Dreams of a young girl

Our Christian Relief Fund roots run deepest in Kisumu, Kenya where we have had about 5 years of operating experience. The work there is centered in the Nyalenda slum, where over 500,000 people call it their neighborhood. The Ring Road Orphan's Day school has over 500 kids from 1st to 8th grade attending daily. They get 3 meals a day, a good education, healthcare, clothing, and as much love as we can give them. That is still not enough, but they seem to make do, and are thriving.

This trip we purposed to repaint the entire school building inside and out. It started out as a huge moving and cleaning project as the building was scrubbed top to bottom in anticipation of receiving a fresh coat of paint. I was put in charge of cleaning walls on the inside. One thing about these kids, they love to help. I don't know why, but they will hang around you watching you work a scrub brush and then somehow take it out of your hands to finish the job. They are not afraid of hard work, and never ever complain. I need my American kids to see this for themselves. My work crew consisted of 3 pre-teen girls. The ringleader was Marcy, a 6th grader. She and her two friends were helping me scrub the walls and remove any tape or glue remaining from the posters we took down earlier. As we worked we talked. They mostly wanted to know about life in America. They asked me about my family, my house, my kids, on and on. No details could be left out; they wanted to hear it all! So I told them what life was like in the US. They were eager to come to the US to thank their sponsors. So I started asking about their sponsors. Marcy is sponsored by a group of college students from Tennessee, her friends by individuals in Texas and Washington. Marcy told me how much she loved her sponsors and wanted them to come visit her in Kenya to see how she was doing. The girls then started talking about prior visits groups had made to Kisumu...they remembered each and every one of us by name. It was touching to hear them talk about us in such loving ways. 

I asked them one other question. I asked them what they dream about for their lives. One girl dreams to be a doctor so she can work at the local VCT (AIDS Clinic) to help her neighbors. One girl wanted to be a teacher at Ring Road or another school. Marcy wants to be an engineer. Her dream is to tear down the slum and create affordable good and nice housing. She doesn't like the way the slum is old and ratty. She dreams of nice houses like what she hears about in the US. I told them I was proud of their dreams. Marcy continued on...she told me that she has been at the school as a sponsored orphan for over 3 years. She came as a 9-year old after her mother died. She told me that 3 years ago she couldn't have dreams. She was trying to survive, and her dreams consisted of thoughts of food and the endless hunger she felt. Because of her sponsors in the US, she was fed, clothed, educated and she felt loved. She said she can change her dreams because of people she doesn't know, yet can still love. It is amazing how small gifts like monthly sponsorship can accomplish big things. That $22 each month that a sponsor sends for these kids really does change a life. Marcy is testament to that. She giggles and laughs like any pre-teen. She has awkward moments and is easily embarrassed like the child she is. But I don't know many 12 year olds that have changed their view of life as much as Marcy has. 

I didn't get to spend enough time with this remarkable girl, but the 2 hours we spent together will be with me forever. I hope all 3 reach their goals. I pray that their sponsors continue to put a priority on them during this tough economy. 

If you want to help, I urge you to sponsor a child through Christian Relief Fund. (www.christianrelieffund.org) There are hundreds of children like Marcy on our waiting list. They currently watch the goings-on at Ring Road from beyond the gate because they aren't sponsored. It breaks my heart to see them look on the activity at the school and want so badly to come in. Maybe their dreams can be changed too.

Chow!

"Chef" Larry

Okay, here is a funny story from Africa. My stories from Africa will run the gamut: emotion-packed, humorous, political, serious, religious, and personal. This is one that had a few of us laughing for most of our trip. 

Part of our "service" work on our trip to Kenya was to prepare and serve a meal after Sunday service wherever we were at. My turn in the kitchen was to be on our first Sunday in Eldoret, Kenya. 

Eldoret is one of CRF's newest projects, barely 2 years old. We started that work after my last visit. The project leader, Francis Bii is a rock-steady man that is accomplishing a ton with a little support. They are currently feeding and educating almost 2oo AIDS Orphans in the immediate area. So naturally we wanted to do whatever we could to lift their spirits, and for me, nothing works better than a good meal.

