Wednesday, September 26, 2007

50 kms = 75 minutes & 140 kms = insane

So Monday night began the journey; the journey back to Nairobi. I boarded the bust at 8:40 p.m. and at 9:02 p.m., we were off.

I sat next to this sweet girl name Julia. She was doing a bit of work in Kitale but was excited about heading back home to Nairobi. She told me a bit of her story; she was sponsored growing up by a Spanish family; her parents unable to properly care for her. They sponsored her all the way through university and they still maintain a strong connection and friendship, even now that she has graduated and has a job in an optometrist office.

She got polio when she was four and therefore lost the mobility in her right leg however with some metal bars and surgery of sort, she is able to walk on it and move around. We ended up talking for quite awhile and as we went our separate ways, we exchanged phone numbers so the next time she is in Kitale, hopefully we can get together.

At one point during the drive, I remember looking out the window and seeing a sign that said “Nakuru – 50kms”. I was so happy because I really needed to go to the bathroom and the closer to Nakuru we were, the closer to Nairobi we were getting. I used to do a lot of driving between Windsor and Toronto (as my family was in Windsor and I was living in either London or Toronto area). And to me 50 kms should take no more than 35 minutes (less for us lead foot drivers – yes, I am one of them!). But here in Kenya, with the lovely roads, it took just over 75 minutes to get 50 kms. As my friend Kate describes it, the pot holes are big enough to bathe a large family in them. :-)

I arrived in Nairobi at 5:30 in the morning and since nothing was open and I wasn’t meeting Todd until 8:15 am, I had time to kill so I sat in a restaurant by the bus station and people watched (one of my favorite things to do!). In walks in a woman with a young man and she’s holding his hand. They looked alike so I assumed they were related, quickly finding out it was his mother. I then realized that he was mentally challenged. He looked to be in his early 20s and was just a big cute teddy bear. He would shout out “Mommy” when he wanted his mother’s attention. His voice was that of a child’s; a sweet innocent child. It was such a wonderful sound to hear. He was constantly smiling and having fun with his rope that he would twist and unravel, over and over again.

His mother sat beside him, beaming and laughing with him. She displayed such motherly affection and protection of her son. It was such a beautiful thing to see, considering that mentally and physically challenged children in Kenya (and most African countries) are usually seen as a burden and therefore are usually abandon and at some times, even killed by their family members. So to see the opposite in this family was such a blessing.

Then it was time to go and meet Todd. Crossing the roads in Nairobi can be a bit dangerous as it is constantly flooded by cars and millions of people. There are no real street lights so all you can do is cross when there’s a little break and pray the car that’s coming full speed, stops. When I cross the road, I make sure that I cross with a huge crowd of other people crossing and I get in the middle of the crowd. I figure I’m less likely to get hit that way.

I was meeting Todd outside the Hilton hotel and since he was late in arriving, I got to do more people watching. The amount of white people coming in and out of the hotel and going in to or coming out of safari vans was crazy (We, the TI team, prefer the $6 per night motels on the “wrong side” of Moi Avenue and taking $8 bus rides to and from Nairobi. True, crazy missionaries!). There were women coming out of the hotel dressed as if they just stepped out of a Vogue magazine. Or, they looked like the typical white tourist – cameras around their next and full-on safari gear, from the shoes to the safari hat. They definitely stand out. I chuckle to myself when I see these things – I’m way too African now.

I met up with Todd and we headed to where we needed to get to. Who knew that would be a crazy time. But as a HUGE praise shout out to God, all that needed to be done in Nairobi was done. Finished, complete, done!!! I was so happy. It took 3 hours to complete and 5 different counters to go to (because their offices are so disorganized) but all is good now. Thank you Lord!!!

