Rhonda’s Ramblings

Some pictures from my Kenya trip. Only a couple for now, but there are more to come.

This first one is from when we helped out with Operation Smile. Our role was to play with the children and keep their minds (and their parent’s minds) off the surgery before and after. We used lots of diversions…bubbles, coloring, face painting. It was probably my favorite three days in Kenya. This is a photo of a little girl who had a cleft palate and no nose, so the surgeons had to create nostrils for her. It was amazing to be able to watch that surgery. This picture is after the surgery and her mother’s smile tells you how she feels.

One of the most beautiful sights I saw while in Kenya was when we drove around a corner and there are lush green fields full of colorful Kenyans with their tea baskets. The sun is setting and gilds the picturesque moment. Unfortunately we were driving and didn’t have time to stop and take a picture at that moment. But I did get a picture later on…just not quite as stunning as the first view.

And here I am with a beautiful girl named Margaret…who was also a lot of fun!! I think we had just finished some sort of throw or twirl or some sort of acrobatic when this picture was taken.

Well, that’s all for today. If you want to see more you can check out http://rmfo-pics.net/Kenya-Trip. And I will be uploading more soon.

This is not the first night that I have spent sleeping in London Heathrow airport. Though I don’t know if it can really be described as “sleeping” since they are doing construction in the terminal…and they do it all night long since there are no flights running. The construction combined with uncomfortable chairs with arm rests that make it impossible to lie down don’t make for very sweet dreams.

Can I just say that I do not like immigration control officers who don’t stamp my passport nicely. The man who stamped my passport upon entry into Greece pretty much looked for the fullest page there was and stamped there. Then when I left Greece, the man stamped on the same page again. And to make it worse, you can barely tell that it says Athens or Greece. It just looks like a date stamp. Then Mr. London passport control finds a page that already has 4 stamps. That is not allowed!! How in the heck am I supposed to fill up my passport before it expires in 2 years? I have less than 6 pages left, and those three stamps would have made it 5 pages. But thanks to the mean stampers, my goal may never be accomplished.

I’m trying to get my friend Libby to help me write my blog entry…but she is no help. She probably just thinks it is weird that I have a blog, and that I have internet friends. (And she has never heard the word blog before). Last night I forced her to hang out with one of my internet friends…which I’m sure was kind of awkward. But it was fun (And she does say it wasn’t awkward at all). But Mark (my internet friend) and I were quizzed mercilessly on how the heck we met and how in the world does a message board work….and asked, “Do the friendships you make feel like real relationships?” Heck yeah, they feel like real relationships. (It’s like the wind, you can’t really see it, but you know it’s there [Libby]) It was kind of funny. And I’m sure we didn’t convince them that we were normal. They probably think we are some kind of “internet hussies”…but that’s ok. I have fully come to terms with the fact that I have friends that I’ve never met and only know through the internet…and phone calls. And I’m even ok with having my secret internet life collide with my real life. It may make for some awkward moments, but it’s all about community, baby.

(libby wrote that last line )

By the way…I am in Greece, hanging out with my filthy friend, Libby, who I haven’t seen in almost a year. Fun times. (Filthy means cool in Aussie).

That’s all for now. Discuss amongst yourselves: the collision of real life and your internet life.

I do not understand why people insist on wearing watches that beep every hour.

On my flight from Kenya, which was an overnight flight, I was very happy, because there was nobody sitting next to me. But, I soon realized that the man on the other side of that empty seat apparently doesn’t know how to tell time.

He can’t look at his watch to see what time it is. He must be reminded every hour with an annoying “beep, beep”. Why in the world? Does he need it beep to remind him to look at his watch? Does he forget that time is passing unless he is reminded of it every hour? Or does he just want to annoy the living crap out of the girl next to him who is trying to get some sleep?

It’s hard enough to get sleep in a tiny little seat where you can’t extend your legs, and your head flops around. But inevitably as soon as I was about to nod off, I hear “beep, beep”. Argh….

