The trip started out great. We made all our flights, all our stops, and our luggage arrived as well. Every piece, with no damage! Our flight itinerary took us from Seattle to Washington, DC, then on to Brussels, and Burundi before landing in Nairobi. There were 9 of us coming from Seattle, and we were planning to meet my nephew from Eugene in Nairobi. His flight was landing a couple hours ahead of ours, and I asked him to wait at our gate and not to go through immigration and customs. We got off the plane and Nich was nowhere to be found. I searched all the other gates thinking he might be at the wrong one. I checked the sleeping rooms, the bars, and even the chapel. After an hour I decided to go through immigrations and then find some help. All of our bags arrived safely, and I even found Nich's bag pulled off from the previous arrival. We all headed through security to exchange money. I found a police unit in the airport, but they wouldn't help. Airport security referred me to the police unit, who referred me back to information. Finally a nice customs agent took me to the airport manager's office and he had Nich paged. An hour later, here he comes through immigration...wow, was I relieved. I think my brother and sister-in-law would have killed me if I had lost him! He said he thought our flight was delayed until morning, so he found a spot to grab a nap. Yes, he has the sleep habits of the dead, this I can attest to after rooming with him for a few days.
We had our connection flights through the domestic terminal the next morning, so we had to find a spot to crash for 4-5 hours. We asked the security guard at the domestic terminal if we could just wait inside...he was not cool with 10 of us with all our luggage dirtying up the just cleaned floors, but another security guard persuaded him to let us in. So he had to fire up the X-ray machine for us...not very tough, as he let me through with 96 pocket knives in my luggage. I use them as small gifts with people I meet...it works well when you give them something. At first the guard was typical...not too warm. He even warned us not to make him take us to the bathroom, that we should leave the terminal to use the public toilets. We chatted him up, and we gave him a knife and some small tip to thank him. After that, he was very friendly and was willing to take any of us who had to go to the restroom in the waiting area. We found out that he loves Clif Bars, Trail Mix, and beef jerky...our midnight snack and breakfast. There were two other groups of Muzungus (white folk) wanting to also wait inside the terminal, but he refused them entry. Funny how a little human warmth can change a person's perspective. He befriended us over a few snacks, and wanted to protect us. My initial worry about how and where we would spend the night was nothing to worry about, as it turned out.
Our total travel time from when we left Seattle to landing in Nairobi: 34 hours. We were hungry, greasy, we had bad breath, our feet stank, and don't even ask about how our hair looked. We needed bathing. The overnight on the floor of the domestic terminal didn't help our moods, or our appearances. But we freshened up as best we could in the bathroom a small group at a time courtesy of our new friend.
Our domestic flight was short. After an hour of flying over the beautiful countryside we landed in Kisumu, Kenya, the site of our first week's work. We would spend the week with Jared Odhiambo, Kotieno Thomas, and James Were. These 3 gentlemen started the work 13 years ago. They were three young men going through seminary and befriended a young AIDS orphan. When they found out he wasn't getting food or education, they decided that they found their ministry. They worked menial jobs to get money to spend on food for their growing group of orphans once word got out. Thomas used to break big rocks into smaller gravel sized rocks by hand, then spend all afternoon selling it. Everyone pitched in however they could. Today that work is an 8 classroom school, a health clinic, orphanage home for 60 kids, and another school in Jared's home town. All together they help over 600 children that can't help themselves.
Jared, Thomas and James met us at the airport and carted us and our baggage to our first guesthouse of our trip...St. Anna's Guesthouse. A nice, well-kept hostel-type accommodations. Sparse, but comfortable. Each room had its own bathroom, which is nice. We doubled up on rooms and quickly cleaned up so we could go meet the kids. They had been waiting in the sun patiently for us for over an hour when we finally arrived.
