Computer Issues

Urg. My computer's dead, or at least mortally wounded.

After a month of trying one thing and another and another and another, then being told that it will take another month to get it fixed here, I put my laptop on the plane with a friend in hopes of getting it repaired in the States.

In better news, I have CFS pictures to share once it returns (assuming the data's still intact, which it should be), and perhaps I'll be struck with the sudden urge to blog more once I have a home computer again. And hopefully I'll have spiffy new pictures and stories to tell from my upcoming Habitat for Humanity trip with sophomores somewhere near Mt. Kenya.

So here's hoping the Mac comes back from Memphis miraculously healed...

Marvelous Middle Schoolers

Every once in a while, I have kids write me a note- what's going on in their lives, how things are with family and friends, if there's anything they'd like me pray for. I do this in part because it's a way to help them feel heard; I also do it because they're sweet and insightful and sometimes hilarious.

Here are some good'uns from the last round...
- "Last weekend was awesome: I went repelting and spulunking." (I _love_ repelting! And so do the small animals).
- "Please pray for Naivasha to regrow their lake." (Kids feel the water crisis and the national mismanagement of resources too).
- "Please pray that God would help me to follow Him; it's hard to be a teenager." (She turned 13 two days ago).
- "Things with friends are good, but I think I am not talking to girls but only boys." (Hmmm).

Slackin' in September

If I don't post TONIGHT, that little blog archive at the bottom of the page will only have one entry for this month. Oops.

And really, it's been a phenomenally full September, but nothing's been truly bloggable. It's all been too shallow or too deep- either "went out to dinner again!" or "my soul has been healed in ways you can't possibly understand unless you've known me for at least a decade."

On the other hand, maybe it's that I was sick- finally got an African passenger, probably an amoeba or worm who stole my calories and my sphincter's resolve. But I eventually broke down and took medicine (after using up all my Gatorade and my mom threatening to DHL me some more), and I am doing fine again.

Or maybe it's that I'm too busy- life was getting back to the point it was in the States, where I had something going on every night, something happening each evening, no serious down time. Maybe I'm getting older and my energy's dropping; maybe I've just developed more sense: I don't want to live that way. So, for the first time ever, I quit something, and my schedule and overall health seem to be progressing upward.

Perhaps it's that I've settled in here- things rarely strike me as noteworthy. True, as I was driving yesterday, I had the opportunity to buy a wide variety of goods from folks between the lanes: skirts, paintings, TV antennae, flowers, a puppy, bandannas, pinwheels, peanuts, drugs, a rabbit, some sunglasses. Kind of the usual. So I thought about blogging about it, but it wasn't pressing enough to stay in my mind past the traffic and the police checkpoints and the fact that my ATM card wouldn't work... Life feels normal, though it looks very little like it did in New Mexico.

However, I guess the big news is that I'm staying- Rosslyn offered me another 2 year contract, and I accepted. That puts me here into 2012 at least, with a 2 month furlough in the States this summer. It wasn't a surprising decision; I feel like God brought me here really clearly, and until He leads me somewhere else equally clearly, I'll stay here. But it is still peace-producing to say so publicly.

Life might slow down a little in a few weeks, after CFS and after my quarter-long class ends. Maybe I'll rejoin the thing I quit, or develop a burning desire to blog more. But for tonight I'm off to read Richard Rohr and grade some math tests and pray for rain. Pretty normal.

Rejoicing

So much good news lately- things I've been praying for long term are happening!

A few highlights...

• Brenton, my former colleague here at Rosslyn, got the job he's been working towards for over a year! He and his wife will be able to stay in Kenya long term, use their hospitality gifts, and serve in a really unique environment.
  
• Alan the Red-Haired Guy (ding) has a defense date for the the doctoral thesis he's been working on for the entire 8 years I've known him! And after many closed doors, God has provided a TERRIFIC post-doc that will give him a chance to see if Asia is really where he belongs.
  
• Clara Knutson was born today! I delight in the turn that this journey of years has taken.
  

Count Me (in?)

Kenya's grand tradition of Sudden Public Holidays continues. You might remember Obama Day... Kenya erupted in joy at the election of their own semi-kenyan US President and declared a national day off for everyone.

But this time's reason might not appear to be holiday-worthy at first glance: The Census. Now, I _am_ a math teacher, and I get pretty excited about statistics, but a national holiday? Hm. I'd have picked Pi Day. But no, President Kibaki announced on Sunday that Tuesday would be a public holiday. Wow. A whole day's notice.

