Sep 30, 2011
missing you
This morning I was missing my sister Carrie. Earlier this week it was the Culp boys. Sunday it was little Miss Ada Joy. I used to believe if I was missing people I was not living in the present. I was not content. Of course, it oddly only applied to when I lived overseas. And it always came with a heavy load of guilt. But I don’t really see it that way anymore. I’m living life here – even if I am thousands of miles away. I’m seeing and experiencing all that is around me. I’m in the present. But I still miss my friends. My family. They’re in my present too – just not in the same way as if I was at home. Sometimes they are in a broken connection on my computer screen. :-) It is difficult. This morning I was walking to work carrying my tall Starbucks coffee mug and was reminded of when my sister would come over on the weekends and we’d walk the Grand Avenue and Highland Park neighborhoods of St. Paul – with our Starbucks coffee mugs filled with warm sugary brew checking out cute houses and being at awe of what season was changing. My coffee mug was empty this morning – I was still searching for my hot brew. But the weather was nice. It was sunny, breezy, the birds were singing. And I am in Africa! So I cannot be sad. But I do hope that every once in a while my family misses me too. :-)
Sep 27, 2011
how deep is his love
Sep 25, 2011
Sep 21, 2011
retreat
A couple weeks back our organization had its annual regional ministry retreat for Africa. It was held at a beach side resort in Malindi, Kenya. Absolutely beautiful. The time was given for staff to rest and restore - emotionally, physically, and spiritually.
I slept a minimum of 10 hours each night until the last night (I awoke at 4am and decided it was time to get back to work!)
To be honest, anxiety swam around the retreat as many of our leadership from headquarters were in attendance and that thus far does not mean rest. It wasn't so bad. Even encouraging at times. And humorous to see very serious men who are forced to wear ties in the office come to meetings and meals in swim trunks and mismatched button down shirts. :-)
The 7 days were spent with friends whom I haven't seen in months, lots of girl time, and a few stolen moments by the seaside. Sunday was the most relaxing day I may have had all year - I slept in until 11a, enjoyed coffee on a beautiful garden view balcony with one of my favorite gals, brunched by the poolside with colleagues who had just returned from snorkeling in turquoise waters, lounged by the beach sipping pineapple drinks with more super fabulous girls (I work with all men - girl time is a huge luxury!), and was encouraged by a humbling testimony of a good friend and a time of worship starting the retreat. Dinner and coffee and traditional music followed to close out the day. Super relaxing.
The retreat was full with words of rest and encouragement, morning and night, and workshops on living this expat life in the context of our organization's mission and our personal Christian faith. The most important take away from the retreat came from a question asked "how is your relationship with God?" I was not asked how I was doing personally, or in my work, how many people's lives I was saving through different projects, how much money I have brought in - the normal things of importance you would hear when meeting up with colleagues and the big bosses. The most important question asked all week was how my relationship with God is. If it is good, strength and rest and perseverance and everything else will follow. That simple truth, the gentle reminder that the greatest importance and responsibility of our life here on earth is not to save the sick and the poor and the hungry. It is not to play god and pour out all our energy at the feet of those he places before us. It is to be in relationship with him. To love him. To allow him to love us. These words were so powerful to me. Many of us in this line of work, and especially in this organization, are driven to work hard and long to bring relief and to provide for those in need. The responsibility and weight of that is tremendously and completely unrealistic. But as I've said many times before, it's nearly impossible not to carry that burden when face to face with the need and the people. Heart-breaking. Gut-wrenching. Many of my colleagues are working because they feel a "calling", an appointment from God that this is where he wants them and to serve our brothers and sisters in the most extreme and vulnerable crevices of this world. To hear that the most important thing is our relationship with God, rather than what we are contributing to saving the world, is the greatest gift we could have received.
The theme of the retreat was "elevate":
“For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock. And now my head shall be lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the LORD. Hear, O LORD, when I cry aloud; be gracious to me and answer me!" Ps. 27:5-7
Sep 20, 2011
oh! one more thing
I had a professional boxer as my bodyguard today. As well as a tall Swede and a pretty hard core Oregonian. I'm pretty sure our amazing tour guide and project coordinator, a short beautiful Kenyan woman, was our best defense though! She was awesome. And we made it through safely.
more on kibera...
Snapshots of this morning still swimming in my head:
*Imagine a 4 foot high, mile long heap of smoldering garbage. Now insert a man sprawled out on his back, his hat tipped hanging off his head, an empty bottle of gin in his hand. At first sight we found this slightly amusing as he was clearly drunk and passed out in a pile of garbage. But the reality of it was too sad. And very humbling.
