Month: June 2012

Our Day, as of 1:35 PM

valuesdr

I usually get up early for my morning Quiet Time (the baby normally helps with that) but today it was, quite unusually, raining a bit in the early hours and I wanted to stay in bed. I got up at 6:10 when the baby cried, which is when all the bigger kids also started rolling out of bed. I fed the baby and handed him over to Deborah, who was the first girl up with hair brushed and ready to go for the day. She entertained Enoch in the living room while I got dressed.

I sent Isaiah next door to collect our two liters of milk and began setting the table for breakfast (cups for tea, a peanut butter coffee cake made the night before, and some bananas). Pastor David arrived from Nairobi at about 6:40 AM, having taken Easy Coach through the night. (He’s joining Marc and Tonny on a training mission…somewhere…for the next few days. Tonny had stayed overnight and surprisingly, even with all our noise, wasn’t up yet.) By now all the children were up and gathered in the living room, either having Bible time or chatting with their Dad and Pastor David. Thankfully Enoch, who had started the day rather cranky, was now pleasantly entertained by Pastor David’s charming smile and soothing manner.

By 7:10 Isaiah arrived with milk, which I boiled in preparation for making tea. Tonny finally got up and everyone washed their hands while I finished getting breakfast on the table. I emptied out the pan of coffee cake and everyone probably would have had more if there had been any. Afterwards, Marc left on his motorbike with our 11 year-old to pick up the battery he had left at the charging station over night. Isaiah chatted with the guys outside while Hannah cleared the table, Rebekah started dishes, and Deborah began the task of washing clothes. Our neighbor, Jane, had arrived to complete the task of transplanting some onions in our garden, which she had voluntarily begun the previous afternoon. Micah (4) and Jubilee (3) went out to “help.” I sat at the table and checked my email and Facebook while feeding Enoch. Then I sat on the couch (still with Enoch) and turned on the Kindle for some Bible reading (Psalm 31).

I swept out the kitchen, especially all the mud that had accumulated by the back door with just a few early morning trips to the out house. Tonny interrupted my task to ask if I could help him prepare a bath. I put on a big pot of water to boil, had Deborah take a break from laundry so I could borrow one of the big wash basins, and gathered all the supplies Tonny would need in the bathroom. Meanwhile, Baby Enoch entertained himself by playing with the piles of dirt that Hannah was sweeping from under the table. When moved, he would find his Dad’s Bible on the coffee table. When moved again, he meandered into the kitchen and discovered the electrical wires left disconnected when we had removed the battery the previous day. Then back again into the sitting room to find more trouble…

After setting Tonny up to bathe, I got the bin of clean laundry that had been taken in the previous afternoon but not yet put away, and I sorted it into piles. By now Hannah (after a few gentle reminders to stay focused on her work) had finished cleaning up from breakfast and I asked her to put away the folded and sorted clothes. Isaiah, temporarily distracted by a low-flying agricultural plane, was now reigned in to empty the indoor “pee bucket” that we keep in one of the stalls of our bathroom. (Now that the mosquitoes are out when the sun goes down, we use the emergency bucket as needed!) I also instructed him to roll up and shake out the throw rug in the sitting room and prepare for floor washing (which involves putting coffee and end tables up onto the couch and moving the toy box, shoe bin, and carpet out onto the veranda, then doing a thorough sweep of the concrete floor.) By now Jonah and Marc had returned, so I sent Jonah out to burn the garbage.

Marc, Pastor David, and Tonny left at about 9:00. Not much later, Jane came in from the garden and asked if I needed eggs. She scored really big last week in finding a place where we can get eggs in quantity–we got FIVE DOZEN and wasted little time in consuming them. We’re down to eating meat about once every 2-3 weeks, so eggs are a preferred source of protein. We normally can only get 3-4 eggs every few days, though. Anyway, I was happy to give her some money for another  four dozen, and the two older girls begged to go with her, so I agreed. First I had to scrounge a 5-gallon bucket from the veranda and clean it out for egg transport.

Meanwhile, Micah and Jubilee had begun playing but their diversion was neither messy nor loud, so I let them continue. Isaiah had finished clearing out the sitting room, so I put him on the mission of entertaining Enoch while I prepared to wash the floor (a task I had intended for Rebekah, who was now gone. But both girls had at least gotten through the laundry and dishes!) I set Jonah to cleaning his room and Hannah to washing about four pairs of very dirty flip-flops (necessary for using the outhouse, but not so nice to use when they leave your feet muddy.)

