Ruminations and visitation

Kenya is a land of contrasts. Shadow and light overlap. Natural beauty and poverty's blight share the same landscape while waves of goodness and caring erode obstacles of corruption and suffering. The west is no different, other than these contrasts are easier hidden in our busy, comfortable lives. Change is occurring, but we have to realize it is not in our province to know time or circumstance. God has a will and it will be done. He gives us the gift of empowerment when we seek His will and not our own.

It is Sunday and unbelievably, three weeks are almost up. Hanna and I have been talking about our experiences here, how to make sense of them; how we may be changed. We wonder in what ways change will be expressed in our lives at home. These thoughts tend to be overwhelming as the answers are complex, and how they play out unknown. I contemplate Psalm 147. Peace that surpasses understanding, knowing God’s thread is woven throughout the fabric of our lives.

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David and Ann, their daughter Terry and the rest of us pile into the minivan for a Sunday drive, Jeff at the wheel. We head west through Kisumu towards Majengo dodging potholes and cows. We climb upwards high above Kisumu, the road narrowing and more hemmed by trees. Finally we turn on a dirt track and park. David’s former primary school teacher and her husband greet us. Her husband is 80 and spry, still raising a garden, chickens and has a gas operated Poshe mill for grinding maize into flour. Earlier, as a young man, he had farmed coffee, working with some of the largest growers in Kenya. Unfortunately, in years past the price of coffee dropped dramatically and much of the plantations were pulled out and replaced with tea. Later when we return we will enjoy sodas, avocado and ground nuts (peanuts) with them, but for now our goal is the equator!

David leads us up the red dirt cart track past the Friends Church where he attended as a boy. Our walk gradually leads up a steeper path and we are joined by some of his acquaintances, one who is a community health worker that had just finished a circumcision clinic for the village. HIV/AIDS prevention is gaining wider acceptance in Kenya and there is an emphasis on circumcising boys, which has been shown to reduce transmission. Because so many births are home deliveries circumcision doesn’t occur after delivery and is delayed until the boys are older, sometimes teens. Youch!! When a village has circumcision clinic compliance is good and few boys hide. Apparently peer pressure to show up, and the promise of partaking in a village feast after the clinic are enough motivation. I asked her about bleeding and infection complications which are not common, and treated with herbal preparations if they occur.

As we climb higher past tethered goats, calves, and small farmsteads with maize and ground nuts the landscape is more rugged. The hills are littered with boulders, some as big as a small house. Tucked between are cultivated fields of maize, bananas, and millet. The sky is blue but hazy and I breathe hard. As we walk the trail levels and is cut into a side hill shaded by eucalyptus trees. To the horizon are more of these hills, farms, boulders, and people working their land. I imagine a movie set design team carefully planning how to build this illusion, but it is no illusion—this is real. What is more amazing than the terrain is how these farmers have blended their homes, farms, and lives to fit the landscape, rather than the opposite. Stunning is a subtle adjective for our surroundings, breathtaking only marginally better.





David with Terry on his shoulder takes us past his old primary school. Again the school is nestled among beautiful trees which he helped plant as seedlings, and huge boulders. Cisterns catch rain water from the roof as there is no running water or electricity. He shows us his class’s industrial arts project from years ago, an outdoor kitchen made from mud bricks they produced and built with. We walk on to his family home, but his father is not there. The walls are thick and roofed with corrugated metal. The garden surrounding the house is slightly terraced and there are many trees for shade which David planted as a boy. Our walk crosses a narrow swale and then goes up, leaving behind the small farms as we pass more and more rocks. A narrow chasm through opposing boulders finally leads us up to the highest point of the hill. We are standing on the equator atop a massive rock promontory with 360 degree views. To the SW lies Uganda, Lake Victoria and Kisumu to the east, and in the foreground all of the farms we had passed by.

