Day Six

I went to St. Catherine's primary school today and had an opportunity to see the school put on their best face for a van full of strangers. Each class had a presentation for us ranging from singing, to dancing, to poetry. The youngest child in this school is a 5 year old girl that has recently been enrolled. Mary found her on the street begging for food with her disabled mother, rather that give her money, Mary saw a way to give her a future. The mother agreed to allow the child to go to school but Mary insisted that she would need to board at the school full time. The child will attend classes at the primary school during the day then be moved to the secondary school where the many other teenage girls will help care for her in the evening hours.

I was drawn to the construction of the new classroom that was going on at the west end of the school. The field was covered with a layer of hand cut stones roughly 12 x 8 x 6 inches, sand, a tank of water and bagged cement. The stones were hauled to the work area where two men selected their placement then mixed the cement with water in a 5 gallon plastic bucket to then mortar them in place. The men (56 and 32 years of age) received a wage of 300 shillings (about $3.55) for a full days work. The older man had 5 children, and the younger man had 3, and each were very grateful for the work they had been provided. They told me the job market for mason is very saturated in Kenya as most men who do not get an education become a labor of some sort--I liken it to the men hanging out in the Home Depot parking lot looking for work in Salt Lake, and once again marveled at the value of an education, this is not a job I would want to have on a regular basis

As we boarded the buses for a trip back to the compound our in country directer selected a number of person to ride in a separate matatu. At the time we did not realize that she wanted to detour through Niavasha proper for a quick stop at a supermarket. I quickly saw that none of the younger members of the group was present. As we pulled up to the curb we were given very specific instructions as this would be the first time we were allowed out of the vehicle in a such a densely populated area.

The supermarket contained two entrances marked by armed guards, we were to quickly open the vehicle door and briskly walk straight past the guard and into the store. We were told to watch out for each other while in the store, shop for a total of 10 minutes, pay for our purchases and when we left the store walk immediately to the van, get in and close the door. No exceptions.

I felt like I was at Disneyland! I purchased a carton of ice cold yogurt, some string cheese, three apples, a pack of cinnamon gum, a can of pork and beans, a snack size can of Pringles, and a box of oatmeal. My purchased came to 380 shillings (about $4.30) and I was in the van with time to spare. Ironically days later when I attempted to open the pork and beans I realized I should have bought a can opener, when I asked a women on the kitchen staff to help me open it, she preceded to use a 10 inch kitchen knife to poke a hole in the lid, then proceeded to cut the lid loose as she turned the can-I had no idea!

Day Five

Crap! I lost my sunglasses, how is that even possible? I remember walking into the dining hall and the next minute they were gone....I kept checking my pockets and head but was not able to find them, where am I going to find another pair of Oakleys in Kenya? And more importantly, how am I going to last another 10 days on vacation without sunglasses.

I worked at St. Catherine's secondary school today. I began by cleaning and organizing the library which is housed in a 20X20 stone room with cement floors. Like many Kenyan buildings the roof is open under what should be the soffits to provide for ventilation, unfortunately, in this case it only served to make the room and books dirty......and spidery! That comfort zone of mine that does not enjoy dirty hands was really pushed as today, and I can not imagine reading a book that you can shake dirt out of, but this is the unique challenges that go with the area.

The topic we taught in the classroom of 14-18 year olds today was 'consequences' and at some point in the lesson I realized how culturally challenged we really was. How is it that we assume that the Kenyan students will relate to our teaching style? Why hadn't taken the time to consider where they would learn optimally? I sense differences when we speak, I hear them speaking English, and I speak English, but sometimes their language structure is not as ours-it is as if their process of speech differs. Couldn't that also mean their learning style is different too?

Did I mention I lost my Oakleys?

Day Four

I was anxious to get to work today and was assigned to work in the medical clinic once again. I woke up at 6 am and enjoyed breakfast under a beautiful Kenyan sunrise as I waited for the 7:30 departure time. The matatu we ordered was late arriving and then we realized that a 15 passenger vehicle was not nearly large enough for 15 persons and the necessary medical supplies so the morning began with packing and repacking. After a very lengthy stop at the pharmacy we were finally on the road to the clinic that was 'just down the road'

'Just down the road' was a 1 hour 45 minute ride to a service station where we used the rest rooms and stretched our legs. The restroom is called a 'long drop' It consists of a cement floor and a cement hole, the trick (for women) is to squat over the hole without having your pants rest on the previously dampened floor, to urinate, and redress while maintaining some sort of hygiene. When I stepped out of the stall I was somewhat surprised that the restroom did not have a basin sink in spite of the fact that the gas station had a very successful restaurant on the premises????? The good news was that the store had a soda cooler with Coke Light for 55 shilling (about 65 cents) the bad news was it was lukewarm and expired in November of 2011-and I was never so happy!

