Strength and Weakness. Among the many lessons I’ve learned in Kenya, none have been as profound as the lesson of strength and weakness. After comparing my personal lifestyle - access to education and healthcare, the ability to earn a quality living, and friends and associates with like capabilities - to the lifestyle of many Kenyans, I have had to reassess my understanding of strength and weakness.
The grandmother of a child sponsored by the Umoja project is a woman that would be considered weak by most standards. She has a medical condition which has left her morbidly obese and growing larger daily. She is unable to walk more than a few steps at a time. She experiences great pain in her lower back, underarms, and legs. Many days she’ll crawl outside in an attempt to split wood, pick beans from the garden, or do other things to prepare food for her two orphaned grandchildren. Her attempts usually cause her to stay outside for long periods of time, laying stretched out on the ground calling for a passerby to come to her aid. When no-one hears or responds to her pleas for help, she lays there, unable to muster enough physical strength to get back into the house, reach the latrine, or feed herself. She simply waits for her nine year old grandson to come home from school, find her somewhere in the yard behind the house, help her to her destination, prepare food for her and ensure she eats it. Certainly, by most standards this lady would be considered weak.
As I walk around, living life, interacting with people, I’ve always considered myself strong (as has popular culture). I am a relatively healthy 28 year old man. I have the ability to walk, run, and jump as I please. I’m well traveled and well educated. I’ve worked prestigious jobs. I have a bachelors degree in electrical engineering, a masters degree in organizational management, and I am currently working on a Masters of Divinity degree. Yet with all my educational accomplishments and physical abilities, which provide an illusion of strength, I have been too weak to assist this grandmother in need. I’ve donated food to the grandmother, and I’ve contributed to paying a utility bill. I’ve even funded and helped organize a project to secure her front and back doors from the thieves who frequently break into the home and take what little the grandmother owns. However, I’ve done nothing to help with the heart of the issue that has plagued this lady and unsettled the grandchildren who live with her.
Certainly a weakness exist in the midst of my perceived strength. I’ve only demonstrated the strength to do what is comfortable, to perform deeds and donate funds out of the abundance I have received. Yet, when confronted with the realization that more is needed, that the work I’ve done has slightly reduced but has not removed her ailments, I find within myself a weakness that beckons me to walk away. This weakness inclines me to think that I’ve done enough, that my donation has been sufficient, that the ailment of this Christian woman is not my problem, that another person should take responsibility. If I agree with this weak voice within my flesh I will be able to just walk away. I’ll continue living life, purchasing itunes, ipods, ibooks, and iphones, making imovies, talking on ichat, and living life to satisfy me, myself, and I. Meanwhile, this grandmother will continue life as she has been - suffering daily, excreting her bodily fluids on herself, missing meals while struggling to feed herself after she feeds her grandchildren – until the evermore probable day when she is overcome by her treatable illness, leaving her already orphaned grandchildren totally without a guardian.
What manner of weakness is this that would allow me to walk away from such a dire situation. Through a few brief conversations with the grandmother I have learned that her condition is reoccurring. She has been treated before but her last attempt at medical help was thwarted 5 years ago when she lacked the equivalent of roughly $475 US to cover the cost of treatment. Surely the cost of treatment today will have escalated in proportion to her deteriorated health status. Still, I know I would easily spend 10 times this amount if I experienced a portion of what she suffers. The reality is I spend almost 3 times this amount annually in medical insurance just in case I get sick.
An honest re-evaluation of strength and weakness brings me to the conclusion that I am weaker than I have ever understood. I have been strong enough to wear nice clothes, shoes, coats, and suites while being weak enough to allow others to lack basic healthcare. I have been strong enough to vacation several times a year, entertain myself through movies and shows often, but I have lacked the strength to aid a Christian widow in need. Strong enough to study the work of scholars, write essays, and complete masters degrees, while being so week that I could witness the helpless struggles of another without sensing a necessity to act. I have been strong enough in faith to receive revelation that Jesus Christ is Lord, understand and heed God's call to church leadership, but I have been too weak in the faith to trust God to provide for me as I provide for others. I have been strong enough to accept scholarships and other forms of support at the sacrifice of others, but too weak to make substantial sacrifices of myself. Strong enough to take but too weak to give; to weak to sacrifice a portion of my luxuries so another can have necessities. Strong enough to pray, but too weak to act, so weak in fact that I'll speak from my comfort and tell the suffering to be strong, to endure a little longer, to look elsewhere for help.
