Feb 27, 2011
Feb 25, 2011
speaking of creepy creatures
Two bats flew into my bedroom the other night. Two large hairy scary bats! I screamed. Thankfully they flew out.
Note to self: at dusk be sure the curtains are drawn or the bats will fly in!
I love sleeping with my windows open and a cool breeze coming in. The crickets drown out any sounds of the city. The crazy jungle birds wake me up at dawn.
How can anyone not be in love with Africa?
Note to self: at dusk be sure the curtains are drawn or the bats will fly in!
I love sleeping with my windows open and a cool breeze coming in. The crickets drown out any sounds of the city. The crazy jungle birds wake me up at dawn.
How can anyone not be in love with Africa?
hot, hot, eggs
Friday mornings in the office begin with an all staff devotion time. Followed by an all staff hot breakfast. I like Fridays.
Friday breakfasts have included french toast, samosas, homemade cinnamon rolls, fried eggs on toast, homemade donuts, and today - hard boiled eggs. HOT hard boiled eggs. The tips of my fingers are a bit blistery as I just couldn't wait for that warm, buttery salty breakfast. Mmmm.
I like it here.
Yesterday I thought I was bit by a snake on my walk into work. There was this sharp puncture on my heel that made me jump. My ankle swelled and when I got to the office it was covered in blood. I cleaned it and couldn't find any puncture wounds. Maybe it wasn't a snake bite; maybe just a thorn. And considering I'm alive and very well, I highly doubt my suspicions were true. Too bad, would have made for a great blog story. Then this morning on my walk in, I slipped. On something very slippery. It actually WAS a snake!! Ewe. I wish I had taken a picture, I think it was dead. But since I hate snakes I steadied myself and quickly sprinted away. It was most definitely a snake though. Do they have little green mambas in Nairobi? I don't know. I should find out. It looked like one.
Ok, so the snake has nothing to do with my breakfast eggs this morning. And in spite of the slimy green creature I'd rather not see first thing in my day, I do really like it here. Very much. :-)
Friday breakfasts have included french toast, samosas, homemade cinnamon rolls, fried eggs on toast, homemade donuts, and today - hard boiled eggs. HOT hard boiled eggs. The tips of my fingers are a bit blistery as I just couldn't wait for that warm, buttery salty breakfast. Mmmm.
I like it here.
Yesterday I thought I was bit by a snake on my walk into work. There was this sharp puncture on my heel that made me jump. My ankle swelled and when I got to the office it was covered in blood. I cleaned it and couldn't find any puncture wounds. Maybe it wasn't a snake bite; maybe just a thorn. And considering I'm alive and very well, I highly doubt my suspicions were true. Too bad, would have made for a great blog story. Then this morning on my walk in, I slipped. On something very slippery. It actually WAS a snake!! Ewe. I wish I had taken a picture, I think it was dead. But since I hate snakes I steadied myself and quickly sprinted away. It was most definitely a snake though. Do they have little green mambas in Nairobi? I don't know. I should find out. It looked like one.
Ok, so the snake has nothing to do with my breakfast eggs this morning. And in spite of the slimy green creature I'd rather not see first thing in my day, I do really like it here. Very much. :-)
Feb 24, 2011
well THAT was interesting...
Some of my furniture pieces arrived tonight. Like I mentioned before, I try not to expect the end result to replicate what I asked for. No one likes disappointment. I had to stifle my laughter when they brought in my coffee table. THE FUNNIEST LOOKING COFFEE TABLE I HAVE EVER SEEN!
Except that's not the interesting part. My carpenter's right hand, Mark, brought in a piece of furniture with two helpers following. I held the front door as each one entered; each with even stronger alcohol on their breath than the first. I asked if they stopped at happy hour before delivering - and that's why they were over an hour late? They giggle. Grown men giggling tells you something. The two drunken helpers nicked out a piece of my wall as they moved the bed frame into the guest room. Thanks, guys! I watch as they start to assemble, they seem able. Though one man has an open oozing sore on his right hand the size of three quarters. I gasped (before I could catch myself). It was oozing puss and blood and looked purple and green. With bubbles. Kind of like an open boil. He didn't notice my gasp, probably because of the warm fuzzy feeling in his tummy.
