Friday's Child

At 8:15 am, July 5, 2013, he came into the world, weighing a mere 1.8 kg (just under 4 lbs). He wasn't breathing, but Rachel (Andersen) and Susanna (the nurse) revived him. His mother, a sixteen-year-old student at the Polytechnic School, came to Susanna with "period pains", keeping his existence a secret until the very last. 

Among the Gabra, having a child out of wedlock means being utterly cut off from society. If your baby's father is an older, more established man, he may perhaps redeem you through marriage, likely as a second wife, but if the father is young, marriage will do nothing to help your case - it seems many girls choose not to even identify the father. I was told that there is a sacrifice that can be made, if a new mother's family is willing to accept and take her back in despite everything: A pregnant sheep would be killed, and its entrails poured over the mother to redeem her - she would then return to her family, taking her place among them as if a widow. As it is extremely unusual for a widow to ever re-marry, this means all one's hopes of a "normal" Gabra future could be permanently dashed at a very young age.

 

After having kept her pregnancy a secret for seven months (the baby was premature), this new mother is now facing the reality of potentially being completely ostracised by her family and friends. She isn't from Kalacha, but has been studying here at the technical school, so we will see how her family reacts within the next few days - whether they will come to take her, or if she will be left alone. 

I know that in North America, similar situations can be found all around, but at the very least, there are pregnancy resource centres, support networks - systems set up to catch those whose families let them fall. Here, there is nothing if you don't have family or friends who are willing to break with culture and take you in - the missionaries are the support system.

I visited the mother and the newborn baby yesterday afternoon to afford Susanna a rest (the amount of work she does is beyond comprehension) - I was supposed to relieve Rachel of the same duty (she too had been working all day to take care of her whole family and help Susanna with the newborn baby); the mother wasn't exactly emotionally stable, so I was just going to keep her company. I held the tiny, tiny little boy, and he brought tears to my eyes - my heart melted completely. He was so small and perfect and had to be held near - even in the desert heat, there is danger of him catching cold. I couldn't stop smiling. He is beautiful. It broke, and breaks, my heart to know how unwanted he is, and breaks me again to think of the mother and what she will do. She looked so, so young. ... Because she is, I suppose. 

Just as Rachel was about to leave, after leaving her alone all day, the mother finally received visitors. Some older women came in first - it was incredibly sad to see the lack of compassion on their faces; I didn't understand as they spoke in Gabra, but by Rachel's estimation, they were chewing her out for having had premarital sex/a baby. The reality is, I suppose, that it couldn't be avoided forever.... But the mother's younger sister came in next with friends, and it seemed that they were more loving. They went out again to a duka to bring her back a gift, and some of the women who visited later also brought a gift. It was encouraging to see some who were more caring. When it came down to it, however, no one was willing to take her in for the night, so for now she stays with Susanna. Yesterday, they reached her mother, and today her family has come to stay for a few days - we'll see what happens next. 

News seemed to spread around town quickly. I was at the nomadic girls' school earlier in the day to visit some teachers, and when I said hi to some of the standard eight students, they asked many questions about the mother and child, though I had not much information to give. I told them what I knew, having not yet visited the mother, and made a comment about her likely being lonely, and how I hoped that her family would accept her. "Tsk tsk, nooo!" "No no, of course not!" - These were the responses from the girls, young teens mostly, to that hope of acceptance! I had a chance to respond and attempt to explain the importance of love and support even when someone has done something that goes against culture, and reminded them that we do not even know her story and should not be so quick to judge. I hope they actually listened and that this opens up opportunity for further discussion. From what I've witnessed and been told, the Gabra are not a people quick to forgive. Rachel made what I thought was a very profound comment as we stood together watching the older Gabra women speaking to the mother in the clinic - "There isn't room in Christianity for those who aren't willing to forgive." It's almost ironic, when we think of all the times people, even, and at times especially, "Christians", rail on others for their mistakes, calling attention to their sin at every chance, throwing love to the side in an effort to punish someone for breaking the rules. It completely misses the point: grace.

The baby has now been given a name; it's a derivative of the Gabra word for "Friday" (there are male and female names for every day of the week): Adano. Please think of and pray for Adano and his mother tonight, that they would feel how valued and loved they are despite the shame being heaped on the young mother, and that grace and forgiveness would be shown, by her family especially.

Teacha Teacha!

In this past week, I've:

- faced my fear of being in the centre of a dance circle

- taught an impromptu PE class to 60+ students 

- sat with teachers gathered around the radio anxiously awaiting news of an impending teachers' strike

- developed a strange, almost-but-not-quite Kenyan English accent in an effort to help my students understand me -- whatever it is, it seems to do the trick!

- successfully drummed on a cupboard, keeping beat to my students' singing - I think they were definitely surprised that I could, given the astonished looks and requests for a solo!