How can I stand in the judgment, knowing that "faith without works is dead" (Jas 2:20)? Perhaps I had forgotten the story of Lazarus. Not the Lazarus Jesus raised from the dead, but the Lazarus who was full of sores and was laid at the rich man's gate begging the rich man to give the leftovers from his abundance. Upon both Lazarus's and the rich man's death, the rich man found himself suffering in Hades begging for Lazarus to help. But it was responded to the rich man, "Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things: but now he is comforted and you are tormented" (Luke 16:25). James echo's this point when he writes, "For judgment is without mercy to the one who has shown no mercy...if a brother or sister is naked and destitute of daily food, And one of you says 'Depart in peace be warmed and filled' but you do not give them the things which are needed for the body, what does it profit? (Jas 2:13-16)
The Christian call is a call of giving. First, giving our lives to Christ - recognizing that we are in the need of mercy, crying out for God’s forgiveness, and submitting ourselves to God‘s will. Second, giving ourselves to benefit the Christian body and perform the will of God. Thus it is only right to give out of our abundant blessings from God to those who are experiencing hardships. Paul reminds the Corinthian church of this when urges them to help the famished saints in Jerusalem writing, “But by an equality, that now at this time your abundance may supply their lack, that their abundance also may supply your lack - that there may be equality. As it is written, ‘He who gathered much had nothing left over, and he who gathered little had no lack. (II Cor 8:14- 15). Paul later reminds them of the reality that, “He who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and he who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. (II Cor 9:6).
How can I expect, or even desire, a bountiful harvest when I am only willing to give little? Moreover, how can I consider myself strong when I find myself too weak to sacrifice? Was not the strength of Jesus in the sacrifice of His will, “being obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross” (Phil 2:8)? If strength is defined as the ability to perform an act, then perhaps I am strong and the widowed grandmother caring for her grandchildren is weak. But if strength is defined by measuring our actions as a factor of our abilities then I am weak and the widowed woman caring for her grandchildren is strong, for I am able to do much, yet I have done little. I pray then for the strength of the widowed grandmother, who enduring disease and great pain does beyond what seems possible for the benefit of another . Surely it has been the Spirit of God within me that is working against this fleshly weakness, prompting me to give more, share more, and love more; urging me to use a portion of my abilities to assist a woman utilizing her total ability to help raise two orphaned and vulnerable children.
By Darriel Harris
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
The Coat
When I returned back to Rosalia's from the rainforest one of her nieces had come to visit for the weekend. She grew up in Nairobi, and is fairly "westernized." It felt odd to hear talking about the new movie "Angels and Deamons" and going to the mall. However, she was quick to inform me that she still enjoys the traditions of her culture.
Last night she told me that she had a pen-pal from the Netherlands. It is a quite lovely story about how they "met." Rita was out one day and out of the corner of her I she saw a coat. She said it was "the most beautiful coast she had seen with no tears or stains." So, she bought it from the second hand shop on the street. She said that after she ahd worn it for about a year she noticed that on the tag there was a name of the coat's previous owner. So, Rita sent her a letter saying that she had her coat, and thought it was so beautiful. She told her she would continue to take good care of it.
A few months later Rita recieved a reply fro the girl living in the Netherlands. She said that she ahd loved that coat and taken good care of it until she lost it. However, when Rita asked the girl if she wanted her to return it, she told Rita she wanted her to have it now. The girls became friends and swapped letters for quite sometime. Rita said she would wait for two or three months, and would be so excited when another letter came. The girl in the Netherlands told Rita she was very sick with leukemia. So, they decided to mail each other pictures in case they were never able to meet. When I began this story I told you that Rita "had," a pen-pal. That is because when the girl was fifteen years old her parents wrote Rita one last letter saying that she had died.
