Nairobi, Kenya - October 6th 11:59pm
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Nairobi, Kenya
My journey to Amsterdam was a long one. We flew almost 6 hours and changed many time zones. I honestly could not tell you what day or time it is other than my computer picking the time for me and the alarm clock next to my bed is telling me the hour. My layover in Amsterdam was perfect. We had about two hours to kill, which gave us two hours to stand and walk around. When I was landing into Holland. I found myself praying for that country. From the sky it looked richly green, and quaint. But my spirit sank while I prayed for Holland. I got a great sense of depression and I heard the Holy Spirit tell me that there are a lot of suicides in Holland. Some of it’s talked about and some of its kept under wraps. And immediately I began to pray more and grieve some. Then the Holy Spirit told me that the mothers are so lonely for their children. There is a huge lack of connection and the children have been lost to the cites and the way of family life. And that the mothers grieve in prayer for them. The family unit isn’t the same as it once was. I’m not sure why I picked that up. The evidence of my surroundings would have proven otherwise until I noticed the countenance of the people working at the airport. There was a certain void and fear to laugh. And I thought wow; I bet that they do miss their family too. I bet they wish that economy/jobs had a different way of providing for them, so that they could still be with their families.
Kristen and I both bought a hair brush. We walked into one of the best smelling perfume shops ever. I also bought some face wash because my face wash cracked open and exploded. Then we walked around some more. There were people from all over the world there. All over the world. English is a common language spoken by everyone, but there were hundreds of others. Kristen and I decided that we both wanted to have a good cup of coffee and just sit down for a bit in a non moving place. So we went upstairs to a café that overlooked the people in the gates souvenir shopping. We had a great time talking about Europe and the men we have dated. Some great stories to talk about. We were also trying to figure out where everyone was from by the color of their passports. The Canadians have a black green one. The Dutch I think have a bright lipstick red one. We think the Germans are a deep red wine color. And we saw hunter green and root beer brown ones too. Not sure what those ones were.
Then we soon boarded our plan to Nairobi. The time changed advanced one more hour. But the flight was 8 hours long. I sat in economy class in the center spot on the right aisle. There was a huge German family next to me and they all decided to stand and sit around me. I found that sleeping was the best way to relax on this flight. So that’s what I did. I slept.
When we got to the airport, I got so excited, that I was the first to jump out of my seat. Then the flight attendant quickly told me and a few others to sit back down and put my seat belt back on. So that’s what I did. Oppsies. We got off the plane and immediately the smells of Africa came to my nose. The air is sweet in Africa. Rich. It coats my throat every time I inhale. Marvelous. As we went through customs I kept smiling and admiring all the people that are visiting or are a citizen of Kenya. I had a good conversation with the man at the passport desk. He had a great polo type shirt on. And we then walked down the stairs. The revolving conveyer belt started to shoot out our entire luggage. I was the last to find my entire luggage, but I sure enough did. Sure enough. Phew. We walked out of the front gates and Nema was there to pick us up.
Nema. She has the kindest face ever. She greeted me with the traditional hand shake and the other arm holding the elbow. She greeted everyone. And then we quickly assembled like baby ducks to the cars. The sliding doors swung wide open for me as I departed the airport. The fresh air of Nairobi welcomed me. So did all the beams of lights from the different taxis, buses, shuttles, and vans. They shined like the luminaries my mother use to put out on our front porch for Christmas. Nema, has a land rover with the rack above and I almost melted. I got to ride shot gun, which is the driver seat in America. Kenya drives on the left side of the road and the driver sits on the right hand side. It does take some adjusting too, that’s for sure. But I got to sit there and admire all of Africa again.
Nema began to tell me about our agenda for the week. I would mention it here but I will keep it a surprise. One thing I did find out is that we may not be going to Kibera because there are now special permits needed to go there. They said that the people of Kibera are very angry because tons of media and missionaries go in and take their pictures with the promise that we will come back to help, and no one comes back. I asked Nema if this was true. Does no one come back? And she said for the most part it is true. But she will see what she can do and perhaps a smaller group of us can go in, but it’s doubtful. There is also political election season so many areas are in uproars of meetings and parades. Apparently the minister of health was fired today because she is not voting for the current president of Kenya, and he hasn’t left office yet. Honestly it’s in God’s hands, but I would still like to go.
