Africa Part 4 of 10

The church compound is maybe an acre or so. It consists of a good-sized church building, a building with a few Sunday school rooms and an apartment, a building with one Sunday school room and a covered area, and a small residential building. There is room in the yard for games; there is a basketball court and a little metal monkey-bar type play set. Also there is a latrine and a guard shack. There are some pretty sizeable water collection tanks that save the rain water that runs off the roofs, for later use because there is no city water service. And, as with many building and "real" houses here, most of the grounds are surrounded with a brick wall. There is a portion out by the basketball court that is chain link fence, through which you can see a mud triplex in the next lot.

I was so overwhelmed by all the activities and experiences of the day, I think it best to just hit some highlights and maybe expand on
a few. So here goes:

- Only about 80% of the kids had shoes at all, and of those that did, I'd say about 85% wore flip-flops. At least one had mismatched flip-flops. I only saw one pair of socks.

- Kids came in for Sunday school first; they were very interested in the wazungu (white people). They were especially interested in the mzungu (white person) with the cameras. I filled up at least one 512Meg card and had to download it as I took 250-300 photos that day. As the day went on, the kids were more and more eager to get their picture taken and loved it when I would flip the viewfinder screen around so they could see themselves.

- Some of the smaller kids were more tentative of the white people.
Some were downright scared and would cry when I looked at them (kinda reminded me of home).

- They liked to feel our arms because they were soft, with the hair on them. They also liked to rub our heads to feel our hair. Most of them had very short, course hair (even the girls). I guess it is so brittle that it usually won't grow long.

- One thing that stood out was how older siblings would bring and take care of younger siblings. There were 9-10 year olds caring for youngsters (down to maybe 6 months old). There were 5 to 7 year olds watching and carrying younger siblings. They would care for them, take them to the choo (toilet), fix their buttons, keep them close in lines and put their arms around them to keep track of them. I saw many a time where a 2 or 3 year old would fall asleep and another child, maybe 7, would pick them up (on their back or over their shoulder) and head out of the gate and down the dirt road toward home, sometimes carrying the sleeping child's flip flops so they didn't get lost.

- They really seemed to enjoy coloring also. It is a treat for them, even if the crayons are just small pieces (the crayons we brought were still in lost luggage land). They were excited to show me what they had colored and, as soon as I knelt down to look at one, they all flocked and I had to look at each one and smile. Some of these kids were boys and a little older, maybe 10ish, but still wanted me to see the whale they had colored.

- There were a lot of worn, torn and tattered clothes. Some of the girls' dresses had broken zippers down the back, so they would just keep adjusting them. Some were just the short zipper at the top. But I also saw a broken zipper that went all the way down the back, and you could see her underwear. She would still play the games and just seemed happy to be "dressed up for church". Another kid was carrying his sister, when he went to put her down I could see that she wasn't wearing anything underneath her dress. He smoothed out her dress, took her hand and led her into church. I still get tears in my eyes thinking about those kids. But it seems to be me feeling sorry for them, more than them feeling sorry for themselves. They seem to be content because they have not known any other way. They really seemed to enjoy hanging around the church and especially playing games.

- Even if they didn't know any better. I couldn't help but feel sorrow for all the lost childhood joys. It seems to me that these kids are being forced to grow up way too early and given too much responsibility. I was amazed at how well they did taking care of the youngsters, not picking on them or bullying them. Caring for them and holding them as they sleep. It was awesome to see them be able to play games. They loved the competition and would rejoice loudly when they would win. They would run around barefoot on the rocky ground. I just cannot explain the joy they showed in the midst of the life they live.

- The kids were very familiar with the handshake and most knew "how are you?” even if they didn't speak English. They would emphasize the "you"; "How are YOU?” They would smile as they held out their hand for a shake. I think, and maybe I am wrong, but I think they were extra exited to see that white people were willing to shake their hand and ruffle their hair. They were also aware of "bumping the rock", you know, greeting each other with clenched fists (the friendly way). They didn't seem to have ever seen the slap/slide/rock greeting. But once shown it, they were all too happy to try it over and over. I started it in one of the lines and then I had to go down the entire line and get everybody, some multiple times. They would all smile really big because they now knew how to do it. The following day, some of the boys came up and made sure to do it again, grinning like they knew the secret handshake or something.