Our plan was to help their church members cook a big meal in celebration of our visit. We paid for food enough for all their church members and some visitors from the neighborhood slum. We were told to plan for 500 people! Our menu was a typical East African meal: stewed chicken, greens, potatoes, stewed mutton, rice, and beans. While services were going on, we cooks slaved over hot charcoal fires stirring mountains of food. A typical kitchen in Africa is not outfitted the way a western kitchen is. If you need another burner, start another fire! If you need a pot to cook in, move something out of the pot you want and put it in another container, any container! Hot pot holders to pull giant vats of cooked food off the fire? No such thing...find some cardboard, fold it up and hope it doesn't burn through to your fingers. Air-conditioned comfort? Nope, stand by the window and hope a breeze comes through. Waist high counters to chop veggies on? Get real! In Africa you bend over and chop everything on the floor! Now that I have painted the scene, we will get to the story.

Cooking everything in time for lunch required perfect timing, rushing around, and lots of choreography of moving food from pot to storage container. We were moving in a well-choreographed manner. 3 huge tubs of beans, 2 equally large tubs of perfectly cooked rice, 2 pots of potatoes, one giant one of greens, and one each of mutton and chicken stew. I had cut my finger earlier, and had a bandaid put on to help protect it from the heat, salt and other things that could possibly infect it. Finally it was time to serve everyone. A long line of people formed and we began dishing food out as quickly as we could. It was hot, thankless work and my back was killing me. I had seen the food prepped and cooked, so as my western pals moved through the line, I was warning them which foods to stay away from. For sure the Chai...I was watching them brew pot after pot of tea with milk and sugar and then dumping it into a large 20 gallon jerry can. I was pretty sure the can had been previously used for storing Permethrin, a very strong pesticide. 

I was on rice detail, and well onto the second large pot of rice when I noticed a sharp burning sensation whenever the hot rice touched where I thought my bandaid was. After the crowd started thinning, I looked down and noticed that the bandaid was missing!  Somewhere in that crowd of 500 people someone got a surprise in their meal. I hope they noticed what it was and didn't continue chewing when they found it!

I was finished serving and was chatting with my friends Julie and Milton. We were commenting on how the food was prepped and held for service, and I mentioned that I lost something during the serving of the food. Julie asked me what it was and I told her about my missing bandaid. I thought she was going to pee her pants she laughed so hard. She had to tell Milton, who also laughed uncontrollably. It may sound disgusting to many of you, but the humor in all of this for those of us that were there comes from the setting...chopping vegetables on a dirty floor, cooking over an open fire, the unsanitary conditions of it all...and one lost bandaid. Throughout the rest of the trip, whenever we wanted a laugh, we would mention the lost bandaid. Even now you will see references to it on our FaceBook pictures...now you all know the inside joke.

Chow!

My New Friend Chase

I met a new friend on my Africa travels. He is warm-hearted, generous, hard-working, faithful, funny, and I believe he loved his time in Africa. He is a young man with awesome potential. His name is Chase. I promised some stories, so Chase is one of them.

Here is the interesting part, Chase had zero interest in coming to Africa with his mom. He was being "punished" by his parents, or so he thought. He didn't go into too much detail when I asked him a few days into our trip if he was glad to be in Africa. Instead he asked me back, "Did my Mom tell you I didn't want to be here?" I fibbed a little and said, "No, I was just making conversation." Here is the truth: his Mom didn't clue me in, but others on the trip had. He followed up with, "I REALLY didn't want to be here. In fact, while we were in Houston making our connecting flight to Amsterdam I begged my Dad to let me come home. He wouldn't let me." I asked him why his folks were making him come to Africa. He mumbled something about "his attitude" and something else, but I could tell it was something he didn't want to get into, so I quickly changed the subject, sort of. I told him if he were my son and had asked if he could come home, I would have told him to start swimming. We laughed at that one. From that conversation I knew I needed to help Chase connect with Africa...to experience a life-changing voyage. He needed to see what kind of life of privilege he lived, and how much he took it for granted. From that point on, I made it my business to make sure Chase experienced a little bit of everything. Whenever we met a new group of Africans, I made sure Chase gave a little introduction of himself. Whenever we had thought-provoking opportunities, I always asked him his thoughts. I wanted him to learn about the culture of Africa, so I shared with him as best I could about the people, the customs, the food (partially unsuccessful), and the country. I hope he learned how to travel internationally from me.

