Where He leads...: July 2009

I've added a link to the right side of my blog that will take you to my photos. I'll keep adding them as often as I can. (I had originally put these on Flickr, but decided I much preferred Picasa.)

Click here to view my photos.

Here's the video I promised from the game drive. Enjoy!

We woke up this morning to our fabulous host asking us if we liked pancakes. That’s a rhetorical question in my book! :) Her and her husband proceeded to whip us up a huge stack of made-from-scratch buttermilk pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. It was so incredibly delicious! I had my first glass of milk since I’ve been in Africa. It was actually quite good. So I’m excited to know that my milk-lovin’ self will be satisfied with the milk here in Namibia. After breakfast we went to church with Steve and Pam. It was a great service aside from being a little cold. We took our own blankets, as we were told that some of the members do the same. The view from the church was incredible of the colorful houses and unending mountains. Tomorrow will be another packed day of orientation. So much to learn! It makes me glad I’ll be here for quite some time. I don’t have to feel in a rush to learn everything all at once. For now, I’m just soaking it all in. And while there are great and beautiful things here like pancakes, the mountains, the sweet people, there are a lot of sobering facts about this city and country. I’m sure I’ll be sharing more with you in the days ahead.

Westside Baptist Church

The view from Westside BC with Margaux and Kitty.

I arrived safely in Namibia on Thursday. I have been so anxious to finally land in Windhoek!! The last few weeks have been great and filled with wonderful times of learning about the African culture, getting to know other missionaries with AIM, and just settling into the idea that I’ve moved halfway around the globe.

I flew to Namibia with 11 other people, two families of 5 and another single lady. We landed in Windhoek, right smack in the middle of their winter. Brrrr! Last night it got down below freezing! :( Aside from freezing my tail off, things are off to a great start. On the 25 mile ride from the airport to Windhoek, I was all smiles. We passed a warthog crossing sign (I haven’t seen any yet), and a couple baboons hanging out on the fence by the road. So cool! For the next week or so we’ll have orientation here. At ABO we learned a lot about the culture of East Africa. There are quite a lot of cultural differences between those countries and Namibia here in the South. We’re also learning about the history here, which is so important to understanding the people I will encounter throughout my ministry. We watched a movie last night called “Cry Freedom”, a true story about the apartheid in South Africa. Tonight we will watch “Beat the Drum”, a movie about the effects of AIDS in southern Africa.

For now, Margaux and I are staying with a missionary couple, a pediatrician and his wife. We’ll be here throughout orientation and then Margaux will head up with her team to Rundu (about 500 miles north of here) and I will move into my “permanent” living situation. I will share more details about that soon.

Yesterday we took a brief tour around some of the historic sites in the city. Namely, the Parliament building, the State House, and Heroes’ Acre, a national monument to honor heroes who died in the struggles for independence. On the way back to Mick’s house, we drove through Katatura, a former black township. It was a very sobering drive. Family of Hope Services, where I will be working, is in this part of town. I look forward to working in that area as my heart definitely broke instantly for the people there. Apparently, two-thirds of the population in Windhoek lives in Katutura.

This morning Mick took us to the store to buy converters and cell phones. I have enjoyed not having a cell phone, but it will be important to have one here to communicate with the other missionaries, for emergencies, and so on. We went to one of the malls here. It was an incredible mall with every store you could imagine, the local gym, and even a fudge shop. One strange thing about such a nice mall was that we still froze as we walked through it on this winter day. Most of it has some type of roof, but it's not completely closed off from the elements. The rest of the day was spent covering the topic of HIV/AIDS. As I’ve stated before, at least 20% of the population here have the disease. We had the opportunity to meet a lady here who is HIV-positive and has lost her husband and one of her babies to AIDS. It was good to hear her story as we must remember that AIDS is not a bunch of numbers and statistics, it is over 35 million men, women, and children living daily with the disease. It could be so easy to be overwhelmed by the needs here. I just trust that God will lead me one day at a time, one person at a time. Thank you for your prayers. Keep ‘em coming!

Finally landing in Windhoek after all the months and months of praying and planning!