- Another thing that amazed us all was the team from Kisumu Baptist Church. They were all young 16-23ish. They were all bilingual (or more) and were the leaders of the church. The pastor was probably a bit older, but still in his 20s (?) and I found him very dynamic, even when he was speaking Swahili. These young people led Sunday school, preached and helped run the church. They were incredible.

- During the day, I kept putting the camera away because I'd already taken too many pictures. But I also kept getting it back out, because I would see something else that I never wanted to forget.

- We sure did attract a lot of attention, a carload of white people. Right after VBS, we went to eat at a Chinese restaurant. We had to be pulled away from the kids. They just wanted to hang around afterwards. They wanted to touch our skin, touch our hair, but most of all; they wanted their picture taken. When we got to the restaurant, I had to take the laptop and both cameras in so they didn't get stolen. After we had finished eating, we bagged up all the leftovers. Outside the restaurant, we could see a small group of homeless boys, ages in the 9-13 range or so. One of our guys gave

them our leftovers; they came running to meet him, and then scampered off into the darkness.

- I've heard many statistics and seen many more online, they aren't always exactly the same, but all tell a similar story: 50% of the population in Kenya is under 18 years old. As opposed to the US, where half the population acts like they are under 18. Estimates say that in 10 years, if things don't change, 70% will be less than 15 years old. The main problem: disease, more specifically: AIDS. Forty percent of the adults in Kisumu are carriers of HIV. There are other diseases also, two of the Kisumu team contracted malaria while we were there. They were lucky enough to get drugs (many can't) and were able to get feeling better.

- More statistics: 50-60% unemployment, those that do have jobs, average 4000 shillings a month, that's about $50 a month.

The first full day here was very interesting and somewhat overwhelming. The kids were great, they really made me long to hug my own little girls, very tightly. Everybody, including adults, was very polite.

Overall impression: An entire culture going down. Sounds harsh, but with so much adversity, where else could they go. They don't need to live like we do, but they do need to change some of their ways, some of their living conditions. I am both saddened by their plight and, at the same time, given hope from their innocent contentment.

OK, what's with all the deep intellectual stuff?

Onward to Monday...

On Monday morning a couple of us went next door. There is an outreach center there called "Into Africa". They take homeless boys in off the street and try to help them become self-sufficient. We got there as they were doing their morning devotions. They were meeting in a three walled metal shed; there were about 25 boys. They looked like fairly normal Kenyan boys, a little older than the kids from VBS, probably in their teens. They all had been living on the streets and each had their own sad stories to tell. After the devotion time, they went off to their classes. They had classes on site, as you can imagine, some were pretty illiterate when they came here. There was just two classes; beginning and advanced. Each class would cover multiple subjects (readin', writin', 'rithmatic). You could see emptiness in their eyes, but I think that there was also a bit of pride coming through.

These boys are here by choice, maybe not much of a choice, and maybe other people's choices put them in this position, but they could leave anytime they wanted to. But they stayed, to learn. While they were in class, I had a chance to tour the grounds on my own. Around back of the schoolroom was the boys' dorm, or whatever you want to call it. It was a brick building with cement floors. It had a bathroom, a shower and three bedrooms. That was all the rooms it had, no living room, kitchen, or dining room. The boys ate outside on a patio with a metal roof. The bedrooms were small; the first two rooms each had 3 bunk beds in them (to sleep 6 in each room). However the rooms were so small, that there were no doors and you would need to crawl onto the middle bunk just to get into the room and then crawl over to one of the other bunks. The third room was a little larger, but contained 7 bunk beds with a little walkway from the door to the bunks in the back. No closets, no dressers, no chairs, no toys, no gadgets, no privacy. But it was nonetheless a step up from the street.


Meanwhile, back at home base, we still didn't have our luggage, but as each day passed, I was coming to realize that it wasn't really that important anyway. We were mostly concerned with the bags that contained some supplies and gifts for VBS. The one suitcase that did make it was the one containing a bunch of tortillas we brought for the missionaries and also the medical bag that a doctor from church had filled with supplies and drugs and anything we may have needed for a medical situation.