After lunch and getting some things for Todd, we were on the road back to Kitale. We grabbed a shuttle (11 passenger van) and got stuck in the back. We left Nairobi at around 3:30 p.m. The first few hours were fine and even up to the point of reaching Nakuru was fine (minus Todd and I dying of heat because my window was broken and the roads were dusty so no one wanted to roll their windows down so Todd and I (with another Kenyan woman in the back with us) were sweating. After Nakuru, I started to get a really bad headache, a migraine quickly approaching. One, because I only slept one hour on the night bus to Nairobi and two, I didn’t eat enough in the day. And when I get the migraines, I get nauseous. And when I get nauseous, the last thing I want is to be in a vehicle that is swerving back and forth and slamming on the brakes to miss the millions of potholes all over the road and the driver fully knowing that he is going to hit those potholes no matter what he does or where he goes. And it’s now cold outside, no one has their window open and my window is broken. So finally, I ask the guy in front of me to please open up the window, he says, “its cold.” I said, “I’ll throw up if you don’t.” I won; he opened up the window. I’m not the motion sickness type of person at all but mix my migraines up with a rocky road, and I just might blow chunks!

Then the lady next to Todd gets out early so I move over to her window. I opened it up all the way and stuck my head out, breathing in the fresh cold air. Then it started to rain, I didn’t care though, I needed that fresh air and also the open window in case my stomach couldn’t handle it anymore. And then, thankfully, we hit the good road (which means we were closer to Eldoret now, which means we were even closer to home). I was able to fall asleep for about 5 minutes until I lost head control and smashed my head on the window. Yeah, that jolted me awake. So much for sleeping!!!

We got to Eldoret and headed straight for the stage (it’s a parking lot where all the matatus, taxis and small vehicles wait for passengers). We were able to find a small taxi that was heading direct to Kitale, which was great since it was 10:30 at night by this time. As we were sitting in the taxi, I could see a street boy up ahead. I couldn’t see his face, more of his silhouette. All of a sudden his hands went in the air and he came running to the tax, “Mary, Mary!” It was a Kitale street boy, but he was in Eldoret. I asked him what he was doing there and he said that he decided to come and see Eldoret. He told me that he would be back in Kitale the next day.

By 10:50, we were off. And the taxi driver obviously wanted to get home as well. We were doing about 140 kms/hour from Eldoret to Kitale. It was insane; the driver didn’t care about the potholes. In fact, it’s like the faster you go, the more you just…glide over them. Except for the odd “BANG” as you’d hit a really big one (big enough to bathe a large family in) but it didn’t stop the driver. He maintained the speed. What usually takes an hour and ten minutes of travel time, took under 40 minutes (and that’s stopping to let one person off and one person on). We made it to town and grabbed a town taxi home. I was home by 11:35 p.m., exhausted and desperately wanting to go to bed.

The last time I looked at my clock it was 1:00 a.m. and I knew that I was getting up in less than 5 hours to go to Eldoret again for a meeting. Why didn’t I just sleep in Eldoret? I wanted my bed; I needed my bed.

So as I begin to wrap up this adventure for you, I must say: 1) I’m extremely tired and 2) I don’t want to have to go back to Nairobi for a long time. I’m done with the crazy driving for a little while. J

Prayer requests:

1. Daniel is in Nairobi now. Pray for a safe time for him and that he gets all he needs to do, done.

2. Our cool friends Eva Joy and Caleb are coming to live with us for six months. They arrive in Kitale tomorrow. Pray that they feel at home with us and that they accomplish what they need to do.

3. Our fourth intern, Jared (from my church in Canada) is coming to Kenya. He arrives on Saturday morning in Nairobi and he and Daniel are traveling back during the day on Saturday. Pray that he gets what needs to be done this week and that he and Daniel have a safe journey back to Kitale.

4. Kate & Amanda (our interns) are both sick, flu-like stuff. Pray for healing for them.

I think that’s all for now.

Mungu Akubariki.
xoxoxo

Monday, September 24, 2007

Sunday Service

Yesterday’s service was awesome. What was different about it really, I don’t know but it was great.

Amanda, Kate and I danced during worship service. Later we were told that most of the people in the church were swinging their hips; which was awesome.

But the best part of it – hearing the little kids sing, sing at the top of their lungs. For example, some of the songs we sang “Lord, I Lift Your Name on High” and “Heart of Worship” and these kids, ranging from six to ten years old were singing every word with such a passion (and with their little Kenyan accents). It was such a beautiful sound.

I found the American Idol episode on youtube when Josh Groban sang “You Raise Me Up” with the African Children’s Choir (go to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0OOhd6R2EiY) if you want to see it too). It aired a few months back, while I was here in Kenya so I never got to see it but my cousin sent me the link. I finally downloaded it on Saturday to watch it. I sat in my house and cried…ok, sobbed. The beauty of the children and some of them singing with their eyes closed and hearts open. It was just beautiful.