I was amazed at Rita's story, her sense of adventure, her maturity as she talked of her friend afar having to deal with death at such a young age. It is amazing where initaiting communication may take us. Let us not be afraid to say "I think I have a coat of yours" or even just "hello."
Last night she told me that she had a pen-pal from the Netherlands. It is a quite lovely story about how they "met." Rita was out one day and out of the corner of her I she saw a coat. She said it was "the most beautiful coast she had seen with no tears or stains." So, she bought it from the second hand shop on the street. She said that after she ahd worn it for about a year she noticed that on the tag there was a name of the coat's previous owner. So, Rita sent her a letter saying that she had her coat, and thought it was so beautiful. She told her she would continue to take good care of it.
A few months later Rita recieved a reply fro the girl living in the Netherlands. She said that she ahd loved that coat and taken good care of it until she lost it. However, when Rita asked the girl if she wanted her to return it, she told Rita she wanted her to have it now. The girls became friends and swapped letters for quite sometime. Rita said she would wait for two or three months, and would be so excited when another letter came. The girl in the Netherlands told Rita she was very sick with leukemia. So, they decided to mail each other pictures in case they were never able to meet. When I began this story I told you that Rita "had," a pen-pal. That is because when the girl was fifteen years old her parents wrote Rita one last letter saying that she had died.
I was amazed at Rita's story, her sense of adventure, her maturity as she talked of her friend afar having to deal with death at such a young age. It is amazing where initaiting communication may take us. Let us not be afraid to say "I think I have a coat of yours" or even just "hello."
Journey to the Tropical Rainforest of Kenya
Went on a four hour hike in the Kakamega rainforest. Saw beautiful flora and fauna. Enjoyed the cool, wet climate created by the canopy, as light would sometimes seep in sparkling streams to the ground floor. Alighted at the Yellow River. Splahed and played. Walked through a guava forest in which monkeys and baboons like hang out and enjoy the fruits together. Made it back to our starting point rewardingly tired and hungry.
Search for the Grail
The grail I was searching for was not a golden chalice.It is rather a group of lay women in the Catholic church, who desire to serve the community in which they live. This past week I have been staying with a lady named Rosalia, who is a member of this grail society. She lives with three children she has adopted and another lady named Rose-Josephine who works at the community college at the grail center. Life here is different than with my first host family. Different, but good none-the-less. There is no electricty, and so the mornings start by lantern light. The roosters stay in the house at night, and because there are no ceilings over the rooms, their crows could be heard loud and clear beginning at 5:00 am. It would crow for aout an hour and then I would get upand join the family for morning prayers at 6:00 am (p-jamas, disheveled hair, and all). Shortly after that the children would be off to school, and we would have hot tea and pb&j for breakfast (a good comfort food). Then we would get ready to head out for our daily activities.
When we returned in the evenings we would sit around cooking and talking by lantern light, have evening prayer, eat together, and then clean together (when they would let me help). With such a late supper (around 9:30 pm) the day did not usually end until 10:30 or 11:00. Work, school, cooking, cleaning all have to be done. Rural life might be slow paced, but it is always moving and at the end of the day you find yourself tired.
When we returned in the evenings we would sit around cooking and talking by lantern light, have evening prayer, eat together, and then clean together (when they would let me help). With such a late supper (around 9:30 pm) the day did not usually end until 10:30 or 11:00. Work, school, cooking, cleaning all have to be done. Rural life might be slow paced, but it is always moving and at the end of the day you find yourself tired.
Food
I have eaten...
- ugali.
- a coconut on the side of the road smashed open by a nice man with a hammer.
- a female fish at Tilapia Beach.
- a plate of guacamole (I made it for my host family to taste, but they thought it was a meal. oops;)
- many meals with my fingers.
- dirt (Aparently the soil has calcium in it, and so they sell it at the market.)
- a chicken that sat clucking in my lap the day before.
- greens called sumawiki.
- chipatis (one of my favorites).
- cow intrails (not my favorite).
- many mangoes, avacodos, papayas, bananas, and pinapple.
- a lot.
- Aiyen (translation = I am full in dhu-luo).
- I have also taken many cups of tea. At an average of three a day I am up to about 63 cups and counting. Fortunately it is milk tea, and quite nice.
- ugali.