Can anybody tell me why people insist on beeping watches?

Well, I haven’t actually made it to Trafalgar Square, but I am in London. I’m staying with a dear friend who I haven’t seen in a couple of years. In the land of babies….the neighborhood that Jo lives in has the highest birthrate in all of Europe. And it is noticeable when walking down the street. There are women (and men) with strollers (or prams) everywhere. Jo has an adorable four month old of her own, Ben, that I have fallen in love with.

So, life is good. Tomorrow I will be meeting up with another great friend and spending a couple of days with him before I head off to Greece to catch up with another wonderful friend.

I’m so spoiled!

This is my last night in Kenya.

Two months went by so quickly. This is the time that I should wax poetic…but I’m not very poetic in case you haven’t noticed that yet.

But I will just say that I will leave a piece of my heart with the people and land here. Just like I have left pieces of my heart in Honduras and Thailand and Australia….and all over the world. I have made some wonderful memories and would love to come back again someday.

I hear the drums echoing tonight
But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation
She’s coming in 12:30 flight
The moonlit wings reflect the stars that guide me towards salvation
I stopped an old man along the way
Hoping to find some long forgotten words or ancient melodies
He turned to me as if to say, hurry boy, it’s waiting there for you

It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in africa, I bless the rains down in africa
I bless the rains down in africa, I bless the rains down in africa
I bless the rains down in africa
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

(That song by Toto was on many of the mixed cds that I received. )

Kwaheri

I see so many things every day that I would love to capture on film. But instead I have to imprint them in my memory.

The man pulling his wooden cart full of vegetables on the same road with hundreds of cars, none of which have safe drivers.

The women carrying backbreaking loads of firewood on their backs…so they can have fuel for cooking.

The “restaurant” down the road that is serving freshly barbecued goat intestines, heart and head. And the best part is, you can see them cooking in the “window” as you walk by.

The bushes that everyone always seems to be burning in their burn pile…that smell suspiciously like marijuana.

The many amazingly beautiful flowers.

The hills of a thousand greens. The brightly dressed Kenyans with their huge baskets on their backs picking tea.

So many beautiful things that I ‘m unable to capture on camera, and even more unable to describe in mere words.

They are things that I have to “make memories”.

One of my friends used to always make us stop and “make memories” whenever we had an amazing moment that we didn’t want to forget.

First close your eyes.

Now listen closely to all the sounds around you. Capture them in your memory.

Now open your mouth…taste the air.

Open your eyes, and drink in all the sights around you.

Use your hands to touch and feel the air and the things surrounding you.

Now name the memory. (we always named it something really cheesy in mockery of her forcing us to make memories…but we enjoy it now. My favorite cheesy memory name is “Three hearts beating as one”.

You too can make memories that you will remember forever…or for at least a long time.

Only one week left in Kenya. I can’t believe it! It has gone by so fast.

I always have stories that I want to share here, but don’t have time on the internet to post them. So, you guys will just have to wait until I get home to hear the stories.

I had an amazing weekend at a hotel that is WAY above me. I couldn’t wear flip-flops to dinner. Can you believe it? But we got it for really cheap, and took full advantage of its amenities. We went for a horseback ride, which was really fun and got to swim a lot, and visited some neat animals at the animal orphanage, like the only existing cross between zebras and horses.

I was also on tv this week. When we helped out with Operation Smile, a camera crew came, and so some of the footage of me playing with the kids was on the news. I didn’t see it, but one of my Kenyan friends told me she saw it. Kind of fun.

Hmm…what else can I say?

Oh, we visited an amazing orphanage today that takes in abandoned or orphaned babies who are HIV positive. They nurse them back to health, and then they are adopted out. They have an amazing success rate. If they are not adopted out by age 3, they have to move to a different home, but they rarely have children who aren’t adopted out. And most of the time, the children who test positive for HIV when they come to the home will test negative a few months later. (A baby born to an HIV positive woman, can have the mother’s antibodies in his blood for months, and therefore will test positive. But if the child is raised well with good health and nutrition, they can get rid of the antibodies, and be HIV negative. I’m not a scientist, but this is my understanding of how it works.)

