Mandazis for Kambi Teso

It's hard to eat Mandazis without your front teeth!

If you come to Kenya, (or one of my fundraisers), you will probably be served mandazis - traditional African donuts. Seems like every country has discovered the greatness of fried bread. I learned how to make these and really love making them for guests, teams, staff meetings, or just anytime! If you go to a special function or ceremony in Kenya you might be served chai and mandazis. Or if someone invites you to breakfast or for a meet-and-greet or hosts you as their guest - chai and mandazis! They are also served for special occasions and holidays. Last month, I made mandazis for our staff and then was thinking of the kids in Kambi Teso, and wondered how often they get a mandazi. I thought it would be fun to make some for all our kids in the feeding program. Mety and Elliot came over and helped - we fried mandazis for about 3 hours! I lined a laundry basket with a double layer of blue plastic garbage bags lined with paper towels, and we filled the whole bag! (I didn't consider that throwing them in straight from hot oil would melt some of the bag. Don't eat the blue mandazis!) We surprised Kambi Teso with them the next day. We've had a surplus of eggs at the village lately, so it just happened that the same day the kids were also getting boiled eggs with their lunch. It was like Christmas in June!

There were more than enough for the kids to have two mandazis each!

Waiting in line - "say mandazis!"

A lot of the kids saved their mandazis and eggs for last - not this one! =)

 Yum!

For some reason this day reminded me of a long time ago when I was little and a friend from our church took my sisters and I for a day out. We had a lot of fun that day but the thing I remember best was going to the mall and eating huge ice cream cones for breakfast. It was such a surprising treat - I still remember that day! So many times, I feel like there’s never enough I can do for these kids. I forget that even small things can have a huge impact! It’s easy to see the big picture and feel like I don’t have enough resources to change it. It’s easy to use that as an excuse to do nothing - but God says we should give whatever we have. When you get the chance to do something small for someone, just do it! 

“Do your little bit of good. It’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.”

 - Desmond Tutu

"One person can make a difference and everyone should try." 

- John F. Kennedy

Medical Clinics

 We've completed two medical clinics so far this year - one at the Open Arms village where we served a record number of people from the community - over 1,000! We also had a great clinic two weeks later in Kambi Teso and saw over 1500 people there. Both teams were really fun. The village team included doctors and nurses from the US that all had a great time running the clinic - hope they all come back next year! I'll never get tired of doing these clinics. The next clinic starts in five days in Kipkaren slum! 

  

 The pharmacy. We were really blessed in pharmacy this year - GREAT volunteers, a big space, and somehow a perfect location - we had a nice breeze when it was hot and sunny and somehow still stayed dry when it was down pouring!

 Our awesome nurse's station - whatever you need - wound dressings, injections, blood glucose, ear syringing, pregnancy tests, etc, etc - We had it all! (ok, so it's not heart surgery, but pretty good for a tent in a field!) This year the station was staffed by Jane, a Kenyan nurse who is practicing in the UK and was excited to join Open Arms and give back to her community. 

 This year we had some of the kids from our village come volunteer at the medical clinic. I gave one of them my camera for a while and he came back with this photo! ha!

 Outside the medical tent, ready to see the doctors. 

Two mothers waiting in the triage tent.

 This baby is holding his medicine in one hand and his prescription slip in the other. LOVE his hair! =)

More from Kambi Teso coming soon!!

Welcome Home

As most of you know, I spent April and May in the US. My cottage in Kenya was unoccupied most of that time, or so I thought. Apparently, a few of the locals seized the opportunity to take advantage of my vacant housing!

 Hello mouse.

My good friend Mety had said she would stay the night with me my first night back at the village. After I put clean sheets on her bed, I caught a flash of movement. "Mety!! There is something ALIVE in this bed!" (Honestly, I had just gotten a glimpse of the tail and I was pretty sure it was another snake!) My relief that it was only a mouse was short lived (snakes are MUCH easier to clean up after, and they don't usually move in as a family.) Oh yeah, they were in my bed too.

 I piled all the mouse bedding in baskets outside, because we don't have enough water at the village to do laundry right now. Then Mety and I cleaned and cleaned and cleaned!

 Thank you Kelsey, for leaving me some of the good imported peanut butter! I'm hoping this attracts any stragglers stowed away in the house. 

<------- How do you like THAT mouse trap??