- a coconut on the side of the road smashed open by a nice man with a hammer.
- a female fish at Tilapia Beach.
- a plate of guacamole (I made it for my host family to taste, but they thought it was a meal. oops;)
- many meals with my fingers.
- dirt (Aparently the soil has calcium in it, and so they sell it at the market.)
- a chicken that sat clucking in my lap the day before.
- greens called sumawiki.
- chipatis (one of my favorites).
- cow intrails (not my favorite).
- many mangoes, avacodos, papayas, bananas, and pinapple.
- a lot.
- Aiyen (translation = I am full in dhu-luo).
- I have also taken many cups of tea. At an average of three a day I am up to about 63 cups and counting. Fortunately it is milk tea, and quite nice.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Life in the Village
After about 2.5 weeks in Kenya we moved in with families in the Chulaimbo area. I live weith a very big family on a compound in the village. By compound, I mean a fenced in area with five houses. "Mama Rhoda" is the mama of the house. She lives in the house at the top of the hill and everone living in the other houses are in and out of her house for breakfast and dinner. There are about 10-15 people coming and going from her house each day.Included in that number are two adorable kids, Collins (age 7) and Glory (age 5). They were both very shy at the start, but after my attempts at speaking very broken Dho-luo, sharing my yo-yo, and playing games with them (like drawing pictures on the ground with tree twings)they finally warmed up to me. Actually,I found out that there English is really quite good.
Glory's mom and Moma Rhoda's daughter-in-law, Josephine, is only a couple of years older than I, and has taken it upon herself to show me around the village. She has shown me the garden, let me help feed and water the chikens, taught me how to cook ugali, and made me watch chiken preparation (which included the plucking and the gutting). The other night we had a really splendid time in the kitchen. Josephine taught me a fun song and dance that she learned in secondary school and I taught her the Cupid Shuffle. The ladies cooking supper also joined in as we closed the curtains in the kitchen and danced and laughed the night away.
Bercons, who is the brother-in-law to Mama Rhoda, has also taken me around the village. He and I have been going to visit the elderly who are sick and are no longer able to make it to church. Much in the same way that I did house visits at my plcement last summer. It seems that lonliness is a universal struggle. However, often times here the older "Mamas" still have family living with them.
Along with Glory and Collins there are two even more recent additions to the family. One is a little girl about 3 weeks old, and the other is a little boy, born the day after I arrived at the house. I met Juliet 9 months pregnant, and rode with her to the hospital. A few days later she came home with a beautiful baby boy named David. That same day she ahd her baby I also went to my first African funeral. It was a graveside service with many speaches, mourners dressed in white, and lots of food. It was a day where people spoke both of new life on earth and in heaven.
Glory's mom and Moma Rhoda's daughter-in-law, Josephine, is only a couple of years older than I, and has taken it upon herself to show me around the village. She has shown me the garden, let me help feed and water the chikens, taught me how to cook ugali, and made me watch chiken preparation (which included the plucking and the gutting). The other night we had a really splendid time in the kitchen. Josephine taught me a fun song and dance that she learned in secondary school and I taught her the Cupid Shuffle. The ladies cooking supper also joined in as we closed the curtains in the kitchen and danced and laughed the night away.
Bercons, who is the brother-in-law to Mama Rhoda, has also taken me around the village. He and I have been going to visit the elderly who are sick and are no longer able to make it to church. Much in the same way that I did house visits at my plcement last summer. It seems that lonliness is a universal struggle. However, often times here the older "Mamas" still have family living with them.
Along with Glory and Collins there are two even more recent additions to the family. One is a little girl about 3 weeks old, and the other is a little boy, born the day after I arrived at the house. I met Juliet 9 months pregnant, and rode with her to the hospital. A few days later she came home with a beautiful baby boy named David. That same day she ahd her baby I also went to my first African funeral. It was a graveside service with many speaches, mourners dressed in white, and lots of food. It was a day where people spoke both of new life on earth and in heaven.
"Only A Hippopaotamus Will Do"
I want a hippopatamus for Christmas. Only a hippopotamus will do...