The beautiful mountains of Windhoek. You can see them all around the city from nearly everywhere. I still miss the Smokies, but it's wonderful seeing them here.

Looking out on the Parliament greens towards a beautiful church here.

I loved this sign, although we didn't see any baboons while we were walking around.

After climbing up all the stairs at Heroes' Acre. It was a fabulous view, but so cold and windy!

The fudge shop at the mall. YUM!!

Driving through Katutura. It is such a large area as you can see in the next photo. It just keeps going and going.

Sunday was our final day of ministry assignments in Machakos. I was able to go back to the hospital. Mark (not Amach, as I called him last time!) and Gideon accompanied a few of us once again and also a student named Miriam. Like last time, The morning started out at the hospital chapel with some singing and teaching from God’s Word. It was a blessing to see Pastor Shadrach again. He was a veterinarian in his prime, and he has been a chaplain at the hospital now for 10 years. He was born in 1919, so he is 89 or 90 depending on when his birthday is! It is such an encouragement seeing people like him still serving the Lord. So many people make excuses for not serving God on a regular basis (or at all). At 90 years old, I’m sure the excuses would be many, but he is still going strong and I consider myself blessed to have met him!

The students from the other Bible college had been released for the summer, so there were just a handful of us. We split up into four groups of two people each, with my group the only one with three people. I went with Mark again and Cynthia, another missionary from ABO. The three of us took turns encouraging and praying for the patients. We went to Wards 3 and 4. Both wards were for patients who had been in an accident and/or were recovering from surgery. Each of the wards had a mix of men, women, and children of all ages. There were see-through partitions to separate the genders and age groups. The first ward we went to had several beds full of children. Most of them were all smiles when they saw us. As soon as I opened my mouth to speak, they burst out in laughter—which is often the case. I’m sure I sound funny to them, even though my Southern accent is often toned way down so they can understand me better. The next ward had more children, a couple very small children who were being treated for terrible burns on their arms and bodies. I assume it was their mothers who were sitting in bed with them.

Out of everyone I met, there was one lady who made the biggest impression on me. After praying with and saying goodbye to the little children I just mentioned, we walked around the partition to the next set of beds. There was a young woman with a blue jacket on and her hood up around her head. While many patients often smiled back or waved as we greeted them, she barely acknowledged us. I let Mark greet her first as I could tell this was not one of her best days. I didn’t want to be a bother to her. She wasn’t really making eye contact, but it looked as if her eyes were already wet with tears. As Mark and Cynthia began praying with her, I noticed the tears began to stream down her face. After the prayer, Mark motioned for me to share some words of encouragement. Honestly, I had no idea what to say. I had been thumbing through my Bible to find the perfect words to share with her. Not finding them, I just started talking with her. Her name was Sarah. She was tired and she was sad. Her mother Elizabeth is a single parent struggling to get by. Sarah has brothers but no sisters (in Africa, the women do most of the labor, so not having many daughters can put a load on a single daughter). Sarah has two children, Elizabeth and Vincent. She did not mention a husband and I didn’t ask. Tears continued to fall as she spoke of the hardship her family is facing because of a lack of finances. The doctor would come to visit Sarah the next day to see if she can be discharged, but Sarah fears they will not have enough money to pay the bill. A regular stay at the hospital is 150 shillings per day in addition to whatever testing is required. That is only about $2 US dollars, but in a country where the per capita income is $786, every extra expense can put a huge strain on a family already scraping to get by. Even before I introduced myself to Sarah, I was already fighting back the tears. It is hard for me not to cry when I see other people hurting. My words were squeaking out, and my prayer was much the same.

I continued to talk to her for some time and before I left, I asked if I could hug her. She said yes and we hugged. I didn’t rush it and could still feel her crying in my arms. My heart was completely broken for this woman. When I asked her, she said that she was a Christian, but it was obvious that it is hard for her to stay strong in the Lord when life is so difficult for her and her family. We visited a few more patients and then it was time to leave. I could not stop thinking about Sarah and wishing I could do more for her. I hadn’t brought much money with me, so I didn’t feel it would be very useful to give her the 100 or so shillings I had. I know I cannot financially help everyone I meet who has a need, but maybe God was telling me to help this one. I talked to several of my friends about Sarah and my heart for her and Jill wisely said, “God is not going to call you to help everyone you meet.” I certainly wish I could help everyone I meet, but I appreciated what she said. While I can’t give money to all people who have need, there will be moments when God may ask me to give time and money to encourage someone. Over the next 24 hours, Sarah continued to be on my heart. I made plans with Jill to go back to town and visit her once again in the hospital. I wanted to give her some money to help with her hospital bill. I decided to by a Bible at the store to put the money in. Jill and I underlined some verses we hoped would encourage her.

