Going to the Chapel

Day 7 –

This was the day we got to experience our first church service in Kenya. We had gotten into the country exactly a week before so this was another of our “firsts”. Our whole team was split into smaller groups (to not overwhelm the church) and sent to different churches around Ngong so we could walk. I was in a group with Japheth and we headed to a church that about a quarter of a mile outside of town. We walked in when the first service (that was in English) ended and were escorted to our seats by an excited usher. Again, we were welcomed wholeheartedly and treated special. The next service started which was going to be in Swahili but I was surprised to see that they had brought up a translator especially for us. Wow. They cared enough for our physical needs but also for our spiritual needs as well. How can you not feel special in that situation?
     The choir got up and led the congregation in worship (mostly call & response format). They had an electric keyboard turned up pretty loudly and a very good drummer pounding out exciting rhythms. Then a group of kids got up to sing a song together which warmed my heart; they kept changing keys and the piano player had to keep adjusting the key to match. Japheth leaned over and pointed that out to me and we giggled as the children went back to their seats. The pastor got up and started his sermon. I was struggling to keep my eyes open as were my other teammates and some were actually asleep. Apparently, jetlag was still upon us. Japheth, with a grin, nudged me and told me that I should wake them up or the ushers would; it was disrespectful to fall asleep during church. Some things do cross cultures. My Kenyan friend also told me that one of the ushers jobs was to make sure people stayed awake during the service, “That’s so funny”, he voiced. I laughed as I poked those who were not aware. The service ended with prayer and the hymn “Tis so Sweet to Trust in Jesus” in Kiswahili. I noticed that many churches would start prayer with a worship song and then everyone prays out loud until the leader ends it with a loud voice in closing. It was a surprising way of congregational prayer, but I instantly appreciated how I was able to hear the raised voices to our God and participate in it myself. Powerful, I tell you.
     After the service, we introduced ourselves to the congregation. Introductions and greeting are very important in Kenyan culture because of their emphasis on relationships. Here was my greeting every time I was asked to give one:

Bwana Asifiwe!/Praise the Lord! (sometimes twice)
Jina languni, Missy/My name is Missy
(insert where I am from)
Nakupenda Yesu/ I love Jesus.

     Then we were whisked away to the Bishop’s office for chai and mandazi (delicious pastry), greeting people as we went. We visited a while and had some good conversation – meaning, Japheth talked mostly and periodically told one of us to say something. We were still a little cautious so that we wouldn’t offend anyone. I was very impressed with the Bishop and church in general – it reminded me of my church back home; small and strives to live only for God. It was a new concept to my mind that people half way around the world who live in a completely different culture love the same God I do. I was in awe. Really. What an awesome revelation! Before we walked back, we visited a teen Sunday school room to greet them and encourage them. They all giggled as we spoke, but listened intently.
     We walked back to the Senta, ate lunch, and shared what our group experienced at church with the rest. The rest of the day was spent listening to Nams talk about cultural sensitivity with us so we would go into our assignments with some background. The last thing he told us: offend as many Kenyans as you can, say you are sorry, and learn from it. Of course he was not completely serious, but the idea was that we shouldn’t be so afraid to offend that we wouldn’t experience culture or gain deep relationships. Later, I fully understood what he meant.
     My mind was racing with questions and uncertainty. Trusting God was a feat for me, but with loving friends around me, I was learning to give it all away. My heart was captured by Kenya already – I hadn’t gotten homesick yet but I was ready for it once the time came. Good friends from school that had been on the same trip in the past had made me a redlining bag. Redlining was a key term that meant closing yourself up to the culture, to learning, to making relationships, and being homesick/depressed wanting to get out. I was so curious to know the contents (it was given to me in May) because I was told it would help me with redlining. We would see!
That next day we were to find out our assignments and partners. I was very ready for my curiosity to be fed.

To Be Still for a Moment

Day 6 – 

    This was a really relaxing day. We talked about the Kenyan accent and how to adopt that so when/if we gave sermons during our assignment, people could understand us. Brian had us practice our accents while reading Psalm 23 in small groups. My teammate, Nathan, got it down immediately and used it many times throughout the trip. The rest of us? We sounded like little British children or better yet, college students who were really bad at accents and imitations.
Kenya was once a British colony, so we also had to be aware of the difference in vocabulary.

