Let the Children Come

Our parade.

Adventures ensue with my travel mama, Alwine, Rainer, Irene & Miguel (the Spanish volunteers)! Visible from just outside the compound is what's known as 'the hill.' (I'm sure it has a more official name), which is about an hour and a half walk from us. Along with Honorada, the sisters' cook, we left the compound around 11am, while the air was still fresh and sweet, especially in the shade. But this is Kenya and it soon became extremely hot.

An hour into the walk, we arrived at Anne's house, who works in the production unit & was our guide for the day. The children around her nyumba  quickly pulled up chairs and a table for us, then came the large thermos of chai and boiled arrow root.  Sitting in the shade, chatting was very pleasant, but there was still a lot of trekking ahead of us.

Some of the children who walked with me.

From this point, we suddenly grew in number as more and more people joined us for our walk up the hill. Anne, her daughter, sister, nieces, nephews and children from the village joined us. Our group had gone from seven to around 20. At first, the children just stared at us (there were 5 wazungu in one group..) but as we rose up the hill, they became more outgoing.

One girl, Paris, began as the spokesperson for all the children. She was confident and had excellent English. She was the first to ask for her picture to be taken..the rest obviously followed. After our little photo shoot, I had lost my original group and was surrounded by children. I was pretty ok with it.

Once we broke through the tree line, the hill rose steeply and the sun beat mercilessly down on us. I was panting (and embarrassed) as the children walked past me. As always, the final stretch was the most strenuous, but the reward was worth it. The slopes of Mt. Kenya lay before us, with patches of sunlight and shadow caused by the fluffy clouds. It was a wonderful sight!

After resting for a while up top, we descended the hill on the other side. The path was not really a path, so the rowdy boys ran all over trying to find the best way down. I happily stayed in the rear of the group with the younger girls. One of them, Gloria, was an incredibly sweet girl of about eight. Her shoes were not appropriate for the steep, rocky hillside, so it took her a long time to climb down. At one point, we became separated from the rest of the group. She said I didn't walk very fast, but, I told her, I was walking with her. She smiled and from that point was constantly by my side.

'Jesus'..Gloria is on my right, in the striped shirt.

After we got to the bottom, all the children informed me that we were going to see Jesus. Logically, I expected to be taken to a church. Instead, we arrived at these sand towers that radiated heat. The kids all ran around, climbing all over them. I'm still not sure why they call them Jesus...

As we returned to Anne's, I was beginning to feel comfortable with the group of children that surrounded me. I felt like Don Bosco--a friend of the youth. As we said good-bye to them, I felt quite content with the way Jesus had blessed my hike that day.

With Jesus in the Desert

What sacrifice are you making for Lent? Is it to give something up, add prayer or make a resolution? Every year, I try to find something for each category, in order to celebrate the season of Lent fully.

This year, everything is flipped upside down. Instead of living in excess (like so many Americans do), I live very simply here: no sweets, little Internet, zero Netflix, etc. I also attend daily Mass, rosary and have time for personal prayer. Since being in Kenya, I have felt like I've been in Lent the whole time! The comforts I'm so used to are absent from my life, which has allowed me to love my neighbor better and discover God more easily.

But, I'm a rule-follower, so I was determined to find something I could sacrifice. Ash Wednesday was fast approaching and I still was unsure what could be trimmed out of my life. On Fat Tuesday, we journeyed over sand and stone for hours, while dust puffed in through the cracks in the vehicle, settling in every crease. The greatest feast at that moment was the cold water and soda waiting for us in North Horr.

The next day, my body was tired and trying to adjust to the weather. Normally, Ash Wednesday would be a time for fasting and prayer, but at that time I was too exhausted to make an effort in prayer. Instead, the events that unfurled for me were my prayer!

For example, we didn't have traditional fasting on Ash Wednesday. Since we had just returned from down Kenya, the sisters had to eat the fruit and veggies that we brought before they spoiled. So, I was told to eat well. Then, that evening after Mass, we went to the oasis in the middle of the desert, a project by the Salesian fathers. They had built a swimming pool, lounge area and sold cold drinks. I was overjoyed to get to swim! The water was cool and refreshing, the company was fun and engaging and my heart was content.

North Horr is actually an oasis itself--
they have no water problems!

As the stars and moon began to shine, I floated on my back, feeling guilty for having such a great time on a day that should be full of sacrifice. Yet, God

My sketch from the pool. It was one of those things
a camera cannot capture.

was listening to me. In that moment, I realized the significance of this Lent: I needed to discover the oasis in the desert. Instead of giving something up, I was asked to search for the joy in the midst of sacrifice. Sometimes, this is harder. It requires constant effort to find reasons to be grateful when living on mission. It goes beyond "don't eat chocolate" to "find Jesus, especially in the desert."



So far, I have been amazed at how beautiful and present God has been during this Lent. Sure, most of my meals consist of beans, maize, and cabbage, but sometimes we have chocolate (for Women's Day). And maybe it is difficult to communicate with friends and family back home, but I have made some great friends here in Kenya. And maybe the water in Embu rarely issues from the pipes, but there is beauty in experiencing poverty that is a reality for many people.

This Lent, I am excited to continue to be with Jesus in the desert and discovering the oasis of His mercy.

Adventure is the Name of the Game

If this picture doesn't spell 'adventure,' I'm not sure what does!

This past week, while the girls went on midterm break, I had the opportunity to head up north to the desert with Alwine and Rainer. I was excited to see even more of Kenya (although it is disputed if it is actually Kenya past Marsabit) and experience a new culture.

Jumping for joy on the sand dune!

We set off last Monday with a rough idea of what would unfold. But this wasn't an ordinary trip--it was divinely appointed. God perfectly planned our trip, without worrying us about the details. The night we arrived in Karare, the sisters there told us that the private driver would be heading to North Horr the next day and we should go with him. So we had only a quick stop over in the semi-arid desert before heading back to the 'road' to head up to North Horr. Alwine and I had a fun little game called "adventure." Whenever something was uncomfortable: we said adventure. New and exciting: adventure. Total surprise: adventure. Basically, anything is an adventure when you're putting your vacation in God's hands.

Watching some women build a new manyata.

Much of the first day and a half in the desert was adventure, without the fun. It was hot and windy and sunny and dusty. At first, there wasn't much to do. We spent the first day sitting around, trying to figure out how to keep our hair from blowing everywhere. By Wednesday night, we were able to go to the swimming pool after Mass. As I swam around, feeling refreshed by the cool water and watching the stars pop out of the vast desert sky, a great peace entered me.

From that moment on, my time in the desert was wonderful. Sure there were more unpleasant 'adventures' (like a scorpion in my room), but I felt so relaxed. Much of this was due to the company. Sr. Anisia and Sr. Jackie are wonderful--they laugh easily, love deeply and know how to make others feel welcome. I also made friends with Philipo (artist) and Dan (dj, driver, everything else) who work for the fathers there. We played music, hung out, discussed culture and just had fun together. The Gabra tribe that lives there is still very vibrant. Their dress, homes, music, and customs are largely pre-westernization. Although they were shy of us wazungu (foreigners), they were very friendly.

This will not be a trip I am likely to forget soon! Based on the joy and peace I experienced up there, I know God had it planned for me. We ended up staying 5 days in North Horr, something that made Alwine and I smile as we simultaneously said, "adventure."

Embu is in the middle of the map, Karare is just below Marsabit
and North Horr is in between Marsabit and Lodwar.