We walked into her ward, not positive she would even still be there. Thankfully, she was. I saw her sitting on the bed and she gave a big smile when she saw me. What a beautiful smile! I told her how much it warmed my heart to see her smiling!! I let her know that she had been on my mind and I just wanted to come for one more visit. I gave her the Bible and told her I’d like to pray with her again. I asked if there was anything new I could pray with her about and she mentioned that her mom should have already been to the hospital by now. She wanted to pray that she’d arrive safely. Jill remarked that it could have quite been a God thing that her mother was late, otherwise Sarah would have already been discharged and gone. We visited a while longer, she asked for my number (which I don’t have), I gave her my email, and we hugged her and left. It was clear in my heart that I did exactly what I was supposed to do. I am so thankful for the opportunity to have met Sarah and hopefully encourage her during a difficult time. God is so good and I hope I continue to listen when He calls me to go above and beyond to serve Him by loving others.

We had been looking forward to last night for several days. The scheduled event was entitled “Celebration Supper”. Indeed it was! We all had the opportunity to collaborate on the menu, and just thinking about the possibilities made our mouths water. Again, let me state that ABO food has been more than tolerable, but a bit repetitive (peanut butter & jelly sandwich every morning for breakfast, rice, beans, and more rice and beans). There has been little along the serving line that you might actually find at a Baptist potluck buffet of comfort foods. Needless to say, the thought of cheeseburgers, macaroni and cheese, brownies and cobbler had us counting down the days!

It is so interesting living in Africa and learning how to improvise. I’ve already adopted a new acronym—TIA—“This is Africa”. Hamburgers are not a staple food, so hamburger buns in most places are non-existent. Several from our group made the buns from scratch. They were tiny, but oh so perfect! Baked potatoes were a favored menu item. Sour cream is another non-existent grocery store item. Thankfully, some of the crew knew how to make a cream from scratch that did the trick. And then came dessert…

I knew that our leader had some cake mixes. She also had some icing left from a birthday celebration. All I needed was a good recipe for melting chocolate and I was on my way to introducing my friends to the world of CAKE BALLS! Several times in my brainstorming, I feared I would have to abandon my quest. Certain important elements were missing, like a microwave (or even a double broiler) and decent baking chocolate. Jenny (also familiar with cake balls) and I decided that we would still give it our best shot and dove in headfirst. I would have loved to make funfetti balls, but making a white chocolate dipping mix was definitely out of the question. We opted instead to use a chocolate cake mix and a cherry chip cake mix for two batches of cake balls, both coated with milk chocolate. At first, everything seemed to be going our way. We got the cakes baked barely before the kitchen closed Saturday evening, and aside from me forcing myself to ignore the fact that the vegetable oil in Africa has floating bits of who knows what in it, all went well. Since we only had half a tub of icing left over from the birthday celebration, we mixed up another cup or so of icing using someone’s from-scratch recipe. Icing sugar (powdered sugar to us American folks), butter, milk, and vanilla. Short aside: some of the milk here doesn’t get refrigerated until after it’s opened. The one we used last night has an unopened expiration date of sometime in 2010. That is really disturbing.