A catchy song, but a silly girl. Doesn't she know the hippo is the number two killer in Africa. Second only to the itsy bitsy misquito. (However, if the mosquito and the hippo were i a wrestling match I think the 3.5 ton hippo would win. So, perhaps they should be tied for number one.)
A catchy song, but a silly girl. Doesn't she know the hippo is the number two killer in Africa. Second only to the itsy bitsy misquito. (However, if the mosquito and the hippo were i a wrestling match I think the 3.5 ton hippo would win. So, perhaps they should be tied for number one.)
Friday, July 3, 2009
MIzungoo
"Mizungoo." This is what the children shout when they see a white person walking down the road. It is interesting being in the minority here. I am so grateful that everyone here has been more than welcoming. How hard it would be to stick out like a marker in a box of crayons, if the people were not welcoming. It makes me even more aware of the importance of welcoming the stranger while remembering that you were once a stranger in a foreign land (Leviticus). Something to take back home.
Called into the Principle's Office
Growing up you never wanted to be called in for a meeting with the principle. Well, the other day i was called in for a meeting with ten principles. However, this was much more pleasant than such a scenario would have been in elementary school. The principles, or head teachers as they are called here, had gathered with Joseph and Ellen to discuss the lunch feeding program sponsored by the UMOJA project.
The teachers expressed appreciation for the improved performance of the students, and the increased rate of retention. They said that the students were staying in school, because they did not have to search for food, and they said the students were performing better because they could pay better attention when they were not constantly thinking about being hungry.
Joseph facilitated the discussion well, and encouraged people to talk about what worked well with the program, but also to bring up their concerns. Many teachers expressed worries about making the food supply last to the end of the month. So, the principles from the schools who were not having these problems shared what they were doing with the other principles. They discussed ways in which they supplemented the food that they were given with vegetables they grew, and how they carefully rationed the food, so that none was wasted. These principles talked about how they wanted the community to cary much of the responsibility for feeding the children along with the UMOJA project. That way, if UMOJA is not available to help in the future it will be alright, because the schools are striving toward self-sustainability. In regards to the principles helping one another one said, "We may continue to compete in all facets academic, but when it comes to feeding and caring for the children we must work together and share ideas."
It was wonderful seeing the schools working together for a common good. Again, so much can be accomplished from a desire for umoja (unity). That was by far the bet visit to the principle's office that I've ever had!
The teachers expressed appreciation for the improved performance of the students, and the increased rate of retention. They said that the students were staying in school, because they did not have to search for food, and they said the students were performing better because they could pay better attention when they were not constantly thinking about being hungry.
Joseph facilitated the discussion well, and encouraged people to talk about what worked well with the program, but also to bring up their concerns. Many teachers expressed worries about making the food supply last to the end of the month. So, the principles from the schools who were not having these problems shared what they were doing with the other principles. They discussed ways in which they supplemented the food that they were given with vegetables they grew, and how they carefully rationed the food, so that none was wasted. These principles talked about how they wanted the community to cary much of the responsibility for feeding the children along with the UMOJA project. That way, if UMOJA is not available to help in the future it will be alright, because the schools are striving toward self-sustainability. In regards to the principles helping one another one said, "We may continue to compete in all facets academic, but when it comes to feeding and caring for the children we must work together and share ideas."
It was wonderful seeing the schools working together for a common good. Again, so much can be accomplished from a desire for umoja (unity). That was by far the bet visit to the principle's office that I've ever had!
A Kenyan Field Trip
Summer Field Education Reflection 2009: A Kenyan Field Trip
Tuesday morning we arose before the sun had blinked an eye, and set off for a ferry to carry us across Lake Victoria. I should first clarify the “we” of which I am speaking. The group adventuring on this fine Tuesday morning was comprised of nine youth and their pen-pals from the secondary schools that the UMOJA project supports. Also along for the journey were a few scraggly interns (myself included), and some chaperones.
After taking the ferry we reached an island in the middle of Lake Victoria, and our first stop on the island was the ICIPE (International Center of Insect Physiology and Ecology) compound. One of the researchers at the compound took us for a tour and taught us about their new plant “technology.” Aren’t plants the first things that come to mind when you hear the word technology?
