Patience is a virtue I'm only beginning to master!

I’ve had back pain for 25 years. Most of it is chronic pain from accidents sustained in my youth (relatively speaking) and a staff infection that decided to put down deep roots in my back about 5 years ago. The doctor who operated to remove it said there would be no residual pain and no scar. I have both pain and a scar and LOTS of scar tissue, which is now my main issue. Recently the pain has become more severe and a few weeks ago it actually became disabling.

So like in the states you have to see your primary doctor before you can be referred to a specialist. I went to my insurance providers clinic. They told me that I could get a scan and go for physiotherapy. I knew what I needed was a chiropractor but the doctor who saw me told me that my insurance didn’t refer to chiropractors. At this point the dire pain and frustration of having to take an expensive taxi into Nairobi to be told the treatment I wanted was not available to me was so discouraging that I just left the doctor’s office without even getting a referral. So maybe this wasn’t the brightest move…but like I said, I wasn’t in any condition to be logical.

Which I proved ten-fold when I promptly told my daughter that I knew there was a chiropractor that I had visited 5 years ago when I had a similar problem…somewhere close to where we were. I am operating only on memory at this point. So we head off on foot across Nairobi to where I am sure there is a chiropractor’s office.

Miracles of all miracles, the chiropractor’s office is still there. And my “important-fact poor but directionally-rich memory got us there in about 20 minutes. I walked in quite sure that the good Lord had led me to immediate healing only to be told that the doctor wouldn’t be able to see me until next week. Almost in tears and too tired and frustrated to talk, I stumbled out of the office and continued down the street. I bought Judie and I juice and cookies and we headed to my friend Joe’s office, which was another 10-minute walk away. We rested and recounted our morning of woe and then Joe dropped us at a matatu stage so we could go home. I was going to tough out the pain on the matatu…no more over-priced taxis for me!

Once home I got on FB and went to my church’s FB page and asked if anyone knew of a chiropractor in Karen. Within minutes I had the number to the only chiropractor in Karen. (FYI – there are only 8 licensed chiropractors in all of Kenya). The next morning I called and was given an appointment for that afternoon. Praise God!

I meet my Kenyan doctor, a Iowa-educated muslim, who has worked in Texas for the past two years and has been back in Kenya for exactly two weeks. After a short assessment he determines my back is, “a mess.”

He proceeds to use all sorts of treatments I’ve never hear of that are immensely painful and get this – THEY WORK! My pain is reducing and I’m feeling stronger everyday!

I’ve bought a corset for my motorcycle rides into the bush…although I went to put it on for the first time five minutes before I was supposed to leave to go to Ilkiloret and the corset was too big!

So I said a really fast prayer to GOD, “why me…again! PLEASE keep the pain at bay.”

And guess what – IT WORKED! The pain was minimal.

So here’s what this life lesson has taught me. BE PATIENT! Twenty-five years may seem like a lot to receive healing, even finding the right doctor was a frustrating process. But I would not have found the doctor with the new techniques that are actually getting rid of the mounds of scar tissue my body has accumulated.

So hey God, this bit is for you – I’m ready to be patient…or at least try harder at being patient. I know you are at work in the world and in my tiny piece of it and in me, today and everyday. Thank you for blessing me with healing, please continue to heal every part of my life that is broken. Amen!

Namanga Trip

Namanga is a town on the boarder of Kenya and Tanzania. Grace has been wanting to take a trip there with all the kids for some time. She came up with the idea to combine a trip to Namanga with a women’s conference for African Inland Church that was being held in Bisil about 50 km from the boarder.

If you’ve ever heard the expression if it can go wrong, it will go wrong. You have a pretty clear picture of our travel adventure. Grace had planned to leave Ngong at 9 a.m.

At 8:30 a.m. I called her and the vehicle she hired had not arrived. That was not a good sign because the vehicle is parked just down the road from them in Kimuga. When it finally did arrive, the driver didn’t think he had enough gas to get to Ngong. So Grace called and ask me to send my piki piki driver down with petrol. When he finally met with them on the road, the driver had neglected to tell Grace that the vehicle used diesel. The vehicle however did make it to Ngong. Grace called and told me to meet them at the Kibiko stage because the driver was getting gas. The driver had not gone to a gas station because the matatu did not have a proper gas tank. It was jeri-rigged under the driver’s seat! So after waiting for 15 minutes we were on the road in this highly illegal and dangerous vehicle! We stopped for snacks and water at the Tuskys, a new chain grocery store on the way to Kiserian where this matatu would leave us and we would hire another one from Kiserian to Namanga. Grace wanted to negociate with the present driver to take us further but I said it was unsafe for us to go any further in the death trap matatu!