See, they want to get an accurate count of absolutely everyone, so they're putting all sort of incentives in place. They wanted the wandering Masaai herdsmen to show up, so they provided free grain and water at a particular border. And they wanted to be able to find all the crazy-living Nairobians, so they closed all the businesses and ordered the police to shut down "all bars and places of entertainment- let's take a break from drinking," said the Census Master.

Speaking of census officials, they gave special shirts to all the people coming around to count and ask questions. See, it's a door-to-door activity, and you wouldn't let just anyone into your house. So they have bright red polo shirts that say ENUMERATOR across the back. I cannot even express how badly I want one of those. =)

And it's a good thing I was home from work today. About 11 AM, Julie the Census Girl came by (sporting a cool red shirt, of course), and asked me questions like "How many people slept here last night?" "Do you have access to the internet?" "How many live children have you given birth to?" "How many still births?" "Do you own a TV?" "Do you own a fridge?" She tried to hide her shock that one, I live alone (Kenyans rarely do), and that two, I own a fridge but not a TV. How bizarre.

When the five-minute questionnaire was complete, she gathered her books, put her shoes back on, and marked my door with the serial number of my census form. I've been counted.

I made good use of the rest of my day off, as you can see from the photo below.

Now I'll take them to my small group meeting and enjoy the conclusion of this unexpected work-free day! Just remember- we might not get Snow Days here, but you probably don't get Census Days.

New (School) Year's Resolutions

I love the seasonality of teacher-life. And living in a mini-village of educators sure accentuates that rhythm. So while normal human beings make resolutions at New Year's, I've sensed a distinct atmosphere of self-improvement around campus these weeks. Everyone's waking up early to run, lift, pray, grade. Well, hopefully not grade yet- the kids haven't arrived. New students get oriented tomorrow, we run a half-day of assemblies on Tuesday, and classes start in earnest on Wednesday. Classrooms are clean, hopes are high, and friendships are fresh.

My starting prayer:
May this school year be a good apple- crisp, nourishing, and flavorful.

The Mara

Last weekend, the 4 of us who had gone to Egypt together headed to the Mara on safari for the boys' birthday. (Yes, in addition to the same first name, they share the same the same birthday. And the same middle name.) It was a great time of reconnecting after a summer apart, hearing people's stories, and playing cards- Wendy and I beat the boys _again_ at Rook.

The Mara is by far my favorite place I've visited on safari. I loved the open sky, the tawny plains, the striking trees.

The birthday boys, with a bonus giraffe
Us girls, with a speckling of migrating wildebeest in the background
Wildebeest who finally got up the nerve to cross the river
God did a great job on East Africa.

Happy Anniversary, Kenya

Two years ago today, I arrived in Kenya. I remember the tearful goodbye with my parents in Chicago, reading the entire 7th Harry Potter book on the way here, and being surprisingly cold when I got off the plane. I remember being exhausted the next day trying to set up my household, and I distinctly recall the frustration of "not feeling like I'm in Africa" within the bubble of the school grounds. Fresh friendships went through their normal fits and starts, as did my involvement in new activities. I was confused, disconnected, and struggling (and probably not a whole lot of fun to be around). I knew God had brought me here clearly, but now that I'd arrived, I wondered about His reasons.

School started, bringing a little routine and predictability, but I hadn't realized what a huge role reputation plays in being a teacher; my students had no idea what to expect from me, so even my job felt shaky. Friends from other seasons of my life came through on visits, and that added a little stability. They suggested I visit Karura Community Chapel, which I'm still grateful for. However, when I joined a small group there, I caught the mumps at the first meeting.

That was the real low of that first semester- housebound, feeling crummy, then feeling fine but still housebound, then feeling much worse and in and out of the hospital. God used it on lots of levels, of course, but the most significant was this: I had written off the Rosslyn community as isolationist expats, but they loved me and cared for me and sacrificed for me when I was sick. I had to recognize their kindness and genuine Christian character; it made me a little more willing to be like these people.

I got to go back to the US for the end of my recovery, and that reaffirmed the truth that I belong in Kenya. "The trouble"- the postelection violence- happened while I was in DC with my parents, and I was anxious to return and be present to my students and the new friends I had made. Karura pulled an IDP camp out of thin air, taking care of hundreds of displaced people and eventually helping them resettle in new homes. God blessed Karura to do that well, and He continues to show favor to us as we care for our neighborhood.