With everyone occupied, I was able to wash the sitting room floor and decided to do the bathroom and hallway as well. I started cleaning carrots, tomatoes, and peppers in preparation for supper, which will be vegetables and ugali. Realizing that lunch time was rapidly approaching, I put Jonah on prep duty, skinning unripe “cooking bananas,” which would be mashed and added to  rice for our meal. I asked Hannah if she could pick skuma (collards) to add to my veges for dinner. I confirmed that she knew how to do it, recalling that she had done so before with her sisters. Meanwhile, Jane arrived with the big girls and the eggs. Rebekah said that Auntie Jane’s “not too far” walk turned to to be pretty far, indeed, but…she wasn’t really tired. In a moment of distraction, Micah asked if he could go help Hannah cut skuma, and I agreed. Jane bounced Enoch and Jubilee in her lap while I put the eggs away, freeing Isaiah up to look for a recipe online, at my request. Today is one of our two weekly dessert nights, and I was unusually enticed by a recipe for Kentucky Butter Cake that I had seen on Facebook earlier.

Jane said her goodbyes and I began cleaning the skuma that Hannah and Micah had now brought in. I asked Rebekah to set the table, gave Isaiah permission to do some work on the computer in Excel, and gave Jonah direction on completing lunch preparation. Deborah entertained Enoch, who was now apparently complaining about Jane’s abrupt departure. A few minutes later, Jane returned, and in broken English explained that evidently Micah had gotten a little over-zealous in his skuma-cutting and  stripped about a dozen plants of all their leaves. I thanked her for the information and went inside, rather ungraciously reminding Hannah of her responsibility to supervise and direct her little brother, and Micah to slow down and (for the thousandth time?) please wait for directions instead of just jumping in to do the work!

I finished cleaning the skuma and then collected Micah and Hannah for hugs and kisses and an apology (will I ever learn?). Then, finally, we were ready for lunch–a rather late 1:20. And I sat down to blog, wondering if anyone would be interested in the minutiae of our day and realizing that schooling hadn’t been a thought in anyone’s mind…but, praise God, we’ve almost finished our 180 days anyway…

“To Me, it is a Miracle to Make Popcorn”

valuesdr

One of the goals of Kingdom Driven Ministries Kenya (KDMK) is to provide education, training, and business counseling so that Kingdom Christians can provide for themselves, for their families, and for other believers. We want to equip people to be as self-sustaining as possible so that they can participate in Kingdom expansion without relying on outside (i.e., Western) financial assistance and without personal economic hardship.

One of Marc’s disciples here who is really catching the vision is Silas. Talk about multiple streams of income and a great work ethic–this guy has a hotel (in America we would call it a restaurant, and it also has a storefront shop), a nursery school with 15 students enrolled, and a shamba (farm) where he is planting annual crops and a forest for timber. He routinely takes half or full days off of work to meet with his own group of four disciples and to evangelize in the community (usually using the Two Kingdoms tract).

We regularly patronize Silas’s shop for items like sugar, flour, baking powder, laundry soap, beef cubes, and eggs. It’s the boys who go down to pick up the things I need around the house, and Silas has taken them under his proverbial wing. When he’s making mandazi at breakfast time, Isaiah helps. Just this week Jonah took his turn and did a commendable job, by Silas’s standards. Isaiah has helped Silas with planting at his shamba and even gone out with him for a discipleship meeting in the community. Silas is a regular at our home and we’ve really come to respect his hard work, his personal integrity,  and his desire to spread the Gospel of the Kingdom.

Although one of the roles of KDMK is to provide microloans for small businesses, when Silas recently talked to Marc about a loan for $250 to get bulk quantities of maize and bean seeds for his shop (they are staples here), KDMK didn’t have the funds available. Isaiah and Jonah asked if they could personally give Silas the money. They really want to see his business succeed so that he can support his wife and child and continue to do the work of the Kingdom without hindrance. This was agreed upon by all, and on Monday of this week the money changed hands. Almost immediately, Silas purchased two very large bags of maize and some beans. He also added some other miscellaneous stock to his store.

Silas’s inventory has slowly expanded over the four months that we’ve been here and one of the items he’s added recently is popcorn. He’s bought small bags ready-popped from a market several kilometers away. He’s re-sold them in his shop and probably only profited about one shilling per bag (that’s about a penny, folks–but remember, the typical African might only make $1-$3 per day!). When Silas was here on Sunday for our home fellowship, I served popcorn…and on Monday morning when he and the boys were finalizing the microloan, Silas was anxious to ask Isaiah whether I had bought the popcorn or made it myself. Hearing that I made it, he asked if the boys could show him how to do it. Of course!

So after some shopping at the market, where one order of business was for Isaiah to show Silas where to buy the popcorn–and to purchase a bag, of course–the boys holed up for the afternoon at Silas’s shop, perfecting popcorn-popping without the luxury of a covered pot. (What they ended up doing was inverting one cooking pot over another, which was a bit awkward but worked out fine.) Silas popped corn and filled and sealed small bags to sell for five shillings each. Isaiah was surprised to learn that while popcorn is very popular here, apparently very few people actually know how to make it. Crazy, isn’t it? After filling bags of fresh popcorn and doing the math with Isaiah to estimate his profit, he was ecstatic to discover that he could make 80 shillings (about $1) on a single bag of popcorn kernels! His reaction? “To me, it is a miracle to make popcorn!”

