Update #8

Sunday, August 17th

7am: It's chilly this morning.  And how different to see all the ladies
wearing skirts. We certainly don't see that much back home.  The last
time I wore this Costco special was several years ago, but it suits
this occasion perfectly, reaching  below the calf with black and beige
African design. Marshan is decked out in his beige African garb. The
ladies in the kitchen grab for Pat's skirt, feeling the soft texture and
saying that now "she looks like one of them".   All areas of the meeting
hall are filled with activity...Cristin, Danielle and Jill working on
their testimonies (Cindy will also be presenting hers), Delos working on
his devotion, Marshan and Chris working on their sermons, the Chair
skits polishing timing, Jared strumming his guitar, the trio singing a
capella. I can feel the Holy Spirit all around me....these people are
going to be so blessed today.

Breakfast: egg, green pepper and tomato fritattas, wonderfully ripe
papaya, taro root, buttered bread, tea, coffee and hot cocoa. Where is all
that delicious famous Kenyan coffee? There is a little jar of instant
freeze-dried on the table.

Marshan mentions that after church we have two whole hours to rest and
recoup. Ahhhh. Rest! 2 hours! Wow!

30 minutes later, Jared re-enters with the announcement that we need to
pack everything we need til nighttime...now. We will not be coming back at
all. Cindy and I look at each other, smile, toss our arms aside with a
"whatever" gesture. We are used to it now. No problem. We are in
Kenya...it's all good! We chuckle together. This is so awesome!

Yesterday, the sun came out brightly for a short period.  The days have
been so beautiful and mild that I have barely noticed the slightly
overcast skies, though the Dam crew sure has been grateful for that gift.
The one downpour we had took place overnight and served to pack the
powdery dust well. When the sun did make its full appearance yesterday
afternoon, it was searing! Everyone commented on its strength during the
serving of the children. It was about 97 degrees in the shade (it
really does not feel that way with the constant breezes)   but when the sun
peered out I felt like I was an egg in a frying pan. And just imagine,
this is winter here...the small children are bundled in sweaters and
fully hooded ski caps. How powerful that equatorial (is there such a
word?...of the equator?) sun must be during their summer solstice.

The walk to the van finds even cooler air and a light drizzle. Dang! A
fast sprint to the house in dress and flip flops to grab a warm hooded
sweat shirt means I must by default ride not in one of the two Joseph's
vans, but Pius'. This means certain plowing through deep ravines and
trenches in the road at near-to-full speed, rather than careful
navigation of them, resulting in a good case of thrashing about the van, bonked
heads and at times car-sickness. C'est la vie. Sometimes you have to
draw the short straw. Plus this gives my hubby another great opportunity to
have everyone watch me run and tease me for how dorky I am. Cool.  Glad to help. 