We secured another matatu in short order in Kiserian and were on our way again. After transerfering the eight high school girls and all our luggage, including blankets which were not provided at the conference.

In Oolitokitok (yes, that’s the name of the town it’s a Maasai name), a man on the side of the road yelled to the matatu and pointed at our tire. Sure enough it was dead flat. We were there for another half an hour while we waited for another matatu to come from the same company so we could continue to Namanga. 

The matatu took us to AIC church in Namanga where we were luckily enough to have a local missionary (he works with the muslims in the area) to walk us across the boarder. No paperwork, just lunch in Tanzania and pictures by the “you are entering” signs. The Tanzania shilling is really low right now. For $23.75 USD we bought 12 people lunch at the Alpha and Omega restaurant! Judie and I agreed as we were leaving that she should go to college there so we can live on the cheap! 

It was a quick tour since it was getting late…not much to see anyway. They are building a new road from the boarder of Tanzania to Arusha. So it was just dusty…lots of stuff had been bulldozed to make room for the road so the no-man’s land between the boarders was truly that.

We got back to AIC and piled into the matatu and Grace told me the driver wanted more money…they always do this about this time in the journey. I held my ground and they got paid what was originally agreed to. They see my white skin and even though their money is not green they know mine is and all of the sudden all they see are dollar signs. My budget doesn’t have wiggle room… and doesn’t abide whiney matatu drivers!

We had dropped our luggage off at AIC church in Bisil, so we stopped there and picked it up and headed to Bisil Secondary School where the conference was to take place. Bisil is a desolate but beautiful place.

When we were handed a conference schedule, I knew I was going to be in for a very boring four days. The schedule was entirely in Swahili, which meant none of the sessions would be held in English. There were a lot of Maasai women there too, so that meant everything would be translated into Maasai, which means everything takes twice as long.

The first order of business was to find a place to sleep. We were taken to a dorm and told to find a bunk and a mattress. We did our best. Most of the bottom bunks were taken. I found a top bunk in a corner by a window.  Judie took the one parallel to mine. There was not enough room for all the bunk beds in the room so some of them were pushed up against one another. A Maasai woman took the bunk next to Judie’s that had no space between it and Judie’s and another Maasai woman shared it with her so that Judie only got 2/3 of her bed to sleep on.

The bathroom was huge but there was no running water, so you had to carry water from an outside tank to bathe. We used the mattresses and the buckets that were the property of the high school girls who boarded there. I feel bad for them. How will those girls every find their things!

You were not allowed to poop in the indoor toilets (which were just squat toilets), you had to use the choo outside, which was really disgusting.

The conference was not well organized. They did not take pre-registration so they didn’t have a good idea of how many people were coming so some people had to sleep on the floor in a classroom and the first night they did not have enough food to go around.

The pastor from Bisil AIC Church came to welcome the women on the second day and told them (as there had been complaints about the quality and lack of food) that they had not come there to eat but to pray! Enough said about that!

By Saturday morning I had had enough and went to find Grace during breakfast…(there was not a hall to meet or eat in so we ate outside or on our bunks and met in a building that was under construction without a roof); and asked her if I could please leave because I wanted to attend my church in Karen on Sunday so I could hear the word of God in my language. She said yes and I took Judie and came home.

Judie’s last words to me as I said good night to her on Saturday night were, “thanks for taking me with you Mom!”

Grace meant well by inviting me…but this was one event she needn’t have included me. I did by the way have a marvelous time at Karen Vineyard Church on Sunday! Everyone needs community. Grace has hers at AIC and I have mine at KVC. No one said, we all need to be apart of the same community…believers come in all shapes and colors and speak different languages. Finding a place where you belong, where just being there makes you feel better, that’s what fellowship is all about. I’m so incredibly blessed to have found that here in my adopted home.

 Self-portrait at AIC Women's Conference.

Namanga is a town on the boarder of Kenya and Tanzania. Grace has been wanting to take a trip there with all the kids for some time. She came up with the idea to combine a trip to Namanga with a women’s conference for African Inland Church that was being held in Bisil about 50 km from the boarder.

If you’ve ever heard the expression if it can go wrong, it will go wrong. You have a pretty clear picture of our travel adventure. Grace had planned to leave Ngong at 9 a.m.

