Back from Africa

My friends have been asking me how my trip to Africa was. It is hard to explain it unless you have gone to a developing country to help. It is hard to share experiences that are difficult to describe, explain, or understand. The easiest way might be just to share stories that happened along the way.

First of all, I continue to meet amazing people on my travels. The people in Africa amaze me at their dedication, resilience, and pure faith. My fellow wazungus (whitey) also amaze me with their selfless service, love, compassion and generosity. 

I am learning new things every time I go to Africa, some of the lessons are harsh and not very pleasant to learn, but they are so very vital.

Lesson #1: Money is a curse as well as a blessing (duh!)

I guess I better explain this one a little more with a story. Our second Sunday we found ourselves worshipping with a very small congregation in Malindi, Kenya. This church was started by the Karabu family...12 brothers and sisters that live locally and work with the less fortunate. Two of the brothers decided to start a school on a small plot of land near the church. It is constructed of mud, rocks and sticks, but almost 200 kids between 1st and 4th grades attend. The church has a fundraising, or Harambe every month or so to meet the expenses of the school. We happened to be attending on Harambe Sunday. The fundraising part would be in the form of a food auction. Bid on various food items and win. They also add a fun element to the proceedings. They can accept up to 4 high bids, and then pick a winner through a raffle method.  So, first up was a dish of Kuku stew and Ugali (Chicken and polenta). You could buy the dish outright for 200 shillings ($3), or 4 people could put in 50 shillings a piece and they would pick a winner out of those 4, and the other 3 losers go hungry. I decided to just buy a plate and give it to three orphan boys who had no money to bid. I did the same with 5 hard boiled eggs (20 shillings each).  At one point I held up a 1,000 shilling note and told the auctioneers that I would pay 100 shillings for every ripe mango they could find. They brought me a basket of 40 ripe mangos! I had to find 3 other people in my group to help me pay for them all. I then just started handing out mangos to the crowd gathered. 

It was after this Mango Madness that I first noticed the women were getting a little agitated with the process so I asked one of the elders what was up. He explained that the white people in our group were bidding too high, and the villagers could not participate. For example the plate of chicken and ugali normally goes for 5-10 shillings per share (4 bidders getting a chance). We had driven the price up to 5 times the normal level! The locals were worried that there wasn't going to be enough for them to win! So we quickly changed the situation by stopping our high bidding after a plate or two, and letting the locals have the remaining 5-6 platefuls. Their overall donations were up because of us, but so also was the stress and hard feelings. Our attempt to be generous was causing issues because the locals couldn't keep up, and it was important for them to support their own school cause. It was an eye-opener for me. 

Africans are willing to help, but if we don't let them, they will just stand on the sidelines and wait for us westerners to jump in. If we set the parameters too high, they won't feel involved nor empowered. 

Be on the lookout for more stories and lessons...

Chow!