I find it both hilarious and discomfiting to receive so much extra attention simply because I am a mzungu (white person) - the children, both at school, and in the village, will run up to both Leah and I, shaking hands over and over, touching hair, brushing our arms... I suppose in some ways it's a blessing, really, because it also makes them extra attentive in class, wondering what we will say next! I've had a standard 5 class pull me into their classroom during a free period just to talk and teach each other songs, and a standard 4 class ask me to teach them PE. The only trouble is when they all run up at once, sharing their names, and then later return to ask, "Teacha, what is my name?" "Teacha, and me, what is mine?" Some common ones for girls are Arbe, Adho, Tallasso, and Kame. Let's just say that memorizing over 300 names is no small task, but at least it makes us feel very welcomed :) 

Some of Standard 7A :)

Overall, it's been a wonderful week. The girls at the Kalacha Nomadic Girls' School, where I have been teaching health education to standards 6, A&B, 7, A&B, 8, A&B, are fantastic, and love to sing a song (or 2 or 3) at the end of each lesson. Upon requests that I teach them a song, I've brought out "Romans 16:19 - Be excellent, at what is good, be innocent, of evil" etc., one of my favourites from camp, and they love it, with all the fun actions (for those of you who are familiar with it)!

But now, for the big, and very sad news: 

The Kenyan teachers' strike is now in effect; it started off down country a little while ago, and officially spread to the schools up north as of this week, with Kalacha Primary School shutting down Wednesday, and the Nomadic Girls' School shutting down on Thursday. The standard 8 classes are remaining at both schools, so Leah and I are hoping to continue to help out as they review for their big, final examination (standard 8 is the final year of primary school, before they move on to secondary education). There are many other opportunities to serve in the village as well. I may help out Susanna, a missionary nurse who is affiliated with both AIM and a German organization, doing whatever needs doing at the dispensary, and continuing to get to know local families. We shall see what all falls into place. Most of the teachers think the strike will not last long - it seems that the government is listening, from what I've heard on the radio, but you never really know for sure with these things. Prayers are appreciated, as it is discouraging to have one's main area of service so cut off! I do believe, however, that things will work out for the best, and I am looking forward to seeing what alternate opportunities present themselves for as long as the strike lasts. 

In the meantime, I must be off - our friend Doke has graciously invited Leah and I to a traditional Gabra wedding, even allowing for pictures, so bright colours, camels, a feast, and who knows how many hours of singing ahead! It starts at 3pm, and the bride is presented is at 4:30am. Wish us luck ;)

Kalacha - An Introduction

There is so much to say, and so little Internet time left for the day. I'll be brief.
Kalacha, Kenya. It's beautiful, a struggle, and SUCH an adventure, more so than even I thought. Those mental images I had of red sand, stiff dry heat, huts woven together with colourful fabric, and billowing skirts are all accurate, with, obviously, much more depth, reality, and beauty added. That, and a LOT of wind.

The stars are crystal clear, and when the sun begins to set, the shades of red and green turn to blue and grey, while a warm line of lingering light on the horizon turns the acacia trees to silhouettes.

The first day here on Friday was long and exhausting, but after some sleep and prayer, things improved. I'm becoming steadily more excited to be here (the growth is exponential, in fact!) Yesterday, I gave my first health education talk at the Polytechnic School (like a trade school for older boys and girls). The notice was pretty short however - I only found out one day in advance, and had to prepare a two-hour talk for teenagers on STIs, HIV/AIDS, nutrition, drug/alcohol abuse, and female circumcision. Talk about jumping in with both feet! Praise God, it went better than expected. From now on, I'll be teaching health education at the Kalacha Primary School (mostly boys) for standards (grades) 7 and 8, and at the Nomadic Girls' Primary School, for standards 6, 7, and 8. Nobody seems to be teaching health education on a regular basis at either school, so I have the pleasure (or excellent life skills building experience at least!) of creating my own curriculum.

First day of teaching! 

Orientation, Round 2: Nairobi

Expect little text, and many pictures.

Tomorrow morning, I, along with my short term partner, Leah, are headed up-country to Kalacha. There's a lot of excitement in the air. Two of the other girls with whom I just finished orientation here in Nairobi will also be flying with us, being dropped off at Korr, also in the North.

Orientation over the past two days has been a whirlwind. Our short term coordinator for the Eastern Region, PJ, is fantastic, as his wife, Emily, and his assistant, Janet.

En route to Kijabe.

Yesterday, we took a 1.5 hour road trip to Kijabe with PJ, Emily, and their ridiculously adorable 7 year old daughter and almost 5 year old son. We visited Rift Valley Academy (RVA), the AIC Kijabe hospital, and ate a traditional Kenyan lunch at Mama Chiku's in town.

RVA

Sarah, Leah, and I, at RVA.

Bethany Kids at Kijabe Hospital. Amazing work and ministry.

Mama Chiku's. Best chapatis.

I was also reunited with Kathleen, one of the short termers I went through orientation with in Toronto! She was in Kijabe for a short while with her missionary family. On the way back to the guest house, we experienced "the jam" - that is, the daily traffic event in Nairobi that can turn a half hour commute into a four hour test of endurance.

Kathleen and I, outside a dorm house at RVA.

Today, we had orientation at the Eastern Region AIM Office in the morning, and in the afternoon experienced the challenge of shopping for food for two people that is supposed to last 8-10 weeks of breakfasts and suppers!

