We wish you a merry Christmas...we wish you a merry Christmas!!!
Hello all,
Merry Christmas from Kenya. I apologize that we haven't been able to blog in a long time. We are deep in the bush bush in central Kenya. In order to get a signal, we have to climb a cliff and hope it's not cloudy. That makes internetting pretty difficult.
Quick update: We are staying with Jason and Lisa Hovingh at their beautiful house near River Malewa outside of Naivasha, Kenya. We got to their house around December 4th and will be with them until early January. We are actually going on a mini vacation with them to the Kenyan coast from the 4th of January to the 9th. I'm going to swim in the Indian Ocean!!!!! Woohoo!!! I'm pretty much excited. While with the Hovingh's we have been volunteering at the orphanage they are helping to start... digging trash pits, putting together teeter-totters, and sorting through piles of donated clothes from the States... By the way, if donating things to a Kenyan orphanage, please do not send night lights???? Especially if they are for 110 V outlets as we use 240 V over here... We found them and were like, "What!?!"
The girls have been homeschooling the kids and I've been helping Jason around the house and farm and working on booklets and brochures for the retreat center they are setting up. They are somewhat active in the white Kenyan farmer culture and we have been learning a ton about the "Kenyan Cowboys." Most of these people were born here and are actually Kenyan citizens. They either own or manage all the flower farms and it has definitely been an eye-opening experience to see that... I'll try to write more on that the next time I'm online.
Today is my first Kenyan Christmas. I can't believe it's December. We are spending Christmas with the Hovinghs and a family from South Africa. It's been amazing. I'm using the family's computer- BROADBAND INTERNET!!!! Like an angel from heaven. This morning, the girls and I celebrated Christmas together listening to the Michael Buble Christmas album and opening our presents... We had some great gifts.
1. Bethany got a light anywhere match from me so she can rub it in my face that she's a girl who can start a one-match fire.
2. Jill got rocks to skip...hopefully in front of her as she threw one behind her trying to skip it when I taught her how to skip rocks the other day.
3. The girls gave me a beanie (or a Toque? for you Canadians) that was actually a yamukah on my massive head... didn't even get to my ears... Ha.
4. The other day the girls were bored and decided to steal my boxers, hat, undershirt, and socks... I searched for my boxers regularly for about the last week, having no idea where they went... sheesh. I figured they stole them because whenever I mentioned it, they had to choke back laughs. Anyway, this morning after all the other gifts were opened, they told me to go look for my other gift--using the hot cold method as I walked around our little cottage. I got to the freezer and they said I was on fire... I bend down and look in the freezer and there's this wrapped package in the freezer that says Merry Christmas Will... "W'all love you" (inside joke- they make fun of my Texas use of Ya'll so they started saying w'all -we all...) I open the frozen package and find a juice container with all my boxers, beanie, and socks frozen in water. GRRRHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! But I laughed really really hard. Sheesh.
5. Because I had been asking Lisa if she had seen my boxers in the laundry for like the past week, she got me a great gift as well. She knew the girls had frozen my boxers. SO anyway, she and Jason got me silk, leapord print boxers "just so I'd have an extra pair. We laughed for a long time when I opened it. O wow... E is for how EXTREMELY NORMAL THIS IS!
Ok, so it's been a great Christmas in Kenya so far. We had an amazing lunch with lamb (South African custom), impala game pie, chicken stuffing, these amazing pumpkin fritters, some insanely strong South African Red Wine, and some awesome desert with a Russian Skaters name as the name of the dish. I'm almost full... hehe. We're about to play some games so I'm signing off for now but Merry Christmas everyone... and if you ever are missing any boxers, check the freezer. Gosh.
