Jambo from Kenya!
I feel the need to give you a little glimpse into the wonderful world of Kenya, Africa. We have been here for barely a week and a half, and a giant, dopey smile is pasted on my face more often than not. It’s true, I’ve caught the disease. No, not malaria (praise the Lord!)—the Africa joy. This place is so full of joy, and it’s infectious, intoxicating.
The skies are so blue, with the biggest puffy, white clouds. The weather is crisp and cool at night, warm and sunny in the afternoons, like those first glorious days of springtime in Tennessee. It rains maybe once a day, but I welcome the precipitation with open arms. It’s not the hot, stifling rain of Malaysia or the depressing, non-stop rain of Guatemala, but the cool, refreshing kind you’d like run outside and drink in.
We are staying in a house, yes, a real house. Our amazing hosts, Anne and Samuel, are the most kind, generous couple. They tell us they are our parents, and it is their pleasure to have us. Ann generously heats up water for my bucket shower, telling me that it is no bother, it is her pleasure. Samuel drives his car to come pick us up when the night fell too quickly as we walked back from town, he and Anne worried for us as for their own children. They’ve provided beds and mosquito nets (thank goodness!) for all seven of us. Anne and Zipporah, the sweet house girl, prepare the most delicious meals of lentils, beef and vegetable stews, chapatti (like thick, delicious tortillas), rice, egg sandwiches, mango, avocado, and more. We drink African Chai tea every morning and at 4:00 teatime. I try to limit myself to 2 cups max.
I have fallen completely, head over heels in love with Anne and Samuel’s four children, Linus (boy, 12), Delight (boy, 7), Glee and Gracious (3 year old boy and girl twins!). We have made a game out of trying to get Glee and Gracious to remember all seven of our names. Gracious runs up to me, throws her arms around me, and says “My name is ‘Seenee.” (She doesn’t quite understand English possessive pronouns yet). Glee is my little snuggle bunny. He crawls into my lap, hunkers down, and grabs each of my arms to wrap them around himself. He could sit like this for hours. So could I.
My babies: Glee, Delight, & Gracious
We walk down the muddy streets of Nakuru, and children giggle, wave, and run after us shouting, “Mzungu! Mzungu! How are you??” (Mzungu means “white person”). One of our first mornings, we walked into Bliss Ministries, and a tiny little girl, no older than 2 years, followed us and kept repeating “Mun-gu, mun-gu, mun-gu…” over and over. It was the cutest thing I’d ever heard.
I walk into a run-down hospital with open-air rooms, many beds, concrete walls. Lord, please be here. This is not my thing at ALL. Give me the words to say and show me what to do to help these patients. I can’t do this without You. God leads me to Esther. She speaks English. She just had a pancreatic cyst removed. We talk and talk. She tells me about her children and her business selling liquid soap door to door. We talk about the Lord’s faithfulness and the power of prayer. She is a beautiful woman. I pray with her and come away smiling and encouraged.
We walk into a room full of new friends and are immediately bombarded by enthusiastic declarations:
"Hello" "Jambo!”
“Praise the Lord!” “Bwana asifiwe!”
“I am born again!”
“Feel free!”
“You are most welcome!”
“I am bound for Heaven!” (This is my favorite)
“God bless you!” "Mungu akubariki!"
We stand in a tiny room, packed with the most beautiful people, every shade of brown. They have the biggest, whitest, brightest smiles I’ve ever seen. They repeat over and over how we are welcome, God bless us, feel free. As I reach out to shake their hands they excitedly slap their hand into mine, grasp my shoulders and pull me in to a genuine, double-sided hug. I have never felt more truly appreciated.
Many of our new friends are named after people of great faith from the Bible: Samuel, Esther, Ruth, Abraham. More are named after virtues, which I love: Purity, Grace, Immaculate. They speak of how blessed they are that God sent us to them. They realize it is not that we have lots of money or are better in any way, but because the Lord has been so gracious and faithful to bring us all together. It’s so true.
One loud voice emits a beautiful chorus to begin the time of worship. All the other voices in the room join in as two separate and unique drumbeats begin to weave in between the notes. I join in when the words in Swahili are easy and repeat, or if they are in English. “In the house of Lord there is healing today… In the house of the Lord there is dancing today… Hallelujah today, Hallelujah today.” Hands are clapping and waving, feet are jumping, bodies are swaying. Women’s voices cry out, Xena Warrior Princess style, adding to the swell of sound. If I’d been in this room 8 months ago, I’d have been pretty uneasy. Now, I join in, clapping, moving to the beat, dopey smile and all. It’s this joy.
It has infected my blood and invaded my soul.
Already, I am changed.
Because of Africa, I will never be the same.