So the boys aren’t “officially” on the KDMK team, but they’re certainly on the mission…even when it (surprisingly) involves making popcorn.

Measuring Myself

valuesdr

 

 “For we dare not make ourselves of the number, or compare ourselves with some that commend themselves: but they measuring themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not wise.” (1 Corinthians 10:12)

It wasn’t too long ago that I shared about my sense of inadequacy as compared to my African counterparts. So it was nice to be walking and chatting with two women the other day, comparing our native countries, and have one of them say,

“So in America you use some machines for farming. Some have said to me that they do not see you out working the shamba (farm), but it is because you need to practice with the jembe (hoe). Anyway, I tell them that I see you being very busy, doing your own wash and schooling all your children. You are not like many American women here.”

I was tempted to pat myself on the back–and actually, I suppose I did. It’s true–many mzungus here live in gated communities in houses with lots of amenities–even running water and flushing toilets! These things we are happy to do without. Likewise, for many mzungus the cost of a day laborer to wash, cook, clean, and go to market is so cheap (about $1 per day)  that, why wouldn’t you hire help? And certainly it is a blessing to the woman who now can put food on her family’s table. But for the  moment, I indulged in comparing myself to “other mzungus” and it was nice to feel like I was actually adapting well to a much different style of life and standard of living.

As well, I could easily compare myself to myself. I also recently blogged about how much busier I am here than in Amercia. In that regard, as well as others (such as being content with less and engaging more in the work of the ministry), I compare very well to “myself” of, say, just six months ago. So all the way around, I suppose I have a lot to feel good (self-righteous?) about.

But it didn’t take me long at all to remind myself that neither my “old self” nor others are my true standard of measure. The example of Christ is,  and His teachings are. And didn’t He say,

…”you are to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”
(Matthew 5:48)

Yes, we are works in progress. Yes, we need (and receive) much grace. But let us not forget that the purpose of God’s grace is to help us grow in holiness (see Titus 2:11-13). When we compare ourselves with others or even with our own selves, it is easy to make something of our spiritual progress. But if our standard is Christ, of course we fall woefully short. I don’t know about you, but my response to that feeling of inadequacy is to strengthen my resolve to persevere in glorifying my Savior, who is more than worthy of my best effort.

How do you Like Being in Charge?

valuesdr

Our thirteen year-old son has long been given responsibility beyond his chronological age, because he’s always proved to have the ability to handle it. He’s taken on advanced projects of all sorts, interacted with a variety of people, and successfully navigated his way through potentially challenging situations. His Dad has had never had any doubt about leaving his oldest son “in charge” when he’s gone away for work or on-mission. This week was no exception, except that things were a little more involved this time around.

We were in the middle of trying to salvage a botched bore hole and well-development project. The man we’d hired to take the job was a known drinker but no one who recommended him to us bothered to tell us that part; perhaps they didn’t feel it relevant. After all, he had the knowledge and experience to successfully complete the project. They were apparently unaware that we put integrity first.

The man had quite an interesting personality as well–as best we could describe it, it’s “intense.” He also seemed to prefer talking to working and, being the man in charge of the project (with two others working alongside of him), it seemed as if the other two guys spent a lot more time digging and hauling dirt from the bore hole than he did.

We were also overseeing a repair to our chimney, which resulted from a bad concrete job when it was installed. Unbeknownst to us, the man we hired to do the work was the one who originally messed it up in the first place.

Then there were the cultural differences to navigate: they asked for food at lunch time, even though all of them live within walking distance. Was that normal, or were they just taking advantage of the mzungu? OK, and in America a work day is 8 hours; here it’s apparently 6 or 7 or however long they feel like working. Finally, the matter of paying in advance of the actual labor being completed, because there are doctor/hospital bills to be paid for sick children,…and so on.  And don’t forget, another frustration in all of this is the language barrier–our Swahili is still limited, as is their English, so that’s been an impediment to progress as well. All little matters needing oversight and attention.

Marc had been dealing with all of this, with no small stress, when mid-week came and he had to go off on-mission for training. He made sure our son understood his plan for the well development, told the head worker that, yes, our 13 year-old would be supervising the work, and…off he went.

Our boy spent about two-thirds of yesterday dealing with people conflicts and getting dirty helping with the labor just to keep the guys on-task. We all had lunch at 12:30, and…he tried. As he dealt with distraction after distraction, I heated up his favorite cream of tomato soup about three different times, and he finally got to choke it down at about 2:30 while he was “organizing” to get a load of sand delivered for the chimney repair.

