Laurie's Update

Hi there,

Bruce and I got back from Kenya around 11:30 last night. We quickly discovered that our plans to send lots of email updates were futile—we were definitely off the beaten track most of the time and internet access was rare. When it existed, it was often interrupted by power outages. (My flashlight came in handy as we finished both evening marriage seminar sessions in pitch black except for my light on the speaker!)

I know I say this every time that I get back from a missions trip, but it really was an absolutely fabulous trip—I’m so glad we went! Kiswahili is Kenya’s national language but English is Kenya’s official language, so many, many Kenyans speak fluent English. Since we traveled on the local bus inside Kenya, we came in contact with number of English speaking Muslims. The “Good News Bracelets” we wore turned out to be a powerful and effective way to share the Gospel. I shared the Gospel with a Muslim woman and man who acted as translators for me while I was taking histories for a medical outreach. My female translator was delighted that she could have the bracelet if she could tell me what each bead stood for—she learned it in a flash (as did the man who was listening) and wore the bracelet proudly. Later I got to chat with a Somali woman on the bus to Dadaab who was going to a refugee camp to visit her family. When we started talking she asked me where I was from. I answered “Pullman, Washington” and she got really excited. She replied that she was from Washington State. It turns out that she was relocated out of the refugee camp to Seattle 10 years ago and has been living there with her children ever since, except for occasional trips to Kenya to visit her mother and brother who are still in the camp. It really is a small world! We chatted about her struggles to learn a new culture and I asked about the Muslim prayer beads she wore around her wrist. In response she wanted to know the meaning of the bracelet I wore, so again I got to share the Gospel.

Other things I got to do included preaching the Sunday sermon on “Reaching Higher to Win the Battle” at two different churches in Garissa, speaking on deliverance at two different “Encounters with God” (one in a church of Ethiopians and Somalis in a UN refugee camp in Dadaab—80 Km from the border to Somalia—and one to members of a variety of different churches in Garissa) followed by amazing prayer times, and speaking on love and respect at two different marriage seminars in Garissa (one for pastors and their wives and one for their combined congregations). Scattered between teaching and traveling to Dadaab were visits to schools to distribute the books we brought (which were received with great excitement and gratitude) and two different villages for “medical camps”.

The medical camps definitely were NOT what I was expecting! Ken, the Kenyan missionary in Garissa who we were working with, had arranged for a nurse practitioner to buy the necessary drugs and accompany us to the camps to do the diagnosing and prescribing. Once word got out that we were there CROWDS flocked to the huts we used as a dispensary. The first day there wasn’t a door on the woven stick hut and it immediately became jam packed with people to the point that no one could get in or out and the air temperature rose from hot to sweltering. (Eventually we shut down the operation and told people they had to go outside or we wouldn’t start up again. To our shock it took an older woman with a stick—who wasn’t afraid to use it to get compliance—to disperse the line so we could empty the building!) At the second camp we were wiser and the hut had a door, so Bruce became the “bouncer” controlling when and who got inside. To my surprise medications were dispensed based on history alone, without any physical exam. Most people (including little children) suffered with symptoms of malaria (night sweats, fever, chills, headache…) and shortly into the second camp we ran out of antimalarial drugs and antibiotics for diarrhea. On the whole though, the people were much healthier than I had anticipated—the adults and children generally looked adequately nourished and hydrated with no open sores. Mothers did talk to Eliza matter of factly, though, about sometimes going 2 to 7 days without food due to lack of money.