I walk back into the living room to ask Mark to level out my very wobbly new furniture. He obliges. He's done this before with the first load. I am very picky - I like my furniture not to wobble away. :-) It's during this time he starts to tell me a story. His neighbor is a thief. A mob found him today and began throwing stones at him. They tied him up and started to kick. They then poured gasoline over his head. Preparing to burn him alive. In his own home. At 3:00 in the afternoon. His wife was screaming for them to stop. Mark was working next door in his workshop and heard the screaming. Him and his friend were able to convince the mob to not burn the thief alive, but to let them take him to the police. Mark gives me more background that the police here in Kenya are not always trusted to enforce justice. They don't do anything. He says when a thief is discovered, mobs kill them. It happened last week; it almost happened this afternoon. He said his neighbor, his friend, was very lucky today. But when the police release him in three days time, the mob will be back.
I don't know what to say. Pole.
I ask if there is a court of law in Kenya. Mark says yes, but without evidence, they will not try him. There is no evidence against his neighbor. Just an angry mob with a can of gasoline and a match.
I still don't know what to say. Pole sana.
Mark finishes leveling out my new shelves and side table. I test. It is steady. Doesn't move a millimeter (as Mark would say). I thank them, pay them, and wish them a good night.
I walk back through the house to inspect these new pieces. The mis-shapen crooked shelves are growing on me. They are solid. The console table that five minutes a go was solid, is now rocking. As is the funny looking coffee table (which by the way, doesn't come up to my knees). I guess an oval shape was a tad too much. It is oval, but it's not even. I will find myself a vase and cover it with beautiful flowers. Maybe no one will notice how funny it looks (until my couch arrives and it turns into a foot stool).
Hmmm.
Except that's not the interesting part. My carpenter's right hand, Mark, brought in a piece of furniture with two helpers following. I held the front door as each one entered; each with even stronger alcohol on their breath than the first. I asked if they stopped at happy hour before delivering - and that's why they were over an hour late? They giggle. Grown men giggling tells you something. The two drunken helpers nicked out a piece of my wall as they moved the bed frame into the guest room. Thanks, guys! I watch as they start to assemble, they seem able. Though one man has an open oozing sore on his right hand the size of three quarters. I gasped (before I could catch myself). It was oozing puss and blood and looked purple and green. With bubbles. Kind of like an open boil. He didn't notice my gasp, probably because of the warm fuzzy feeling in his tummy.
I walk back into the living room to ask Mark to level out my very wobbly new furniture. He obliges. He's done this before with the first load. I am very picky - I like my furniture not to wobble away. :-) It's during this time he starts to tell me a story. His neighbor is a thief. A mob found him today and began throwing stones at him. They tied him up and started to kick. They then poured gasoline over his head. Preparing to burn him alive. In his own home. At 3:00 in the afternoon. His wife was screaming for them to stop. Mark was working next door in his workshop and heard the screaming. Him and his friend were able to convince the mob to not burn the thief alive, but to let them take him to the police. Mark gives me more background that the police here in Kenya are not always trusted to enforce justice. They don't do anything. He says when a thief is discovered, mobs kill them. It happened last week; it almost happened this afternoon. He said his neighbor, his friend, was very lucky today. But when the police release him in three days time, the mob will be back.
I don't know what to say. Pole.
I ask if there is a court of law in Kenya. Mark says yes, but without evidence, they will not try him. There is no evidence against his neighbor. Just an angry mob with a can of gasoline and a match.
I still don't know what to say. Pole sana.
Mark finishes leveling out my new shelves and side table. I test. It is steady. Doesn't move a millimeter (as Mark would say). I thank them, pay them, and wish them a good night.
I walk back through the house to inspect these new pieces. The mis-shapen crooked shelves are growing on me. They are solid. The console table that five minutes a go was solid, is now rocking. As is the funny looking coffee table (which by the way, doesn't come up to my knees). I guess an oval shape was a tad too much. It is oval, but it's not even. I will find myself a vase and cover it with beautiful flowers. Maybe no one will notice how funny it looks (until my couch arrives and it turns into a foot stool).