Slowly I adjusted, building relationships with Kenyans through Karura, adapting my teaching to the context of Rosslyn, buying a car, choosing to stay in Africa for the summer. Climbing Kilimanjaro was a HUGE highlight and the accomplishment of a life dream. And by the time my second year started, I was ready to be a host, be a welcomer, be a bridge for the newcomers. God kindly gave me many likeminded friends in that group of new teachers, and I started to settle back into who I know myself to be.

So now it's been 2 years. I've gotten to travel to phenomenal places, and I can honestly say that I like living here. My Swahili is rudimentary at best, and I still struggle with the balance of being called to this expat community and to the much larger country outside of it. But it's good to be challenged to live well, to continually seek God on what He wants your life to look like that day. I take comfort in the idea that it's not a mistake that I'm here, with all my history and personality and quirks and opinions. He's shaping me by this place and using me to shape this place. He's the craftsman, and I am confident in His work.

So happy anniversary, Kenya. I'm glad I'm in this relationship with this place. It's been an eventful and intense few years, and I can't say I'm sad things have leveled out a bit (though it makes for more boring blogging- sorry, readers). I'm looking forward to the adventures the future holds, and I trust the Hand that brought me here.

What does that MEAN?

In an attempt to communicate well with my church back in Los Alamos, I submitted an online prayer request before the medical clinic, asking folks to pray for the day. And when the event went well (which I am able to recognize now that I'm less exhausted), I wrote an update.

So the church sent out my message to hundreds of people, supportive folks that they are. But I had made a rather embarrassing typo... I was trying to say that we had extracted 200 TEETH.

I left off the H.

Karura Medical Clinic

Once a year in July, my church here in Kenya hosts a free medical clinic for folks who live in the surrounding slums. This year I got to serve on the organizing committee, so some of my days post-Europe have been spent in meetings, in prayer, packaging donated medications, and running around doing whatever needs to be done. It's a good use for my seasonal unemployment.

The clinic works like this: we use our contacts to get medical professionals to volunteer for the day- doctors, nurses, medical students, pharmacists. We politely harangue businesses to donate money to buy medications and other supplies. (Boy, I've learned a lot about Kenyan persuasion tactics on this committee...) A local public elementary school lets us use their grounds in exchange for improvements we make each year- recently we hung doors on the classrooms and got electricity installed. We provide transportation for patients to and from the school, and the congregation of Karura Community Chapel provides the hundreds of non-medical volunteers needed to make this event run smoothly.

Why hundreds of volunteers, you ask? Well, we treat a lot of people. Two-thousand-one-hundred-eleven this year, to be exact. Think about that! Over two thousand people came through this little elementary school in a day, talking with nurses, doctors, getting teeth extracted, being evaluated for further care (like cataract surgery or venereal disease followup), and receiving free medication prescribed by the doctors.

The inside of the pharmacy, where most of my preparation work was focused
The outside of the pharmacy, where my friend Scott is helping someone find their way

The line for the pharmacy- believe me, this is a LOT more organized than last year.

The day is overwhelming. Appropriately so, I think. It's intense to see the great need of thousands of people in one place. On the other hand, it's beautiful to witness willing and thoughtful service on the part of this church. Because of my development work training, I have issues with the once-a-year blitz. Is this one day more about feeling like we've done something? Are there more lasting methods? On the other hand, we can get these doctors to volunteer for a day, and there are good things that happen in that day. Christ's love is shown tangibly, and there are some great stories to be told. But we had to turn away at least 30 children who wanted to come in without adults; we won't give them medicine without adult supervision. It's an appropriate decision, but it's heartbreaking to tell these children no. It might not be their fault they don't have a grownup with them. This year we did make arrangements to have a local nurse receive the medication for some of the unaccompanied children, but she could only do it for the ones she knows. Always, the scope is limited. We have a social justice pastor on staff, and the church runs a variety of programs all year long. But are we doing what we're called to? Is it effective?

I could go on and on with the pros and cons, the list of things that are clearly good and the issues I question and am challenged by. Both this year and last year, I've been exhausted afterwards and not quite sure how to process this experience. I don't know if that's what you want from your missionaries- it would be simpler to say, "It was good! Medical Clinic! Go team!" And there's an aspect where that's true: I'm blessed to go to a church that runs this event as a way to reach out to the poor in our area. I know that's important; I know that pleases God.

Maybe my heart just breaks alongside His at the suffering that still remains.