Looking east towards Kisumu and Lake Victoria



We all enjoy the view, a water break and pictures before heading down. We stop at David’s namesake’s home. Mr. Isuvi was a laboratory faculty member at the University of Nairobi for many years. Following retirement he returned to his family home where he farms and mentors others in the community. He has a beautiful farmstead and has been working to reclaim some wet land for planting bananas. He is not a young man at 76, but he moves like a cat down the rocky trail, talking about wanting to bring electricity to the community. Selfishly, I ponder what changes would occur. We part company at a fork in the trail and move down to David’s teacher’s home, where after a brief visit we leave for Anne’s mothers for Sunday dinner.

Mssr's. Isuvi



We shared several meals with Kenyans in their homes, but were surprised that often the guests are fed while the host waits; only eating after the guests are done. We were greeted by Mamma Anne and her son, Anne’s younger brother. Anne’s father passed away many years ago and her brother was the elder or Mizei, of the house. He brought a basin for us to wash hands and we all sat family style at two tables passing ugali, chapatti bread, rice and a freshly stewed chicken. Following the meal we washed again and had chai. Anne’s mother gave her a parting gift of a live chicken which found its way beneath one of the seats. We also had a quick stop at David’s sisters to say hello. Shortly after leaving we stopped at another “official” equator monument for pictures. The road on this side of the hill leading to Kisumu was in perfect shape! There is hope!

At Mamma Annes's with Hanna and Terry Isuvi





Meeting in the middle!



August 2

Masai Mara, safari time

Masai Mara grasslands



Part of our Africa experience was visiting the Masai Mara game reserve in southwest Kenya, abutting the Serengeti plains and Tanzanian border. We loaded into a Moto Line minibus early in the morning and drove for around 5 hours. Our trip took us out of the valley up into the green highlands and tea plantations. As we passed south the landscape became arid, with high rolling, dry hills. Tea transitioned to wheat fields and scrub land. As we descended into Narok, which is the leaving point for tours going into the park, we began to see a tall people, draped in red and black tartan like wraps around their shoulders and midsections, carrying long staffs and herding sheep and Brahma cattle. The Masai.

One of 42 tribes in Kenya, the Masai are herders, but not nomadic. They live in stick fenced villages. The huts are made of mud packed onto stick frames that look like flat, brown, bread loaves. Each night they herd their cattle into fenced circular paddocks, again made out of sticks and briar wood to protect them from predators. They are not farmers and depend on their animals for food, including drinking a mixture of milk and cows blood. Unfortunately, from what I could see of their land it was horribly overgrazed and the animals thin from lack of grass compounded by drought.

We met Joshua, our guide for the park at a petrol station in Narock. Hanna, Steve and Sherri Danielson, Brianna, Emma, myself, and Ombedi, who has lived at Nehemiah for ten years, loaded into a pop top minivan for the long drive to camp. Joshua was friendly and knowledgeable, but had a theory about unimproved road driving. The faster you went, the more time and distance you covered airborne, then the smoother the ride. Even after having experienced Kenyan roads and driving I was not prepared for this. Thankfully we arrived at the Ololaimutek entrance and drove up a dry wash to the Kenia Safari camp. We had planned to stay in a tent camp which was full, so instead had adjoining cabins made of cement block, each with 3 beds to a room and a sink and toilet. The camp ran a generator for lights a few hours each night and early morning and had a cook house which served basic, but tasty food. “Hot” showers were available in a block of 3 shower stalls with water heated by a fire under a drum. Unfortunately, if you were in the last shower downstream, all you got was a trickle of cold water, but no complaints. We were “roughing” it.