**On top of a hill sat a school. The walls were painted white and blue. The school children were practicing their traditional dances out on the lawn in blue and white school uniforms to the beat of some awesome drumming. We drove around to the back and down the hillside was a huge and gorgeous garden. With many sack plants, raised beds and a greenhouse. This site is for the school children. Again, those most vulnerable are identified by the teachers and given the opportunity to (voluntarily) learn how to grow their own vegetables. Each participating student is given a sack, dirt and seeds and are trained in growing and keeping the plants alive! The students are able to take home the first harvest to their families for consumption and the harvests following are sold back to the school cafeteria and the money is used directly to pay for their school fees; guaranteeing the child is not kicked out of school due to an inability to pay. The plants are their security. The school knows they will continue to grow as the project is closely monitored by educated facilitators. It's a pretty neat deal.
There are so many elements to this urban farming project that are sustainable. One of them is that money is never exchanged. Any kind of profit or exchange is given through materials. Pesticides are grown organically - by crushing up chilies and garlic (and maybe another herb or locally grown veg) and mixing with water to spray on the plants, distracting bugs but enabling the farmer to harvest and sell the next day without fear of consuming harmful chemicals. The plants grown are locally consumed and most importantly providing immediate food security for households. The element of community is strengthened through mobilizers, leaders and association groups working together on the community garden plots and training neighbors to start their own sack gardens. Natural fertilizer is created through composts. The benefits are numerous. And the impact is successfully proven to be significant. I like this project. We are hoping to replicate it in Maputo, Mozambique. Another urban community in desperate need of food security in a low cost, sustainable, easy to manage way.
***And a little bonus to our morning - my Mozambique colleagues and I had the opportunity to eat a traditional Kenyan meal today. In the fanciest restaurant in all of Kibera. It was a hand eaten meal. Complete with delicious hot chapatis! We are all a bit anxious to find out if the toilet will be our friend tonight, as we did not see clean water all morning. However, lunch was delicious!
*Imagine a 4 foot high, mile long heap of smoldering garbage. Now insert a man sprawled out on his back, his hat tipped hanging off his head, an empty bottle of gin in his hand. At first sight we found this slightly amusing as he was clearly drunk and passed out in a pile of garbage. But the reality of it was too sad. And very humbling.
**On top of a hill sat a school. The walls were painted white and blue. The school children were practicing their traditional dances out on the lawn in blue and white school uniforms to the beat of some awesome drumming. We drove around to the back and down the hillside was a huge and gorgeous garden. With many sack plants, raised beds and a greenhouse. This site is for the school children. Again, those most vulnerable are identified by the teachers and given the opportunity to (voluntarily) learn how to grow their own vegetables. Each participating student is given a sack, dirt and seeds and are trained in growing and keeping the plants alive! The students are able to take home the first harvest to their families for consumption and the harvests following are sold back to the school cafeteria and the money is used directly to pay for their school fees; guaranteeing the child is not kicked out of school due to an inability to pay. The plants are their security. The school knows they will continue to grow as the project is closely monitored by educated facilitators. It's a pretty neat deal.
There are so many elements to this urban farming project that are sustainable. One of them is that money is never exchanged. Any kind of profit or exchange is given through materials. Pesticides are grown organically - by crushing up chilies and garlic (and maybe another herb or locally grown veg) and mixing with water to spray on the plants, distracting bugs but enabling the farmer to harvest and sell the next day without fear of consuming harmful chemicals. The plants grown are locally consumed and most importantly providing immediate food security for households. The element of community is strengthened through mobilizers, leaders and association groups working together on the community garden plots and training neighbors to start their own sack gardens. Natural fertilizer is created through composts. The benefits are numerous. And the impact is successfully proven to be significant. I like this project. We are hoping to replicate it in Maputo, Mozambique. Another urban community in desperate need of food security in a low cost, sustainable, easy to manage way.
***And a little bonus to our morning - my Mozambique colleagues and I had the opportunity to eat a traditional Kenyan meal today. In the fanciest restaurant in all of Kibera. It was a hand eaten meal. Complete with delicious hot chapatis! We are all a bit anxious to find out if the toilet will be our friend tonight, as we did not see clean water all morning. However, lunch was delicious!
kibera
Today I walked through villages in Kibera Slums. The urban poor of Nairobi. We were visiting an urban farming project - very innovating and inspiring!