Elliot, Ben and Karleigh came over for dinner, and after dinner we played cards for a few hours. After they left, Mety and I stayed up talking until around midnight when suddenly another mouse went streaking across the floor. I should mention that during the previous mouse excursions, Mety spent most of her time standing on a chair. Now? It was ON. Armed with two cans of Doom (spider/mosquito killing spray)  and a broom, we waged war.
The Doom didn't kill our visitor, but it seemed to confuse and blind him enough to keep him moving at a speed we could keep up with. We finally cornered our mouse in the kitchen, but hit a road block as he kept escaping behind the oven. We could fog him out with Doom, but as soon as the broom or trash can got close, he escaped behind there again. I pulled the stove away from the wall just in time to see his tail disappear INSIDE the back of the oven. Seriously?! I tipped the oven halfway over backwards and banged on the front and Mety blasted him with Doom every time he surfaced. When we got him out of there, the odds shifted heavily in our favor and I managed to pin him against the wall with the broom. It got a little violent after that - I'll spare you the details. The picture below is well after Mety and I had bagged our victim.

After that, we tucked our mosquito nets in tighter than EVER before and went to bed at about 2am.

The End.

...or is it??

Judy

  About 2 years ago, my mom chose to sponsor a child through Compassion International, and she chose a little girl in Nairobi, Kenya. Since I came to Kenya last May, she has been hoping that I could arrange to visit her sponsored child, Judy. I'm traveling through Nairobi on my way to Iraq, so I flew here early to visit Judy.

I only know a few basic things about Judy – she likes pink, she has two brothers and two sisters, she wants to be a doctor when she grows up. Beyond that, I really didn't know very much about this little girl or her family.

When I landed in Nairobi I was met by my Compassion host and translator, Emily, who introduced me to our taxi driver, Sumpton. It was morning rush hour, so some of our drive was pretty slow. It took a little over an hour to get through town to the slum where Judy lives. Finally, we parked in front of the church building that hosts the Compassion project. I walked along a freshly dug drainage ditch to get to the back of the building, to a small office where Judy was waiting with the project staff members. After introductions, we all sat around the table and prayed together, then looked through a notebook of photos and letters Judy and my mom have exchanged, and her school and medical files.

 Judy sat very quietly, blushing and looking away often, speaking only when spoken to. I gave her the pink backpack my mom had filled with school supplies, stickers, and a Bible. She happily emptied it onto the table and showed off her new things!

 After that, we walked to her home, which is only a few blocks from the Compassion project. We ducked through a small gate in a scrap wood/piece metal fence, and down a narrow corridor until we reached the door of Judy's house.

 I was quietly but warmly greeted by her mom and her older sister, who welcomed us in. I sat on one of the 2 beds arranged in an L shape along the walls. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness in the small room. Judy's mom Lucy welcomed me, thanking me for coming, telling me how much she appreciated Judy being sponsored by my mom and pointing out the mattress I was sitting on was a gift from Compassion. She told me that when her sister died years ago, she took in her three children and raised them as her own. They are all grown and moved out of the house. Now she continues to struggle taking care of her own five children. She showed me the necklaces she makes out of paper beads, and ceremoniously gave me two – one for me, one for mom.

Then she talked about the small business she started in the market a few months ago and her voice changed. She said that her oldest son, age 20, had just died in December. He was in Secondary school and had been doing well. Her eyes teared and she stopped talking. Emily continued, explaining to me that he died of Sickle Cell Disease, and that both of Judy's remaining brothers also have Sickle Cell. Their healthcare costs and the costs of the funeral used up all of the mother's funds, and she lost her market business. Lucy reached across the bed to a plastic bag and pulled out a framed 8x10 photo of her son and passed it to me. I'm not sure when the picture was taken, but the boy in the photo didn't look 20 years old, he looked like a young teen. He stared straight into the camera, unsmiling, with sad eyes and he was clearly sick. I looked up from the photo to the tear filled eyes of his mother and oldest sister, and my own eyes welled. Little Judy sat beside me, staring at the floor. I couldn't think of a single thing to say. Emily gracefully broke the silence, encouraging them about God's provision and His ability to change circumstances. Lucy dried her eyes and asked for me and my family to pray for them, especially for the two brothers to be healed. I promised them I would. Then I gave them the family gifts I had brought (flour, rice, soap, sugar, etc).

 

Judy's mom and sister stayed behind and I walked slowly back through the slum to the compassion project with Judy. When we reached the project again, I showed her how to work my camera and let her go take pictures. She pivoted in a circle next to me, pausing now and then to carefully click the button. Emily came to me and said the visit was finished, unless there was somewhere else I wanted to go. She left again to talk to the center staff and I turned to Judy, who wordlessly handed me back my camera. I put one arm around her.