I can’t wait until I can upload some pictures.

If you were to get a souvenir from Africa, what would you like?

No, I’m not buying all of you souvenirs, but I just don’t know what people that I am buying for would want…

So, help a girl out.

Yesterday I went to a game park and saw 17 giraffes, many of them at eye level and only a few feet away as I was sitting on top of the Land Rover. I was in love. Giraffes are amazing creatures! It is moving to watch them run. They are so graceful and elegant. That is the best way to describe it. They are moving very fast, but are so beautiful.

We also went to an elephant orphanage where they raise orphaned elephants in order to release them back into the wild. They were very playful and cute. And I saw a couple of rhinos there. One of them a baby…and one of them quite large…who had been raised by them and now is living in the wild, but comes back to visit on occasion.

I have also seen….
Zebras
Wildebeest
Hardebeest
Water Buffalo
Ostrich (for Trey)
Chubby frogs that sound like a boiling cauldron when they croak
Impala
goats, cows, and sheep
Termites
and so many amazingly beautiful birds…some that make the most annoying sounds ever like the one we call the Dr. Seuss bird.

I haven’t seen any lions.

And does anybody know the water buffalo song? I have been trying to remember it, but can’t. Please help me.

I have been off doing ministry stuff for the last week, and have no email access at home anymore…our phone is down. But I’m having a great time, and will try to update again soon.

I got to work with my new favorite organization…..giving kids new smiles. More info later…

I miss you all.

So many visitors, yet so few comments! Please tell me you are reading.

I am sometimes a bit skeptical of child sponsorship programs. How much of the money you faithfully send every month really goes to the child whose picture hangs on your fridge? How does this money help them? Does the money go to children whose families are just waiting in line for a “handout” rather than a “hand up” to help them out of poverty? So many questions.
A few nights ago, I met beautiful woman from the Samburu tribe. Carol is 25 years old with bright dancing eyes, skin the color of dark chocolate, and teeth that shine when she laughs.
Carol is from a village that practices female circumcision (like so many areas in Kenya), and was circumcised at the age of 8. “The whole day was horrible for me. The women trapped me. My parents must have talked to them before. The women used a razor blade to cut me. It bled and bled and didn’t heal for at least 3 months.”
“I was very involved in church and the things of God, but my family wasn’t. I did not want to be circumcised, but I had no choice.”
Once a girl is circumcised, she is eligible for marriage. When Carol was 13, her father wanted her to become the 2nd wife of a 45-year-old man. This is not what Carol wanted at all, and she told her father that. She explained to him that as a Christian, she didn’t feel that it was God’s will for her to marry a man who was already married and wasn’t a Christian. But her dad was insistent. He told her that if she refused to marry this man, then she was no longer welcome in his home and would be kicked out.
After she was kicked out of her home, World Vision sponsored her. They paid for her schooling through Form 4 (high school). She was able to finish her schooling through their support. After finishing Form 4, she went on to take a Secretarial course and a Business course, and worked in the office of Food For The Hungry.
But more importantly, she loves God so much, and desires to pursue his will for her life. She is now very happily married to wonderful Christian man and they minister together and have a heart for encouraging other married couples. And she also desires to help to bring positive changes to her village, and to encourage young girls.
“I want to say to them to refuse circumcision, even if it means to be chased out of their home. There are some of us who will support them and accommodate them.”

I think that is a child sponsorship success story…a woman who I am happy to call my friend.

One thing I love about the African culture is that music is such a huge part of it! They sing often. Two of the Kenyan staff members who work here are always singing.

We went to a graduation party the other day for a lady who had just graduated from university. And when she arrived at the party, a bunch of her friends went out to greet her, and they “sang her in”. One lady sings a line, and then the other ladies repeat it as they surround her and follow her in. It was really neat, even though I had no idea what they were saying. Many of the tribes do similar things when a woman is getting married.