At 8:30 a.m. I called her and the vehicle she hired had not arrived. That was not a good sign because the vehicle is parked just down the road from them in Kimuga. When it finally did arrive, the driver didn’t think he had enough gas to get to Ngong. So Grace called and ask me to send my piki piki driver down with petrol. When he finally met with them on the road, the driver had neglected to tell Grace that the vehicle used diesel. The vehicle however did make it to Ngong. Grace called and told me to meet them at the Kibiko stage because the driver was getting gas. The driver had not gone to a gas station because the matatu did not have a proper gas tank. It was jeri-rigged under the driver’s seat! So after waiting for 15 minutes we were on the road in this highly illegal and dangerous vehicle! We stopped for snacks and water at the Tuskys, a new chain grocery store on the way to Kiserian where this matatu would leave us and we would hire another one from Kiserian to Namanga. Grace wanted to negociate with the present driver to take us further but I said it was unsafe for us to go any further in the death trap matatu!

We secured another matatu in short order in Kiserian and were on our way again. After transerfering the eight high school girls and all our luggage, including blankets which were not provided at the conference.

In Oolitokitok (yes, that’s the name of the town it’s a Maasai name), a man on the side of the road yelled to the matatu and pointed at our tire. Sure enough it was dead flat. We were there for another half an hour while we waited for another matatu to come from the same company so we could continue to Namanga. 

The matatu took us to AIC church in Namanga where we were luckily enough to have a local missionary (he works with the muslims in the area) to walk us across the boarder. No paperwork, just lunch in Tanzania and pictures by the “you are entering” signs. The Tanzania shilling is really low right now. For $23.75 USD we bought 12 people lunch at the Alpha and Omega restaurant! Judie and I agreed as we were leaving that she should go to college there so we can live on the cheap! 

It was a quick tour since it was getting late…not much to see anyway. They are building a new road from the boarder of Tanzania to Arusha. So it was just dusty…lots of stuff had been bulldozed to make room for the road so the no-man’s land between the boarders was truly that.

We got back to AIC and piled into the matatu and Grace told me the driver wanted more money…they always do this about this time in the journey. I held my ground and they got paid what was originally agreed to. They see my white skin and even though their money is not green they know mine is and all of the sudden all they see are dollar signs. My budget doesn’t have wiggle room… and doesn’t abide whiney matatu drivers!

We had dropped our luggage off at AIC church in Bisil, so we stopped there and picked it up and headed to Bisil Secondary School where the conference was to take place. Bisil is a desolate but beautiful place.

When we were handed a conference schedule, I knew I was going to be in for a very boring four days. The schedule was entirely in Swahili, which meant none of the sessions would be held in English. There were a lot of Maasai women there too, so that meant everything would be translated into Maasai, which means everything takes twice as long.

The first order of business was to find a place to sleep. We were taken to a dorm and told to find a bunk and a mattress. We did our best. Most of the bottom bunks were taken. I found a top bunk in a corner by a window.  Judie took the one parallel to mine. There was not enough room for all the bunk beds in the room so some of them were pushed up against one another. A Maasai woman took the bunk next to Judie’s that had no space between it and Judie’s and another Maasai woman shared it with her so that Judie only got 2/3 of her bed to sleep on.

The bathroom was huge but there was no running water, so you had to carry water from an outside tank to bathe. We used the mattresses and the buckets that were the property of the high school girls who boarded there. I feel bad for them. How will those girls every find their things!

You were not allowed to poop in the indoor toilets (which were just squat toilets), you had to use the choo outside, which was really disgusting.

The conference was not well organized. They did not take pre-registration so they didn’t have a good idea of how many people were coming so some people had to sleep on the floor in a classroom and the first night they did not have enough food to go around.

The pastor from Bisil AIC Church came to welcome the women on the second day and told them (as there had been complaints about the quality and lack of food) that they had not come there to eat but to pray! Enough said about that!

By Saturday morning I had had enough and went to find Grace during breakfast…(there was not a hall to meet or eat in so we ate outside or on our bunks and met in a building that was under construction without a roof); and asked her if I could please leave because I wanted to attend my church in Karen on Sunday so I could hear the word of God in my language. She said yes and I took Judie and came home.

Judie’s last words to me as I said good night to her on Saturday night were, “thanks for taking me with you Mom!”

Grace meant well by inviting me…but this was one event she needn’t have included me. I did by the way have a marvelous time at Karen Vineyard Church on Sunday! Everyone needs community. Grace has hers at AIC and I have mine at KVC. No one said, we all need to be apart of the same community…believers come in all shapes and colors and speak different languages. Finding a place where you belong, where just being there makes you feel better, that’s what fellowship is all about. I’m so incredibly blessed to have found that here in my adopted home.