After we got back from the hospital visitation Sunday morning, we immediately began mixing the baked cakes with the icing. We rolled them into balls and headed for the kitchen to try our hands at melting the chocolate for dipping. Instead of a double-broiler, we found two camping pots and stacked one on top of another. For our chocolate, we had several Cadbury milk chocolate bars (think Hershey bars). I already knew that it would take a miracle for this to work, but we were hoping (and praying) for the best! Unfortunately our fears were realized when the chocolate would melt only to quickly harden again. No amount of shortening (which was more what we use as butter in the States) would stop this from happening. Finally, we decided to work with what we had. There would be no carefree dipping of the cake balls. Instead, we had to mold the chocolate around each ball, one by messy one. I think it can go without saying that these were the ugliest cake balls I have ever seen or made. We soon realized that the chocolate was not going to harden like we wanted, so we rotated them in and out of onion-smelling refrigerator—crossing our fingers that the cake balls wouldn’t come out tasting like onions! I was already beyond frustration and simply praying that the things would just be edible! There had been a huge hype around the dorms about these “cake balls” that no one had ever heard of. Jenny and I knew we were lucky in the fact that since no one had ever heard of them, they wouldn’t realize that they were the most pathetic cake balls on the face of this earth. In the end, they were edible and quite tasty, but unfortunately they were still a far cry away from the tiny bits of heaven that I am used to eating back home! People were very complimentary and I believe they sincerely enjoyed them, however, I did mention to most of them that I hope one day they can taste a true, unadulterated, cake ball.

Jenny & I are so happy for the upcoming feast!

Top left: Preparing the burgers and chicken. It was like being back at home, enjoying the savory smells from grill! Top right: The finished burgers with cheese and guacamole. Bottom left: Macaroni & cheese and corn on the cob. It was Kenyan corn on the cob, so not quite like home. And nothing beats my Mamaw's mac 'n' cheese, but this was still a yummy treat. Bottom right: Our homemade hamburger buns and the fixin's. YUM!

Our fabulous table decorations. The children made the paper cut-outs, Jenny and setup crew picked the flowers, and Fanta bottles were used as candle holders.

My plate complete with mac 'n' cheese, bacon cheeseburger, baked potato with "sour cream", grilled veggies, and fruit salad.

Jenny and I proudly (or not so proudly) showing off our final product!

Each Sunday during ABO, we go out in teams for a ministry assignment. As I shared, last Sunday we went with a group to a local hospital. This past Sunday, I went with three other missionaries and three Scott students to a nearby high school. There are dozens of high schools in Machakos. This particular high school is for students who have been expelled from other schools. Most of the students are male, but we saw a handful of girls as well. Like most high schoolers, they can be rowdy, but these students also appreciate and enjoy visitors.

On Sunday mornings throughout Kenya you will find many high schools engaged in a Christian service. What I find interesting about these services is that many are led by the students themselves. In youth services I have been to in the States, youth may play a role, but it’s obvious that there is at least one adult running the service. At this school, probably due to it being an alternative school, the Scott students led the service (music, order of service, and so on). As is often the case of missionaries in many parts of Africa, we are also expected to play a role in the service. We had been asked to bring words of encouragement and the sermon. So all four of us needed to be ready to introduce ourselves and share a few words to challenge and encourage the students using Scripture and our own life experiences, and one of us needed to have a 20-minute or so sermon prepared. Heidi volunteered to preach and spoke of Jesus healing the disabled man in Luke 6:6-11, while Mark, Jenny, and myself spoke briefly on casting off sin and trusting in God using Hebrews 12:1, Isaiah 7:9b, and Proverbs 3:1-6 respectively. Thankfully, the students seemed to understand English well enough. Even the Scott students spoke to them mostly in English. There was also one student who came up front and read from Hosea, challenging the students not to fall into the sin of this world. I thank God for the testimony of this young man, especially in a school that was not founded on Christian principles.

I sat in the small room turned into a chapel—observing the dirt and mold in the corners, the dust everywhere, the unsteady pews—wishing each of you could see the bare minimum that is the basic standard for most sites in Africa. I wish I could take pictures of everything I see and everywhere I go and share them with you. There will be many times I probably could take photos but will choose not to. One reason for this is so locals don’t view me just as an American who comes obtrusively into their community, shoving my camera in everyone’s face. I want people in these communities to know that I care more about them and getting to know them than I do about simply taking pictures of them. Certainly I will document as much as I can with both words and photos. And I hope that when there are no photos, you can still journey with me throughout Africa. It is my prayer that, if you desire, you will see what I see, smell what I smell, hear what I hear, and that your heart will break as mine breaks. That we will all be driven to our knees to pray and intercede for these beautiful men, women, and children who desperately need the love and hope of Christ.