The researcher proceeded to tell us about the “push-pull” strategy of farming. Using this strategy the farmers plant Napier grass around the edge of the maize field to attract (pull) the weeds (striga) and insects (stemborers) out and they plant desmodium in among the maize to repell (push) the insects out. The desmodium plant also deposits nitrogen into the ground thus re-fertilizing the soil. This seminar was designed to be a fun way for the students to learn applicable science. Steven, one of the students from the UMOJA project, was enjoying this opportunity to learn so much that tears filled his eyes when it was time to leave. He did not know our learning would continue as we would journey in a boa to see the rock art that the students had already learned about in their form 2 (sophomore) history class.
Steven is truly an amazing you person. Before the UMOJA project began sponsoring his school fees, he was working, pulling weeds, to try to raise money for secondary school (high school). He was not able to raise the funds, but fortunately someone told Joseph, the director of the project in Kenya, about this hardworking student. Both of Steven’s parents died when he was younger, and he lives with his grandmother. Everyday when he gets home from school, around 5:00pm or 6:00pm, he helps take care of his grandmother and tends to household chores. At 10:00pm he goes to bed, and at 2:00am he wakes up to begin his studies. He leaves for school around 5:00am to start the routine all over again. Steven’s hard work is paying off, because he is in the top of his class. When it came time to buy his school uniform he thanked the people from UMOJA for paying his school fees, and told them he could use the money he had earned and saved to buy his school uniform.
Steven’s desire to learn has reminded me what a privilege it is to be in school. This year one of my professors would often remind our class that it was a privilege to be studyi8ng in Divinity School. I trusted and headed these words, but this summer they have really come to life in Steven’s story. Experience is an invaluable teacher. That is why I am here in Kenya this summer, and that is why we went on a field trip with the students from the UMOJA project.
Tuesday morning we arose before the sun had blinked an eye, and set off for a ferry to carry us across Lake Victoria. I should first clarify the “we” of which I am speaking. The group adventuring on this fine Tuesday morning was comprised of nine youth and their pen-pals from the secondary schools that the UMOJA project supports. Also along for the journey were a few scraggly interns (myself included), and some chaperones.
After taking the ferry we reached an island in the middle of Lake Victoria, and our first stop on the island was the ICIPE (International Center of Insect Physiology and Ecology) compound. One of the researchers at the compound took us for a tour and taught us about their new plant “technology.” Aren’t plants the first things that come to mind when you hear the word technology?
The researcher proceeded to tell us about the “push-pull” strategy of farming. Using this strategy the farmers plant Napier grass around the edge of the maize field to attract (pull) the weeds (striga) and insects (stemborers) out and they plant desmodium in among the maize to repell (push) the insects out. The desmodium plant also deposits nitrogen into the ground thus re-fertilizing the soil. This seminar was designed to be a fun way for the students to learn applicable science. Steven, one of the students from the UMOJA project, was enjoying this opportunity to learn so much that tears filled his eyes when it was time to leave. He did not know our learning would continue as we would journey in a boa to see the rock art that the students had already learned about in their form 2 (sophomore) history class.
Steven is truly an amazing you person. Before the UMOJA project began sponsoring his school fees, he was working, pulling weeds, to try to raise money for secondary school (high school). He was not able to raise the funds, but fortunately someone told Joseph, the director of the project in Kenya, about this hardworking student. Both of Steven’s parents died when he was younger, and he lives with his grandmother. Everyday when he gets home from school, around 5:00pm or 6:00pm, he helps take care of his grandmother and tends to household chores. At 10:00pm he goes to bed, and at 2:00am he wakes up to begin his studies. He leaves for school around 5:00am to start the routine all over again. Steven’s hard work is paying off, because he is in the top of his class. When it came time to buy his school uniform he thanked the people from UMOJA for paying his school fees, and told them he could use the money he had earned and saved to buy his school uniform.
Steven’s desire to learn has reminded me what a privilege it is to be in school. This year one of my professors would often remind our class that it was a privilege to be studyi8ng in Divinity School. I trusted and headed these words, but this summer they have really come to life in Steven’s story. Experience is an invaluable teacher. That is why I am here in Kenya this summer, and that is why we went on a field trip with the students from the UMOJA project.
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