We head to the Raiciine (finally the correct spelling, pronounced
"reh-she-nah") project to off-load ourselves from the vans, regroup, get
back on and head out to the 4 different churches. In my group is Jenn,
Kenny, Chris, Jared, Delos, Laurin, Monica and Cristin and we head to St.
Stephen's Anglican Church. Physically the same 4 clay walls as all
buildings so far, so small that we cannot fit.   We meet Patrick, the
pastor and his vice "I can't remember's" in a suuuper small room for prayer
at 10am and then a processional up the hill to the schoolroom. Patrick
is about 5' 6" tall, skin blacker than black with a huge, wide,
infectious smile. His teeth, some missing, the rest yellowing, do nothing to
detract from the love of the Lord oozing from his every pore. He
literally jumps for joy, his spotless, crisp white robe with big flouncy
sleeves bouncing up and down  as he jumps at the excitement of having us
here. We walk up the hill, with no idea what to expect, and enter a very
large, close to empty schoolroom. There are 5 parishioners present at
best, a long table and small wooden alter, both covered in crisp white
linens.  How do they keep things so clean? Bryton and I can't stay that
clean in Stockton, let alone with swirls of red clay dust surrounding me
wherever I trod. Then again Bryton is 7, so I guess he is off the
hook...I am the one who is a mess!   What follows is prayer and praise and
welcomes galore,  most with joyous hops, skips and jumps from Preacher
Patrick and big smiles and claps from us. Over the course of 3 hours,
one by one, two by two, villagers trickle in until there is SRO and the
"sanctuary" is alive with the beat of the goat skin drum, singing,
clapping, swaying. A cool breeze came through the glassless windows, for
which we were ever-so-grateful post-skit. Delos was welcomed and
introduced so that he may in turn give thanks on behalf of our team, let us
introduce ourselves, do his devotion from James and then bring the team up
for 2 songs of praise: This Little Light of Mine and This is the Day that the
Lord has Made, pronounced: Dis is Da Day Dat
Da Lord Has Made. This is followed by Cristin's testimony which brought
her and a few others including myself to tears. The Kenyans never let
their eyes veer from her face. Next Chris was up.  He gave an
impassioned sermon on 1Samuel 9 and Romans 8 and the parable of David and
Mephibosheth , falling to his knees and bowing to illustrate his point.
Following this, our skit was well-met, Praise God. It's always such a blessing
when we see their faces lit, hear the cheers and clapping. For most of
it, they stand staring with such serious expressions that one wonders
what they are thinking, or are they getting it at all. Jared played his
guitar and sang solo so beautifully. At some point, Marshan and John
walked in and joined our service. Preacher Patrick directed his attention
to Delos and said something no one quite understood. So Delos got up,
grabbed his hand and said, "I am sorry. I do not understand. What do
you want from me?" Patrick kept saying yes, yes! YES!!! and jumping up
and down like a little jack rabbit, so Delos did the same thing, starting
to speak in Spanish. "Yes! Si! Si! Yes!". Everybody was howling with laughter.
Patrick said "Greet! Greet!" with his tremendous smile. I am not at all sure
how we got ourselves out of that one, but someone figured out that he
wanted Marshan and John at the back with his camera, introduced! And so
it was done and when everyone settled down, an offering was taken. The
plates filled with small change, eggs and a bill or two. The eggs were
then auctioned off and the money put into the offeratory plate. As I
understand it, other church services taking place at the very same time
had offerings of avocado, papaya, and even a live chicken that sat and
watched for the duration of the ceremony. Our time at St. Stephen's
Anglican church ended with communion done in a most interesting fashion.
Patrick poured about 4 or 6 ounces of screw-top something into a large
thick glass and set it near a small bowl of round thin wafers.  After
song and prayer, we were the first to partake. Chris whispered to not
really drink, but rather pretend, probably for health reasons. They came
by and washed all of our hands with the untreated, unhealthy water, and
then we were to stand, place our right hand over our left and then hold
it out for Patrick to place a wine-soaked wafer into. No drinking
required. for anyone.... Other than  Chris.  We bent our heads down to our
hands and with the tongue, lapped up and consumed the wafer. When all
had a wafer, Patrick drank 1/2 the wine in one swig and put the rest in
front of Chris to follow suit. Alrighty then.   More prayer and we lead
the processional outdoors. We all stood for photos and then loaded
into the van to tackle the rest of our day.  What a start that was to it!

Lunch: same stuff, plus a phenomenal new dish with garbanzo beans or
hominy or (so they said) corn in it. Everyone says I was hallucinating
and I am quite sure I was, as there has not been one pig or piglet among
all the animals blocking our way, but I could have sworn there were
bacon bits in it!  Wild turkeys scattered on the road for us today, but
truly no pigs.

Saddle up! We're off to the crusade!

There is talk, en route, of large animals (cats) and how they behave
around humans. If a lion is not wounded, or feeling threatened, one may
walk right past them. They do not attack humans 98% of the time. If one
does, however, it must be put down, as once it gets a taste of humans,
it wants more. We have seen no cats, no snakes.  I was however very
saddened to learn today that 2 sponsored Compassion children were killed
by crocodiles this year while getting water from the river. Can you
believe the blessing that Quail is providing in creating this dam alone?
Not only is it offering safety from crocodile attacks, but typically the
rainy season is for 2 months, 2 times a year. This dam will provide 2
more months twice yearly, doubling their capacity  to save and utilize
water. Thank you Quail friends and family! 