 Self-portrait at AIC Women's Conference.

Namanga is a town on the boarder of Kenya and Tanzania. Grace has been wanting to take a trip there with all the kids for some time. She came up with the idea to combine a trip to Namanga with a women’s conference for African Inland Church that was being held in Bisil about 50 km from the boarder.

If you’ve ever heard the expression if it can go wrong, it will go wrong. You have a pretty clear picture of our travel adventure. Grace had planned to leave Ngong at 9 a.m.

At 8:30 a.m. I called her and the vehicle she hired had not arrived. That was not a good sign because the vehicle is parked just down the road from them in Kimuga. When it finally did arrive, the driver didn’t think he had enough gas to get to Ngong. So Grace called and ask me to send my piki piki driver down with petrol. When he finally met with them on the road, the driver had neglected to tell Grace that the vehicle used diesel. The vehicle however did make it to Ngong. Grace called and told me to meet them at the Kibiko stage because the driver was getting gas. The driver had not gone to a gas station because the matatu did not have a proper gas tank. It was jeri-rigged under the driver’s seat! So after waiting for 15 minutes we were on the road in this highly illegal and dangerous vehicle! We stopped for snacks and water at the Tuskys, a new chain grocery store on the way to Kiserian where this matatu would leave us and we would hire another one from Kiserian to Namanga. Grace wanted to negociate with the present driver to take us further but I said it was unsafe for us to go any further in the death trap matatu!

We secured another matatu in short order in Kiserian and were on our way again. After transerfering the eight high school girls and all our luggage, including blankets which were not provided at the conference.

In Oolitokitok (yes, that’s the name of the town it’s a Maasai name), a man on the side of the road yelled to the matatu and pointed at our tire. Sure enough it was dead flat. We were there for another half an hour while we waited for another matatu to come from the same company so we could continue to Namanga. 

The matatu took us to AIC church in Namanga where we were luckily enough to have a local missionary (he works with the muslims in the area) to walk us across the boarder. No paperwork, just lunch in Tanzania and pictures by the “you are entering” signs. The Tanzania shilling is really low right now. For $23.75 USD we bought 12 people lunch at the Alpha and Omega restaurant! Judie and I agreed as we were leaving that she should go to college there so we can live on the cheap! 

It was a quick tour since it was getting late…not much to see anyway. They are building a new road from the boarder of Tanzania to Arusha. So it was just dusty…lots of stuff had been bulldozed to make room for the road so the no-man’s land between the boarders was truly that.

We got back to AIC and piled into the matatu and Grace told me the driver wanted more money…they always do this about this time in the journey. I held my ground and they got paid what was originally agreed to. They see my white skin and even though their money is not green they know mine is and all of the sudden all they see are dollar signs. My budget doesn’t have wiggle room… and doesn’t abide whiney matatu drivers!

We had dropped our luggage off at AIC church in Bisil, so we stopped there and picked it up and headed to Bisil Secondary School where the conference was to take place. Bisil is a desolate but beautiful place.

When we were handed a conference schedule, I knew I was going to be in for a very boring four days. The schedule was entirely in Swahili, which meant none of the sessions would be held in English. There were a lot of Maasai women there too, so that meant everything would be translated into Maasai, which means everything takes twice as long.

The first order of business was to find a place to sleep. We were taken to a dorm and told to find a bunk and a mattress. We did our best. Most of the bottom bunks were taken. I found a top bunk in a corner by a window.  Judie took the one parallel to mine. There was not enough room for all the bunk beds in the room so some of them were pushed up against one another. A Maasai woman took the bunk next to Judie’s that had no space between it and Judie’s and another Maasai woman shared it with her so that Judie only got 2/3 of her bed to sleep on.

The bathroom was huge but there was no running water, so you had to carry water from an outside tank to bathe. We used the mattresses and the buckets that were the property of the high school girls who boarded there. I feel bad for them. How will those girls every find their things!

You were not allowed to poop in the indoor toilets (which were just squat toilets), you had to use the choo outside, which was really disgusting.

The conference was not well organized. They did not take pre-registration so they didn’t have a good idea of how many people were coming so some people had to sleep on the floor in a classroom and the first night they did not have enough food to go around.

The pastor from Bisil AIC Church came to welcome the women on the second day and told them (as there had been complaints about the quality and lack of food) that they had not come there to eat but to pray! Enough said about that!