And then yesterday at service, to hear the children, the African children, sing with their hearts to God, was just amazing. Amanda, Kate, Daniel and I all watched them, smiles on our faces as we watched the smiles on their faces while they sang. I hope to someday get it on video so that I can post it for you all to see. It would bring a tear to your eye; a good tear.

In a place, a country, where the children have barely anything, if nothing at all, and the smiles that light up their faces when they sing out to God is just amazing. It is the child-like faith that God calls us to have. It is the pure joy of loving and worshiping God, no matter what life is throwing at us, no matter what the circumstances are. It’s trusting in Him that He will truly provide. And the children have that – they have that faith, that innocence, that joy. If only we could be like them; I know I want to try.

Mungu Akubariki
xoxoxo

Friday, September 21, 2007

Thursday fun with the street kids...

Thursday’s have become one of my favorite days of the week. It’s a day of hugs, laughter and fun with the street kids.

Anne (our social worker), Kate, Amanda, Daniel and I headed to the back of the Nyayo (N-eye-o) house where all the street girls hang out, like we did last week. Along the back corridor, before the opening of the back veranda, there laid a little boy against the wall, sleeping. It was the same little boy that sat on Daniel’s lap the whole time we were there last week.

He’s a beautiful little boy with light brown curly hair. He’s no more than two years old; he has a mother, who is pregnant again and they live on the street.

I walked over to the boy and he was dead asleep. I rubbed his cheek and his hair but he didn’t budge. If it wasn’t for his chest rising as he breathed, I would have thought he was dead. I looked around but his mother was nowhere to be found so I picked him up, while sleeping. He woke up and was a bit shocked at first, especially with three white girls looking down at him. I picked him up and carried him over to the stairs that we sit on that overlooks the trash pile compound. Once the shock wore off, he started to cry. It wasn’t an “I’m scared” cry. It was a deep “I’m hungry” cry. Yes, there is a difference.

I asked him in Swahili where his mother was and he looked over in a direction of a woman sleeping in the fetal position just a few feet away from us, on the cement ground. I asked if that was her and he just looked at me with these sad eyes, huge tears rolling down his face.

Anne called over one of the street sellers who had biscuits for sale so she bought him a package (8 little biscuits in a package). I opened up the package for him and he immediately sat next to me and I handed him one at a time. He ate them so quickly and didn’t mind that I wiped the tears from his tear-stained face.

He had gunk dried and stuck in his curly hair. He wore a little blue jumper outfit that has holes in the crouch and legs; the same outfit as last week. He is completely dirty, probably hasn’t been bathed in weeks. It was sad; he cried out loud for over five minutes and in that whole time, his mother slept. She did not budge an inch as her son sat crying just a few feet from her. I wanted to take him; take him home and bathe him, put full covering clothes on him; make him the biggest plate of food and cover him with love, with hugs, with kisses, with attention. What a beautiful child he is.

A few minutes later, I caught a glimpse of Ellen. She too is a street girl that we met last week. She has a little girl name Brenda. Brenda is not yet a year old. Ellen was sitting down on the dirt ground and leaning up against a tin shelter. She saw us and waved to us and then began to breast-feed Brenda.

And then the saddest thing happened. As she is breast-feeding Brenda, she pulls out a glue bottle and puts it to her face. She is feeding her child and sniffing her glue at the same time. If I had a camera with me at the time, I would have taken a picture as most of us may not be able to fathom a sight like that. It was heart-breaking.

Then from the right of me, I saw a girl running. She was running in our direction, full speed ahead. It was Rose, my sweet Rose from last week. When she reached us, she ran right to me, plopped herself beside me, wrapped her arms around me and put her head on my shoulder. Oh, my sweet Rose! She was surprised that I remembered her name; she looked at me and said, “You remember me?” and I said, “Of course, you’re my sweet Rose.” The biggest smile came upon her face and she stuck to me the whole afternoon.

There’s another street girl, rough on the edges but when you look at her face and in to her eyes, she is just absolutely beautiful. Her name is Elizabeth. And when she saw us, she came over, greeted us and sat with us. I told her today what I thought of her; I told her that she was absolutely beautiful. She blushed and looked away with a small “thank you” escaping her lips.