Outside front gate of school

Friday was our free day. One of the options for us was to go on a game drive. Over 20 of us piled into two vehicles and headed to the reserve. We drove into the gate and slowly followed a guide for about 10 minutes before arriving at Acacia, the “resort” and restaurant. Along the way we spotted zebras, wildebeests, and other common species found on the African plains. When we arrived at Acacia, we were greeted first by three happy dogs. These were the first dogs with wagging tails I had seen in Africa. We walked around the resort for a while before lunch was ready. I call it a resort because it was obvious that the owners designed it to be a homely place where guests can relax and unwind. There were about ten private huts. Inside each hut were two beds with mosquito nets and a private bathroom. To me, these quaint huts were cute and what I would expect and enjoy as a simple vacation spot on an island or similar destination. Around the resort were pavilions, lounge chairs, picnic tables, and such. There were many plants and two small ponds. I knew instantly that this excursion was a good break for me from our normal ABO schedule.

We gathered for lunch and enjoyed a delicious feast. We had salad (rare in Africa), potatoes, baked fish, spinach quiche, and “spaghetti”. I have decided to adopt the Acacia recipe for spaghetti. Each of us went to the chef who stood behind his sizzling skillet. After olive oil was poured into the skillet, we told the chef which of the many ingredients we wanted to add—garlic, garden tomatoes, sun-dried tomatoes, onions, peppers... After mixing all of this yummy goodness together, the chef added cooked noodles to the skillet. Meat sauce was then added and within seconds it was on my plate and ready to be enjoyed. It was the best spaghetti I’d ever had! For dessert we had pineapple upside-down cake with ice cream.

After lunch we lounged around for about an hour waiting until the proper time “when the animals would be out”. Finally, we climbed back into (and on top of) the vehicles and set off to see some wildlife! We drove for quite a while (it’s a HUGE reserve) and finally came upon some giraffes. It was like being inside a Where’s Waldo book. At first you don’t really see any giraffes and then all of a sudden you spot another one, and another one, and another one… Some of them stood staring at us while the others went about their grazing. We were the second vehicle in the caravan, so sometimes the one in front of us had already scattered the herds beyond a good camera distance. Nonetheless it was a fun outing and neat to see animals “in the wild” that I’ve only ever seen in a zoo. I do hope and plan on going on a real safari at some point while I’m in Africa. A real safari… as in you don’t get out of the vehicle because a lion might eat you. This reserve didn’t have any of the “Big Five”—lion, leopard, elephant, rhino, or buffalo. Apparently, the highlight for many of my friends was me running with the zebras. Had I known the video was going to be such a big hit, I would have ran even faster! I’ll try to post the video soon on here or on YouTube. As we were leaving the reserve, they asked me to chase an ostrich. Of course I obliged. Ostriches are FAST! And after a few seconds of chasing him I remembered and started wondering about where the wildebeest was that I saw as I first started chasing the ostrich. That would not be an exciting encounter. Some interesting facts about ostriches: They can run up to 45 miles an hour. They can make good pets and better “guards” than a dog. They can live 30 years in the wild and up to 70 years in captivity. :)

My new and fabulous friend Jenny. We get along great and enjoy watching Cold Case episodes together after dinner each night. :)

Playing around in one of the old cars they had on display at Acacia.

One of several giraffes we saw. This one was near the gate as we were exiting. The setting sun was working against a decent picture, but still a wonderful sight to behold.

Running with the zebras!... or at them, however you wish to define it. There is a video of this and I will definitely share it when I can.

SO ADORABLE!

I took this while riding on top of the second vehicle.