We became friends on that day. I enjoyed his company and our conversations. I got to know his mother, and in a way, she introduced me to her husband and Chase's father. They are great parents.

I think America has too many distractions for our young people. There are so many choices and unlimited opportunities that our kids take all these blessings for granted. There is no struggle for our daily bread; it shows up on our plate whenever we are hungry (or not even hungry). They obsess about their appearance because they can, and they worry about what others think of them because they are thinking the worst about their peers.

In Africa, the struggle for survival is truly life and death, and it shows. The joy young Africans show when they get a good meal (one with meat included) is real. Watch a group of young people when you give them a used, ratty soccer ball to play with. They are excited because now they don't have to play with a homemade ball made of shopping bags and twine. When you see this and compare it to your life in the U.S., you begin to understand how good you really have it. Ask an African orphan to show you his worldly possessions. You will be shocked at how little they have. It might be a ragged stuffed animal that was given to him 2 years ago on your last trip. It might be a picture of him that was given to him years before. It will be as well cared for as possible. Privacy? What a joke...the average orphan sleeps with 2-3 others in the same bed.

I think this is part of what Chase experienced in Africa. First and foremost, he learned that kids are the same everywhere. He played basketball and soccer with some of the boys his age and the competitiveness and trash-talking was the same. The language might have been different, but nothing is lost in translation when someone questions your abilities. He hates to admit it, but I think he also learned that sometimes Mom and Dad do know best. He needed to come to Africa to reset his moral compass. He needed to see that what he thinks is difficult is nothing compared to the difficulties he saw in the slums. Wealth? Compared to his orphan counterparts, his family is blessed beyond measure.

The best lesson he learned is that people love him all over the world. His new friends from Seattle, Kisumu, Eldoret, and even Amarillo love him a lot.

How long will these lessons stay with him? I hope a lifetime. But I also know that it is too easy to get caught back up in our world of excess everything. I am praying for you Chase!

Chow!

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!

Empty-Nest

My youngest just graduated from high school over the past weekend. It is a strange feeling to realize that the house will be empty most of the time now. It has been slowly happening for a few years now, but the finality of it all hit me on Saturday night as I was cleaning the patio after her party. Our life as parents of "dependents" is over. Sure, they will always be our kids, and need something, but they are not dependent solely on us anymore. 

I worry that she is not ready for this type of independence...but then who ever is? When I look back over the past 18 years, I don't want to even admit that she is ready to go. One of our traditions is to make a "Then and Now" board of pictures to show friends and family at the party. There are various pictures of the kids that have eerily similar snapshots of them much older. Melanie playing dress-up as a 5 year old juxtaposed to her prom pictures...sniff, sniff. Melanie in her blow-up swimmies vs. her on the podium at a swim meet. You get the idea...I was amazed at how her interests have remained constant over the years...music, swimming, and culture. 

The most fun I had was talking to adults that know her from her school or at work. To hear their comments about how responsible she is (really?), how confident, smart, clever, diligent, etc. puffs me up with pride. She was selected as the John Phillip Sousa winner in the music department...huh? The band department head spoke of her ability to play almost any instrument with confidence and skill. He asked her to move to tuba this year, and she has excelled. He loved her attitude, her willingness to help her fellow students, and her dedication to being a great musician. This is the girl I can't get to remember to turn her lights off in her room. 

Her senior project was so well accepted not only by the school, but also by the town council of our hometown! I was surprised in an amazing way. More adults want to hear her presentation, buy her book and get to know her because of the topic she selected and the work she put into her project. She even has a job offer for the summer from the Burien Historical Society. She will be presenting her project to the Town Council of our hometown later this summer. She is gaining experience presenting in real situations to high-level officials. I can't be prouder of her.