We arrive at an orphanage/boarding school in Njoro, Kenya, an agriculture town about 12 miles south west of Nakuru to a group of approximently 300 citizens lined up for the clinic. We were greeted with a song from the student body then were invited to the Directors office. Fourteen chairs were brought in to accommodate our group with another seven chairs for the school staff. The Director closed the door and began the meeting by introducing his group by name then requested we do the same. He then asked one of the school teachers to offer a word of prayer and immediately all fears and anxiety I was carrying were set aside.

The patients preregistered for medical services and the clinic ran orderly as a member of the school staff called the patients in order of their registration. School was suspended for the day so the lawn around the clinic held a massive group of patients and spectators. Here is a partial list of the more extreme cases that were treated:

1-a woman with leprosy on her leg (who sees that in Utah)

2-a young boy who had chopped the tip of his finger off early in the day

3-an older woman in pain for an illness she was previously told was cancer.

4-a young boy with a large, severe infection on his shin

5-a young woman carrying for a infant that was failing to thrive. The child's mother was deceased and the young woman was doing her best

6-multiple fungal infections

On the way out of the compound the children ran ahead of the van then disappeared, as we cleared the gates they jumped out and yelled "RAAAAAH" it is nice to see that some things are universal.

Day Three

In my last trip to Kenya, I had a Matatu driver tell me, 'Africans are a Christian people' and as today is the Sabbath day I was happy that the itinery included worship services. We traveled about 20 minutes northeast to a borrowed meeting room which was hosting a tiny 'group' of Africans meeting in the name of Jesus Christ. The unofficial number of members of this 'group' is 65 including a pair of missionaries from New York and Uganda, and couple missionaries from Ogden, Utah, so when our white faces joined the sea of black faces we quickly became one homogeneous unit. My heart was tender when I learned that this unit was formed only five months ago and as the names of six male members were read for sustaining in the Priesthood I could not help but feel humbled in the midst of this blessed people.

The ward choir presented several hymns and the words spoken over the pulpit were very timely and appropriate. We gathered after the meeting for soda and biscuits in hopes of extending our love to these saints and I was asked many times about what the Church was like in Salt Lake and how long I have been a member, eventually the ordination was conducted for the brethren receiving the priesthood.

I tired as the congregation continued to press us to 'tarry a little longer' and it was very clear that they were not wishing us to leave even as the event ran over 4 hours in length. We stopped by a building under remodel that will act as a branch meeting house once the membership becomes large enough to sustain such an organization, and I was left with a feeling of gratitude for the opportunity I have to worship in such ideal conditions.

After a quick Sunday afternoon nap we walked down to Lake Niavasha in hopes of catching a glimpse of the many hippopotamus that live in the area, and although the wildlife was scarce, we did see the area where 'Out of Africa' was filmed.

Day Two

We finally arrived in Nairobi, having arrived on the tarmac at 6:30 am just as the sun was rising. It was a good thing I was well rested as getting the group through customs, baggage pickup and loaded in the vans proved to be very taxing. We must have counted the duffle bags 100 times and my Type A personality kicked in more than once. It seemed like every time a duffle appeared on the conveyor belt the stack was recounted, and after the first three or four times I believe I would have put the bags in stacks of five.

We were missing about 30 of the 60 duffle bags and you guessed it, once we realized the bags needed to be reported lost we had to figure out who's bags were missing. Maybe putting the bags in stacks of five wouldn't have worked.....we should have lined up all 25 volunteers and had them stack their two duffles on the ground in front of them. Anyone who did not have two duffles should report their duffle as 'missing.'

We started at The River, a series of squatter encampments with numerous children in various stages of dress and uniformly dirty. The objective was to entertain the children while giving the parents uninterrupted time with the medical staff. It appeared (and smelt) like we were standing on a landfill and my heart was tender as I saw the children digging through what appeared to be garbage to find something to hold onto. Africa, like most countries, is quickly becoming a country of 'haves' and 'have nots' with a disappearing middle class. Poverty is as apparent as affluence-If I was in Africa who would I be? Where would my station lie? Would I be the one on the side of the road selling home grown corn roasted over a charcoal fire? Or would I live at The River?

The view of the Great Rift Valley was even more spectacular than I remembered it on my last visit to Africa three years ago with Scott. In some places you could see heaven, in other places the clouds were very low and almost to ground with a small amount of mist everywhere. The terrain was alive with brilliant colors, deep red dirt with layer upon layer of dark green foliage. It took my breath away.