The words I got mixed up frequently:

American:                             Kenyan:                                                                                     
Pants = jeans                        Pants = underwear
Smart = intelligent               Smart = dressed well/handsome

Humorous, I know.
     The rest of the day, we rested. A lot of people did laundry, and I went to town with three other girls and Japheth to use the cyber café. As we were walking, a bus drove up and stopped to talk to Japheth in Swahili. Then the bus driver looked at me, asked me my name, and asked me where I was from. Later, Japheth told us what the bus driver said, “Young man, you have four girls; give me one!” It was hilarious and also not so flattering. That wasn’t the first time Japheth was put in that position, either; I was glad he was with us to mediate situations like that.
     I was able to get some more quiet time that day equal with sufficient fellowship time. Assignments were to be announced in a couple of days – I was still nervous and excited at the same time. The unknown can drive one crazy. However, everyone on the team had an "affirmation card" to be signed with their name on it that would hold our words of affirmation to them. Let me tell you; with 45 cards to sign we were all busy enough to keep sane. It was difficult to know what words of encouragement to write because I felt that I didn’t know most of my teammates well enough. That would come in time.
Even with a relaxing day, I was ready for bed when the time came.

A Bittersweet Surprise

Day 5 (part 2) - 

    The most exciting portion of our day was spent at a campus of the University of Nairobi where we met students who were a part of the Christian Union there. Our fearless leaders, Brian and Debbie, were stuck in traffic trying to get back to the Senta after running some errands, so they did not come with us to the university. Nams was left in charge of our big group as we rode the buses for the normal hour into the city. We were warmly welcomed, when we arrived, by the students. They each took a group of us to build relationships and be shown around the campus; or so we were told. I hope most of you reading this can understand God’s sense of humor; He is more likely to surprise us with uncomfortable situations when we are so certain it will go a specific way. It definitely reminds me that He has the control. My teammate, Randi and I, ended up in a group with both a girl named Miriam and a FOCUS staff member, Paula.
    We followed them asking them questions as they asked us questions – it was great getting to know them! They took us into a dorm building and started knocking on student’s doors to invite them to the CU meeting. I don’t know what Randi was thinking, but I knew we weren’t there just to get to know each other, and it reminded me of the time I went door-to-door in the dorms on my campus last year…. “Uh oh! I think I know what is coming and I feel unprepared!” Panic rose within me even if my outside was calm. We entered the room of a girl with our guides and Miriam talked with her a little in Swahili. She then asked Randi and me to say something to this girl and we looked at each other. Brian once told us that because we were foreigners we never know what we would be asked to do on the spot. We introduced ourselves somewhat awkwardly and I felt frozen, unsure of what else to say. I think I ended up encouraging this girl to seek Christ, but it was a feeble attempt and it is still a blur. Miriam chimed in with a great explanation of the Gospel for this girl who was hesitant to accept the truth that was spoken to her (she didn’t want to devote her life to Christ just then). Randi and I listened and prayed for this girl before moving on to other dorms.
    Looking back, that was a situation where I fell short. Instead of seeking God’s voice in my panic, I let it take over and searched for my own strength to conjure up something to share. I failed. After that first room, there was an unspoken agreement between us two introverts; Randi would pray and I would share Jesus and then we switched roles when we entered a new dorm. Our next attempts went much better, and we even connected a little with some of the students as well as with Miriam and Paula.
     Being white was powerful because we were listened to; we sent a message as soon as people knew we were missionaries. The message: God must be something special if white people would travel all that way to share Him – and it was the same message they had heard from fellow Kenyans. Our skin color spoke volumes. Being white was not always an advantage, however, but I will explain that in later posts. I was also completely inspired by Miriam and her boldness. Actually, every Kenyan I had met up to this point impressed me with their faith. They live and breathe Christ and have a heart to declare His name in everything they do. Wow. I can’t say that for myself on a good day. That experience was bittersweet because I realized how much I rely on myself, but it was also so sweet to realize that same thing, period. Then, it was so fulfilling to see some of the people we talked to show up to the CU meeting they were invited to. I originally thought that Brian knew we would be put on the spot like that, but apparently he had no idea – I believe him, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was true.
     The whole team and all of our new friends met in the dining hall for dinner where we had a nice time being together. I was convicted…. I should be excited and ready to share my faith with others and allow God to work through me. Instead, I looked to myself when I panicked and not to Him for strength and direction. Dinner was over and we walked to the meeting place of the Christian Union we were to attend. There was a long line of students at the front singing praises and musicians (especially the electric keyboard played on “loud”) playing with a purpose off to the side. I recognized some songs, and picked up the others very quickly (due to repetitiveness…which will be mentioned later).  As for the rest of the room, it was packed. Many gathered to see the wazungu and to see why we invited them to the meeting if they were not in the fellowship already. I spied a girl we had visited in the dorm, Lillian, and sat next to her. The general excitement of our presence made me feel so unworthy of their extensive hospitality. I felt so inadequate.
     Once we sat and enjoyed some worship, a group of students began some skits themed on final exams because it was the end of their quarter/term. We couldn’t understand what they were saying, but body language sometimes speaks louder than words – the skits were funny and relative to what I go through during finals week. It made me smile.  My whole team then got up and presented the group with a song, “As I Went Down to the River to Pray” – an African-American spiritual featured in the movie “O Brother Where Art Thou?” With a team of 45 westerners, I remember thinking that our audience didn’t understand what we sang because of our accents. Oh well. It was fun nonetheless.
My teammates from Bozeman, Montana did a skit as well set to the song, “Everything” by Lifehouse. It shows the journey of a girl in life…choosing other things above God and His undying love and pursuing other things that attempted to fill her heart. It was all mimed to a known song so we didn’t have to worry about the slight language barrier. Body language and music – almost always universal. The reaction of the audience was different than what we expected (they laughed at parts), but the message got through. It is really difficult to understand the way others from a different culture think because we grew up a certain way. It is so good to try and understand, though. It changes your whole perspective on others and God gives you a heart for others in a way you didn’t think possible.
     We found our way back to our seats in the crowded room, and the speaker was introduced. His sermon through me for a loop – the sermon style is very circular in structure and I was confused most of the time, but it was good to hear and I connected with some of his points. We took chai with everyone (they had buckets of it to accommodate the number of people in the room), and had fellowship time until it was time to drag our exhausted bodies back to the Senta. It was difficult for me to initiate conversation at first…there was so many of them! But I learned quickly to start with one person and go from there.
Little by little.