Leah and I, and our receipt for 54 kilos of food!

The evening brought a fantastic visit from an old friend who most of you will know. I don't know when I'll see him next, but after a year, it was beyond cool to meet in Kenya!! Click here to read about the work Daniel's been doing with SIM in Nairobi over the past year.

Much enthusiasm :)

And now, it's definitely bedtime. Will write to you next from Kalacha!

Touchdown in Nairobi!

(Note: this was written about 9 hours ago, 11:30pm EAT, but I had no Internet connection 'til now!)

First things first: I've made it safe and sound to the place I'll be staying for the next three days in Nairobi. There you go Mom and Dad ;)

The trip: was practically non-stop after Vancouver. A short, 50-minute layover in Amsterdam was sandwiched by a nine-hour and an eight-hour flight. Time flew; I don't feel like it could've actually been that long, but it's kind of strange to think that I've technically spent most of June 10th and nearly all of June 11th sitting in a plane. I've already experienced some neat perks of travelling alone, namely, meeting new people! On the flight from Amsterdam to Nairobi, I sat beside two men, one, a Kenyan businessman with children ranging in age from five to twenty-five years (whoa!); he helped me practice some Swahili and gave both myself and our other row-mate his business card if ever we're looking for a place to stay in Kisumu. The other was a college pastor from the South Eastern US who has two cute kids himself (family stories were swapped), and was on his way to Kitale with a couple other men to speak at a church planting conference. He saw my Bible which got conversation flowing, and the businessman from Kisumu attends an African Inland Church! Hey-o!

At the airport, once my visa and luggage were obtained, I found the person waiting outside the arrival area with my name on a sign. (Just like in the movies, and yes, it does feel cool.) There were several of us taking the van back to the guest house, and on the ride I chatted with a lovely young woman named Irene, who lives near the Ugandan border, as well as two men from Northern Ireland and California. 

So far, everyone I've spoken with about my going to Northern Kenya has said it's like a different world, hardly the same country. The man from California said whenever the North is talked about, it's in terms of famine, drought, and dry, desert-ness. He said it's as if it's been forgotten by the rest of the country, an orphan. The businessman from Kisumu told me that it is good that I am going, that there, they really need health education; he laughed as he suggested that perhaps I should be going for 10 months rather than 10 weeks. 

The trip could hardly have gone more smoothly, other than a burst bottle of hand sanitizer in my suitcase. Serves me right for wanting to be clean. But, it's lemony fresh so now everything smells fantastic. #silverlinings

Off to sleep for now! Lala salama to me :)

Surprise Surprise!

They tell you that cross-cultural volunteering requires flexibility, that Africa requires a high degree of laid-back-ness and willingness to work with changes, and frankly, I'm looking forward to how this will challenge and cause me to grow.

The first surprise and change of plan has recently come my way. In my first post, I told you I would be primarily teaching English at the Nomadic Girls' Primary School. However, I've recently been informed that health education is going to be my main focus, and that I will likely be teaching at all three schools in the village, including at a technical school made up mainly of older (16+) boys. Oi. I may also teach Christian religious education at one or more schools, as it seems this is part of the government curriculum. Although it's somewhat more out of my comfort zone to teach health education as opposed to English, I'm embracing the idea more and more, as it is another area of education that I'm passionate about. Especially in rural areas, education about HIV/AIDS, STIs, and even basic sanitation is often sorely lacking, and a little knowledge can go a long way. I've been told that there is a curriculum there in place for me to follow, but if any of you reading have experience teaching in this field, I would definitely appreciate advice.

The suggestion to teach PE, time permitting, has also been put forward. ... I kind of laughed at that idea, a lot. Umm, music workshops? Art class even, please? ... Let's just say that limb-eye coordination and ball sports aren't exactly my forte. I guess I could teach the students to stretch really well. Maybe hike or kayak. Except for the fact that it's flat, and a desert. Anyways, we'll see how that one goes ;)

Rakkoo, in the Borana-Arsi-Guji Oromo language, of which the local language, Gabra, is a dialect, means "difficulty". This change-up is unlikely to prove my biggest difficulty (I mean really, I haven't even left the continent yet), and I know there will be other difficulties and challenges to surmount on the road ahead. But I've both found personally and also believe that where there is struggle, there is also potential for huge growth of character through deepening of reliance on God. It's good to be out of my comfort zone; that's where my strength ends, and His shines all the more brightly. His power is perfected in my weakness, so that when I venture to (or am thrust into!) areas in which I am weaker, it's there I find that I am strong in Him. {2 Corinthians 12:9-10} En fait, it's kind of exciting!

Funds = Raised!

I wanted to officially announce that all of the funds for this trip have been raised, thanks to the generosity of friends and family. A special note to my Rosemount family - your willingness and eagerness to give overwhelmed me. I feel incredibly thankful and blessed to belong to the RBC community.
Praise God for how He works, and thank you each for all of your support, not only financially, but also through words of encouragement, and commitment to prayer.

With love,

Christina