Hmmm.
Feb 21, 2011
wrestling
There are times I forget I am in Africa. The conveniences of our busy western-style life are here. There are other times I am acutely aware of where I am, the position I hold, and the things that separate me from my fellow community members. My house cleaner is one. I wrestle with this daily. A very sweet lady, an awesome cleaner, yet what I am paying her for a week of work I would not even consider doing the job myself for an hours’ wage. (I think this is the hard part.) And yet, after speaking with my Kenyan colleagues, I find she has swindled me into paying her over double what the wage is for this neighborhood. Double. To make matters even more challenging, she is the wife of our office maintenance man of 20 years. That is a plus for security and dependability; a negative when I realized the swindling after the fact and he now greets me with a huge smile each morning.
I pour my coffee and tip toe around his freshly mopped floor. I know they have five children living at home. I know they live out in the slums. While I come home to my shiny clean penthouse apartment in the upscale neighborhood I live, I know I am contributing to their livelihood. But I still wrestle.
Making the decision to hire a house cleaner is one I struggled with. I don't mean to sound pompous but I can clean my own house. I actually don’t mind a good Saturday scrub to de-stress from the week and start fresh on Sunday. There is a sub-culture here to hire house staff who care for your home - cleaners, cooks, nannies, gardeners, etc. As an expatriate, I can pay a good wage and give someone a job; food on the table, fees for children’s activities, transport money. But I wrestle with attributing to this sub culture - mostly because I could never afford it at home and the injustice of salary here gives me a negative taste in my mouth. I also fear I may be exemplifying the gap between mazungo and my community members by paying her over double the wage in my neighborhood. (Any ideas on how to fix this??) The damage with that is done, I think. If I were to decrease, I risk the retaliation. The theft. The insecurity. Having someone in the house during the day increases my property security – hopefully. And to be completely honest and selfish, it is wonderful to come home to a clean house after a long day in the office and a dusty walk.
Fortunately, there is too much work to be done to spend much time feeling guilty. But I am wrestling.
I pour my coffee and tip toe around his freshly mopped floor. I know they have five children living at home. I know they live out in the slums. While I come home to my shiny clean penthouse apartment in the upscale neighborhood I live, I know I am contributing to their livelihood. But I still wrestle.
Making the decision to hire a house cleaner is one I struggled with. I don't mean to sound pompous but I can clean my own house. I actually don’t mind a good Saturday scrub to de-stress from the week and start fresh on Sunday. There is a sub-culture here to hire house staff who care for your home - cleaners, cooks, nannies, gardeners, etc. As an expatriate, I can pay a good wage and give someone a job; food on the table, fees for children’s activities, transport money. But I wrestle with attributing to this sub culture - mostly because I could never afford it at home and the injustice of salary here gives me a negative taste in my mouth. I also fear I may be exemplifying the gap between mazungo and my community members by paying her over double the wage in my neighborhood. (Any ideas on how to fix this??) The damage with that is done, I think. If I were to decrease, I risk the retaliation. The theft. The insecurity. Having someone in the house during the day increases my property security – hopefully. And to be completely honest and selfish, it is wonderful to come home to a clean house after a long day in the office and a dusty walk.
Fortunately, there is too much work to be done to spend much time feeling guilty. But I am wrestling.
Feb 20, 2011
i spy
Something is in my treetops. There are a few of them. Are they nests? Bats? Sleeping birds?
I'd like a set of binoculars for my birthday, if anyone remembers. :-)
I'd like a set of binoculars for my birthday, if anyone remembers. :-)
Feb 19, 2011
we can do anything
The famous money words today "we can do anything". Just what I like to hear! I moved into my own little place a week ago. I have a bed to sleep on, but my living room looks awfully big empty. Today I placed an order for a couch and a chair. Now, this is not as easy as it sounds. Maybe it doesn't sound easy. I feel good about it now; we shall see what is delivered in a couple weeks! Furniture stores here are ridiculous expensive. Well over $1000 for a piece. I can get an entire 7-seat set for a fraction of the price. And I only want a couch and a chair.