We piled up all the street kids together and started walking to our weekly feeding program. Here were four white people, holding hands and walking with about 30 street kids, including street moms with their babies down the main roads of Kitale. There were shop owners coming out of their stores to see what was going on. We weren’t four white people annoyed with all these street kids surrounding us; we were four white people who were hugging on the kids as much as they were hugging on us.

On the way to the program, I was talking with some of the kids and they were saying that if Daniel and I built a home for them to live in, they would come and behave themselves. I told them that there were many homes and programs in this area that they could all live in and be a part of, why would Daniel and I be any different then those places. And they said, “Because you and Daniel aren’t selfish. You and Daniel talk to us, play with us and help feed us. You treat us good.”

Yesterday, I had to go to Eldoret for a meeting really early in the morning. I took a boda-boda (bicycle taxi) to town to catch an express taxi to Eldoret. When I got off the boda-boda, there were three street boys that I knew. They immediately called my name and came over to greet me. I gave them all the usual hugs/handshakes; they asked where I was going and I told them. They walked with me over to the express taxi and as I got in to the taxi, I shook their hands one more time and told them that I would see them tomorrow.

The man sitting next to me in the taxi said, “It seems they know you. They were calling you Mary. Is that your name?” I told him that yes it was my name. He asked me why they knew my name and why I would be talking to them. I told him, “They know my name because they are my friends and I am talking to them because they are human beings and deserve to be treated like human beings.” People sitting in front of us, turned and looked at me with a surprise look on their faces. I didn’t care; the man shut up.

And maybe that’s why the street kids like us because we do treat them like human beings. We don’t care if they are dirty and smelly; we still talk with them, hug them, and treat them with respect. We don’t brush them aside and treat them as a nuisance; we love on them.

After the children had been fed at the feeding program at our church, we all hung out together, despite a bit of the sunshine rain that was falling. When the children start to leave the property, we have someone at the gate to search them, to ensure that they aren’t stealing the plates and cups that we use for the feeding program. Well, today, we had an older street boy – his first time there – trying to steal some of the plates so one of the older guys who teaches/translates at the feeding program, confronted the street boy to give back the plates.

It turned in to a huge fight; the street boy trying to punch the teacher/translator. The street boy picked up a big rock and was trying to attack the teacher/translator with it. All of the street kids went running in the direction of the fight and I then saw one of the other older street boys, James, pick up a big rock as well. I turned to Daniel and told him that James had also picked up a rock. Daniel handed me his things and went running in the direction of the fight. James, who had the rock then turned to me with the rock in his hand and I asked him what he was doing with the rock. He said that he had it to protect the teacher, that one of the boys was going after his teacher and he wouldn’t have that.

Then before I know it, the angry stealing street boy starts screaming at my street girl, Elizabeth. Well, Elizabeth, high on glue, hikes up her skirt, puts her fists in the air and starts bantering the angry stealing street boy to fight her. He starts charging at her and I immediately get filled with adrenaline and this protectiveness. I shout, “Don’t you dare lay a hand on her.” as I head in the direction of Elizabeth and this street boy. One of the younger street boys grabs my arm and says, “Don’t go.” Amanda and Kate are behind me saying, “Don’t go, Meredith.” But there was a part of me that knew that if I saw that boy hit Elizabeth, I would have been over the fence in a matter of seconds and put myself between her and him, no questions asked, no hesitation.

Finally things calmed down and we all took that as a cue to 1) have the kids head back to the core town area and 2) us to go home. As we were walking home, we were talking about the fight and about the street kids’ reaction. Daniel said that we have probably come to a point in the relationships with the street kids that if something were to happen, a fight to break out and we were a part of that fight, that we would be protected by the street kids. They would defend us and protect us and after today, seeing how they were with us and with the teacher/translator, I believe they would too. We’ve built that friendship with them over the past six months or so, there is a trust between us and them now. It makes me smile; it makes this motherly affection and protection of them just pores out of me.

