One more fantastic week (or two I spose) gone by quicker than expected and I will do my best to limit myself to a brief account. I’ll spare you all the crazy thoughts that went through my head throughout my time in Kenya, and especially the drive back to Uganda, and I’ll try to sum up my experiences as thoroughly, and briefly as I can. But first I must apologize that I haven’t gotten pictures up for any of my blogs. I’m hoping these will come soon but it is fairly difficult as I haven’t quite figured out an effective way to do it through this blog site and my internet is fairly slow and limiting when it comes to big downloads (which, sadly, is anything larger than a couple kilobytes).
I told you in my last blog that I would spending about a week and a half back in Kenya helping out at an orphanage, called Bahati Academy Children’s Home, that is associated with the Mbale team. Shawn Tyler, the main missionary I have been studying under, and his wife helped start this orphanage when they were doing mission work in Kenya for the first 15 years. Since they have moved their ministry over to Uganda then they have also found less and less time to work with and help out the orphanage. For a while they were leaving it in the care of several competent Africans and visiting about once a month. However, for the last year or so, the orphanage has been fortunate to gain a couple missionaries that are able to minister, organize, and lead the orphanage on a daily basis. This last week I stayed with the Beagles, the missionary family in Kitale Kenya, and I worked mostly alongside Jason Beagle.
I don’t want to take too much time describing all the antics and ridiculous events that occurred throughout the trip, although I could probably write books about them, however, I’ll highlight some of the more interesting happenings as I took public transport to and from Kitale Kenya. Fortunately, Vince Vigil, one of the Mbale team members, had business in Kenya and was able to take me across the border and as far as Webuye in Kenya. He dropped myself and my escort off and left us to fend for ourselves for the rest of the journey to Kitale (about 53 Km or 30 miles). Fortunately: this is a pretty short distance; unfortunately: I think I could’ve walked quicker than it took to use public transport. We took a matatu, which is similar to a 15 passenger van the rest of the distance and it turned out to be an interesting journey. First of all, it took about 20 minutes of waiting as multiple matatus passed us before we finally found one that had enough room for both of us. We boarded and at first it wasn’t half bad. They managed to till the van with it’s 15 passenger capacity and I was uncomfortable but content. After 10 minutes of honking, swerving, and fist shaking our matatu driver managed to move us about a quater mile down the road and then another mile completely off course to a crowded marketplace to board a second matatu. Apparently the first one was by no means crowded because I then got to experience sharing a “15 passenger van” with 20 others. For a while I have driven in normal cars and we always see matatus driving down the road in what seems to be a very dangerous manner. In fact, the first phrase I learned in Swahili was “matatu matata” which means “matatus are trouble”. They don’t abide by rules, they go far too fast, carry far too many people, and pass cars with not nearly enough room. After being in the matatu with 20 other people I found out why they drive so recklessly, it’s because no one actually wants to be in one for more time than is strictly possible and at a certain point, Heaven is much more appealing than even a second more in the van. Despite the dangerous speeds our travel continued to go slow because we transferred between 3 different matatus during this short travel and stopped to pick up anyone that gave even the slightest inclination of perhaps wanting a ride, which included simply making eye contact with the driver.
Fortunately we arrive safely in Kitale and I was then introduced to the orphange and to the Beagle family, as well as Jennefer, a missionary who recently transferred from working in Mbale to working at the orphanage. From my first experience with the orphanage to the very last when I said goodbye, I was full of a sense of welcome from the leaders, joy from the children, and passion all around. All of the leaders: from the main cook, to the house parents, to the Jason and the other missionaries, exhibited such a strong sense of love for the children. They did what they were hired to do but they did so much more as well. Simple acts of making a meal, doing odd jobs, or teaching were all done as acts love and discipleship for the children. Even the boys and girls, especially the older ones, were constantly looking after each other, encouraging and loving each other, and teaching each other. The first girl I truly met there was Martha, one of the older girls there, and I could tell that she had taken it upon herself to be somewhat of a mother for the younger girls. She hung out with the young teenagers, she played with the preteens, and she cared for and carried the young children and toddlers. Abraham was another great example. He was no older than 12 and yet took on a challenging role several times a week to interpret for Jennefer, the Bible teacher, and Betsy, the Librarian.