lovewill
P.S. Please be praying for safety as the intensely close elections are two days away... in a third world country, elections can be a scary thing. We love all of you and are missing home and snow... the girls have been listening to Christmas music just to remind them it's Christmas... being from Texas, warmth is normal at Christmas... anyway.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
So, I’m in Africa…
I’ve been meaning to write a blog about random Africa things for some time now. One of our comments posed some great questions that I have been meaning to answer for a long time, but I guess I’ve just put off the general info—this is how we live—blog for a long time. So here we go…
If I were to describe Africa in one word I would probably use the word: dichotomy. Everywhere I look, I see glaring opposites and the far extremes. Africa seems so alive…so vibrant and colorful…But, at the same time, never before have I seen so much death, so much pain, and so much despair. The dichotomy of life and death. So much life and so much death. I see a struggle between the age-old traditions of tribalism and the groans of development. Nairobi is a modern city…complete with modern conveniences and appliances. I’ve eaten the Kenyan version of fast food many times—fried dough in a triangle shape filled with meat, onions, and sometimes peppers. It’s called a samosa.
This place seems so ancient and comfortable in those age-old traditions. The culture is beautiful and definitely colorful; however, I see Kenya striving to develop culturally, politically, and economically. Therefore, daily I see the dichotomy and the struggle of a culture of tribalism that is testing its feet in the water of capitalism, democracy, and development. (I have many questions about whether or not the type of development that the West is seeking to impose on Africa is actually beneficial…not the medical and hygiene development, but the capitalistic and democratic development. But that’s a story for another blog).
Dichotomy…that’s my word for now. Even now, I know it’s changing and will probably continue to develop and change as I continue to learn and observe.
Hmm… here we go with the random my favorite things, my observations, and general info on our daily lives. To start with a funny example of a Kenyanism, look up to the last paragraph at how I started that sentence—“even now.” Of course Kenyans have accents, but the girls and I think it is hilarious how Kenyans always start with “even.” Even me, I will vote for this candidate. Even me, I want you to come with me. Even this one, she likes this musician. Even that one, he plays football. All the time. I think it’s hilarious and we always joke about it amongst ourselves… until the day when I actually said it without thinking. We were talking to a Swiss lady who is married to a Kenyan and I actually said, “Even me, I want to do_______.” Wow, the girls thought it was hysterical and I still here about it “even now.” Ha. So that’s my Kenyanism to start with.
Dishwashing, showers, and clothes washing…
I see more of the dichotomy of Africa with the complete schism between the ways of life. While at the YWAM base two months ago, we washed clothes in buckets, took showers with buckets, and washed dishes with buckets. Whoever is making green, blue, and orange plastic buckets is making a killing. When washing clothes, you use two buckets—one for rinsing and one for washing. My Kenyan buddy, Cliff, showed me how to grasp the end of a piece of clothing in your palm and take the other edge in your other hand. Then, briskly rub the end of the item against the part in the palm (actually on your wrist) and squeegee out all the soap and water as you move up the sleeve or pant leg. It definitely took some getting used to. The general tendency for westerners is to just put all the clothes in the bucket and then swish them around and around…then just rinse them. And the Kenyans laugh really hard at us because clothes don’t get clean that way and you can’t ever get all the soap out. When I first started to do it the Kenyan way, Cliff always laughed hysterically at my clumsy attempt to do it like a Kenyan. He says I’m better now. So that’s clothes washing.
Since that time, I’ve done everything from a washer and dryer to just a washer back to the buckets and even not washing at all. So I see the spectrum depending on where I am and with whom I’m living.
Back when I was in Boy Scouts, on campouts we washed dishes with a three bucket system… which is what we do here. The first bucket can be cold and is filled with a soapy lather to just scrub everything. The second bucket is the rinse bucket with hot water. The third is the bleach bucket and is pretty hot. Yep, it’s pretty sketchy.
