The full moon rose over the horizon at 17034 feet above sea level tonight. I know that because I observed with my own eyes the spectacle of the giant silver ball perched upon the snowcapped peak of mount Kenya, balanced upon a pinnacle of rock, silhouetting the entire mountain mass against a backdrop of silvery gray. A stunning scene, an unexpected gift from our creator. I wanted to freeze time for a moment but I had no lens to capture it so I watched as the giant mountain seemed to effortlessly toss the lunar sphere from its brow into the night sky. I was reminded, everything is in motion, in a state of change, everything is temporary, except God himself and I was sure I'd just seen a glimpse of heaven. I wondered if Livingstone or Stanley themselves, the great African explorers, had ever witnessed such a spectacle. When was the last time the full moon had risen exactly over the peak of mount Kenya as it had tonight.

Building a skeleton

Lisa and I had taken a side trip to Mount Kenya Safari Lodge before the big silver bird called 747 took her back home to a more familiar land of smooth pavement and manicured sidewalks. Where water and electricity services work flawlessly 24/7 and garbage is carried away weekly in neat clean trucks. Where we are blessed with abundance often unnoticed in our busyness. Africa can catch you unaware at times, shock you with an unexpected encounter, purple, pink ripples of a sunset, a lion beneath a bush or leopard dozing on the bow of a tree as you take a safari game drive. A simultaneous lightening flash and crack of thunder, an exquisite flower or the plumage of a turquoise and red bird perched on a roadside branch. She can shock you with the empty stare from a dad carrying an infant size coffin, or a shoeless five year old with listless baby slung over her back begging on the street just as easily.

Centipede of men

I was shocked (but to a lesser degree) when I encountered corruption up close and personal this week. Although I had known it was there it's one of those things one can never prepare for when it raises its ugly head. I needed the logbook (pink slip as we call it) for my older vehicle, which someone now wants to buy. I had transferred the ownership into my name exactly two years ago but the all important document was still laying in some dusty seventh floor office in Nairobi. After spending two hours in line I was told by a junior officer, who couldn't look me in the eye, that I would need to pay a fee to locate the document and to expedite it another fee. Two years had passed and I was being asked for a fee to expedite it. I was informed also that I would need to produce evidence that I had paid the transfer fees previously and that they were now closing for lunch and I should return in one and a half hours to continue the matter. I felt the veins in my neck begin to bulge and the words began to roll from my tongue in an unchristian like fashion as the little man closed the glass counter door. It was probably just as well in hindsight since now the logbook is safe in my possession having been retrieved by a Kenyan friend with a more tactful disposition.

Hang on dude

West Pokot to me represents the wild Africa as I had pictured in my mind before I had ever set foot in Kenya. Runo lies there, the main focus of my work here. Like a germinating seed produces a giant tree, so buildings have popped up one after another since we brought in a supply of water 27months ago now. A children's home for the orphans, more classrooms, latrines, water storage tanks and a clinic building are under construction to add to the school house, kitchen, staff housing and of course the soccer field, already completed. Three teams make bricks from the termite hills as others skillfully place them in neat ascending rows and another structure emerges from its foundation. The steel skeleton of the children's home takes shape as truss or purling is hoisted into the air. It's comical to see 16 men lift a piece of steel 180 feet in length, carry it off into the bush like a giant centipede, disappearing from sight, only to return with it held at head height as it is slid into place on top of the waiting trusses. Twenty plus guys calling and yelling instructions to each other in three different languages, stop, lift, go, twende, poli, ochoi, all enjoying the team work, headmaster Samuel in the thick of it, I marveled at how efficiently the work gets done. All there was for me to do was shut up, take pictures and enjoy the experience other than whisper a quick prayer to keep them all safe from injury. If only the folks at OSHA could see this I think to myself. Guys aloft on shaky ladders or hanging single handedly on beams, pulling the steel into position. I'm reminded of the proverb that a man's hunger drives him on for the only pay they ask for is a meal for their hungry bellies. With the last piece in place, they are duly rewarded.

Headmaster Samuel in the thick of things

In a classroom close by 20 or so men have assembled with pastor John. They are strategizing on how they can better reach their community with the gospel. Some have walked from Turkwell 40 kilometers away and they will spend a few days meeting here before they return. They are smartly dressed as if attending church but I know their clean cloths are draped over hungry bellies as there is little food here. I try to offer them a word of encouragement telling them I build the buildings but they are building the church before I stuffed a 1000 shilling note ($15) in pastor John's hand as I wave goodbye. I was 50 feet from the building when I heard the applause and cheers as the lunch money was revealed.

Pastor John's assembly

Exquisite flower

On the equator

I drove off satisfied, knowing once again, I'm in his grasp.