I came too from a restless sleep on my first night back in Kenya,
groggy from the effects of the Tylenol PM I'd taken a few hours
earlier but alert enough to reflect back over the events of the
last few days and the brutal journey back to this foreign yet
enchanting land. I began to have one of those 'where am I and what
the hell am I doing' moments for a while, as if waking from a
dream, or walking out into reality from a movie theater. But I
guess that's only natural when, alone, you switch countries and
cultures so rapidly, leaving family and friends and all that's
familiar half a world away. This is not a new feeling for me but
this time I decided to write this email if for no other reason than
to stay in touch but perhaps more to help me focus on the road
ahead for the next few months.
A couple of hours after waking any doubts which may have crossed my
mind were dispelled like the darkness as the sun broke the horizon
and I walked, coffee in hand, out onto the balcony of my room at
Brittany's House. I had arrived back in Kitale late at night under
a spectacular canopy of stars displayed in the black African night.
The brilliant sunrise had brought an equally inspiring site,
lighting the sky a vivid orange and blue before illuminating shades
of green of the lush foliage blanketing the countryside. Once again
the maize crops spring from the rich soil and trees and shrubs
chirping birds occasionally swoop from the trees to catch bugs and
the dusty roads having been turned to muddy rutted tracks will be
fun to drive on, for a while at least. The twenty thousand tree
seedlings planted in plastic sleeves at the compound last January
are begging to be transplanted, some having reached a meter tall in
only a few short weeks.
As I sat and observed all this I suddenly heard the sound of
children's laughter and wondered down stairs to find Anne,
Brittany's nanny and mother to 5 year old Jimmy and 3 year old
Elizabeth in the courtyard. Our manager Njeri was there also and I
was welcomed back with smiles and hugs as I witnessed Brittany
walking for the first time cheered on by us all as she proudly
demonstrated her new skill to us.
Anne, Njeri, Brittany and Jimmy
I was anxious to head out to Pokot and the Runo project to find out
what was going on and to pick up where I'd left off last trip. I
jumped in my truck and headed north, down the escarpment of the
Cherangani Hills, dodging bicycles, goats, cows and the odd stray
donkey along the way. The further north one travels the more the
road deteriorates and huge potholes and rocks appeared in the road
and even sudden detours around vast gullies which would swallow a
vehicle, all caused by the recent rains.
Church at Runo
I arrived at Runo early in the afternoon and being Sunday church
was still in session although the service had started over 3 hours
earlier. I had met Samuel, the school headmaster, along the road as
I approached and together we walked the site making our game plan
for the next phase. Twenty thousand bricks to be made from termite
clay, and seven thousand square feet of concrete all mixed by hand
will be needed. Gravel and rock will be gathered from the hills and
roadside and placed in sacks to be collected later at a going rate
of 70cents per sack. Sand must be brought from the riverbed and
wood to fire the bricks. The work will be welcome since famine is
still severe in the region and a malaria outbreak has stricken
many. Samuel told me of a mother who while riding in the back of a
pickup truck trying to get her child to a clinic found she had left
it too late. The child died on the way and she was left at the side
of the road with her dead baby to make her way back. Such are the hardships these people endure. I was embarrassed and ashamed
as I recalled how only two days prior I had shown my displeasure at
being given a center seat on the cramped flight from London to
Nairobi.
I wish all of you reading this could have seen the smiling faces
and heard the singing voices as perhaps 100 people filed out of the
makeshift church building. All in perfect harmony to the beat of a
single goatskin drum. I was humbled yet blessed by their welcome
and cheers of joy as I announced that their brothers and sisters in
the U.S. were continuing to help them. Buildings will be built,
water tanks constructed and medical clinics held but the biggest
cheer was reserved for when I told them some of you would oon be
coming to visit. I don't know why I was chosen for such privilege
but I know I represent all of you and especially those who donate
hard earned money to sponsor and fund these projects, bringing hope
and relief now and opportunity for the future as you do. I don't
take the responsibility lightly.
Pastor John
God is slowly revealing a vision for this place and these people
and I feel tremendously privileged. As I mentioned, some of you
will soon be coming to see for your selves what's taking shape and
I hope many more will come in future. I can't put these experiences
into words so I hope you'll consider making the trip if you haven't
already.
Until next time, I remain in His grasp.
Your friend, Paul.
M.S.I
23322 Madera Road, Suite A,
Mission Viejo, CA 92691. |