Needless to say, I became quite attached to just about all of them as I grew to learn their names, learned some swahili words from some, saved others from the TERRIBLE (but really just misunderstood and lonely) mbwa (or dog), became a human jungle gym to most, and the tickle monster to many. As I drove up to the orphanage for the last time I was expecting a very difficult goodbye and was proved right beyond what I thought as I heard the children yelling out my name and saw them running along the van as we drove into the children’s home. Hugs were given, words were exchanged, hands were shook… multiple times, and a few promises (that I hope stay true) of coming back to see them were given (as well as one promise that I would carry my friend back to the U.S.A. in my luggage that I can say with fair assurance will not ring true).
The children and leaders were not the only part that made the trip memorable however. Although the bulk of my work was spent painting and playing, I also had some great conversation and questions with the missionaries concerning their role with the children’s home and some of the difficulties with running one. When I was considering coming over to Africa one of the areas of ministry I searched for most was working with an orphanage. I have had a passion for children for a long time now, and I believe, the gifts and talents that go along with the ministry. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out with any of the ministries that were strictly orphanages. So, when I learned I would be spending this week and half at one in Kenya I decided I wanted to get as much out of it as I could and try to get a feel for how it is to be a missionary in a foreign orphanage. I don’t think I succeeded too well because 3 and half months isn’t close to enough time to truly understand a mission work let alone 10 days. However, I did learn a lot during my time and I believe my desire is at a peak currently. I went in expecting to find that the missionaries, and leaders of the children’s home, would have almost no time for the children and would be completely taken up with the legal and financial side. This however, was not true in the slightest. I’m still not exactly sure how they find time for this side, or who finds the time for this, but Jason, the missionary I worked alongside, spent quite a bit of time with the children and some of the older teens discipling them, enjoying conversation with them, and teaching them. This was extremely encouraging and uplifting because my gift set is definitely not on the legal and financial side.
My experience at the orphanage was an extremely enjoyable and encouraging time that fanned the flame of mission work in me as I once again could see myself doing this type of ministry long term sometime in the future.
All the goodbyes seemed like the end of very, very short week and a half however, I also left with the knowledge that Betsy, a young woman who has been living with the Beagles for a while and helping out with starting a library and book reading program with the children’s home, and also Jennefer would be joining us in Mbale for Thanksgiving. This was encouraging and uplifting but not half as much as the knowledge that the Tylers often go down to the orphanage around Christmas time and I may have the opportunity to join them. It turned out the goodbyes were not the end of my Kenya experiences and I then had the opportunity of joining a friend from Mbale back to Mbale using strictly public transportation, YA!… It turned out the trip back was not quite as bad as I was anticipating. We took a bus for about a third of the trip which turned out to be small step up from the matatu. There were several times in which the bus, which seemed to have a dangerous ratio of height to width, was threatening to tip over. This danger was magnified by the hundreds of pounds of coal that had been placed on top of the bus, the fact that 10 people were standing for lack of sitting room, and the fact that our driver was purposely fish tailing the back of the bus through the mud in a parking lot with more enthusiasm than me and other youth group teens had on an icy day in the Meadowlark Church of Christ parking lot. I learned during this experience that when Africans begin fearing for the safety of the bus I should probably share their fear. Fortunately God’s desire was for me to continue living so, with a miracle in similar in proportion to Moses parting the seas, God sent a thousand angels to keep the bus steady and we then stopped in a crowded lot to pick up even more people. We then finished the rest of the trip in a couple matatus that seemed to go much smoother than the first one, or perhaps I had just become detached from and unaffected by the whole experience of traveling like a sardine. Either that or the experience of getting an ice cream cone was what lifted my spirits enough to see the light at the end of the tunnel. As we were waiting in blistering heat shaded only by the stuffy interior of our matatu, for 45 minutes, as waited for the matatu to fill, I heard the distinctive chime of “oh when the saints come marching in” that in my childhood would flood me with the anticipation of a nice cold, creamy, treat. I immediately scoured the landscape for an ice cream truck that I knew couldn’t possibly exist and then I saw it! A small bicycle with a loud speaker on the back and a small cooler on the front with a sign proclaiming “Delicious Ice Cream”. Needless to say I sped out of the matatu and purchased said ice cream. I pulled out a couple thousand shillings (about 80 cents) expecting to purchase an expensive but very worth it ice cream. My hopes were slowly shattered as the peddler proclaimed that the ice cream only cost 200 shillings (about 4 cents) and I quickly realized I would not be receiving the quality of ice cream I was expecting. Nevertheless I paid the meager amount and received a cone of what I can best describe as icee in a cone. Cone is probably a generous overstatement as I could barely distinguish between this stale wafer and the piece of notebook paper that acted as the napkin wrapped around it to keep the drips from being sticky on your fingers. Though my disappointment was clearly evident, I still enjoyed the flavored ice in my cone shaped papery treat and it helped pass the time as we waited to leave.