Public Transportation
Oh, the matatu. Imagine a Nissan 14 passenger van…absolutely no leg-room. The outside is government regulated and must be some color with a yellow stripe around the middle. The outside must be pretty plain. But the inside—hmm, any creative license is acceptable. Subwoofers, music video screens, all kinds of music at full blast. Everything from playboy stickers to soccer player posters to R&B and Hip Hop posters. I am continually amazed at how cheap the matatus are. We have traveled for 2½ hours on three dollars a person. The matatus are the public service vehicle but the government doesn’t regulate the prices and the lack of a competent police lets the matatu drivers and conductors do whatever they want. There is always a driver and a conductor. The conductor sits next to the sliding door and advertises, harangues, and pretty much yells at everyone to get in and go with this matatu because it is SOOO much better than the newer, nicer looking one next to it. Oh, and this one time I actually heard a guy advertise the matatu we were riding in by saying in Swahili, “Come ride with me… Ride with white people.” So Jill, Bethany, and I are the new matatu advertising campaign. We’ve had some funny stories with matatus. One time, they actually crammed 23 people in a 14 passenger matatu. Another time, they crammed a rather large lady in the back seat with me and she pretty much exiled me away from MY seat. Then Jill and Bethany sat in each other’s laps and I eventually ended up sitting on top of the seats, banging my head on the ceiling frequently. It is actually physically impossible for me to fit my long legs in between the seats so I had to get up on the seats so that I didn’t have to stand in the seats. Then this Akamba lady starts yelling at me and cackling because I was on top of the seat. That was pretty annoying actually.
The annoying part of matatus is the fact I’m white. So we get ripped off quite often. Normally they charge mzungus (white people) double what they do the Kenyans. Oftentimes, we’ll talk them down and because we are beginning to carry ourselves like we know what we’re doing, they are beginning to know ahead of time that I’m not going to pay the crazy price. There have been a few times when the Kenyans around me will yell or gripe at the guy for overcharging us. If that happens, they usually charge us the normal price. It’s pretty frustrating that they charge us extra just because we’re white and they think we have more money. Reverse prejudice or something.
Ok, that’s enough random Kenyan observations for now, but I’ll keep answering questions and giving observations in the next couple of days… Bye for now.
lovewill
Food for thought:
“The real authority does not reside in the biblical text itself, in the ink on paper, which is always open to misinterpretation—sometimes, history tells us, horrific and dangerous misinterpretation. Instead, the real authority lies in God, who is there behind the text or beyond it or above it. In other words, the authority is not in what I say the text says but in what God says the text says.”
-Brian McLaren- New Kind of Christian
If I were to describe Africa in one word I would probably use the word: dichotomy. Everywhere I look, I see glaring opposites and the far extremes. Africa seems so alive…so vibrant and colorful…But, at the same time, never before have I seen so much death, so much pain, and so much despair. The dichotomy of life and death. So much life and so much death. I see a struggle between the age-old traditions of tribalism and the groans of development. Nairobi is a modern city…complete with modern conveniences and appliances. I’ve eaten the Kenyan version of fast food many times—fried dough in a triangle shape filled with meat, onions, and sometimes peppers. It’s called a samosa.
This place seems so ancient and comfortable in those age-old traditions. The culture is beautiful and definitely colorful; however, I see Kenya striving to develop culturally, politically, and economically. Therefore, daily I see the dichotomy and the struggle of a culture of tribalism that is testing its feet in the water of capitalism, democracy, and development. (I have many questions about whether or not the type of development that the West is seeking to impose on Africa is actually beneficial…not the medical and hygiene development, but the capitalistic and democratic development. But that’s a story for another blog).
Dichotomy…that’s my word for now. Even now, I know it’s changing and will probably continue to develop and change as I continue to learn and observe.
Hmm… here we go with the random my favorite things, my observations, and general info on our daily lives. To start with a funny example of a Kenyanism, look up to the last paragraph at how I started that sentence—“even now.” Of course Kenyans have accents, but the girls and I think it is hilarious how Kenyans always start with “even.” Even me, I will vote for this candidate. Even me, I want you to come with me. Even this one, she likes this musician. Even that one, he plays football. All the time. I think it’s hilarious and we always joke about it amongst ourselves… until the day when I actually said it without thinking. We were talking to a Swiss lady who is married to a Kenyan and I actually said, “Even me, I want to do_______.” Wow, the girls thought it was hysterical and I still here about it “even now.” Ha. So that’s my Kenyanism to start with.