I love the way that life and music are intertwined.

You made the blues that stretch from sea to sky
A thousand greens they surround me, but to you it’s no surprise

As we crested a hill, stretched out before us was a panoramic view of the beginnings of the Rift Valley. The verdant rolling hills were dotted with Acacia trees and a few homesteads. The first view of this landscape almost took my breath away. And as we descended into the valley, the view continued to be breathtaking. I love the way that God has created so many different shades of green. It is by far my favorite color. A color that is peaceful, joyful, and sings of new life…and brings so much joy to my heart and smile to my face.

We were driving to a small Maasai village where HEART is working on a water project. This area is normally very dry and desolate, but since it is the season of “long rains “, the landscape was lush and beautiful. But a harsh joke awaits at the end of the road. There are big lakes of water, beautifully reflecting the blue sky. But, these lakes are full of salt water. Which is of no use to the Maasai cattle men. There is a salt processing plant there that is willing to help us in providing water for the tiny nearby communities, but unfortunately it looks as if it will be a slow process.

Have you ever fallen asleep during a sermon? Or during class? Yesterday, I didn’t fall asleep, but it’s only by the grace of God, or maybe because I was sitting on a tiny uncomfortable bench.

Yesterday, Paula (one of my teammates) and I went to a distant Maasai village to do a teaching on HIV and AIDS. We went with a missionary and a Kenyan man who was from this village and set up the appointment. When we arrived, we were asked to pay 100 shillings to enter the meeting, (apparently it was a conference that was lasting 10 days) and then were led to a bench in the front row. This is where we remained through the next 4 sermons. Sermons which were in the Kimaasai language and translated into Kiswahili, but not into English. Sometimes I have a hard enough time paying attention to an English sermon, but 4 hours of sermons in other languages…it’s a little much. Since we were in the front row, I couldn’t even observe all of the villagers with their colorful outfits and beads. But thankfully, there were some diversions. Such as the flies that landed on me constantly…some of them even mating while landing on me. There was a little tiny moth flying around and exploring that I watched for a while, but that got boring. They did have an altar call where many of the people came up to be prayed for, and it was at this point that I almost burst out laughing, which I’m sure would have been completely inappropriate. But as they were praying for these people, many of the ladies were being “slain in the Spirit” (I’m not sure why the men weren’t). Now, I grew up in a charismatic church, so this is nothing new to me. But whenever I’ve seen people being slain in the spirit, their whole body has remained stiff as they fall. These women were falling in the sitting position, and they were falling all over on top of each other, and I thought it was amazing that nobody got hurt. It was just a tangled mess of people, which for some reason was really funny to me.

I also had lots of time to think and ponder deep questions. Can one have faith without hope? If I have given up hope in a certain situation, can I still have faith that the end result will be what I had previously hoped for? I don’t really think they can be mutually exclusive. If I don’t have hope for something, how can I have faith that it will happen? I don’t know. I just felt that God encouraged me to have faith in a certain situation that I had previously felt he had led to me give up hope in. Maybe my problem is that I let emotion get in the way too much. Or maybe my problem is that I think about these things while Kenyan women are playing Twister with God right in front of me.

Whenever a new person got up to talk, we expected to be introduced and do our teaching, but that wasn’t happening…and we had no idea what was happening, since we couldn’t understand anything. After 4 hours, when it was past time for us to be going home, they told us that they weren’t planning on having us speak. This is something they had decided before we came, but decided not to tell us until 4 hours after we got there. It was a little frustrating to say the least. We had driven a couple of hours, 30 minutes of it on a dirt road full of ruts…well more like a dirt path. We sat there for 4 hours…and then drove back home, hoping to arrive in the city before dark. Such is life…especially in Africa.