“Judy, do you want to walk around somewhere? Is there anywhere else you want to go?” She hesitated for a few seconds, then surprised me when she nodded and whispered, “Yes.” 

“Where do you want to go?” I asked.

 “Mamba Village.”

 I had never heard of it and wasn't sure if I heard her well. “Where?” 

“Mamba Village,” she repeated. I asked Emily if she knew where it was and if it was far. She said that it wasn't far but we would have to drive there instead of walk. “Is it ok?” I asked. “If it's ok with you,” she said. I turned to Judy, “All right, let's go.”

We piled into the taxi, the project teacher sitting up front with the driver, and me, Judy and Emily in the back. Judy sat between us and folded her hands in her lap. “Have you been to Mamba Village before?” I asked. She shook her head. Emily asked her something in Swahili and when Judy answered, Emily looked to me and translated. “Some of the kids from the project went there in December, but Judy missed because of her brother's funderal.” I nodded and smiled, and managed to say something else to Judy, but inside I was completely overwhelmed. I've gotten to do some pretty cool things in my life, but this really blew my mind. If you heard of a 10 year old girl, living in a slum in Africa, who had missed out on a year-end party because she was burying her brother, you would want to jump on a plane, fly to Africa and throw her a party. And here I was, sitting next to this girl, because my mom asked me 8 months ago if I would go and see her. And somehow, this shy little girl had the guts to ask me to take her to Mamba Village, minutes before our visit was supposed to end. Here I was, handed the role of hero.

We drove about 25 minutes to Mamba Village, and as we pulled in, I felt Judy's excitement growing. You couldn't tell much, as she leaned slightly forward to look out the car windows as we parked, hands still folded in her lap. I held out my hand to her as we got out of the car and she slipped hers in mine.

We had what nearly every child in Kenya wants to eat when they get taken out: kuku and chips (chicken and fries). 

Afterward, we toured the crocodile enclosures (75 crocodiles? Seriously!) and the still shy Judy eagerly took my camera and snapped pictures, even giggling when I agreed to hold the baby crocodile first (except for the head) and shaking her head as the guide explained that crocodile eggs are all white, like milk, and taste like chicken eggs mixed with fish . Yummy. 

He asked me if I wanted to hold "even the head?" I said no!

Judy was smart - just hold the tail! No teeth there. =)

She went on the Merry-Go-Swing ride and got scared enough to yell out for the operator to stop, but regained her cool composure by the time the ride stopped and softly insisted that she had fun when we all asked her afterward if she was ok or felt sick.

 She got her face and hand painted, and by then it was after 3pm and time for us to leave. She walked next to me all the way to the car, and we took a few more pictures along the way.

As we drove back toward Judy's home, she sat just as quietly as she did before. But this time, she had scooted over to sit pressed against me, and every time I looked down at her she smiled. We were about halfway back when the taxi driver looked at us in the rear view mirror and said, “You know, she will never forget this day.”

Neither will I.

Do you need an Elephant?

Final plans for Kenya are coming together! I have only two shifts left at work, which really makes me feel like time has sped up all of the sudden. I will be leaving for Kenya in 17 days! My final meeting in Portland is not until May 16, and that is when I will hear the final details for my trip, what I need to pack, etc.

I recently read a book about a missionary who lived in Thailand. She told about a time that two lady missionaries were hiking through the jungle up a mountain trail to take food to a sick friend in another village. It was raining, and the mud and the incline of the trail was making it really difficult for them to carry themselves up the mountain. They heard a noise and turned around: an elephant was behind them! Elephants were not common in the jungle. This elephant and his rider were traveling the same trail, to another village where the elephant was to be hired to move some trees. The elephant rider took their packs for them, promising to deliver them the next morning when he was on his way down from the farther village. The women reached the village of their friend, and sure enough, the next morning the elephant brought them their packs. Turned out, that elephant never moved any trees. The only work he did was carry their packs up the mountain, and then he went back down. 

I loved this story so much. I can imagine if I were those ladies, struggling along under their burden, I would have been thinking that God just wanted to make life difficult for a while, give me some heavy labor to do. As my sister tells me all the time: "it's character building." But God cares for His children in all kinds of ways, and when He saw their need, He sent an elephant to help them! Whatever your needs are, God can take care of them. Even if you need an elephant. He'll find you one.