As he sat down to some luke-warm soup, I asked him casually, “How do you like being in charge?” As one who usually likes being the top-dog among his siblings, I was kind of curious how he would respond. He shook his head emphatically and said, “I don’t like it!” He expounded on how much easier it would be if people would just do their jobs and how frustrating it was to work so hard and barely get to eat lunch when everyone else was already done, and…he hadn’t yet had a bit of free time!

I hear ya, son…welcome to adulthood.

 

Expectations

valuesdr

Lately I find that I have been battling against other people’s expectations. Sometimes I remain confident in what I’m doing, and in other moments I wonder if I need to adjust.

There’s the homeschooling expectations, which are residual from being in America. When we began the huge task of packing, housecleaning, and moving to Africa (not to mention the transition of the move itself), we only “officially” took about two weeks off of schooling, but we were pretty hit-or-miss when we did do academics. We consistently did math and language arts daily, but electives were…elective. Even now that we’ve been in Africa for just over three months, we have not done as much as I would normally expect for a day of schooling. It seems our day’s work is such “work” that schooling is secondary. I still consider it a day if we just accomplish language arts and math. I’m feeling slightly guilty about that, but…that’s been life. Frankly, I think moving to Africa, learning about a whole new culture and way of life, geography, language, and so on, is plenty of “social studies” for now.  Music and art have been virtually non-existent, with craft items in short supply (or unavailable) here, all of our books still in transit in a crate, and our Internet a challenge to use even for email, never mind surfing or video-watching (which is how we often integrated the arts into our school day). So, the expectation battles the reality.

Let’s move on to the garden…

We arrived right in time for planting season (which was a consideration in our plan, actually) but we discovered that without many of our American conveniences (such as rototillers, long-handled hoes, and so on) farming is hard work. Not to mention, we had to learn about a whole new way of doing things (what to plant when, what fertilizers to use, and what needs to be started in beds and transplanted). The learning curve is huge and Marc has been so busy and away so much that we’ve out-sourced a lot of the work (i.e., we’ve paid locals to do it). Not what we expected, but that’s been the reality. My challenge has been that here the work of farming is relegated to women–they are out in the fields hoeing, seeding, and weeding IN ADDITION TO doing wash, keeping house, and feeding the family. It’s a lot of work. I feel that many days I barely accomplish the necessities; gardening as well?? Not a chance! (Not to mention that Marc has always been much more gifted in that area anyway–I have a “black thumb.”) So when we’re hiring a local woman to till our garden, which she does in addition to her own and everything else, with her 13-month old daughter playing in the dirt beside her…I feel slightly guilty and inadequate.

And shopping?

That’s something else that a woman here accomplishes with ease, no matter how far the walk to market or how many children she has. Thing is, homeschooling is unheard of here, so a woman has her independence all day while her children are at school, to accomplish whatever needs to be done. And even if the children are at home, there’s not a thought in her mind against leaving them to fend for themselves while she attends to immediate needs like food-fetching. We have no one that we would leave our children with, nor do we necessarily feel comfortable with leaving all eight of them home alone (for various reasons). Not to mention, it would take me some time to feel confident about traveling into town and shopping solo, anyway. For all these reasons, Marc usually picks up a few things when he goes into town for other reasons, or the boys bike to market and get some stuff. Before we felt comfortable allowing the boys to go on their own, we were paying our neighbor, Jane, to do the shopping for us. This is yet another area where I know that the locals have certain expectations about how things are done, and we’re just not the norm. And again, I feel slightly inadequate. Just being real here, folks–sometimes I just feel like a spoiled mzungu.

But what they don’t see is that I am usually up at 3:30 or 4:00 to feed the baby and have my quiet time (which is, quite frankly, the most important item on my “to-do” list). By 6:00 I’m dressed and ready to meet the day, having started the laundry and made sure we have something for breakfast. I get everyone going and we have our family devotions. Then we do our morning jobs (which require a lot of “management” on my part) so I might just be hanging out my wash at 10 AM, while the mamas next door have already put theirs out at 8:00. Makes me look lazy, but I feel anything but. The rest of the day is spent overseeing whatever we do manage to accomplish for schooling, doing the housekeeping (which has developed into an OK routine), visiting with unexpected guests, and working to prepare our daily bread. I don’t know how these African women “do it all,” but they  do!

I’m quite sure all the folks here have certain expectations of how things should be and what we should be doing, and lately I’ve been catching myself frequently wondering how we measure up. Then I have to remind myself that it doesn’t really matter. Other people’s expectations never really matter–only our faithfulness to what God has asked us to do. And on that score, I guess we’re doing just fine. So I’ve gotta keep pressing on, remembering that that is the most important thing.