We did decide to go and buy some new clothes though; mainly because we needed something to wear while we painted the extra apartment at the church. I got a couple shirts, some shorts and some fancy new shoes. And just for the record, I also purchased some underwear. They didn't have any normal briefs. They had some boxers, some bikini thingy's, some brief-shorts thingy's and some things that looked like a cross between the shorts that NBA players wore during the 70s and something Ma Walton would wear. Anyway, I will just leave it at that....
Just when I thought I'd seen deprived living conditions; we took a drive through the slums. We turned off the paved road onto a dirt "road", it was more like a path or a trail, and not many cars come down this way. The first thing I noticed, other than the trash all over, is what looks like a sewage puddle in the middle of the road. It stretched for a block or so down the dirt road. We drove right through it. I am told that this "neighborhood" is about 1mile wide and 1.5miles deep and that 100,000 people live here.

This place is virtually indescribable (for me anyway), but I'll try briefly:

We drove between little mud huts, shacks and shanties. There was little or no running water, no electricity. Kids would look because of the sound of the car. I took a picture of a boy standing in a garbage mound, while a couple different spots were still smoldering maybe a yard from his bare feet. At the same time, you could hear a child crying in the distance. He had turned and run, crying, when he saw the carload of white people pull up. In the midst of all this, we came to the spot we were looking for, a very non-descriptive, odd-shaped lot (because the paths were not laid out straight) that the new Victory Baptist Church was going to be built on. One of the Kisumu team is going to pastor it.

After lunch we headed back to VBS. The kids were happy to be back and seemed exited to see us. The kids were separated into three groups. Not by age, but by language. There was English (the smallest group), Lao (pretty big group) and Swahili (the largest group). Although this enabled the older kids to take care of their siblings, it also had some disadvantages. They all seemed to do well during lesson time and while singing (worship time), but during game time, I felt sorry for two different groups of kids:

1) The older ones that had to keep an eye on their brothers and sisters instead of concentrating on the game, and

2) The younger ones that couldn't understand or were too small to participate in the games. As the week went on, and there were more of the young kids, someone would try to entertain them while the older ones were playing. I tried to help out with this a few times and it was kinda difficult. Especially when you don't speak the same language. I tried to use hand motions, but, again, a different culture will not necessarily understand that either. I tried to get them to scoot back (I was doing the old "pushem back" hand signals) and form a line behind a certain point (I was tapping my foot where I wanted the line to start and trying to simulate a line with my hands); they would just start mimicking me. Before too long, it looked like I was leading the whole group in the hokey-pokey.

Our team was kinda starting to get that "how can we help these people" mindset. We had some good discussions and there were very good intentions, however, I don't see us having nearly the power or influence needed to solve the situation. I am not in the least saying that they should be written off, but it would take a lot of fully committed people a long time to see any progress.

We finally got email today. That is a strange thing to comprehend also. There is so much poverty and destitution, but we can still email half way around the world. Not without problems. I had emailed home the day we arrived, but the server was down and the email wasn't able to go out until today. I was one of two team members who received emails today, it was very exciting and just nice to hear from family.

Speaking of hearing from home, the night before I left, my wife (no names please) had given me a bundle of envelopes. There was one for each day and they were labeled on the outside by days. Each day I would get to open one of the envelopes. Inside each one was a note from either family or friends. This was an awesome idea. I looked forward to this each day, to see who they were from and, if I liked the person, I'd read the note. Actually, I think I read them all anyway. I really appreaciated the time and thoughts put into them, they were great. Some were even a bit humorous, some were more serious. Some tried to be funny, but weren't (you know who you are).

I wore my new shoes to VBS today. The soles are very thin; I guess maybe my feet are a bit wimpier than the Kenyans. They were so thin I could push the soles in with my fingers. I've had socks that were thicker than these soles. Next time, I think I will just put a baggie around each foot and call it good. What do you expect for 695 shillings? My feet were sore by the end of the day. Hey, what was the phone number to that "Sole Mates" place?

Tuesday:
We got started scrubbing walls and ceilings, spackling and painting the apartment today, nothing to exciting about that. I did get to wear my new clothes though. Actually, I was so tired of the shirt I'd been wearing all week; I wore it, hoping to get paint on it so I would never have to wear it again.
We saw someone riding a camel down the street. Hmmm, that's something you don't see everyday. The last time I saw something that ugly going down the street, it said Pontiac Aztec on the side and had an Ozzy Ozborne clone behind the wheel.