Yesterday we joined with some of the Scott students and spread out among the town to participate in various ministries. Some participated in church services, some went to high schools, and others to hospitals. I was in the hospital group. Catherine, Margaux, and myself joined 3 Scott students (Amach, Elizabeth, & Gideon) and headed to Machakos General Hospital. It was about a 45-minute walk from campus. I told Amach how Elizabeth had mentioned that the hospital was “just a short walk” from campus. I remarked that to Americans, a short walk would be maybe a 5-minute walk! I didn’t mind the extra 40 minutes. I’m enjoying walking and any other exercise I can get, especially when the weather is pleasant. It was a little chilly but definitely tolerable. The hospital was not one big building as in the U.S., but was more a campus of buildings joined together by walkways and such. We headed for the back of campus towards the small chapel. As we approached we could hear singing. There was a handful of other students and two chaplains already worshiping God. These other students were from a nearby Bible college. They regularly join the Scott students for this ministry. Before making their rounds visiting the patients, they have a mini-service with singing and some preaching from the Word. Some of the tunes I recognized, others were easy to pick up, while the rest were in Swahili and I just listened and praised God in my heart. The message was on Romans 12—our bodies and service to God being offered as living sacrifices.

We split up into 5 teams. I headed towards Amach since I had gotten to know him on our walk to the hospital. He was soft spoken but passionate about his calling. He is 7th in his family of 12 children. All are Christians—his father receiving Christ just last year. Amach got saved in 2000 and God put the desire in his heart for Christian education. Through faith he set out to raise funds for college. Support raising for him was similar to that in the States—writing letters, inviting people (especially important/wealthy people) to hear what he set out to do in hopes they will contribute.

Our team included myself, Amach, and a Bible college student named Esther. Each group was divided among most of the wards. We were assigned to the eye ward and Ward 1. The hospital is rather all-inclusive. It has about 13 wards including wards for accidents, pediatrics, HIV/AIDS, tuberculosis, malaria, psychiatric, maternity, OBGYN, and so on. The eye ward was obviously for patients suffering from eye injuries or diseases. Ward 1 was for male patients who had been in an accident or were awaiting (and probably also recovering from) surgery. As we were walking towards these wards I prayed to myself that God would strengthen me for what I was about to experience. I obviously had never been to an African hospital and I didn’t know quite what to expect. I suppose I assumed it would be a bit more intense than what I was used to during casual visits to American hospitals. The two wards I visited actually were not that… how should I say… dramatically intense? Yes, we found people suffering from quite painful injuries, but nothing exceptionally different from anything I’d seen in the States. I believe Margaux saw one of the most difficult sights in the ward for female accident patients. This woman was orphaned as a child. Now an adult she had a baby of her own. The woman had serious burns that put her in the hospital months ago. After operations she got a bad infection that led to an amputation. Back in the hospital, she has no family and virtually no funds. Eventually the hospital will have to “take her home” (she doesn’t really have one). As Margaux was leaving her bedside, the Scott student remarked, “She and her baby will die.” Margaux wrestled with how to encourage someone like that. Only through Christ can we offer any hope at all.

We met several people (mostly men) during our rounds. Amach usually greeted them first by telling them we were there to encourage them. Then we took turns encouraging them with our words and finally a prayer. Amach did a great job leading the time, and called on Esther and myself equally throughout to make sure that we participated. Esther could speak the local language, which helped in communication. Sometimes Amach would begin talking to the patient in Swahili, but then ask me also to encourage the patient. It was an odd thing to not operate out of confidence that the patient understood what I was saying. It is a change from me wanting to have a bit more knowledge of the situation. I suppose maybe I wanted Amach to say, “they can understand some English” or “they will not understand what you are saying but encourage them anyway”. It was humbling because I wasn’t sure if the patient could understand me, but Esther and Amach could understand me so I felt like a bumbling idiot sometimes. Nonetheless, I did enjoy the time and I hope that we were encouragement to the patients through the love of Christ. Three times I heard Amach or Esther praying with a patient and the patient would repeat the same words out loud. I assumed correctly that they were reciting the sinner’s prayer. First it was a shy little boy. Was he reciting it to appease the authority figures in front of him? After we left he was giggling to his mom who had come back in from outside. The second time it was a young man named Joseph. He told us that he had accepted Christ years before but had backslidden. The third young man was named Francis and he prayed to receive Christ for the first time. I praise God for the work He is doing through the students ministering in the hospital on a regular basis. It is a government hospital and Amach remarked that sometimes they have been faced with opposition from certain nurses who would not let them come inside the ward. He said that God has blessed them lately though by giving them favor in the eyes of the nurses. One nurse greeted us kindly and wanted to know where we were from and where I was going to serve.