I can't wait to see what kind of adult she will become while away at school! 

Her graduation party was the highlight for her. She was afraid it was going to be a small affair with just family present because many of her friends were already committed to other events that evening. Well, she still had a crowd of about 40 show up. We almost ran out of food! No, I am kidding...a Wu never runs out of party food. I planned a great finger-food menu of Teriyaki Chicken Wings, Vietnamese Spring Rolls, Larb Lettuce Cups (never heard of them? Yum!), my Fried Chicken Macaroni Salad (Double Yum), Grilled Shrimp, and sandwich platters. For dessert we had cake (of course), a CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN, and later, S'Mores on the patio. We set up the Guitar Hero and had battle after battle. Kids, adults, everyone played. She was impressed with the party and was gushing with thanks to her mom and me...that was a first. She was actually pleased with the outcome! We didn't disappoint her! WooHoo!

I think her pleasure was really based on the fact that it was all about her. She has always felt that she lived in her big brother's shadow, but this week was about her accomplishments, and she finally realized that she measured up. Not that we have made those comparisons, but she had, and she is happy with the results.

Like I said...I can't wait to see how this springboards her to success as an adult. This was the perfect ending to her HS career...now she has the confidence to know she can succeed in college.

Chow!

Where did the time go?

Crap! Leaving for Africa in 6 days and not ready yet. Last time we went to Kenya, I had weeks to prepare and ready my mind, organize my projects, and plan a worthy agenda. Not this time. Too much going on with family events (Melanie's graduation from HS), work events (getting a deal closed), more work events (trying to help a friend start a company), and even more work events (helping another friend start another company). 

I want to bag it all, take two weeks off to meditate, and then figure things out, but I don't have that luxury. It isn't about me anyway...that is what I have to keep telling myself. The busyness of life is Satan's way of keeping my mind off of what is true religion...helping orphans and widows in their distress.  Too often I justify the busyness of my life by calling all this interest "God's blessings". I am not sure that is the truth. I AM sure of what is the truth...the work we do with Christian Relief Fund with AIDS/HIV orphans in Kenya, Tanzania and other places in Sub-Sahara Africa. 

I have 6 days to focus my heart and mind on that. It is tough...everyone seems to want a piece of me lately. 

A group of 6 of us leave Wednesday the 1st of July for Kenya...a group of 13 from Amarillo, TX will join us in Amsterdam along the way. Our mission is to help several groups of AIDS orphans and the men and women ministering to them. Francis Bii in Eldoret is a saint. In two short years (since our last visit), he has fed, educated, cared for, and ministered to hundreds of orphans in the name of God. He is not only taking care of the orphans, but entire villages affected by disease, drought, political strife, or just plain hunger. I am amazed at how much he does with so little we give him. So, when we land in Eldoret, the 19 of us are going to do a few things: 1) build desks for the school he has started; 2) maybe buy the school for him; 3) fund another microfinance project or two; 4) just show him some love to let him know he is not doing things in vain, and that we notice.

The rest of the time we will be back at our favorite place, Kisumu, and the Nyalenda Slum. Jared Odhiambo has turned part of that large slum into a refuge of education, healthcare, spiritual warfare, and normalcy for hundreds of AIDS orphans. The people there need us to help them figure out what is next for their little community...how do we expand what they already do well? How do we commercialize things to make them sustainable? Again, we will turn to Microfinance to see what can be done for the people. We will also do some housekeeping and paint classrooms, repair things, and re-stock supplies as necessary.

I am excited to go. I am unprepared, which is unlike me. I hope a wave of panic hits me soon and drives me to get ready! For now, I need to clear my mind of the clutter that has filled it lately, and focus on what is real.

Chow!

Not Sure Ray Kroc Had This in Mind...