This walk is requiring some processing. I'm not convinced my writing can paint a picture for you, however the picture of the slums which I saw was not allowed to be captured with a camera. I will try.
Garbage lining the streets. Piles of it. Mounds. A smell so strong you could see and taste it.
Open sewage and waste FLOWING between the homes.
Houses made of RUSTY sharp and JAGGED tin. Some made of mud and garbage bags.
Children running barefoot.
Residents upset there were four mazungos walking through their neighborhood - shouting for us to get out of their way.
PUNGENT suffocating smells of feces and burning garbage saturated in the midday heat.
But amidst this disgusting and most humbling picture, there is LIFE growing. New life. Hope. Change. We were gently reminded today that development is a slow process. We must be very patient when working with people and that community exists even in the most inhumane conditions.
The organization we visited is finishing up a two year urban agricultural project that has been very successful. Urban Farming at it's best! They build capacity and train up households to not only provide food for their families, but also extra income, a livelihood, and community support.
Security. In the ngo world when we say "food security" we are referring to securing a food source for people. Simple. But the impact is often greater. It is creating security for households in the source of their food AND in the state of mind that they will not go hungry. That they will be able to eat and to provide produce to sell giving extra money for bread and milk, etc. It's knowing where that next grocery bill is being paid from. It's providing for their family. Example: a mother of five who is participating in the project has been able to cut her food bill in half by growing her own vegetables. A 50% cut in cost is significant. She also receives a small income (approx $5) each month to buy food items and pay school fees for her children. This is a simple project, but the significance of it lies in the space and sanitation of these communities. The space between houses is sometimes less than two feet wide. There is no sewage or waste removal or water system in Kibera - therefore the sewage and waste runs between the houses. It's a sanitation nightmare to say the least. The tin roofs so closely together provide little outlet for sunlight. The success of this project, agriculture in a such small and confined area, is making a significant impact in the lives of the participants, their families, and their neighbors who they are also teaching. It's also pretty darn impressive! All that is needed is a feed sack, soil, a little fertilizer and seeds. Kale is the most prevalent grown, as it is the "appropriate vegetable", the staple food of sukuma wiki and high in vitamins. It grows tall and in between the small spaces. It is amazing where life can grow. Lush and green. What life signifies. Hope. Security. Community.
Photos of the impressive urban farming to come...
This walk is requiring some processing. I'm not convinced my writing can paint a picture for you, however the picture of the slums which I saw was not allowed to be captured with a camera. I will try.
Garbage lining the streets. Piles of it. Mounds. A smell so strong you could see and taste it.
Open sewage and waste FLOWING between the homes.
Houses made of RUSTY sharp and JAGGED tin. Some made of mud and garbage bags.
Children running barefoot.
Residents upset there were four mazungos walking through their neighborhood - shouting for us to get out of their way.
PUNGENT suffocating smells of feces and burning garbage saturated in the midday heat.
But amidst this disgusting and most humbling picture, there is LIFE growing. New life. Hope. Change. We were gently reminded today that development is a slow process. We must be very patient when working with people and that community exists even in the most inhumane conditions.
The organization we visited is finishing up a two year urban agricultural project that has been very successful. Urban Farming at it's best! They build capacity and train up households to not only provide food for their families, but also extra income, a livelihood, and community support.
Security. In the ngo world when we say "food security" we are referring to securing a food source for people. Simple. But the impact is often greater. It is creating security for households in the source of their food AND in the state of mind that they will not go hungry. That they will be able to eat and to provide produce to sell giving extra money for bread and milk, etc. It's knowing where that next grocery bill is being paid from. It's providing for their family. Example: a mother of five who is participating in the project has been able to cut her food bill in half by growing her own vegetables. A 50% cut in cost is significant. She also receives a small income (approx $5) each month to buy food items and pay school fees for her children. This is a simple project, but the significance of it lies in the space and sanitation of these communities. The space between houses is sometimes less than two feet wide. There is no sewage or waste removal or water system in Kibera - therefore the sewage and waste runs between the houses. It's a sanitation nightmare to say the least. The tin roofs so closely together provide little outlet for sunlight. The success of this project, agriculture in a such small and confined area, is making a significant impact in the lives of the participants, their families, and their neighbors who they are also teaching. It's also pretty darn impressive! All that is needed is a feed sack, soil, a little fertilizer and seeds. Kale is the most prevalent grown, as it is the "appropriate vegetable", the staple food of sukuma wiki and high in vitamins. It grows tall and in between the small spaces. It is amazing where life can grow. Lush and green. What life signifies. Hope. Security. Community.