I search the internet for something I like and with a fairly simple design to increase my chances of the end product being anything like the picture.
I start my friendly banter with the furniture makers - charming my introduction to get on their good side. (This is very important to the negotiation process giving me the best price) I look through books and books of fabric. Finally I narrow it down, and am told over and over my choice is out of stock. I rephrase my question to ask and see only those fabrics available. Ahh, patience. If you smile at it, it kind of works like a sly mischievous little kid. A smile works wonders here. I try to smile a lot. Besides it giving me things I want, it makes for one less grumpy mazungo on the streets. And I'm not even grumpy - most days. :-) Maybe next I will try their motto: I can do anything. I know it's not true, but maybe if I say it enough, others will be tempted with the idea to believe. And in theory, I do agree it is a great motto to uphold. Very positive. Very confident.
This morning I was reading on my little balcony. The passage was in John chapter 16 "I tell you the truth, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name...Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete." We can do anything. It's easy to get caught up in the hassle and negotiations of the day. I often forget I am not alone in them and all I need to do is ask. Joy will be made complete. Something so simple. John 16:33 "I have told you these things, so that in ME you will have PEACE. In this WORLD you will have TROUBLE. But take HEART!! I have overcome the world."
I work in development. We work with and through communities to try and eliminate the amount of struggle, the amount of pain people experience on a daily basis. If human needs such as clean water, access to food, shelter, safety from persecution is met - our work is successful. Jesus tells us we will have trouble in this world. He tells us that he will bring peace. He tells us to take heart. To relax. To trust. This simple straightforward fact is so difficult when you are face to face with the injustice. Jesus also tells us to ASK. Ask for what we desire. What we hope for. What we want. And with faith. If we do, we will have JOY. (who doesn't want joy?) We will have PEACE. (is that not the ultimate end goal?) We can do anything. I believe "we" is the key word here. My perfect picture of my furniture order will come, but the result of what it looks like will not necessarily be the same as I have requested. It will be unique to the furniture maker. His interpretation of the pretty picture. I need to trust in God's pretty picture. I need to trust in his interpretation of my desires, my needs. When I look outside, at this beautiful day, in this beautiful place, it is so easy to trust. It is easy to believe. When I am faced with injustices, hungry children, adults begging and stealing, livelihoods destroyed, personal security and safety compromised by political disagreements, it is more difficult to trust in a greater pretty picture. A different interpretation than what I see. My instinct is to put on a smile and negotiate my way to what I believe the end result should look like. And I will continue to do this for as long as it takes to meet the needs of those we are working with. But I must also trust in the one who gives us peace; I must trust in the promise of simply asking in faith and receiving with joy.
I reread verse 33: "...you will have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." It's already done.
WE can do anything.
I search the internet for something I like and with a fairly simple design to increase my chances of the end product being anything like the picture.
I start my friendly banter with the furniture makers - charming my introduction to get on their good side. (This is very important to the negotiation process giving me the best price) I look through books and books of fabric. Finally I narrow it down, and am told over and over my choice is out of stock. I rephrase my question to ask and see only those fabrics available. Ahh, patience. If you smile at it, it kind of works like a sly mischievous little kid. A smile works wonders here. I try to smile a lot. Besides it giving me things I want, it makes for one less grumpy mazungo on the streets. And I'm not even grumpy - most days. :-) Maybe next I will try their motto: I can do anything. I know it's not true, but maybe if I say it enough, others will be tempted with the idea to believe. And in theory, I do agree it is a great motto to uphold. Very positive. Very confident.
This morning I was reading on my little balcony. The passage was in John chapter 16 "I tell you the truth, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name...Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete." We can do anything. It's easy to get caught up in the hassle and negotiations of the day. I often forget I am not alone in them and all I need to do is ask. Joy will be made complete. Something so simple. John 16:33 "I have told you these things, so that in ME you will have PEACE. In this WORLD you will have TROUBLE. But take HEART!! I have overcome the world."