The evening we arrived we drove into the park for what was to be a 2 hour tour and enjoyed seeing zebra, gazelle, an ostrich and some elephants and cape buffalo along a stream bottom. The park has rules that you don’t leave the vehicle and the vehicle has to stay on rutted tracks or the main road, but not drive on the grass. Joshua at one point pulled off the track a van width and was stopped by a ranger. A long pleading, back and forth argument in Kiswahili and we went on with Joshua telling us he had to pay a fine of $10,000 schillings (130 dollars), or he would be banned from the park for a year. We returned to camp and Joshua went back to the park office to “negotiate”. I’m still not sure the outcome, but he suggested if we paid a bribe of $3,000 schillings the matter would be closed. It was decided that if we paid the fine and got a receipt we would deduct the amount from the safari fee, but he declined. Our friend Ombedi made it clear to Joshua we were “not going to walk in darkness, but in light”. We would help him with a fine, but bribes were not an option.





Morning and the Wildebeest migration is starting. They had come from Tanzania earlier—over a million animals crossing the Serengeti to graze and breed. In August they return, crossing the Mara River. We drive south and west through the park. Gazelle, zebra, antelope in large numbers move across the scrub. Large ostrich run around with featherless legs as if they forgot to put on pants. Elephants seem to float through the grass in small groups, so graceful and fluid, and in no hurry. The land becomes hilly, topped by thickets, and above the short tree tops giraffe in twos and threes browse on thorny brush. Creek bottoms provide cover for roving herds of Cape buffalo which snort and belch as they graze with birds perched on their backs eating ticks. We begin to see more Wildebeest accompanied by small bands of zebra. Climbing out of the bottom land a young male lion is perched on a knoll either resting after a meal, or picking out his next. Oblivious to his audience and totally nonchalant, it is hard to imagine how quickly and powerfully he can move. Close to the Tanzanian border the land becomes flatter, but still rolling. Prairie grasses extend beyond the eye and I can only imagine that this could have been the American west 200 years ago dotted by buffalo. Building herds of Wildebeest move south, grazing as we arrive at the Tanzania-Kenya border. We stop at the Mara River and are escorted upstream by a ranger named Michael to the point where the wildebeest cross. Hippo lie in pools with their noses barely above water and their tails flipping water onto rough, gray backs. Some sunbathe in the sand grouped like a family beach outing, while a 20 foot crocodile is parked on the waters edge. I have seen this place in the Planet Earth documentary. At the peak crossing over 1.5 million animals plunge into the river. Some drown; some are dragged downstream by crocodiles laying in wait. Most make it to return the following year as the cycle continues. The crossing so far has been easier since drought has resulted in low water levels. The drive back to camp is quicker with a stop at Keekorock lodge which has an elevated boardwalk above a hippo pool. You can sit and enjoy your drinks while watching them move at dusk to graze in the grasslands.





Our last day in the park was a sunrise game drive for two hours. We were almost nonchalant watching zebra and buck when we came upon a pride of lions with a fresh killed wildebeest. Though there were a number of vehicles parked nearby, the lions seemed nonplussed. Two cubs were sitting near and would sneak over to feed and then be pushed back. A black backed jackal hung back picking up leftovers as the lions ate, vultures hopped nearby. Finally, two of the lions bit into each of the carcass shoulders and dragged it to the edge of the bush to finish their meal. Joshua told us the females tended to make the kill; the male would eat first and then lie in the bush nearby while the rest of the pride ate. An amazing sight for our last morning.



In true Kenya fashion our hired matato didn’t show on our arrival back at Narock. Ombedi and Joshua pounded the dirt streets trying to figure a way to get us back to Kisumu. Joshua was going on to Nairobi with Sherrie and Steve who were leaving for the states in the morning. It was decided we would also ride to Nairobi where it would be easier to hire a bus for Kisumu. In the end, it was a good diversion since we saw another part of the Rift Valley and the highlands. Nairobi is crowded with vehicles, trucks and people. Not a place I would chose to spend time, however we did see a beautiful suburb when we left Sherrie and Steve at Hampton House, a transient hostel for missionaries entering and leaving Africa. Moto lines provided us a matato and driver for the 6 hour drive back to Nehemiah. We left at five o’clock which meant we were traveling partly at night. Not recommended!! Large trucks constantly coming towards us, always with their bright lights on, no highway markings, bad roads with sometimes 3 foot drop offs at the shoulders. I was quite frightened for the people walking the shoulders. Thankfully we arrived late without incidence and were thankful for this part of our journey to end, and a good nights rest.