I also want to tell you about another street girl that we met today. Her name is Anne. She is about four months pregnant and was completely drunk when we met her; she could barely walk or talk. She prostitutes herself; probably for her drinking habit. We asked her how she would care for her baby and she said that she will just give the baby to her mother. We asked where her mother was and she said that her mother was dead. So she decided that she would give the baby to her step-mother to care for. She said that she likes being pregnant and will probably continue to get pregnant. But she said for us not to worry, she would give each of us (Daniel included) one of her children to raise because she knows that we will take care of them. She was no more than 18 years old; pregnant and completely hammered (drunk).

Our hearts break for these babies; they are the next generation of street children. Their lives, from the moment they are born, will be hell for them. Their mothers are addicted to glue, to alcohol, to prostitution and these children will cry, painful cries because their stomachs ache of hunger and their mothers will not be able to feed them, because their addictions are more important. These children will die at early ages due to malnutrition, malaria, and other diseases. Most of those street babies may not live to see their fifth birthday. These mothers will never visit a doctor during their pregnancy and will just give birth to the children on the streets; literally. Maybe some of them will know a midwife who will deliver the baby; but most of the time, it will be a friend or family member, who doesn’t have the experience of delivering babies, who will be the one to deliver the street girls’ babies.

It’s such a sad thing to see; Ellen breast-feeding her baby while sniffing glue and Anne, four months pregnant and completely drunk. But it’s a common thing here; it’s an every day lifestyle for these girls. I’m sure it’s not a lifestyle that they would have wanted and chosen for themselves in the first place. But to them, there is no hope; this is the way life will be.

I don’t know what I can do for them except to go and see them every week; let them know that we are here. Not to gain fortune from their stories, their pictures, their pain but that we are here for them. We are here to hug them, encourage them and spend time with them. We want them to know that they are human beings with feelings and emotions and dreams…and that we care for them and truly want a friendship with them.

They are the forgotten ones, the rejected ones by the rest of the world but by us, they will never be forgotten or rejected. They are loved; not just by us but by our Lord Jesus Christ. And I just pray that His love can be magnified through us. I just pray that God uses us to reach these kids in a way that we could never imagine or fathom. So that we will all know without a shadow of a doubt, that it was Him who did it all; who conquered it all.

Mungu akubariki (God bless you!)
xoxoxo

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Nairobi Fun..

Nairobi is like Toronto but bigger, much bigger. It has a population of over 4 million people. So for those of you who aren’t used to the big city, it can be a bit intimidating.

Thankfully I lived and worked in Toronto so the big city, thousands of people everywhere, in Nairobi didn’t scare me. And traveling to Nairobi by myself and touring Nairobi by myself didn’t scare me much either. Although in Toronto, there is a comfort in seeing the CN Tower in the skyline. You always know what direction you are going in when you see that tall, skinny tower on the waterfront.

So Sunday night, I boarded the luxurious Easy Coach bus and prepared for my nine hour travel on crappy roads from Kitale to Nairobi. I sat at the front of the bus, beside this very tall and large man. I had the isle seat. I text messaged Daniel saying that I wasn’t going to get much sleep as I know I can’t really sleep sitting up and I for sure couldn’t lean my head against this man’s shoulder. Definitely not!

About 5 hours later and not a wink of sleep, we reach Nakuru, which is just over half way between Kitale and Nairobi for a 15-minute stop. I get back on the bus to see my seat partner is now sitting in my seat. He asks if we can change seats; I wanted to kiss the man; I was so excited. Ah, I can sleep. Maybe it’s because I could sort of lean my head on the window (as it smacked off the window over every pothole and bump in the road – which was about every 2.4 seconds). And I slept; it was wonderful.

I arrived in Nairobi at around 6:20 in the morning. The sun was starting to come up and the streets were already crazy busy with people getting to work. I had about 2 hours before the place I had to be at opened so I sat in a little restaurant outside the Easy Coach office and waited.

Then the time came, I did my trek down Moi Avenue (the road that separates the good side of Nairobi to the bad side of Nairobi), then turn down, Mama….something or other. I studied the map that Daniel had done up for me while I was waiting in the restaurant. I wanted to look like I knew EXACTLY where I was going. I refused to look like the crazy white tourist. Thankfully I decided not to carry my camera around my neck that day and the safari outfits that every white person seems to wear when they come to Africa. :-)

There it was - the office building I needed to get to. It was a bit of an intimidating building; guards with guns and a metal detector as you went through the doors but hey, honestly, it was cool!