By Saturday morning I had had enough and went to find Grace during breakfast…(there was not a hall to meet or eat in so we ate outside or on our bunks and met in a building that was under construction without a roof); and asked her if I could please leave because I wanted to attend my church in Karen on Sunday so I could hear the word of God in my language. She said yes and I took Judie and came home.

Judie’s last words to me as I said good night to her on Saturday night were, “thanks for taking me with you Mom!”

Grace meant well by inviting me…but this was one event she needn’t have included me. I did by the way have a marvelous time at Karen Vineyard Church on Sunday! Everyone needs community. Grace has hers at AIC and I have mine at KVC. No one said, we all need to be apart of the same community…believers come in all shapes and colors and speak different languages. Finding a place where you belong, where just being there makes you feel better, that’s what fellowship is all about. I’m so incredibly blessed to have found that here in my adopted home.

 Self-portrait at AIC Women's Conference.

African Wedding

I should have wrote this a week ago but sometimes inspiration doesn’t hit when you need it to.

Saturday, Sept. 18 I attended the wedding of my very good friend Allen Murithi. He was the pastor who sang in the music video Wezesha made last April. AKA Pastor Rhymes. His wedding was held in Embu a two hour drive from Nairobi. I live another hour on the other side of Nairobi. Allen found me a ride with his friend Jay. But I had to be on a mat at 7 a.m. to meet Jay, Sarah and Jean Marc to get to the wedding site by 10 a.m.

Kenyan weddings NEVER start on time. So why we left Nairobi at 8, I’ll never know. When we arrived promptly at 10 a.m. there were three cars in the parking lot so we headed into Embu town to a popular travelers hotel and had breakfast. The server was horrible so over our two-hour breakfast we had plenty of time to get to know one another.

We arrived around 12:15 back at the wedding site. The crowd was just starting to make it’s way into the garden for the wedding. At 1p.m. as I had predicted when we were taking bets at breakfast as to when the vows would be said the bride and groom said, “I do.”

By 2:30 we were back on the road again to Nairobi. The lunch was just being put out as we were leaving so we ate lunch at a roadside restaurant on our way home.

I was deposited back in Nairobi around 5:45 p.m. and wearily entered my apartment at 7 p.m. I was drop dead tired, but happy to have done my friend duty and attended Allen’s wedding. I owe him big for help me with the music video and as he is a total ham and attention addict…his wedding was full of Allen being Allen… see pics below!

On the way home we stopped to buy some produce from some roadside hawkers. This is what it feels like being in a fish bowl!

Lack of art is a sin!

I speak gospel truth when I say life without art is a sin. My mother’s side of the family paint and draw and write. My father’s side of the family are crafters and tinkerers. Creative juice runs through my veins.

White/plain walls are evil incarnate! Unfortunately, I cannot carry my art collection with me to Kenya…and my current financial situation vastly limits my ability to acquire any local art…so I’ve had to resort to what I call graffiti art. It’s cheap; all it requires is large sheets of paper, markers, stencils, double sided tape, and a bit of creativity. Omondi has embraced this new art form will gusto. Judie has so much as lifted a marker, but I hope as our walls fill she will want to leave her mark too.

Here’s what we’ve done so far:

Any art ideas for what we should do next would be greatly appreciated!

Esau, Judie's friend from school is a budding young artist. The painting of the Maasai warriors is one of his pieces. If you're interested in getting an original of your own I can arrange it.

Thanks for patronizing the arts!

It’s only been 10 years!

I have been looking for a good Swahili tutor forever! And then when I’d finally given up one was sitting right in front of me at a Bible Study. See, God does answer prayers…

I had been attending PCEA Enchorro Emuny Presbyterian Church in Ngong. I have never felt particularly at home there and because of happenstance the past month I’ve spent every Sunday at Karen Vineyard Church (KVC) which is held in the auditorium of a high school in Karen, which is about 15 minutes from Ngong. It’s a two-matatu commute but it’s well worth the 50-shilling fare each way. I’ve met loads of new people both expats and Kenyans and I started attending a bi-weekly women’s Bible Study. It’s been an amazing experience. The first time I attended I met Mildred who is a professional Swahili tutor and had been to KVC only a few times but had come to the Bible Study for the first time that day. Our meeting can only be a God thing.

Mildred and I meet every Friday from 2-3:30 – not the best time of day for me…my brain takes a siesta in the afternoons. By 3pm I’m fighting the yawns. But I’m actually learning and realizing that I already have a ridiculously large Swahili vocabulary and as soon as I figure out how to string together a sentence I’m gonna be rattling off Swahili like a native-born Kenyan. Kabisa!