After 10 days of ministering in Garissa and Dadaab, half our team returned home and Bruce, Eliza, and I went on safari (which means “traveling” in Kiswahili). Roads are a challenge in Kenya (understatement) so we spent a lot of time bouncing into potholes and ruts and breathing dust (on the major highways), but after a 6 hour bus ride to Nairobi from Garissa, then about an 8 hour (including breakdowns) 4 wheel drive van drive south we arrived in the dark at an incredible “tent camp” in the Maasi-Mara National Game Preserve. I say “incredible” because our “tent” was the size of our living room with 3 canopy beds complete with ruffled mosquito netting, an attached fully tiled bathroom, and Simon our room steward (who straightened our shoes and neatly folded any clothing we left lying around). The compound where we stayed was surrounded by heavy duty electric fences to keep the wild animals out, but both evenings we were escorted to our tent by Peter--our spear toting guard. (Upon questioning he admitted to never actually having to use the spear, which was reassuring.) We were awakened in the early mornings by the sounds of elephants, lions, and hippos! The first morning out we saw two lionesses finishing off a meal of fresh wildebeest while hopeful hyenas prowled around then, two male lions on the hunt, and herds of zebra, giraffes, wildebeest, elephants, and innumerable different kinds of deer. That evening we visited a small Maasi village and were invited inside a dark, smoky dung covered hut. The Maasi we met throughout our stay were unfailingly friendly and the women do beautiful beadwork (including around the earlobes which are pierced with a red hot poker at age 13 and are eventually stretched to a fashionable 3-4 inch length.)

Due to road closures we had to return to Nairobi before moving on to Amboseli, our next game park. There we stayed two nights in a beautiful bungalow with grounds patrolled by Maasi warriors in traditional clothes. We got to know “Sami” who had to be at least 6”5’. Like any proud papa he told us about how well his children were doing in school, and about his cattle and goats. We talked, too, about how culture is encroaching on traditional ways of doing things. As a rite of passage he killed a lion at age 15 and got a new name, but now the government won’t allow lions to be killed unless they have been preying on the cattle or goats. While Maasi Mara was a savannah, Amboseli varied between dry salt flats and swampy watering holes. The swamps were full of water buffalo, hippos, ostriches, and elephants with playful little babies. We had a great time wildlife watching, taking photos, and getting glimpses of Mt. Kilimanjaro. Then it was on to our last park—Savo. For the trip to Savo we had to meet up with a “caravan” which had a machine gun toting guard in the front vehicle. (During our entire stay in Kenya we never had any problems or saw anything worrisome, but it most people we talked with had sad stories about the violence that occurred this spring. The tourist trade has been heavily impacted and the first two places we stayed were at about 10% occupancy. Lack of business is starting to really hurt the pocketbooks of the tour operators, resorts, and the locals who work at the resorts and who make and sell crafts to supplement their very small incomes.) To our surprise, if we didn’t know that we were in Kenya we could have sworn that we were on the way to Wenatchee as we drove through the terrain in Savo and looked at the rock formations, bushes, and mountains in the distance. The hotel we stayed in wasn’t that special, but they had two strategically placed watering holes that were lit at night about 30 feet away from the open air bar and restaurant. The balcony of our room overlooked the holes as well. About six p.m. the animals started heading in. First deer, then water buffalo, then herds of elephants blustering for dominance. At 6:30 a staff member hung up a hunk of meat in the center of a frame made of tree trunks with hopes of luring in a leopard. At 7:15 the leopard showed up for his meal. It was an amazing experience to sit there watching elephants and a leopard from 30 feet away, then go to sleep with elephants slurping and snorting right outside our balcony!

My big worry about this trip was that I figured I wouldn’t like African food. Unfortunately that wasn’t a problem and I haven’t yet gotten on the scale yet because I don’t want to see what it says! Ken’s wife, Eunice, fed us amazing meals as did the Ethiopian women at the refugee camp and the teacher at the Canadian Baptist Mission compound where we stayed in Dadaab. Dinners or lunches generally included a savory stew (generally goat meat) with potatoes and other vegetables, delicious sautéed cabbage, hearty chunks of ugali (Kenyan polenta), fruit (usually slices of tree-ripened mango) and chapattis (Kenyan tortillas). At the refugee camp we were served anjera (a thick Somali sourdough tortilla) instead of chapattis.

All in all, we had an amazing time meeting, talking with, seeing how they live, and ministering to so many different people. The game parks were just icing on the cake. Thanks for your thoughts, prayers, and financial support.

Love,

Laurie