey in and of itself. With seemingly no real traffic laws, people pass whenever they want and pedestrians crowd both sides of the road and walk across when they have the closest break. Eventually we made it to the house where we met Brett’s wife Christie, their three kids- Baylor (age 4), Harper (2), and Cohen (3ish months)- and the Millers. I felt welcomed as the girls started playing with us and drawing us Dora pictures. The start to real friendships. We went to downtown Mwanza for Brett to run some errands and had the chance to wander on our own. This was just a tad frightening considering we were the only Mzungu (white people). Our fears were eased when we met a younger boy and girl who attempted to talk to us with the two Swahili words we knew-hello and banana. Their simple smiles made us feel welcome, but generally this wasn’t the case. We also met a boy named John who spoke English and showed us his artwork. Our first friend. Later that evening the Harrisons took us out to dinner at a really delicious Chinese restaurant on Lake Victoria, where I ate even more than I do on a regular basis in America. (At first this seemed odd to me, but I soon realized that they want to take us to these places when we have the chance to and honor us as their guests. I say this so you’re not surprised at the many delicious meals I will potentially write about, because I certainly have had just as much good food here as I have back home). Another missionary family that they partner with in Mwanza ate dinner with us. It was neat to see how all these families that are spread out between Geita and Mwanza connect and work together in supporting each other. Even just to have other kids for their children to spend time with is so good, since most are homeschooled. After dinner, the interns stayed at a hotel in hopes that some of our luggage would come the next day. Jet lag was hitting hard at this point so we filtered our water and went to bed. For 11 hours.

The next morning was our first adventure with Tanzanian breakfast. The only surprising thing was noodles. Unfortunately none of us had syrup up our sleeve (for those of you Elf fans). Two of our bags made it to Mwanza, so we picked those up and decided to head on to Geita where we’d be living this summer. It was about a three hour trip including a ferry ride. As soon as we made it to the Harrison’s, it felt like home. Other than having limited access to internet and not being certain we’d have water the next day, it really is as beautiful and welcoming as any house in the states. Not to mention they are growing all kinds of fruit trees in the backyard. One of the things I’ve learned is that these families are still families. They play soccer in their backyard, watch movies together, and have cookouts with their friends. Being a missionary isn’t a project, it’s just life. They live alongside the people and simply model a life that seeks to glorify God, be it through the way they treat their workers or through learning practical agriculture techniques. These acts of love are every bit as important as studying God’s Word with people, provided that they point to Christ and not to ourselves.

Christie spends a lot of time cooking for the family with one of the workers named Margaret. This first night they made taco soup with homemade tortilla chips. The chips were significantly better than any Mexican restaurant I’d been to. It was this night that I realized how thankful I am to be with this group after talking with the other interns and Brett for hours. Aaand after we survived a potentially fatal spider attack. (Except the spider wasn’t poisonous. It did sneak its way into my water bottle, which could’ve caused Katie to have a massive heart attack, but thankfully I saw it first and no one was harmed. Except the spider)

These first few days of internship have basically been spent in Swahili and culture class. We can now (somewhat) successfully carry on a 10 second conversation in Swahili, and then smile and laugh for another 10 seconds until they realize we don’t quite understand. The few Tanzanians we’ve talked to have been helpful though! It’s been really interesting learning about worldviews and African traditional religion. More than anything I’ve learned how in any culture, it takes time to understand why things work the way they do to be able to see how to reach out to the people. For instance, time is viewed very differently in the U.S. and in Africa (and other countries for that matter). Here, timing is controlled by events, where in America it’s controlled by a clock. So if someone shows up an hour late to church, Americans would start on time to stick to the schedule people expected, whereas Tanzanians would wait until everyone was there for the event to respect the person. Neither is wrong because both come out of respect for people, but knowing this changes how we engage a new place. Lessons like this have challenged my way of thinking and opened all of us to see the Lord work in different ways than we expect.

All of us interns on the ferry

Our home! And lovely "bus"

Baylor and I playing with her stuffed bear named "Avocado"

Lake Victoria

Leaving the nest

Well. Time to test out these wings of mine. Tomorrow begins the journey to Geita, Tanzania where I and four other interns will be spending two months living and working alongside two missionary families. But really the journey began long ago as the Lord has been preparing all of us for this before we knew He was. So tomorrow just marks the beginning of our physical journey. Four countries and two days later, we'll arrive at our new home! Bring on the Dramamine and airplane pretzels.

I can't say I know exactly what to expect. Or what to expect at all. But that's what I'm most excited about! I'm ready to not rely on the comfort of the known- caring friends, a comfortable home, my loving family, and peanut butter and banana toast for breakfast. I am and always will be grateful for these things, but I also know they can't sustain me. The One who does strengthen us and provide for us and protect us has been beside me this whole time and will continue to walk with me (or fly, if we're sticking with the bird reference). I'm excited to see how the Lord continues to strengthen my wings and catch me when they're weak.