I meet with the guy I’m to meet. We do the first step in the process we are supposed to do and then we find out that the second step won’t be ready for about 2 to 3 days. But the guy I meet knows that I just traveled all the way overnight from Kitale so he says, “Let me see what I can do. Give me two hours.” So I walked over to this restaurant that Daniel and I went to one time and ordered breakfast. No sooner had I gotten my food, my cell phone rang. It was the guy telling me to come to his office.

So I get there (eating my food really quickly and not drinking my tea) to find out that they can’t get it all finished today and that I’ll need to come back Thursday. He was very apologetic, knowing I had just come from Kitale. So I headed back to the place I started from (Easy Coach office) and grabbed a shuttle. It’s basically a matatu (11 passenger van) that goes from Nairobi to Eldoret. I found one right away that was almost full so I bought a ticket and got in….in the back…..the very back.

Within 10 minutes, we were off. I was in Nairobi by 6:20 am and out of Nairobi by 10:20 am. Amazing!!! The way home was crazy; the bumps and potholes, when sitting at the back of the shuttle, are so much more…bigger and a bit more annoying. I must have been airborne about 15 times, my butt literally coming off of the seat.

Thankfully, I had this really sweet first-year law student sitting next to me and she and I ended up chatting for most of the ride. We shared stories, chocolate and shoulders to lean on when tired.

After arriving in Eldoret at about 4:45 pm, I went to the parking stage to get a van taxi to Kitale and thankfully, there was one there waiting for passengers. We waited for about 15 minutes or so and we were on the road. I was heading home….to my bed and to my friends. I missed Kate, Amanda and Daniel.

I made it home, yesterday, around 6:15 p.m. And the fun thing is, I get to do this all over again, starting tomorrow night. To Nairobi, run around the city, back to Eldoret, then to Kitale. And thankfully that will be it for a long time….hopefully!!!!

So that’s my Nairobi adventure. It was nothing exciting but I did it by myself. And not for a moment was I scared, nervous or freaked-out. I actually liked it…but ssshhh, don’t tell anyone. :-)

Anyway, lots more going on that I’ll get to soon.

Love you all.
xoxoxo

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Street Kids Day...

Today…so much went on today.

First, I actually left the house. After three days of being cooped up from this crazy cold I have, I finally decided that I better leave the house today OR go completely insane spending one more day in the house ALONE.

Secondly, this morning we did a food delivery to one of our families. This was the first food delivery that our interns, Kate & Amanda got to be a part of. Also with us, was a guy from the US who is here for a few more days that we just met through a friend and invited him along. His name is Jared. Anyway, we got to town, did the shopping with our social worker, Anne, loaded up the pick-up truck and away we went.

It was a bit of an adventure getting there. The roads were extremely muddy due to the torrential downpour of rain yesterday evening. We can predict now, for the past week, that it is going to rain between 3:00 and 4:00 every day….and it does…a lot. After some intense fishtailing and a cow’s face hitting the back of the pick up truck during the fishtailing, we finally reached our destination. Yes, it was the cow’s fault, not the fault of the driver or the fishtailing backend of the truck. Just to clarify!

This is a family that I have told you about in the past. It is a woman caring for her children and the children of her deceased sister. There are a total of 10 children under her care. They live in a two-room house made up of mud and a tin roof. All of the children were in school, except for the youngest (too young for school), who was entertaining himself with a toy. It definitely wasn’t your typical North American toy. It was a thick branch with a nail on the end of it and poked through the nail was a round plastic lid. This lid was the wheel and he just pushed this thing, the stick around, with a runny, snotty nose and a beautiful smile on his face. He was just precious, having the time of his life with a toy that we couldn’t even fathom playing with in North America.

One of the older boys was home; sick with malaria so en route to town, we took the mother to the pharmacy to buy the boy medication to clear up the malaria.

Once in town, we did a bit of shopping/running around and as we waited for Daniel in the bank, we got bombarded by street boys. Bombarded isn’t the right word because then that would come across that I didn’t like having them all around but in fact, I could spend all day with those kids sitting on a curb. They light up my day. Every time I walk down the street and I hear one of them or even ten of them call my name, I beam.