Well the night was cold and my heart was hidden buried safely in a shell
But I knew somehow I’d have to run that risk I’d have to open up myself
But You said, look at the stars on the face of the sky
They’re the same ones Abraham saw
And under my wings I will make you shine
Give you strength enough to love
Oh, I’m getting strong enough
You helped me chip my way out
And open myself up

And for the snow that comes with winter
And for the growth that comes from pain
And for the joke I can’t remember though the laughter long remains
For the faith that brought the finish
All I doubted at the start

Lord I give you praise for all that makes the hatching of a heart

Well my face was smooth and featureless
Just like an egg
And if I was moving you would never guess it by the look upon my face
But you said Man looks without but I look within
I can see the love you hide.
It’s a matter of doubt.
It’s a symptom of sin
It’s a problem of too much pride

I, now I’m opening up wide. (I have no idea what this line says)…..has pulled out from beneath me and you’re teaching me to fly
For the strength that comes with friendship
For the warmth that comes with hope
For the love time can’t diminish
And for the time love takes to grow
For the moonlight on the water
For the bright and morning star

Lord, I give you praise for all that makes the hatching of a heart

I was reminiscing about Rich Mullins yesterday, so I pulled out the only Rich cd that I brought with me: Brother’s Keeper. (I was sad when I realized this was the only Rich cd I have with me). And this song stopped me dead in my tracks. I always forget how much I love this song. It never fails to speak to me. And especially right now, when I am struggling with dealing with the hurt that came from opening up my heart. But, I need to remember that God helped me “chip my way out and open myself up”. And he knows the pain that comes from a broken heart, but he also knows the growth that comes with that pain. I personally would prefer the growth without the pain, but that’s rarely how it works.

I also love the line “It’s a matter of doubt; it’s a symptom of sin; it’s a problem of too much pride.” How true is that? The reason that I don’t want to open up my heart is that I don’t trust God enough. And pride…that dreaded word that seems to be the root off all my issues. I don’t trust God because of pride. I think I know how the situation should work out. I think I know what is best. Dang pride.

So, once again, here I am again with the same issue…pride. So, I am asking God to continue to break down my pride. (Which is a scary thing to ask…it often takes heartache to break my pride ) And I’m asking that he would continue to chip away the walls that I put up around my heart…and that I wouldn’t continue to put those walls up despite the hurt.

I bet if I read my journal from 3 years ago, it would say the exact same things. Will I never learn?

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Let your attitude be as that of Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.
Phil. 2:3-8

It seems this passage shows up to convict me in almost everything I read lately.

I really believe that one of my spiritual gifts (as well as one of my primary love languages) is acts of service. Looking back over the last few years of my life, I see how much my servant’s heart has weakened. I used to be content to serve in the background and receive no recognition at all. Not only was I content in serving others, I really enjoyed that role. I still do enjoy it, but I don’t do it as willingly and joyfully as I used to.
I had a feeling before I came to Kenya that my role on the team would be a lot of serving. And I actually asked God to give me opportunities to be a servant and to give me more of a servant’s heart. And he of course has been faithful to do so.

The other day when we visited an orphanage, Vanessa and I ended up in the backyard, squatting on the ground (with the chickens) washing the dishes from lunch. We had very little water to wash them with, and it was a long, laborious job. We did dishes while the rest of our team played with the kids and got to know them. And we hadn’t even finished all of the dishes when it was time to go. It was not what I thought I would be doing when we visited the orphanage. But I’m so glad I got to do it. We did dishes with the sweetest lady named Josephine. And we had a lot of fun getting to know her. And I enjoyed being able to serve these children in a way that they wouldn’t expect.

And I’ve had a zillion other opportunities to serve in the background. Cooking, cleaning, making copies, organizing the guest rooms, shopping, running errands…the list goes on and on. “Menial Mondays” is the name Vanessa and I have given to our work days. I have definitely not maintained a good attitude about those serving days. But this passage reminds me that my attitude in serving needs to be like Christ’s attitude. He was willing to humble himself to the point of death. He taught us by example to serve others. He washed his disciples feet. He was a true servant leader. And that’s what he calls us to:

You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you should also do as I have done to you. John 13:13-15

That’s what God has been challenging me with lately.