We have arrived at our destination. Wow! Stunned silence. Look of
overwhelmed amazement. There is no way to describe this afternoon's crusade.
This is very much what was tucked inside my pea brain prior to
experiencing the last open air crusade. Swarms of people gathering in the town
center. This time...a stage! Granted, it is about 5'x5', rickety
branches perilously tied together with a thin podium proudly covered in 70's
style beige/brown linoleum. The sound system arrives. Toss one speaker
on the tin roof, the other in the dirt. The keyboard and its young
maestros arrived. In moments the music starts, crowds press in and the
first pastor begins his call out to the masses. We stand at the foot of
the stage allowing the short pastor to tower over us and listen intently
to his message in 3 languages.   Shortly it's singing and
dancing...LOTS of dancing. This song is Around Jericho Seven Times" and is triple
the length of the already long other songs. Some of us stand and watch,
some sway and clap, I try to keep up with the Africans.  3 wipies full
of sweat and red clay dirt later I poop out too and gaze across the
crowd to my husband, quite the vision in white among a canvas of black
surrounding him. Jared and I got a great photo of that precious vision.
Up next with no warning...the skit!  I whip on my black veil, struggle
with the broken zipper to the black sweatshirt I must pull over my
sweaty arms , fumble getting the rubber knife into my pocket, and then stand
braced for my cue, thankful to whomever it is crowding me to my right,
steadying me in the heat. Delos and Jenn do such a fabulous job of
playing God and His creation, respectively. Then Jared enters, dark, sly
and tempting as Satan/sin, followed by Cristin's big smile flailing
money about to temp greed. Lauren stumbles in next, pilsner bottle in hand,
literally and figuratively dragging Jenn down with booze. Once
"drunk", Kenny enters for an uncomfortable (purposely) slow dance with Jenn to
draw giggles from the crowd, then slap her down to signify abuse
(quite prevalent here). Soon Monica slinks in, ominously swirling her syringe
in the air, "injecting" Jen's arm with a temporary "fix" for all her
problems.  Cue Satan/suicide, me, to hauntingly follow Delos' (God's)
motions by outlining Jenn's silhouette and motioning her heartbeat and
quickly transitioning to showing her how and encouraging her to commit
suicide via slashing of her wrists. At the climax of the Everything song,
after trembling and close to following through, Jenn tosses the rubber
knife aside, and tries battling her way through to Christ past the
battle line of sins. Finally Christ breaks through, takes on all her sins,
tosses them (us) to the dusty ground as Jenn falls, saved, to her
knees, praising Jesus for all he has done for her. The Lord lifts her from
the ground, dances gently with her for a few steps and then walks arm
in arm off the "stage". Whew. Our last performance. It has been a
blessing.    Next,  Kenny is called to the stage to share his testimony. He
towers above me on the stage, massive in his presence, even without the
stage, and proceeds to give a soulful and powerful testimony on his
walk with the Lord, how the Lord has worked to bring him closer to Him and
how he is working to be remembered for his relationship with Christ,
not "the really tall guy, with muscles".   It was wonderful. More tears
abound. Again, at the mention of abuse, the Africans laugh with discomfort. 
It's quite the issue here. Prayer and speeches from the preachers ensued,
during which the
muffled, yet very loud amplification system died. Of course it would.
John Welsh could tell it was coming. He was about to preach!  He took
the stand and projected to the farthest reaches of the crowd.
Miraculously, the sound system popped back on mid-way during his talk on what it
means to be truly rich. At his finale, he did an alter call, to which I
saw a young lady raise her hand, and her friend, (just as happened at
Bill's alter call earlier in the week) pull it down. One brave man,
however, raised his hand tall and walked to the front.  John asked one of
the preachers to come down and pray with him, but they looked on in
stunned silence, not knowing what to do. Jeff from Compassion jumped in,
wrapped his arms around the young man and prayed with him. I am certain
many many more were saved throughout these crusades of whom we are not
aware, due to the shyness of their culture. Additionally, Jeff has had to
battle rumors that Compassion is comprised of devil worshipers and
once in Compassion, they will no longer see their child. He provides
impassioned advocacy speeches at each of the crusades and speaks of the
parents responsibility to provide this opportunity for their children, who
will come back to HELP the community. More prayer, more dancing. I see
my little Elizabeth from the Compassion project and Mercy, the 16 yo
HIV girl we visited in the audience. I signal for them to come and we
dance together.  Mercy is smiling, dancing and laughing. This alone is a
huge blessing for the girl so filled with doom and no hope.  I can only
pray that our visit, the message and prayer shared and this time
together can have some small impact. It seems as if it has. I dig deep into
my backpack for a family photo and CA postcard to give each of them. It
was as if I had handed them a pouch of gold, they were so appreciative.
Off to the van. I am not certain why the big rush today. I thought we
might dance, do bubbles and bond with the crowd as we did last time,
but I followed along, with a string of children following behind.
Marshan had made a friend. The same friend whose breath was doused with booze
and getting a tad too close to a couple of we females. He stood at
Marshan's closed window for quite some time chattering away, supposedly
"exchanging" contact info, though to those of us looking on, it appeared
to be much more one-sided.  LOL.

Back at the homestead we freshen up (to the best of our ability) and
head to dinner. Much of the
same, but double the amount of pasta as we all plowed through that last
time. At lunch time, many did not bother to get plates. People are
getting a tad fed up with the monotony. I see trail mix, beef jerky,
cheeze-its breaking out all over the place. Jenn reaches over to Monica
offering a bite of a chocolate "Think Thin" bar. You should have seen her eyes
pop out of her head and her jaw drop as she launched for the thing.
Hilarious. Then Marshan made the mistake of breaking out his favorite in
public: gummy bears! We overpowered his only child syndrome and forced
him to share without giving in to his offer of 5 for a dollar.   About
5 or 6 or us dove in, followed by 3 little hands of children. He was
left with a good 20 by the time he was done, poor guy. Boy were they
fresh!

Tomorrow: all go to the dam site. 5 head back right away to do
"cartooning" on an office wall and a few will visit a mom's house who has
literally begged for a visit. Then they will have a going away ceremony for
us. We have put together, through the work of Jared and Marshan, a
"remix" of "This Little Light of Mine" from our culture and "So Deep Deep,
so Down Down" from this culture, blended together with Cindy's sign
language.

Monday, August 18th

The ride in is fun! We spot monkeys in the trees and are armed with
much candy to share with all those along the road. "Oka or kuja=come,
gawa=share, and sweets, sweets, sweets are
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