Lazy Days of Summer

It's quiet on Rosslyn campus. The morning joggers have made 7:00 the new 5:00. It's that July cold: wool socks on tile floors, fleece all day long, down comforter on the bed, chai at 10 and 4 for the warmth. A day might be crazy busy with visits, church stuff, errands. Or it could be a vast empty space to be filled with reading, watching movies, napping.

Just like to say, life is pretty pleasant right now.

The Food

All right, the post you've been waiting for... To put it in context, I can get lots of wonderful food here in Nairobi- delicious Indian food, fresh organic produce. What I can't get is good bread, cheese, and chocolate. And that's what central Europe excels at, and it would be a shame to not eat the local food, right? Let's call my post-trip padding "pastry pounds."

I may be in love.
Beth and her mousse
Did I mention I can't get berries here? So the wealth of raspberries, blackberries, cherries, and strawberries were terribly tempting. Especially in a crepe.
Good Bavarian food- pretzel, bratwurst, sauerkraut, mustard. Mmm.
Schnitzel and spatzle- who cares if it looks like little maggots? It tastes good.
Fondue in Switzerland, naturally!

And of course, French Onion Soup in France. It deserves the capital letters.

Traveling "Alone"

I left Eric and April's and continued my train journey west, making a brief stopover at Schaffhausen to see the Rhysfalls. I ate an ice cream bar and enjoyed the rushing water, then hiked back up the hill to the train station. I spent the night at a hostel in Zurich and ended up eating at McDonald's because nothing else was open by the time I got around to wanting to eat. Switzerland is SO expensive- a "value" meal was about $15. Oof. Upon returning to the hostel, I had good conversation with one of the many engineers I met on the trip, and we walked around town and drank hot chocolate by the lake.

The next morning I headed towards Interlaken/Murren/Gimmelwald, the part of the trip I've been most excited about since decided to wander around Central Europe. I even thought ahead and reserved a bed at a hostel. Indeed, it was a beautiful place. That night there was a little rain that evening, but a beautiful rainbow!However, the next morning the fog rolled in. And while I was planning to hike all day long, I soon realized it would be both treacherous and stupid to wander around slippery, unfamiliar landscape with little visibility and sudden dropoffs all over the place. So I sat around aimlessly, having finished all my books. I quickly tired of the typical hostel conversation: "Yeah, I was in that city... I was so drunk that I barely remember..." I wasn't impressed. And it was kind of hard to break into conversations- most people were traveling with others, and you didn't want to interrupt their vacations. All in all, it was an extremely frustrating day. I considered staying in Gimmelwald another night, hoping the weather would clear, but I had researched an English speaking church in Geneva and knew I needed some Christian fellowship. So I hopped on the gondola Saturday morning, the mountains still invisible in the fog.

But God kindly provided for me- I struck up a conversation with 2 Americans who were also heading down the mountain, and it turns out they're Christians and were excited to hear about what I get to do in Kenya and to talk about all sorts of things. It was so good to run into them! God encouraged each of us through that "chance" meeting. We visited a nearby waterfall together, and decided to continue traveling together for part of the day- we got off the train in Bern, ate fondue (not a one-person meal), and saw some of the weird sights of the city, including a fountain of a giant that eats children.

Chris and Becky, my fondue friends (fondue friends forever? FFF?)

I arrived in Geneva in the evening, uncertain of where I would stay that night- the only hostel I knew about was full according to the internet. I went there anyway, hoping for a cancellation, but there was a music festival in town and all their beds were taken. They pointed me down the street to a more institutional hostel- all tile, everything locked with a keycard, but showers and breakfast included. I fell into bed and got the first good night of sleep in a while.

The next day held another "chance" meeting with a Korean woman named Grace, and we explored Geneva, especially its rich and varied statuelife (it's like wildlife, but more, um, solid). I really like this duck-billed dragon.

After a good visit to the Evangelical Baptist Church of Geneva, we visited the Red Cross Museum and the UN headquarters- this is an anti-mine statue. Can you see the missing leg?
And of course in Switzlerland, timekeeping is important enough to make a clock out of flowers.
The rest of the day was spent eating more good food (still trying to run that off...), hanging out at the music festival, and generally enjoying Geneva. I like that city. I wouldn't complain if that were my next international school posting, though it was GOOD to head home to Nairobi over the next day or so.

So there's the trip! Fear not; food post yet to come.