I was most impressed by Amach’s knowledge of the Bible. He shared 2-3 passages of Scripture with each patient. He would instantly thumb through his Bible to find verses of hope, verses urging us not to worry, verses speaking of God’s sovereign care. It challenged me to know my Bible well and to be able to quickly pinpoint Scripture needed for any situation. As Christians we need to be ready to share God’s truths with those we wish to encourage. Knowing one or two verses is not enough. We should intimately know God’s Word and where to locate Scriptures of encouragement. As you continue to pray for my time in Africa, pray that my time in God’s Word will be rich and fruitful for my ministry here and always.

Signs at entrance of Machakos General Hospital.

This gives you an idea of the walkways from building to building on the "hospital campus".

We had a tuktuk bring us back to campus. This is basically a motorbike with two wheels on back with a contraption built around it to transport up to 4-5 people (very cramped and quite a bumpy ride!)

Yesterday most of us went on a hike up Mt. Ilveti. Unlike a hike in the Smokies, where you are mostly under the shade of trees away from civilization, we were trekking past small homes, businesses, “farms“, and schools. So why do I title this entry “The Hike of a Lifetime”? Was it a life-changing time of spiritual awakening? No. Was it one of my greatest physical achievements? No. The reason for the title is because of the people we encountered along the way. Never in my life have I had such an unusual--and precious!--hiking experience. It started as a normal trek along a dirt road. We had hiked up a good ways when we came to a school. Before long we began hearing children’s voices, seemingly coming from every direction. The next thing we knew, children were running out of their classrooms, talking wildly to each other, and mostly just laughing--very loudly--at us. We laughed along with them. One of the teachers came out and invited us into his classroom, ushering the 8th graders back in with him. We took turns introducing ourselves, and the teacher had a few students stand up to tell us their names and what they wanted to be when they grew up. “Doctor!” “Lawyer!” “Nurse!” I had only seen photographs of African classrooms, and this was much what I had pictured. It still seemed surreal to see it firsthand and I probably had a smile on my face the entire time.

As we came back out of the classroom, other children (not in school) began to gather around us. Several of us began trying to snap some pictures of them without being too obtrusive. We quickly learned, however, that most of the children loved having their picture taken. They especially loved seeing the digital image pop up on the screen afterwards and would crowd around us as we showed them off. They would laugh and poke and point at each other when they saw someone on the screen. We continued up the mountain and children were constantly joining us from each home and hillside we passed. Before long we had at least 50 children trekking up the mountain with us. It was incredible. I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. Thus, it truly was the hike of a lifetime! The children would run passed us, many of them barefoot, up the steep crossings, jumping from rock to rock, climbing trees, chasing cows, and whatever other mini-adventures they could find along the way. All the while they were in awe of us, our cameras, our voices, and our laughter. Some would imitate sounds we would make. We encouraged them to sing songs with us as we hiked. It was a beautiful sound! I just hummed along since I don’t speak Swahili. Many of the children were 4 or 5 years old and didn’t yet speak much English. Most of the older children spoke at least broken English and would say a few things to us here and there. I asked one little boy named Brian what he learns about in church and he told me about Moses parting the Red Sea. I asked what he’s learned about Jesus and he spoke of Jesus healing the sick, walking on water, and dying for us so that we may live with Him in Heaven one day. I thank God for the Gospel being present on that mountainside and I pray that more and more children will grow up hearing and believing in God’s Word.

Once we finally reached the top of the mountain, at least 2.5 hours later, we came to a market-type area. To me it looked like a colorful ghost-town you would picture out West. There were some people around, mostly older men… and of course the 50+ children that reached the peak with us. There were some little shops to buy sodas and bubble gum. Again, looking around everything seemed so surreal. I had simply expected a hike to a typical mountaintop with a panoramic view. Never would I have imagined all the smiling children and the colorful and mysterious buildings. We stayed up top for some time, took more pictures of and with the children, talked to some of the local adults, and began our trek back down another part of the mountain. By this time the children were even more friendly with us. Many would reach out to hold our hand, and shortly after beginning the descent down the mountain I stopped taking pictures as I had a precious little girl on my right and an adorable little boy on my left. Coming down a dusty mountain holding hands with little ones is no easy task, but by God’s grace none of the three of us did more than gently stumble from time to time. When we were about 20 or 30 minutes from campus, the last of the children waved goodbye and headed back toward their homes. Hopefully they made it back before dark. We barely did, and were greeted by a warm plate of food that we all inhaled graciously. :)

Prior to my arrival at ABO I had been given a couple warnings.