Before meeting the kids, we were asked to tour the VCT Clinic (Voluntary Counseling and Testing). The Kenyan Government does not want these called AIDS or HIV clinics because of the stigma attached, so we oblige and whitewash the name...everyone in the surrounding area knows what it is for. Our small 3000 sq ft. building tries to bring healthcare to a slum of 500,000. Overwhelming is the word I use. The kids continue to wait in the hot sun as we get the tour. We brought along medicine that my brother, the doctor, was kind enough to donate. The clinic has sent us a list of drugs they were hoping to get, and he bought every single one for the clinic. Not enough for a whole year, but enough to keep them going for a few months. Any money they can save not having to buy medicine can go towards the nutritional programs of HIV treatment. We were worried that it wouldn't make it through customs with all our drugs. They are valuable, and we didn't have a doctor in our group that could write presciptions for all those meds. We said a prayer in the US asking that we get through customs without any inspections. Not a single one of us was stopped in Nairobi. We dropped the meds with the VCT director and he mentioned to us that it looked like about 1 months worth of medicine. A few of us were deflated, all that trouble for just a month? Later on, when he could go through each bag, he was moved to tears. He told me later at dinner that he was so pleasantly surprised at not only the quantity, but the value of some of the medicines. See, my brother decided that he would go off the list and send some medicines that he knew they needed...tapeworm treatments, major antibiotics for malaria, and chewable medicines for the children.
After an hour in the VCT, we were finally able to meet the children. They had been waiting that whole time in the sun. We held an impromptu assembly with them singing to us, and we introduced ourselves to them. We then got to hand out sacks of rice and beans for the children to take home to their foster families. It is important that the orphan feel like they are truly contributing to the household, or else they will feel like they are a burden to those that care for them. They get 4 kilos combined, which will help feed their foster family for a few weeks. The children are fed at the school 2-3 times per day. That is the only way Jared can guarantee that the kids get fed. They found if they give food to the foster family, the child may not actually get enough to eat. So he feeds them 7 days a week. 6 days of school, and Sunday is Bible School. He used to feed them 3 meals a day, but with costs going up, funding going down, he had to make a tough call. We are starting to see the effects of losing supper. The children's grades are suffering because they do not have a safe place to do homework. It used to be that they would come for supper after school. After eating, they would go to their class and work on homework until 8 pm. They would leave the electricity on for them. Now without that 3rd meal, they are home earlier, and the foster families need work done...chores, etc. The children are obligated to help, and are not able to keep up with their schoolwork. But this doesn't discourage the kids...they are still appreciative of 2 big meals a day, and free tuition at the school.
After the kids rush home with their sacks of food, it is time for their lunch, after lunch we would visit each classroom and hand out something small for every student. A pencil and a silicon bracelet. They thought it was Christmas, we were embarrassed at the size of the gifts. They need shoes, clothes that aren't torn, and underwear. We give them pencils.
One member of our team has found her calling. She started the entire adventure being the most unsure, worried, scared member. She wasn't sure she could do all the flying, she was worried about the food, disease, the mosquitos, and HIV. She went into the kitchen where the cooks prepare the meals for the children and went right to work. She learned that feeding 400+ kids at a time is difficult when you are cooking over open fires, and you have a sink the size of a cruise ship bathroom. But the cooks don't complain about black lung, or the conditions. They only have 100 or so bowls and plates...that means the kids eat in shifts. When one group is done, the plates and mugs are collected and washed, sometimes 3-4 times per meal! Imagine being the dishwasher...Chante did it all. She decided right then and there that something could be done. She was looking for a special project to fund, and she decided that the cooks needed some help. We went to the local super store and bought as many bowls as we could find (97) and 100 mugs. She also threw in serveware, dish towels, dish soap, and 3 large baskets to carry dirty dishes in. Moved to action...I love it!
We spent the next couple of days rotating between 3 opportunities: 1) working in the classrooms to hear the kids stories, teach them a new song, and just getting to know them, 2) working with the local missionary as he shared the gospel to a group of locals at Dunga Point, where the fisherman on Lake Victoria gather to sell their day's catch, and 3) help the missionary's wife in her ministry of home visitation of the bedridden AIDS sufferers. Pretty emotional and powerful stuff going on in the world. Humbling, depressing, joyful, and hopeful all at the same time. They heard the story of a woman on her deathbed, finally getting her anti-retrovirals (ARV) therapy. She is now up and about sewing to make a living. One of our team is considering a microfinance loan to help her buy the sewing machine she is now renting. Another member bought a skirt that she had sewn, over-paying of course for that garment. Our team's generosity toward the people is demonstrated in different ways. Each group rotated through half a day. And they wanted more. Such caring, compassionate hearts. I am lucky to be a part of this work.
Chow!
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