My little Simon (I have to get a pic of him and put it out for all to see), he’s just a gem. He’s smart, funny and such a sweetheart. He shouldn’t be on the street; he’s too smart for the street; he has way too much potential. Daniel asked him today why he doesn’t sniff glue, he’s exact answer was, “Mary refuses!” Because I don’t like the glue sniffing, he doesn’t do it because he knows that it would upset me. How honest he is about that, who knows.

All the boys were imitating me and my non-existent voice and then they would all say how sorry they were that I was sick and then they’d go back to imitating me. I’m going to take it like I was told in grade school – if a boy teases you, it means he likes you. So, I’m going to say that the kids like me; they know that they can tease me and that I will still hug on them later.

Afterward, we decided to venture to a place that very few white people go….the back of one of the buildings where all the hardcore street kids hang out. For those of you who have seen Glue Boys, it is where most of the footage is shot (garbage piles, kids fighting, selling of glue, etc.). About once a week, Daniel and I would go and stand about two floors up and just look over the veranda down below at the area but today we thought that we would try sitting out there, on the same level as them and just hang out. So we took the interns and Jared and honestly, prepared for the worse. But imagine our surprise, we sat down on the steps of the building and within a minute, we were surrounded by street kids – girls and boys – mothers and babies – and not one single problem. They came over and greeted us and sat with us.

There is a forgotten group of street kids and that is the street girls. They’re life is so much worse on the streets then it is for the boys. They live a life of rape, slaves and prostitution. You don’t see much of them during the day (except in specific areas deep in the streets) but we are told that they can be found at night around the discos, prostituting themselves to the drunkards who come out of the bars. And yes, these girls are as young as 11 or 12 years old, giving themselves over to grown, disgusting men just for a few cents (not even dollars) per man.

These girls have been on Daniel’s and mine hearts for some time now. And this is one of the reasons why we have chosen to go to this place every week; we want the girls to see us, know us because God has touched Daniel and me in a way with these girls, a really passionate way. We’re still in the praying, discussing stages of where God wants us to go and what to do so I’ll leave it at that for now.

After a few minutes of standing a few feet away, one of the street girls, Rose, came and sat right next to me. And then she put her head on my shoulder – I was shocked, amazed and beyond happy. So I slowly wrapped my around her, watching for her expression, for any sign of fear or tension. None…I got to leave my arm wrapped around her the whole time.

After an hour or so, we had to leave as we had the weekly street kid feeding program at our church. So we told all the street kids around us, including Rose to come with us. As we walked down the street, Rose put her arm around me and I did to her as well. We all walked through the town and had a crowd of street kids walking with us. I’m sure most Kenyans thought us white people were crazy – hugging and walking with all of these street kids. The whole way to the church, Rose never let go of my hand.

When we got to the church, there were already about 35 street kids there and we brought another 15 or so with us. The beginning part of it has a bit of ministering to the kids and then comes the food. Rose was a little shy to go and get the food, being a street girl in a stream of street boys – as the boys do run the street so Kate went and got her some food. She stuck beside me the whole time.

All the boys, the ones who weren’t with us in town earlier, did the whole “let’s imitate Mary’s very scratchy pathetic voice.” So that was 10 minutes of fun for them and my kicking their butts! :-)

It was a great day; a great day with the street kids. I love them; I truly love them. I wish that I could take each and every one of them and house them and bathe them and feed them. But all I can do is hug them, encourage them and love them. Maybe that’s enough for now, who knows.

Also, Jared from Canada is coming to Kenya in two weeks so if you want to add anything to me (birthday cards maybe – my birthday is just a few weeks away!! – hint! hint!), let me know. Also, ladies – if you have any flip-flops (sizes 7.5 to 8.5) that you don’t want anymore, please let me know too or email Catherine.

Prayer requests:

  1. The interns and Daniel – that they don’t catch my cold. It’s a bad one and they don’t deserve to get it.
  2. Me – that I just get healed soon of this horrible cold. I’m tired of the sleepless nights and being out of energy. Ugh, it sucks!
  3. Our friendship with the street girls – we just really want to start building a relationship with them, a good, trusting relationship with them.

That’s all. I love you and miss you all.

Meredith
xoxoxoxo


Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Hate Being Sick...

Here I am sitting at home while everyone else has gone out to work and have fun.

It'll be a week tomorrow that I got sick and I feel like it's been the longest week EVER. There's only so much you can do at home: lay down, sleep, watch a movie, eat a banana, lay down, sleep, watch another movie, eat another banana. See, not very exciting is it?