July 30th-Aug 1st

School Visits

Chiberer School



Kenyans value education and it is apparent in the number of schools we saw. Primary public education is funded by the government, but additional costs include supplies and uniforms which can be beyond the reach of the Kenyan farmer. Secondary education, or high school, is not government funded. While students may pass their entrance exams to high school, it means nothing without the means to go on.

Schools are both government run and private. Some of the private schools have boarding facilities. The neighboring villages of Miwani, Karunga, Chiberer, and Kano each had a primary school through form 9. The buildings were simple. Long, partitioned mud, or sometimes block buildings. Window openings were shuttered, but when opened, provided soft light. Roofs were rusted, corrugated iron. The classes were open rooms with painted blackboards along one wall and simple, worn benches. If the school had a lunch program, the kitchen was often a mud walled building behind the classrooms where Ugali, rice, or beans were cooked over wood fires. In schools without lunch it was common for kids to be in school from 7:30 to 4:30 each day with only water or Chai (tea) for the day. The mind doesn’t work well when the stomach is empty.

Hanna and I had met Madam Idalia, the baby school (preschool/kindergarten) teacher last week when our team went to visit Karunga village. We had enjoyed reading with the kids and returned with more books to share. Karunga School is about a 2km walk from Nehemiah on the road, joining a dirt path that winds through part of Karunga village. As we walked kids collected around, wanting to hold hands and escort us past woman putting maize out to dry, scrubbing pans with sand and water to clean them, or washing laundry in plastic tubs. The men were absent, most already out hoeing in the cane fields or tending stock and working their own shambas (gardens). As we crossed the field, many of the teachers were sitting under a tree, and Madam Idalia was not present. Unfortunately, not an uncommon practice in Kenyan public education. Teachers may not show, or show up late. Often teaching means putting a lesson on the board and having the students copy it while the teachers take tea and visit outside the classroom. Marit explained that while this is cultural and accepted, one of Nehemiah’s goals has been to partner with village schools in providing materials, books, and in mentoring both students and teachers. The lunch program at Karunga is also supported by Nehemiah.

Meet your sub, Ms. Hanna!



Our role of guest became that of substitute teacher! I lost count but there were at least 35 squirmy kids in a circle on benches. Like kids everywhere some were shy, some were clowns, and some full of mischief. We had a great time doing numbers, shapes, colors, the alphabet, and reading “Clifford, the Big Red Dog” and “Blueberries for Sal.” I’m sure known of them knew a blueberry from a bear. It didn’t matter, fun didn’t get lost in the lack of translation.

At all of the schools we visited, we were welcomed as friends. Nehemiah and those that have served with Nehemiah built those bridges. We saw evidence of the wonderful partnership and relationships in the students, teachers, and headmasters greetings. At Miwani School they were so proud to show us the beautiful murals Anna Schuler had painted from a past visit, and to show how they had stocked their libraries with donated books. Today, however, was special! The girl’s choir from Miwani had been selected to go to Mombasa for a national choir competition and the government was going to provide a bus for transportation, but the school needed to fund the other expenses, and was still short of the full cost. Our team had allocated funds for projects as part of the trip budget and this was a perfect opportunity.

Miwani School



We assembled in Doreen’s (headmaster) office with her assistant Tobias and asked if we could also have the choir director join us. Their excitement on learning we were going to partner with the choir in helping fund the trip was only surpassed when the director had all the students, teachers, and even some parents assemble outside for an impromptu choir performance. Before starting to sing, the director told the choir and assembled teachers and parents, their trip was going to happen. Absolute delight—smiles, hand clapping, jumping, and shouting. The open air concert was wonderful, a blessing to us and a joy to share in their excitement.