As we concluded that portion of the conversation she turned left and said we are now on the Morongo Road. The ancient road that was built many decades ago to connect part of Africa together. And I sat there and thought to myself. I thought about how many people must have traveled through this section of the world. We passed so many things on this road. I saw tons of mobile phones and glam coca-cola road signs. I saw and passed through tons of random police checks. All young men, with clean hunter green suits. They were green capes and black berets and carry rifles. They look at me straight in the eyes as we drive by. All of them. And they pull over cars that are in front and behind me. I’m not sure why the pull them over, they just do. And I simply look back at these police men. The one thing I noticed is that there eyes are really different. Dark. Not even brown and the white isn’t white, it’s magenta. I see something in their faces. Specifically with the police. In their eyes are 1000 stories of Africa. I can only imagine what they’ve seen and how many survival filters they’ve had to place over their eyes to just live. To just be able to get out of bed in the morning. I prayed for the police force. That the Christian men of Kenya would love and be intentionally missional to one another in that particular career. That there would be opportunity for god’s love to be shown to the police. They need His love.
The other thing I noticed about this famous road is that there weren’t any street stop signs. There wasn’t a pedestrian walk way. And there wasn’t a pedestrian cross walk. And I saw people just run across the road and blindly try to make it to the other side. In the meantime the street cars are trying to avoid hitting them and one another by creatively slamming and slowing down with their breaks. Wild experience. I turned to the left and saw a young family waiting at the center of a street turn waiting for a good time that they may all pass. The father had an infant in his arms. The mother had a new born in hers and there was a little girl wearing a flower printed dress standing between them. Both, the father and mother had each hand on her shoulder reassuring her that they would begin to walk at a safe time.
I am staying at the Methodist guest House. We arrived safely and I have my own room. The accommodations are very nice. We have a great dining hall and we have great water pressure. We have closed/screen windows and several plugs in the room to recharge my gear. Life is good. Africa is good. I am good. I am happy. I am me. All me. Just me. In Him. There is an art gallery in the registration area. The art is made by a local artist and I’m going to try to pick up a print before we leave.
We had dinner tonight at the Guest House. I had thick French fries, potatoes and gravy, carrots, tomatoes, and water. So far so good.
Tomorrow we’re going to church down the way from here. And nema promised to take us to the Masai Market at the yoyo village afterwards. I’m so excited.
So far…that’s my update.
More later.
Nairobi, Kenya
My journey to Amsterdam was a long one. We flew almost 6 hours and changed many time zones. I honestly could not tell you what day or time it is other than my computer picking the time for me and the alarm clock next to my bed is telling me the hour. My layover in Amsterdam was perfect. We had about two hours to kill, which gave us two hours to stand and walk around. When I was landing into Holland. I found myself praying for that country. From the sky it looked richly green, and quaint. But my spirit sank while I prayed for Holland. I got a great sense of depression and I heard the Holy Spirit tell me that there are a lot of suicides in Holland. Some of it’s talked about and some of its kept under wraps. And immediately I began to pray more and grieve some. Then the Holy Spirit told me that the mothers are so lonely for their children. There is a huge lack of connection and the children have been lost to the cites and the way of family life. And that the mothers grieve in prayer for them. The family unit isn’t the same as it once was. I’m not sure why I picked that up. The evidence of my surroundings would have proven otherwise until I noticed the countenance of the people working at the airport. There was a certain void and fear to laugh. And I thought wow; I bet that they do miss their family too. I bet they wish that economy/jobs had a different way of providing for them, so that they could still be with their families.
Kristen and I both bought a hair brush. We walked into one of the best smelling perfume shops ever. I also bought some face wash because my face wash cracked open and exploded. Then we walked around some more. There were people from all over the world there. All over the world. English is a common language spoken by everyone, but there were hundreds of others. Kristen and I decided that we both wanted to have a good cup of coffee and just sit down for a bit in a non moving place. So we went upstairs to a café that overlooked the people in the gates souvenir shopping. We had a great time talking about Europe and the men we have dated. Some great stories to talk about. We were also trying to figure out where everyone was from by the color of their passports. The Canadians have a black green one. The Dutch I think have a bright lipstick red one. We think the Germans are a deep red wine color. And we saw hunter green and root beer brown ones too. Not sure what those ones were.
Then we soon boarded our plan to Nairobi. The time changed advanced one more hour. But the flight was 8 hours long. I sat in economy class in the center spot on the right aisle. There was a huge German family next to me and they all decided to stand and sit around me. I found that sleeping was the best way to relax on this flight. So that’s what I did. I slept.
