See, for one, the Internet that we receive here in Kenya isn’t nearly as reliable as say, Cox Telecommunication Services (a local ISP back home). Actually, to use words like “isn’t nearly as reliable as Cox...” is being way too generous to the Orange Telecomm Company, self proclaimed as Kenya’s premier high-speed Internet provider (to be honest, the only parts of that proclamation that aren’t blatant lies are “Kenya’s” and “internet”). There are myriad causes for the loss of Internet we experience almost hourly in this house, and I’ll give you a few of the million (literally one million) in order to provide some perspective.
1. Orange Telecomm satellite failure
2. Severe rainstorms/ hailstorms (apparently yesterdays was the worst one in years)
3. Power outages
4. The single phone line that provides telephone/internet service to the entire city gets pulled down by a Lori (Semi Trailer) at
any number of random locations.
5. The aforementioned phone line gets stolen from the phone-poles right outside our house.
6. The replacement for the aforementioned line gets pulled down or stolen the very next day.
I think you guys may get the idea.
But all that aside, as the Internet is (at least temporarily) functioning, there is another reason for my absence from the School of Blog. Last week us guys traveled up to Turkana, the northernmost portion of the Kenyan Rift Valley Province, to the towns of Lodwar and Kakuma. The trip really was life changing, and I am not using that term lightly; and, as life changing trips usually go, it has taken me this long to process the voyage enough to even start talking about it. In all actuality the five days spent up there will be the subject of probably a decades worth of processing. Yet, without further ado, I’ll attempt (feebly) to give you all a brief rundown of our experiences*.
*Despite my choice (poor) of words like “brief” this post will most likely get pretty lengthy. I’ll try to break up the monotony (I mean totally exciting and riveting journalism) with things like pictures and videos, but that can only do so much and go so far. And, let’s be honest for a sec here, brevity isn’t really my forte. That being said, please bear with me.
So on Wednesday morning at 5:00 am we (Matt, Chris, Pat, Nick, and myself) loaded into Pastor Ben Tanguli’s van and departed for Lodwar, a mere 450 kilometers away. The first hour was smooth sailing and we caught the sunrise right as we were transitioning from mountain forests to the desert basin of Turkana Land. It looked like this:
Beautiful right? Well whatever joyous feelings were felt after that sight were quickly snuffed out by the 8.5 hour, road lacking, hemorrhoid causing, trek through a desert heating up in the midday sun. We survived however, barely, and landed in Lodwar at just about dusk and settled in for the night. I was told that the long hot drive would be worth it, and I trusted Matt and Chris' assurances. However, I never in a million years anticipated just how worth it the inconveniences actually were going to be. I can honestly say that I would take that drive 10 times in a row, maybe even while actually on fire, to see the things we saw and meet the people we met.
The next day was filled with our helping to orchestrate a Purpose Driven conference for the pastors of the region. Hands were shook, hugs were given, prayers were lifted up, and emails were exchanged (by the hundreds, Kenyans love to trade emails, in fact my inbox is filling up with them by the second). It was so inspiring to see over a hundred pastors sweating through the blistering heat in order to learn how they may become better shepherds to their respective flocks. We said our goodbyes to the Lodwarians (real term?) and left for Kakuma, a mere 120 Kilometers north. The Lord shined on us (through the UN’s maintenance of the road between the towns) and the hour drive through the Turkana Sunset eased our weary hearts. Then I almost died, and we caught it on video!
We arrived just after nightfall and quickly settled into bed and sleep...
WHO’S DOWN FOR SOME 4:30 AM ISLAMIC CALLS TO PRAYER?
NO? WHAT ABOUT 5:30 AM ISLAMIC CALLS TO PRAYER?
COME ON! REALLY? WELL, HOW ABOUT 6:30 AM ISLAMIC CALLS TO PRAYER?
“The Lord rises early!” as they say and so we wasted no time getting our days going. The bulk of which were spent visiting schools, and engaging with the Turkana people in their desert villages. My explanations of what went on would take several blogs worth of space and so I’ll try and let this picture and video sum up the experience.
I don’t know what it is about Kenyans voices uniting in songs to God that hits so deep, but what I do know is that at the close I am always doing the same thing, wiping tears from my face. There’s just something so primal about the sound, so human, so raw, something that transcends all culture, all language, and really all time. This is a once in a lifetime feeling that I’ve got to have several times since being here.
We met with villagers, prayed with them in their churches, and were welcomed into their homes (which were made of sticks and cardboard boxes). They look like this, both the people and their homes:
As we left one such home we were lead to a boy suffering from what we thought was Trachoma (basically a flys invading the eye and laying its eggs there) a sure means to blindness. We brought to the boy to the nearby Mission Hospital where we soon learned that the boy was suffering from Corneal Ulcers (basically a laceration to the eye that grows in size due to a lack of treatment), which would have caused just as much blindness as Trachoma. So we got the boy treated and were assured of his recovery and were offered a tour of the hospital, which was incredible.
We then spent a good amount of time in the UN Refugee Camp, built to house those who fled their homelands (Sudan, Democratic Republic of Congo, Ethiopia, and Somalia) due to genocide and unrest.
Upon returning to the guesthouse where we were staying we became fast friends with James, who we would soon learn was a Sudanese Lost Boy now living in America, who was returning to Sudan for the first time since 1987 to see the mother he left behind at the age of 7. We stayed up till the wee hours of the morning as he regaled us with his nearly unimaginable tale of faith and survival, of which I could hardly do justice on this page, but trust me James is not a friend I will ever forget.
Of course that's not it, countless people were met and a billion other events took place, but seeing as you’ve probable already spent the better part of an hour reading this near novel, I’ll save them for when I see all of you in person. Also, I'm not sure reading about them here can really do them justice. I mean, this post is obviously the opposite of short, but I'm not sure I could truly express my feelings even if I had infinite letters, words, and parentheses to use. It's one of those things you struggle your whole life to fully comprehend. Talking about it, I feel like a total moron, as can be seen in this final video.
But you know, I think I'll get there as more time sets in. As revelation illuminates meaning, the adequate words will follow. But I will say this, God really moved on this trip, and it wasn't through charismatic healings (though healings did occur) or speaking in tongues (though different languages were spoken). It was through hearing a call and following, it was through being in the right place at the right time (which I truly believe is due to divine providence). You don't need to be some prophet or a perfect moral example, you can just be yourself! And attempt to follow where Christ leads you to the best of your ability.
That is that. Thanks again for taking the time to read this (seriously I know it must have been like a marathon, and I hope you had the endurance of a Kenyan). I ask that you keep all of us and those we met in Turkana in your constant thoughts and prayers, as we do them and you.
D.P. over and out.
Thanks for the post, great to see all of your faces, nice beards by the way. Don't worry about how long the blog is, just write, so beautifully as you do, we love to see what God is doing in and through you guys. I am proud to know all of you.
ReplyDeletePapa Spain