Dishwashing, showers, and clothes washing…
I see more of the dichotomy of Africa with the complete schism between the ways of life. While at the YWAM base two months ago, we washed clothes in buckets, took showers with buckets, and washed dishes with buckets. Whoever is making green, blue, and orange plastic buckets is making a killing. When washing clothes, you use two buckets—one for rinsing and one for washing. My Kenyan buddy, Cliff, showed me how to grasp the end of a piece of clothing in your palm and take the other edge in your other hand. Then, briskly rub the end of the item against the part in the palm (actually on your wrist) and squeegee out all the soap and water as you move up the sleeve or pant leg. It definitely took some getting used to. The general tendency for westerners is to just put all the clothes in the bucket and then swish them around and around…then just rinse them. And the Kenyans laugh really hard at us because clothes don’t get clean that way and you can’t ever get all the soap out. When I first started to do it the Kenyan way, Cliff always laughed hysterically at my clumsy attempt to do it like a Kenyan. He says I’m better now. So that’s clothes washing.
Since that time, I’ve done everything from a washer and dryer to just a washer back to the buckets and even not washing at all. So I see the spectrum depending on where I am and with whom I’m living.
Back when I was in Boy Scouts, on campouts we washed dishes with a three bucket system… which is what we do here. The first bucket can be cold and is filled with a soapy lather to just scrub everything. The second bucket is the rinse bucket with hot water. The third is the bleach bucket and is pretty hot. Yep, it’s pretty sketchy.
Public Transportation
Oh, the matatu. Imagine a Nissan 14 passenger van…absolutely no leg-room. The outside is government regulated and must be some color with a yellow stripe around the middle. The outside must be pretty plain. But the inside—hmm, any creative license is acceptable. Subwoofers, music video screens, all kinds of music at full blast. Everything from playboy stickers to soccer player posters to R&B and Hip Hop posters. I am continually amazed at how cheap the matatus are. We have traveled for 2½ hours on three dollars a person. The matatus are the public service vehicle but the government doesn’t regulate the prices and the lack of a competent police lets the matatu drivers and conductors do whatever they want. There is always a driver and a conductor. The conductor sits next to the sliding door and advertises, harangues, and pretty much yells at everyone to get in and go with this matatu because it is SOOO much better than the newer, nicer looking one next to it. Oh, and this one time I actually heard a guy advertise the matatu we were riding in by saying in Swahili, “Come ride with me… Ride with white people.” So Jill, Bethany, and I are the new matatu advertising campaign. We’ve had some funny stories with matatus. One time, they actually crammed 23 people in a 14 passenger matatu. Another time, they crammed a rather large lady in the back seat with me and she pretty much exiled me away from MY seat. Then Jill and Bethany sat in each other’s laps and I eventually ended up sitting on top of the seats, banging my head on the ceiling frequently. It is actually physically impossible for me to fit my long legs in between the seats so I had to get up on the seats so that I didn’t have to stand in the seats. Then this Akamba lady starts yelling at me and cackling because I was on top of the seat. That was pretty annoying actually.
The annoying part of matatus is the fact I’m white. So we get ripped off quite often. Normally they charge mzungus (white people) double what they do the Kenyans. Oftentimes, we’ll talk them down and because we are beginning to carry ourselves like we know what we’re doing, they are beginning to know ahead of time that I’m not going to pay the crazy price. There have been a few times when the Kenyans around me will yell or gripe at the guy for overcharging us. If that happens, they usually charge us the normal price. It’s pretty frustrating that they charge us extra just because we’re white and they think we have more money. Reverse prejudice or something.
Ok, that’s enough random Kenyan observations for now, but I’ll keep answering questions and giving observations in the next couple of days… Bye for now.
lovewill
Food for thought:
“The real authority does not reside in the biblical text itself, in the ink on paper, which is always open to misinterpretation—sometimes, history tells us, horrific and dangerous misinterpretation. Instead, the real authority lies in God, who is there behind the text or beyond it or above it. In other words, the authority is not in what I say the text says but in what God says the text says.”
-Brian McLaren- New Kind of Christian
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