The post on my FB wall needed a little deciphering, "Wuster, are we going for a McGangBang or McWhitey before I have to eat sensibly again? I am out of here on Wed..." My friend Matt from the UK was in LA visiting our mutual buddy, Jana and he was tired of eating healthy foods. Why he turned to me for help in eating unhealthily boggles me. Earlier in the year we had a FB conversation about a controversial McDonald's non-menu item circulating the blogosphere. We jokingly said we had to try it. That time had come.

Jana was in no mood to join in on our grubfest, so we left her in her jammies (at 6 pm? c'mon Jana!) to seek the mythical meal. I guess I'd better describe the objects of our quest: Legend tells of a mythical meal that can be ordered at McD's...a McGangBang. Not your politically correct naming convention, but attention-grabbing for sure. Born from late-night, after party, post drunk feasting (as most of these monstrosities are), the McGangBang is two sandwiches shoved into one jaw-stretching beast. It is built from a Double Cheeseburger with an entire McChicken sandwich inside. Yes, the whole thing...bun, beef, cheese, bun, chicken patty, lettuce, mayo, bun, beef, cheese, onions, condiments and finally another bun. Yeah...someone says, "bring on the Plavix!" 

But where does one begin the quest to slay the mythical beast? We began our search a mere 6 blocks from the home in Santa Monica. Too refined, we thought? What better test of an urban legend than to try it here. Remember, I did say my buddy Matt is from the UK, so we played the tourist role. Camera-ready, full British accent tweaked, we approached the counter. "We would like a McGangBang, please." Tony, operating the register blinked once, twice and then cleared his throat..."wha?" This time slower, with descriptions and hand gestures, "you know, the secret menu sandwich." Still, no response. He kept pointing to the menu above him, saying "I think you need to order off the menu, we can't make that." Jaime the manager walked by and asked if Tony was having a problem. We asked Jaime the same question, "can we order a McGangBang?" Jaime has been around the block so he knew exactly what we wanted, "Oh yeah, two burgers, cheese and a McChicken?" Hallelujah! He shoved Tony aside to show him how to ring it up. He said, "We have been getting a few of these orders every week." Then he went to the back prep area to show them how to put it together.  Then Matt stumped him...he asked for the McWhitey sandwich. Even though he hadn't heard of that one, Jaime was game and asked us what that one was. We explained carefully that it was two Filet-o-Fish sandwiches with a McChicken sandwich in the middle...extra tartar sauce. So, bun, fish, cheese, tartar, bun, chicken patty, lettuce, mayo, bun, fish, cheese, tartar, and a bun on top. Jaime's fingers were a blur on the register as he punched 4-5 buttons to get this one to ring up. Most of the rings are from the Dollar Menu, so it is a pretty fair value. Our total? Around $11 for the sandwiches, fries, and Jaime threw in for drinks. What a guy. The girls in back were laughing as they built the sandwiches, but our quest was almost over. Mission almost-accomplished.

Okay, the ordering is done, food has arrived. It is beautiful to behold...well not beautiful, maybe more like a wonder to behold. Jaime and crew packed them into the largest sandwich cartons they had. "For here, or to go?" How does one eat a multi-layered sandwich on the go...definitely for here. We quickly decide that I would try the McGangBang, and Matt would tackle the McWhitey. We would share a bite, but we would each own a conquest. A quick prayer of thanksgiving (no really!), and wade on in.

The McGangBang is as expected...almost too big for my mouth (I can hear my friends laughing now). But the flavor is very good. The chicken just adds a bit of "fried" flavor and a little tougher texture to the double cheeseburger experience. It is delicious. One has to do a little smooshing, or compacting to get it bite height, but the cheese holds it together. A few pickles add a nice tartness to the flavor that is just right. Matt has promised to go "unprotected" next time...that is the term for a spicy McChicken in the middle. 

The McWhitey is still fish-dominant in flavor. The height surpasses that of the McGB because of the thickness of the fish filet. The chicken is lost in all the fishiness, but the eating quality is still acceptable. We will pass on this one in the future.

So, Matt and I put an urban legend to rest...you can order a McGangBang sandwich from the secret menu at McDonald's. Don't forget to be nice to the manager.  

Chow!