And now, as if the ice cream wasn’t strange enough, it’s time for “the strange food of the week”. We were traveling through the market in Kitale when a strange fruit caught our attention. This fruit was about the size of a large orange and had coloring similar to a mango. The skin was extremely hard and it had large spines protruding from all over it. We bought one, of course, and did the rest of our shopping with this strange fruit in tow. I quickly learned how strange this fruit truly was because for one, the peddler who sold it couldn’t tell us what it was called, and secondly because all the Africans who saw it quickly questioned us as to what it was. We got home and looked it up on line and found out it was called an African cucumber. I still don’t know why it’s called this as the only part of the description that in any way rang true was the African part. We cut it open to find a strange, vivid green interior compartmentalized in hexagons. It had a decent flavor that was very similar to the taste of a ripe banana with the texture of slimy starfruit.
Well, because I don’t want to end on such a ridiculous note I’ll ask one of the questions that I have been struggling with for a while and that came up during the Friday “Men’s Breakfast” that Jason hosted weekly. The idea was that we have the wrong definition of safety and security. We, especially in America, consider safety to mean that we have our future all planned out, we have money saved up, we have a house we’re paying off or own, we have a retirement plan, all that jazz. What God means by safety is that we are fully and utterly reliant on Him to provide (this doesn’t necessarily mean we can’t have financial security). This goes beyond putting our trust in God rather than on ourselves but also covers the idea that God just might send us to dangerous and unsecure places to serve His Kingdom. The question that came up, one I have been struggling with, is what this means in terms of when you have a family. It’s one thing for a young single man or woman to go overseas to a dangerous location to preach the word of God knowing one is putting one’s life in danger. Is it still responsible to do this when you have a spouse, and even more, young children that are in your care? If you have any ideas or suggestions I’d love to hear them.
Before I finish up I’d like to tell you about several ministries that you can take apart in in Kitale. First of all, the Bahati Academy Children’s Home provides physical, emotional, educational, and spiritual support to the children from the time they receive them to the time they graduate Secondary school, or High school. The cost of supporting the children is about $30 a month and covers food, salaries, and their education in the school which is part of the Children’s Home and ranks as the 22nd, and growing, of 55 schools in the area. The cost goes up to about $70 a month per child when they reach Secondary because they are sent off to a boarding school. If you’d like to help support this ministry, or directly support the Beagles you can contact them at amy.hopex3@gmail.com. Just let them know I told you about the ministry and they’d be more than happy to fill you in on any details. Secondly, the library and book education program is just starting up, you can read a more in depth review of this ministry, written by Betsy Ingalls who is currently heading this ministry, at http://betsyingalls.tumblr.com/. Because this ministry is just starting up you can take a major role in helping it out by purchasing books for the children from Amazon from a wishlist of books still needed at:
http://www.amazon.com/registry/wishlist/263TYQEXPE3N0/ref=cm_wl_sb?reveal=unpurchased&filter=all&sort=date-added&layout=standard&x=11&y=8
See the blog for more details as to how you can help and how the process of purchasing books works.
Finally I’d like to finish up with some prayer requests. Please continue to keep my safety and ministry here in Africa in your prayers. I am starting to question my future after December even more and am having all kinds of ideas about where I feel God leading me for long term ministry so please pray for guidance and once again, for the ability to live in the moment and do my best in the ministry God has currently given me. Also pray that my ministry here continues to be as fruitful and challenging as it has proved to be so far. Please also pray for the ACU community, there was recently a bad bus crash full of the agricultural department that resulted in one death and quite a few hospitalized. You can read more about it at http://www.acuoptimist.com/2011/11/one-dead-in-acu-bus-accident/.
Again if you have any advice or ideas concerning the question I asked a couple paragraphs above I’d love to hear it and I pray that God blesses your time in the United States as the winter begins, and apparently has already begun with a vengeance in Colorado.
Thank you for taking the time to read this lengthy blog!
God Bless,
Dan Grenier