#1: The schedule is intense.

TRUE. Breakfast is at 7:30am. Our first session begins shortly after that and we’re in learning mode for the majority of the day until around 4:30 or 5pm. I must admit, however, that the schedule here is better than a typical workday. At work in the states you don’t have morning and afternoon tea times. Around 10:30am and 4:30pm we have tea time consisting of a snack, coffee, and chai tea. The snacks have been things such as fried pockets of meat and veggies called samosas, pancakes, muffins, and mandazis which best resemble a mix between semi-sweet donuts and beignets. All have been delicious and very appreciated. We have lunch around 12:30 and reconvene for sessions around 2pm. Dinner is around 6:30pm, so depending how I’m feeling throughout the day, I will use the extra time before and after meals to read, visit with others, or nap. The sessions are very informative covering topics such as African culture and worldview, security issues, spiritual warfare, HIV/AIDS, and so on. While I know I won’t remember everything, they are great reminders for cross-cultural ministry and I hope that when certain situations arise, I will remember the training from my time here.

#2: ABO food is not good.

FALSE. I have really enjoyed the food at ABO. All of it has been more than manageable. The portion sizes are smaller than I’m used to, which means that they are probably appropriate portion sizes for meals. Breakfast would be the only exception, typically offering only crumbly bread with either peanut butter, honey, or jam. Sometimes they’ll serve hardboiled eggs or sausage. I had the sausage once. Once was enough. I am a bit picky when it comes to eating meat. Nonetheless, I’m eating well and there are always a at least a couple items I really enjoy during meal time. Lots of veggies, potatoes, rice, sometimes pasta, and so on. And like I mentioned before, tea time has supplied plenty of tasty treats. We’ve even had ice cream, brownies, and funfetti cake to celebrate a birthday. That was a delight!! Needless to say, I am not starving. I think my body is quite enjoying the menu. The food is fresh with plenty of vegetables. Rarely will they serve anything fried or super fatty. It is a refreshing change from what we often eat back home, although there are definitely items I would begin to crave if I started thinking about them too much.

The dorms we are staying in. I'm sleeping on a top bunk in a room with two other gals.

Acacia trees are everywhere with their crazy big thorns!

Anyone who knows me well knows how much I love milk! Back home I drink milk with nearly everything! Pizza and milk = the BEST combo! I haven’t had the milk here and in Namibia maybe it will be similar to milk in East Tennessee. All I know is that because I drink milk so often in the States, I know what I want it to taste like and anything besides that is probably not going to work for me. I don’t want sweet milk. Definitely no thick or chunky milk. Not a fan of powdered milk. It’s either my milk or none at all. (Granted, I will eat or drink anything in order to be polite towards an African host or similar situation.) Cold milk is not typically offered, but chai tea is often served after meals and at tea time. I love chai tea! I didn’t really know that until moving to Africa. I had tasted something once at Starbucks and there’s a café in Ringgold, GA that serves excellent chai tea lattes, but that was the extent of my chai tea experience. Here in Africa, I’ve had chai tea at least once a day. Oddly enough, it is fulfilling my milk cravings (for those of you who've never had it, chai tea is made with milk instead of water). And I love having a little something sweet immediately after my meal and a small cup of chai tea does the trick quite nicely. It saves me from needing to keep a chocolate or candy stash in my room! I must admit I add more than one spoonful of sugar, but the sugar here mostly settles at the bottom of the cup so I don’t feel so bad about that. I am not sure how popular chai tea is in Namibia since there is less of a British influence there, so for now I will simply enjoy this scrumptious indulgence.

A cup of delicious chai tea with mendazzis.

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