I work in development. We work with and through communities to try and eliminate the amount of struggle, the amount of pain people experience on a daily basis. If human needs such as clean water, access to food, shelter, safety from persecution is met - our work is successful. Jesus tells us we will have trouble in this world. He tells us that he will bring peace. He tells us to take heart. To relax. To trust. This simple straightforward fact is so difficult when you are face to face with the injustice. Jesus also tells us to ASK. Ask for what we desire. What we hope for. What we want. And with faith. If we do, we will have JOY. (who doesn't want joy?) We will have PEACE. (is that not the ultimate end goal?) We can do anything. I believe "we" is the key word here. My perfect picture of my furniture order will come, but the result of what it looks like will not necessarily be the same as I have requested. It will be unique to the furniture maker. His interpretation of the pretty picture. I need to trust in God's pretty picture. I need to trust in his interpretation of my desires, my needs. When I look outside, at this beautiful day, in this beautiful place, it is so easy to trust. It is easy to believe. When I am faced with injustices, hungry children, adults begging and stealing, livelihoods destroyed, personal security and safety compromised by political disagreements, it is more difficult to trust in a greater pretty picture. A different interpretation than what I see. My instinct is to put on a smile and negotiate my way to what I believe the end result should look like. And I will continue to do this for as long as it takes to meet the needs of those we are working with. But I must also trust in the one who gives us peace; I must trust in the promise of simply asking in faith and receiving with joy.
I reread verse 33: "...you will have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." It's already done.
WE can do anything.
Feb 18, 2011
I miss my brother, my father, my maintenance man Jim
...and where are all the SP Sudan boys who can apparently fix anything? This is not how it's suppose to work. My flashy new washing machine was hooked up this afternoon. Or so I thought. I hear the spin cycle start and I smile; until the water starts gushing out of my wall and flooding my clean kitchen floor! Right behind the cooker with the exposed gas tank and electrical wires that have no proper end to them. Thankfully my apartment floor slants from the kitchen into the washing room. Convenient, don't you think? Oh, but did I mention the first test run of laundry was full of all my dry rags? I am so happy it's Friday! Maybe on Monday I can wash my clothes. And I must remember to buy a better mop. :-)
Time.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
~William Shakesphere
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
~William Shakesphere
Feb 17, 2011
mornings
I thought of all my friends in cold places this morning. To awake and go to work you must first grind your teeth against the cold outside of the warm bed blankets, jump into an even colder bathroom, defrost/scrape/dig out your car, and drive to work in overcrowded rush-hour traffic where you sit and try not to get worked up before the day begins. Ok, maybe your morning is not so bleak. I sincerely hope not. But I do remember those days myself. Not too long ago.
This morning I awoke with sunshine pouring in my window, birds singing outside, a warm breeze rustling the treetops. I stepped outside to a beautiful peaceful morning. My walk to the office takes me down a quiet private street lined with lush green and bright flowers, past two primary schools where I listen to children sing, past my friendly taxi driver having his morning chai, and across the main street to the corner fruit and veggie stand just before I am greeted at the office gate. To make you all even more jealous, I am living in one of the finest countries with delicious coffee that is brewed fresh all morning in my office. (It's even java house coffee!) Please, never let me complain!
There is peace this morning. I find joy. And am overwhelmed with the blessings before me; praying they will keep fresh in my mind when the overwhelming work hits full force.
This morning I awoke with sunshine pouring in my window, birds singing outside, a warm breeze rustling the treetops. I stepped outside to a beautiful peaceful morning. My walk to the office takes me down a quiet private street lined with lush green and bright flowers, past two primary schools where I listen to children sing, past my friendly taxi driver having his morning chai, and across the main street to the corner fruit and veggie stand just before I am greeted at the office gate. To make you all even more jealous, I am living in one of the finest countries with delicious coffee that is brewed fresh all morning in my office. (It's even java house coffee!) Please, never let me complain!
There is peace this morning. I find joy. And am overwhelmed with the blessings before me; praying they will keep fresh in my mind when the overwhelming work hits full force.
Feb 14, 2011
it's snowing!
"No, no, Mr. taxi man. That's not SNOW, my friend. It is hail. A hailstorm in Nairobi! And no, it will not break your windshield. ;-)"
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