Photos of the impressive urban farming to come...
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 6, 2011
this is how God works:
After posting my last entry, I turn to my reading for today. It happens to be Matthew 18:1-5.
At that time the disciples came to Jesus. They asked him, 'Who is the most important person in the kingdom of heaven?'
Jesus called a little child over to him. He had the child stand among them. Jesus said, 'What I'm about to tell you is true. You need to change and become like little children. If you don't, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Anyone who becomes as free of pride as this child is the most important in the kingdom of heaven.
'Anyone who welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me.'
I sometimes ask too many questions. Next time I will give my diet coke. There is a huge plus side to living life in difficult parts of the world as a Christian. I see Jesus every day. Sometimes I have to ask, but there is always a moment, a sighting, a feeling of comfort or peace knowing He is here. It's just not always in an obvious way to my western formed mind. He is here and he is teaching.
At that time the disciples came to Jesus. They asked him, 'Who is the most important person in the kingdom of heaven?'
Jesus called a little child over to him. He had the child stand among them. Jesus said, 'What I'm about to tell you is true. You need to change and become like little children. If you don't, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Anyone who becomes as free of pride as this child is the most important in the kingdom of heaven.
'Anyone who welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me.'
I sometimes ask too many questions. Next time I will give my diet coke. There is a huge plus side to living life in difficult parts of the world as a Christian. I see Jesus every day. Sometimes I have to ask, but there is always a moment, a sighting, a feeling of comfort or peace knowing He is here. It's just not always in an obvious way to my western formed mind. He is here and he is teaching.
Sep 5, 2011
losing perspective
What makes a child stick both arms into a car window on the street and grab aimlessly for what's inside? Is it desperation? A learned behavior? An abuse?
Today I was in the front of a taxi, sitting in stalled traffic, and my face was grabbed. Two dirty desperate little hands reached through the slightly opened window and grabbed me. I was holding a bottle of diet coke. Did he want that? He asked for food. There was no food on my face.
The taxi driver frantically tried to roll up the window before more harm was done and in the process pinched this young boys fingers. The taxi man then laughed and said that is what he deserved. Pinched fingers. As in "no, no, don't touch the white lady". I must say this has not happened to me before. Homeless and begging children fill the streets in parts of Nairobi and approach you for food or money or anything to take. Blind mothers holding crying babies with open hands. Homeless men with no legs. It's a common scene here. However, I have not been grabbed by actual fingers for quite some time. And never on my face. I have a scratch mark down one cheek. It's small and will probably be gone tomorrow. But I felt it. With my back seat full of fresh produce and groceries. My handbag full of snacks. My diet coke half drank sitting on my lap. I felt his fingers. Did he just want food?
After the window was rolled up, the small boy began beating on it with closed fists. The traffic was stalled for miles so we were not going anywhere. And he was not giving up. I look over and into his eyes. I couldn't read them. I felt shamed. Did he? I wanted to help. But why didn't I? He came at me, he physically came at me. That's why I didn't. But do I blame him? He was just a boy. Maybe he really is hungry. Maybe he has seen more heartache than love in his life. Maybe he's never been cared for. Or maybe he's been taught to target and steal. I will never know. But tonight I feel the scratch on my cheek and wish I had done something different. Maybe the proposals and projects we're working on will make up for this one boys hungry belly and angry take on the world. A lost perspective. Or maybe he has it right. Maybe we all need to grab out towards something or someone who we know can help us when we have a need. I often feel like that at times, crying out asking God to show me, taking what I want and believe should be mine without asking for it politely or waiting patiently. Is it our human nature? Or is it a learned behavior? What would happen if I stuck out my arms and grab aimlessly? Would anyone reach for me? Yes, they would. So why wouldn't I reach for this boy who obviously needed something.
Aid workers don't want to get a complex of saving the world and the guilt that comes with realizing that's impossible. I have to tell you, it's extremely difficult at times to not when you are searching for understanding to little things like today's taxi ride. A lost perspective can go both ways.
Today I was in the front of a taxi, sitting in stalled traffic, and my face was grabbed. Two dirty desperate little hands reached through the slightly opened window and grabbed me. I was holding a bottle of diet coke. Did he want that? He asked for food. There was no food on my face.