Germany visiting friends

Beth got on a plane back to the US, and I couldn't help but be a little jealous that she would soon be in the land of Target and hamburgers. However, I was starting the next phase of my adventures, so I wasn't too sad. In Munich, Ann-Kristine met me at the train station. She was our family's exchange student when I was in high school, and I hadn't seen her in a dozen years. We were both a bit nervous about spending time together again since it had been so long, but as soon as we saw each other, we knew it would be easy. She said to me, "You look just the same!" Aw. It was great to connect with her, see a bit of her life, and spend some time getting to know each other again.
We headed to Regensburg, where her parents live- a delightful city that escaped the bombing during World War II. So it had lots of old walls and bridges and buildings- this church was visible from her parents' balcony.
We visited several other chapels, and after the more minimalist, Gothic style of Paris, I was kind of overwhelmed by the gold and pink and cherubs.
The Kreusers took great care of me, and it was wonderful to see her Dad again (he had visited while Anna lived with us) and to meet her mom.
They of course fed me all sorts of tasty German food; I have another blog post in mind dedicated entirely to the food I got to eat in Europe.
Anna continued to take me to all sorts of lovely places- a monastery on a hill near the Danube,

a castle in Munich.

It was a treat to spend some time with her and her boyfriend Sergio; I passed the report along to my dad that he's a good guy, but unfortunately I forgot to take pictures of them together.

From Munich I headed up to Ulm, where my college friend Eric and his wife April live. April was a terrific tour guide, and we climbed the tower of the tallest church in the world.
We had a good ol' American time together- ate chili, went to see the Terminator movie (really deep, I tell you), and caught up a bit from the past decade or so. They also took me out for schnitzel, which will show up in the food post, and they helped me get my train tickets into Switzerland. I sure appreciate their hospitality. From there, I and my big blue backpack hopped on the train and began the Wandering Around Switzerland part of the trip.

Paris

This has definitely been a year full of traveling; who knew that choosing to stay in Los Alamos, buying a house, and eventually selling that house would mean that I would get to go to amazing places like Cairo, Paris, Munich, Albuquerque?

The birth of this trip is a fun story- my good friend Beth and I met at Wheaton and maintained our friendship through the angst of our early 20s: Are we doing what we're called to do? Are we really adults? Is this what I should do for the rest of my life? She was beginning her actuarial exams; I was experiencing my first few years of teaching. We would talk on the phone for hours and wrestle through adulthood-formation.

Beth and I are similar in lots of ways- math majors, brown hair, similar sense of humor, involved in youth ministry. But we're pretty far apart on the risk-taking scale. So when I suggested we plan a Big Trip as something to look forward to in the next decade, our definitions were pretty different. My idea of a Big Trip was, "Let's get one of those around-the-world tickets, and just see what happens!" Her idea of a Big Trip was, "Let's go to Disney World!"

Each of us looked at the other and realized, "Your trip will NOT work for me." Eventually, we compromised- what if we went to Disney, but in another country? That would be familiar enough for her to be comfortable, but different enough for me to be interested. Beth agreed that maybe that could work, possibly to get me to drop the subject, and it stayed buried for half a decade.

But then she passed all her actuarial exams (woohoo!), we each turned 30, and I was itching to find out if this would really happen. So after a many emails and skype conversations, we settled on EuroDisney with some sightseeing in Paris.

And we had a wonderful time! Museums, subways, quirky shops- I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Saint Denis- the headless one. He has a lovely tribute in Notre Dame's facade.
Churches in general were kinda bloody- note the realistically pink tinted heads in this scene of massacre on the bottom pane.

Beth and I "collect" science museums and children's museums- it's our corporate hobby, and this was a good one.
Beth drew a lovely picture at one of the interactive exhibits. Or was this at the modern art museum...? We did see a LOT of museums.
An equally realistic creature, though of course not as lovely.
Of course we explored quirky bookstores on the Left Bank.
Maybe I can be a winged messenger for my next summer job.
I discovered I like sculpture, especially marble, and this was an impressive lion.
But after about 400 idealized Greek bodies, I was especially charmed by this skinny, balding man with a nice smile.
Dudes in kilts are good too.
And when we were all museumed out, we headed to Disney. Did I mention that it was freezing and poured 80% of the time? This was a rare dry moment.
When I was a very small child, my parents took us to Disney in Florida, and I was scared out of my mind by the witch in the Snow White ride. (I believe I proceeded to rebuke her in the name of Jesus).
You can still see the terror in my eyes.
But we survived both the witch and the evil Small World ride, and soon returned for a last event in Paris- climbing the Eiffel Tower.

Beth left the next morning for her home in Connecticut, and I headed to Germany for the next phase of my adventure.