Beyond Karunga village, at the base of the escarpment was Chiberer School. If I could pick a place for a hideaway, this might be it. The backdrop of boulders and hillside with the long open valley and cane fields beyond was beautiful. The school is an extended building, divided into classrooms and set in a grassy open field with large shade trees. A breezy, open space where you simply want to sit and enjoy your surroundings.





The day prior, Marit had arranged for donkeys to meet us at the end of the road so we could pack supplies and more books up to the Chiberer library. A schedule in Kenya is not time dependent, but simply when one decides to show up. Since the donkeys didn’t show, we packed feed sacks loaded with books up the trail, two of us each carrying an end, or on our shoulders. The trail was dry, even, and the trip went quickly. We enjoyed a tour of the classrooms and hearing about the headmaster’s wishes for a lunch program and teacher housing. He was excited to show us how they had neatly placed the previously donated books on pallets in their best, secure building. The students assembled outside for photos with the new books, and sent us off with a group thank you and prayer.

July 28th-July29th

Shared work, shared friendships

Within the farm compound, cows are queen (it is a dairy after all!). David Isuvi manages the herd for quality milk production and has worked hard to get the best dairy animals. His choice of genetics both in purchased stock and his use of artificial insemination for breeding, have been very successful. The cows are fed chopped maize and Napier grass twice a day along with hay, molasses and a dairy meal. Milking is in the morning and evening. Some days I would go down to the dairy barn to shovel feed, or its byproduct. Cows can be entertaining, but my favorite time was spent visiting the dairy hands. Rose is a Nandi who sets the standard for dairy fashion. She wears a necklace and a dress every day. Her smile is bigger than Lake Victoria and her laugh could make Mona Lisa giggle. Steven is thin like most Kenyans, but strong and good natured. Both became great friends.

Milking the old school way





The surrounding Miwani valley is chameleon like as it takes on a different character with the changing light. Early morning with the sun rising and a slight breeze, the cane fields running to the escarpment reminds me of Kauai, yet in the evening, under thunderheads and shadows cast over the fields, the surrounding farmsteads have the appearance of hayfields and ranches buttressed against the west slopes of the Madison range in Montana. No matter, it was always changing and always beautiful. This evening was particularly memorable as Hanna and I rode bikes to Miwani village. Returning at dusk, weaving by cattle and goats being herded, we passed others returning home from the fields. Long shadows cast on a broken road touched amber by last sunlight. Simple, and beautiful.











July 27

Settling In

It seems I am no longer part of an Alice in Wonderland story, sliding into a new world of peculiar and exotic experiences; every sensation, taste, and smell on overload. Africa has become home for now, and each day has a rhythm and pace that is becoming familiar. Living in community doesn’t force relationship, but allows it. You experience it from the minute you wake—you cannot escape it; and why should you. You belong.









Conversation permeates almost every encounter. You welcome it like the warm breeze of midday. Passing older women or farmhands on the road or trail, working on a farm project, or sharing a meal; each of these times is fragrant and brings a simple joy. Whether a greeting in passing, (usually accompanied by a wide smile and two handed shake), wishing the boys a good day after morning devotions, or helping Rose and Steven in the dairy. Friendships grow from the rich earth of community, and the truth that all of us are grafted into the same vine. This has been a time to meditate on, and converse with God. Life is not random events without purpose, meant to frustrate or confuse us. In fact life is an opportunity to taste heaven on earth. We can experience life abundantly both in trials and celebration, when we allow God to wrap himself around us. The ebb and flow of each day begins with a cup of chai or coffee, and brief devotions with the boys before school. We gather and give thanks, offering this day to His service; seeking His wisdom, blessing and guidance. 10,000 miles and a continent away—sometimes the greatest lessons are found in unexpected ways.

July 26th