The taxi driver frantically tried to roll up the window before more harm was done and in the process pinched this young boys fingers. The taxi man then laughed and said that is what he deserved. Pinched fingers. As in "no, no, don't touch the white lady". I must say this has not happened to me before. Homeless and begging children fill the streets in parts of Nairobi and approach you for food or money or anything to take. Blind mothers holding crying babies with open hands. Homeless men with no legs. It's a common scene here. However, I have not been grabbed by actual fingers for quite some time. And never on my face. I have a scratch mark down one cheek. It's small and will probably be gone tomorrow. But I felt it. With my back seat full of fresh produce and groceries. My handbag full of snacks. My diet coke half drank sitting on my lap. I felt his fingers. Did he just want food?
After the window was rolled up, the small boy began beating on it with closed fists. The traffic was stalled for miles so we were not going anywhere. And he was not giving up. I look over and into his eyes. I couldn't read them. I felt shamed. Did he? I wanted to help. But why didn't I? He came at me, he physically came at me. That's why I didn't. But do I blame him? He was just a boy. Maybe he really is hungry. Maybe he has seen more heartache than love in his life. Maybe he's never been cared for. Or maybe he's been taught to target and steal. I will never know. But tonight I feel the scratch on my cheek and wish I had done something different. Maybe the proposals and projects we're working on will make up for this one boys hungry belly and angry take on the world. A lost perspective. Or maybe he has it right. Maybe we all need to grab out towards something or someone who we know can help us when we have a need. I often feel like that at times, crying out asking God to show me, taking what I want and believe should be mine without asking for it politely or waiting patiently. Is it our human nature? Or is it a learned behavior? What would happen if I stuck out my arms and grab aimlessly? Would anyone reach for me? Yes, they would. So why wouldn't I reach for this boy who obviously needed something.
Aid workers don't want to get a complex of saving the world and the guilt that comes with realizing that's impossible. I have to tell you, it's extremely difficult at times to not when you are searching for understanding to little things like today's taxi ride. A lost perspective can go both ways.
Sep 4, 2011
home again.
My favorite part of coming home from a trip is cleaning out the refrigerator. Strange, but I get this wonderful satisfaction by throwing away anything moldy or juicy or wilted or anything that is just not mine. With my travels to our country offices being so frequent, my housemates take good care of the apartment, but each trip I find the refrigerator in need of a good cleaning! I also enjoy dumping the contents of my suitcase into the washer and soaking in a nice hot bath myself. Clean off all that good red African dirt.
Last night as I arrived home from Maputo I was greeted with full blossoms of new color throughout the city! The tree in my front yard has turned purple, the tree in my back yard has turned bright orange. Beautiful! If my legs were not up resting from yet another plane ride, I'd take a walk and see what other colors I could find. Maybe tomorrow. :-)
Sep 3, 2011
airplanes
With the chance of sounding like a spoiled brat...
I very much dislike airplanes. But hear me out, each time I get on one means another goodbye. :(
The excitement of a flying adventure with each take-off has been lost.
I used to be able to close my eyes upon buckling the seat belt and awake after landing - sleeping the entire flight. Now I watch as we gain speed and soar into the clouds...leaving behind my friends and family. This life is getting lonely.
Next week I will embark on yet another airplane. This one will take me to the beach and a week with colleagues from around Africa and international headquarters. I have mixed feelings about this - feels a bit blackmail-ish to hold work meetings and trainings on the beach. However, there is one grand upside to getting in yet another airplane...my friends will also be embarking and this time coming to Kenya! Fabulous. I'm looking forward to lots of stolen girl time and some sweet communion. Hello, Malindi!
I very much dislike airplanes. But hear me out, each time I get on one means another goodbye. :(
The excitement of a flying adventure with each take-off has been lost.
I used to be able to close my eyes upon buckling the seat belt and awake after landing - sleeping the entire flight. Now I watch as we gain speed and soar into the clouds...leaving behind my friends and family. This life is getting lonely.
Next week I will embark on yet another airplane. This one will take me to the beach and a week with colleagues from around Africa and international headquarters. I have mixed feelings about this - feels a bit blackmail-ish to hold work meetings and trainings on the beach. However, there is one grand upside to getting in yet another airplane...my friends will also be embarking and this time coming to Kenya! Fabulous. I'm looking forward to lots of stolen girl time and some sweet communion. Hello, Malindi!
Sep 2, 2011
Sep 1, 2011
i see...
a child's shirt hanging in the window
a pair of sandals in the yard
a new home for an orphaned child!
a pair of sandals in the yard
a new home for an orphaned child!
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