Some other highlights of this past week:

Friday, we went to a Maasai community to do a health and AIDS education seminar. The church, which consisted of rough wooden supports with a canvas roof over them, was located on a hill that had a beautiful view of the lush green hills surrounding them. My role was to take the kids and play with them and keep them busy. That was wonderful, because that is what I truly enjoy. Emmanuel was the only one out of the 30 or so that spoke English, so he was my translator. And I especially fell in love with him and his sister Jane. We were supposed to go back to the same community yesterday, but because it had rained throughout the night, it was not accessible by car. Very sad. But I hope to go back again sometime.

Thursday, we went with one of the president’s wives, Mary, to her home village area and visited some clinics and hospitals. HEART (the organization I am working with) has a shipment of medical supplies arriving in Kenya next month, so Mary wanted us to visit these clinics in hopes that we would give them some of the supplies.

While I have had many “Menial Mondays”, I have also had the chance to have some adventures and amazing experiences. And I’m sure there are many more of both to come in the next month.

(I will put some pictures up soon of the last couple of days. I tried tonight, but it wouldn’t work. I did put some new pictures up a couple of days ago, if you haven’t seen those. www.rmfo-pics.net/rhonda

I don’t do well with people who are passive aggressive, condescending and manipulate by guilt!!!!

OK. I know I’m only adding one country…but it’s not just one more country, it’s a whole new continent. South America (and Antarctica) are next for this geography nerd.

create your own visited country map
or write about it on the open travel guide

It would be very difficult for one to be a successful Atkins dieter while in Kenya. (I am not on the Atkins diet, but if I were, I would have failed miserably) Most of their staple foods are all carbohydrates. When we visited an orphanage the other day, we were served chiapati (Kenyan’s basic bread product), rice, and a stew that consisted mainly of potatoes. I did have one tiny chunk of meat in my stew to give me a bit of protein.

But last night, I think I made up for three weeks of no protein. We went to a restaurant called The Carnivore, which as you can imagine serves lots of meat products. It is rated by some as one of the top 10 restaurants in the world. They grill all their meat over a huge open flame on huge skewers, and then they bring the chunk of meat to your table while it is still on the skewer and slice it directly onto your plate. They served many different things: chicken gizzards and various other chicken parts, beef sausages, impala meatballs, ostrich, pork spareribs, roast beef and crocodile. I had to try everything, of course. And most of it was really tasty, except for the crocodile. It tasted like fish, but had lots of fat.

I think that protein allotment should tide me over for at least a couple of weeks.

“Has the traveling ban for Americans been lifted?”
A team just arrived from the U.S., and yesterday we took them shopping in the city before they left town for their outreach. As we were shopping, one of the shopkeepers asked Vanessa and me this question. It took us a while to figure out what he was saying, but when we finally understood, we gave him a puzzled look. Neither of us was aware that there was a travel ban. I still don’t think there is (though I haven’t checked). I know that a couple of weeks before I came, there were no travel restrictions for American tourists, though there were cautions, since there is a Muslim population in Kenya and there have been some incidents in the past. I believe that the threat level may have gone up after the bombings in Spain, but I’m not sure. Maybe I should be more aware of these things. I do know that one of the precautions that Americans are urged to take is to stay away from places that are known as places where many Westerners (Americans and Europeans) hang out.

Of course, immediately after leaving the shop, our team went into the lobby of the Hilton Hotel, which is definitely a place that is frequented by Westerners. Then after some more shopping we went to dinner at The Carnivore, which is also a place that is full of mostly white faces. And the shopping center where we do much or our shopping (because it is close to our house) is known as an “American joint” by our Kenyan friends.

I don’t really stress about safety all that much, though I think we should us wisdom. I don’t think we should be reckless, but I don’t think we should worry constantly, either. God is in control, and I trust him.