I can handle being sick for a day or maybe two but six days....this is getting a bit ridiculous. I can't sing because my voice is gone (not that I can sing when I have a voice though); I can't dance because after thirty seconds of any type of movement I'm ready to take a two hour nap and I can't wash or rinse dishes because who wants my sickliness all over clean dishes. Not me and definitely not the poor people I live with?!?!?

I want to be healed; I ask to be healed. I have to take a bus to Nairobi on Thursday night and head back home on Friday afternoon on a bus; I need to be healed.

See....I'm tired now. This typing has made me tired. I need to have a nap now. So couch and comfy blanket, here I come!

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

First blog on blogspot

Everyone else is doing it, why shouldn't I? Right? And I'm talking about this blogging stuff.

I'm not going to go in to a who am I, what I do sort of thing because honestly, the people who will be reading this are people who already know me and know what I'm doing.

It's been awhile since I did an update on myspace, on facebook (yes I have those too!) and well, just a general email out to friends and family. This is what the blogspot is going to be used for. I thought that maybe it will be easier to jot down my thoughts, events more frequently on here, rather than sending out an email every few weeks that's an average of 6-7 pages long.

I hope I can keep up with this thing....actually I'm sure our interns, Kate & Amanda will make sure that I keep this updated on a regular basis. It's up to the rest of you to read it on a regular basis too.

Anyway, on to what has been going on the past few weeks.

Well, we had Jessica from Oregon, our first Transformed International intern come and stay with us for five weeks. It was awesome to have her here; to have someone else around here. Unfortunately the time of her stay went by way too quickly and she had to leave us Sunday night. I miss her already. :-(

Daniel went and picked up our two other interns, the week before - Kate & Amanda. They are a riot (from Texas) and I knew from the moment they got here that they were going to bring a lot of life to this place over the next few months. Kate is with us for 3.5 months and Amanda for 6 months.
Before any of you laugh at me in the below picture, I just want you all to know that I have been battling a crazy cold (includes really bad, sore, swollen throat, stuffy nose, water eyes and horrendous cough) since last Thursday. The only positive thing about it, for everyone else's sake, is that I have no voice. Thanks to Daniel, Amanda & Kate for taking such amazing care of me over the past few days.
Here is a picture of our team.


(Back: Todd, Amanda. Middle: Meredith, Kate, Daniel. Front: Jessica)

This was the day that Jessica was leaving so we were all pretty sad. Who knew that you could really feel a loss of a family member after spending only 5 weeks with them. We miss you Jessica!!
In less than three weeks, we gain another family member, my buddy Jared from my home church in Canada. Daniel is so excited to be having Jared here (so am I, of course). I think Daniel can only handle so many women around him for so long. I'm sure he's looking forward to some guy time. :-)
I finally got to meet the wonderful Lydia who is behind the start-up of Oasis of Hope.. Oasis of Hope is a street children rescue centre (and much more) here in Kitale, Kenya. Some of the children that were in the movie Glue Boys (http://www.glueboys.com/) are now living in the Oasis of Hope family homes.

I met Lydia via myspace (what an awesome invention) and she came to Kitale just a few weeks ago and we finally got to meet. Right away, we knew who each other were. We had her and the Kenyan director of Oasis of Hope, Geoffrey over for dinner one night and it was such a great night with us all. Lydia is a complete ray of sunshine and brings laughter to every place she goes. She's leaving on a jet plane back to the US tonight but she'll be back in the new year so we'll be hooking up again, I'm sure.

Other than that, life is going on well. There is so much going on with Transformed International (TI) right now, it's great. God is certainly moving around us and in us. He has revealed a lot to us these past few weeks and I find that He is wanting to work with me in areas that need to be worked in, which is what I want.
If you are looking for a child to sponsor, please check out our website. We have a few children in our program that have yet to be sponsored. You can go to http://www.transformedinternational.org
Also, you can put your email address under Subscribe Here on the right of my blog page. You will receive an email every time I update on this page and you will be able to link and read my updates. I hope this works.
If anyone wants to send me something with Jared when he comes in a few weeks, email me and I will tell you how to get it to him before he comes.
Blessings!
xoxoxoxo