When we got to the airport, I got so excited, that I was the first to jump out of my seat. Then the flight attendant quickly told me and a few others to sit back down and put my seat belt back on. So that’s what I did. Oppsies. We got off the plane and immediately the smells of Africa came to my nose. The air is sweet in Africa. Rich. It coats my throat every time I inhale. Marvelous. As we went through customs I kept smiling and admiring all the people that are visiting or are a citizen of Kenya. I had a good conversation with the man at the passport desk. He had a great polo type shirt on. And we then walked down the stairs. The revolving conveyer belt started to shoot out our entire luggage. I was the last to find my entire luggage, but I sure enough did. Sure enough. Phew. We walked out of the front gates and Nema was there to pick us up.
Nema. She has the kindest face ever. She greeted me with the traditional hand shake and the other arm holding the elbow. She greeted everyone. And then we quickly assembled like baby ducks to the cars. The sliding doors swung wide open for me as I departed the airport. The fresh air of Nairobi welcomed me. So did all the beams of lights from the different taxis, buses, shuttles, and vans. They shined like the luminaries my mother use to put out on our front porch for Christmas. Nema, has a land rover with the rack above and I almost melted. I got to ride shot gun, which is the driver seat in America. Kenya drives on the left side of the road and the driver sits on the right hand side. It does take some adjusting too, that’s for sure. But I got to sit there and admire all of Africa again.
Nema began to tell me about our agenda for the week. I would mention it here but I will keep it a surprise. One thing I did find out is that we may not be going to Kibera because there are now special permits needed to go there. They said that the people of Kibera are very angry because tons of media and missionaries go in and take their pictures with the promise that we will come back to help, and no one comes back. I asked Nema if this was true. Does no one come back? And she said for the most part it is true. But she will see what she can do and perhaps a smaller group of us can go in, but it’s doubtful. There is also political election season so many areas are in uproars of meetings and parades. Apparently the minister of health was fired today because she is not voting for the current president of Kenya, and he hasn’t left office yet. Honestly it’s in God’s hands, but I would still like to go.
As we concluded that portion of the conversation she turned left and said we are now on the Morongo Road. The ancient road that was built many decades ago to connect part of Africa together. And I sat there and thought to myself. I thought about how many people must have traveled through this section of the world. We passed so many things on this road. I saw tons of mobile phones and glam coca-cola road signs. I saw and passed through tons of random police checks. All young men, with clean hunter green suits. They were green capes and black berets and carry rifles. They look at me straight in the eyes as we drive by. All of them. And they pull over cars that are in front and behind me. I’m not sure why the pull them over, they just do. And I simply look back at these police men. The one thing I noticed is that there eyes are really different. Dark. Not even brown and the white isn’t white, it’s magenta. I see something in their faces. Specifically with the police. In their eyes are 1000 stories of Africa. I can only imagine what they’ve seen and how many survival filters they’ve had to place over their eyes to just live. To just be able to get out of bed in the morning. I prayed for the police force. That the Christian men of Kenya would love and be intentionally missional to one another in that particular career. That there would be opportunity for god’s love to be shown to the police. They need His love.
The other thing I noticed about this famous road is that there weren’t any street stop signs. There wasn’t a pedestrian walk way. And there wasn’t a pedestrian cross walk. And I saw people just run across the road and blindly try to make it to the other side. In the meantime the street cars are trying to avoid hitting them and one another by creatively slamming and slowing down with their breaks. Wild experience. I turned to the left and saw a young family waiting at the center of a street turn waiting for a good time that they may all pass. The father had an infant in his arms. The mother had a new born in hers and there was a little girl wearing a flower printed dress standing between them. Both, the father and mother had each hand on her shoulder reassuring her that they would begin to walk at a safe time.
I am staying at the Methodist guest House. We arrived safely and I have my own room. The accommodations are very nice. We have a great dining hall and we have great water pressure. We have closed/screen windows and several plugs in the room to recharge my gear. Life is good. Africa is good. I am good. I am happy. I am me. All me. Just me. In Him. There is an art gallery in the registration area. The art is made by a local artist and I’m going to try to pick up a print before we leave.
We had dinner tonight at the Guest House. I had thick French fries, potatoes and gravy, carrots, tomatoes, and water. So far so good.
Tomorrow we’re going to church down the way from here. And nema promised to take us to the Masai Market at the yoyo village afterwards. I’m so excited.
So far…that’s my update.
More later.
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