“Everything” by Lifehouse:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lSwCOs-uXzU

The End of the "Honeymoon"

Day 5 (part 1) - 

“My heart feels a little hard today, though, I love being here. I really want to know what God wants me to get out of this trip. I’ve been telling myself over and over that if I am here, God wanted me to be here for a reason. Lord, why? What do you want me to figure out?”

    By the 5^th day in Ngong/Nairobi, I was beginning to break out of my “shy, quiet” shell and getting to know the personalities that surrounded me. I began to realize how blessed I was to have a diverse team full of Americans and Kenyans that were united in one cause: to further proclaim Jesus’ name. Sure, we had our goofy, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea” moments but everyone was serious about their relationship with Christ. Bwana asifiwe!
     The reality that the end of the “honeymoon” period in our trip was upon us and becoming more apparent as the final days of orientation were approaching. [Honeymoon = the first week in the new culture where you are a bit sheltered, having others from the home culture around you.] The past week, when we were not in the slums or Nairobi, we were sitting in chairs listening to Brian (and others) talk about culture, missions, and various other topics we needed to have hold of before we were challenged on our own during our assignments. Due to jet-lag, we would be easily lulled to sleep by the sound of the speaker’s voice and Brian would make us get out of our chairs and sing songs to arouse us. Sometimes they were funny; others were…just ridiculously great. You can ask me more about that later. My brain felt stuffed and I needed time to think and pray through the questions that I was beginning to ask; “I love it here, I know God wants me here, so why am I here according to my Lord?” I was getting impatient.
     After morning chai I did laundry by hand, Kenyan style. This wasn’t the first time I had done laundry by hand in my life, but this was a lot harder than I anticipated. I used detergent (good old Omo) and scrubbed away at my weeks’ worth of clothing until it was ready to hang on the line. Good thing I finished that day because it rained the day after. We had more free time on the “clock”, so I was able to grab my journal, guitar and music and sit outside by the volleyball court at the Senta. Overloaded and a bit confused, I poured out my heart through worship and writing – it is amazing how time alone to sing and pray nurtures my soul. There is something special when I am playing my guitar and singing out to my God; I can’t fully express what I feel when I am dwelling in those moments (especially with the sound of Kenya in my ears). Yes, I love being around people but I need my time alone. Clear headed and warm hearted, I was ready for the rest of the day. 
     We were able to have two men come and give us pointers/practice on speaking Kiswahili. Kenya’s official languages are Swahili and English, so the language barrier wasn’t as thick as it would be in other areas of the world for our group of Americans. Yet, for our benefit and to show respect to the culture we were highly encouraged to learn Swahili. My heart was always, slowly being captured by this new culture I was integrating into it and hearing Swahili gave it another push.

     There are 42 tribes in Kenya each with a language; so many Kenyans know English, Swahili, and their mother tongue. Cool, right?! Our 4 Kenyan teammates each had their own tribe – Kikuyu, Luhya, Kamba, and Kisii. Anyway, during our lesson on Kiswahili, I was glad to discover that it is simpler than English, Spanish, and French (2 of those three I attempted, failed and gave up on). There are no feminine/masculine words, all of the letters have one sound, and each letter is pronounced in a word. “Hallelujah!” said my brain. I was still a little slow at translating phrases at the end of our instruction, but not as slow as I would have been if the grammar structure was more complex. Of course what is actually spoken isn’t pure Swahili – it is English, Swahili, and slang mixed (called shang) – so really, the best way to learn the language is to be around it all the time. This probably doesn’t come as a surprise to most of you.

    The most exciting portion of our day was spent at a campus of the University of Nairobi where we met students who were a part of the Christian Union there....

I’ll stop here for now. See Day 5, part 2.