Tag Archives: africa

Daughter of a Missionary

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To be honest, when mum asked me to write this blog post it was just after I had a huge blowout at her about how much I dislike (to say the least) the fact that they live on the other side of the world and had given up their lives to help those in need. People often look at missionaries and volunteer workers and say how wonderful it is that they have given up their lives to help those in need and that it’s such a heroic act. It seems that people don’t often think of the practical things like the sacrifice the rest of their family makes for this to happen. When mum and dad told me that they had decided to move to Kenya I thought that it was a “nice idea” for them to do something different. I had lived overseas before and knew that I would survive without them. But not long after they left for Kenya I felt like my right arm was chopped off. I think this was because I knew they weren’t coming back easily. After a few months of them being over in Kenya I was struggling a lot and decided to move back to New Zealand where all my extended family are.

all of us

Here are 5 things I have learned over the past year and a half:

  1. You’re allowed to miss them

I miss the daddy daughter coffee dates, the ability to live at home (DON’T UNDERESTIMATE THE AWESOMENESS OF BEING ABLE TO LIVE AT HOME! Seriously though, I miss it quite a lot and wish I hadn’t taken it for granted), the painful but great back and neck massages mum gives, the long walks on the beach talking about life with my parents, family outings, special moments with my sister (which were few and far between since we were always arguing), and the list goes on. At first I felt guilty that I missed them because they were doing “such an amazing thing” but then came to realise that it’s my right as their daughter to say I miss them.

  1. Most people don’t understand

No one tells you how empty life can be without family. No one tells you how hard it is to organise skype dates between different time zones. No one tells you how scary it is when you hear of bombings and disasters that are just around the corner from where you know your parents are. The matter of the fact is no one tells you because no one really knows until you’re in the same situation. I don’t actually know anyone else who is a missionary’s kid.

Dad's 3 girls. Not sure how he puts up with us!

  1. Your parents are irreplaceable

The other week I was thinking about the future. What is going to happen when I get married one day? Is my dad going to be able to afford to come to my wedding and walk me down the isle? (He has no option; he’s going to be there whether he likes it or not thank you very much!) When I have my first child is my mum going to be able to be there to hold my hand through the ordeal? How often will they be able to see their grandkids? I don’t want my kids to miss out on having their crazy Crean grandparents around. There is no one who can ever replace my parents in those moments.

  1. Make “other family”

Throughout my life when travelling I have learnt to make other people my “other family” when mine aren’t around. Since living in New Zealand I have somehow managed to find Luke, my prince charming. (Awww!) His family, the Rutlands, have become my family, not because its kind of what happens when you get in a relationship, but because I chose for them to be. His dad, Andrew, takes me for driving lessons, makes me laugh, and gives me great advice. His mum, Sharon, (it’s a weird coincidence that our mums have the same name…) takes me for coffee, gives me hugs and talks with me about life. His sisters, Amy and Hannah, (another weird name coincidence which gets very, VERY confusing) have become my other sisters whom I can laugh with, argue with and cause mischief with. And his gran is one of the coolest gran’s around! I couldn’t do life here without them. I can’t say thank you enough to them for being so supportive and loving me like their own.

Mum and I Skype each week and we message each other all the time.

  1. Accept the fact that there is no such thing as normal anymore

As a missionaries kid you have to learn to modify your thinking of the basic things. What do you do at Christmas time, Fathers Day, Mothers Day, your birthday? Who do you spend those days with? Everyone else has his or her families.

The 4 of us in the US. I left them to come back to Aussie. They went to Kenya.

I’ll tell you a secret: every other day I feel like calling my parents and telling them that I hate the fact that they chose to live in Kenya and that they should come back and live close to me. But I know deep down that this is what my parents are called to do. I know they wouldn’t be happy just living a “normal” life in Australia or New Zealand. And even though most of the time it sucks not having a normal family, I am really proud and glad that they are doing what they love.

This is us on top of Mauna Kea in Hawaii before I went to school there.

 

Daughter of a Missionary

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To be honest, when mum asked me to write this blog post it was just after I had a huge blowout at her about how much I dislike (to say the least) the fact that they live on the other side of the world and had given up their lives to help those in need. People often look at missionaries and volunteer workers and say how wonderful it is that they have given up their lives to help those in need and that it’s such a heroic act. It seems that people don’t often think of the practical things like the sacrifice the rest of their family makes for this to happen. When mum and dad told me that they had decided to move to Kenya I thought that it was a “nice idea” for them to do something different. I had lived overseas before and knew that I would survive without them. But not long after they left for Kenya I felt like my right arm was chopped off. I think this was because I knew they weren’t coming back easily. After a few months of them being over in Kenya I was struggling a lot and decided to move back to New Zealand where all my extended family are.

all of us

This was taken one week before my parents and sister left for Africa in 2012.

Here are 5 things I have learned over the past year and a half:

  1. You’re allowed to miss them

I miss the daddy daughter coffee dates, the ability to live at home (DON’T UNDERESTIMATE THE AWESOMENESS OF BEING ABLE TO LIVE AT HOME! Seriously though, I miss it quite a lot and wish I hadn’t taken it for granted), the painful but great back and neck massages mum gives, the long walks on the beach talking about life with my parents, family outings, special moments with my sister (which were few and far between since we were always arguing), and the list goes on. At first I felt guilty that I missed them because they were doing “such an amazing thing” but then came to realise that it’s my right as their daughter to say I miss them.

  1. Most people don’t understand

No one tells you how empty life can be without family. No one tells you how hard it is to organise skype dates between different time zones. No one tells you how scary it is when you hear of bombings and disasters that are just around the corner from where you know your parents are. The matter of the fact is no one tells you because no one really knows until you’re in the same situation. I don’t actually know anyone else who is a missionary’s kid.

Dad's 3 girls. Not sure how he puts up with us!

Dad’s 3 girls. Not sure how he puts up with us!

  1. Your parents are irreplaceable

The other week I was thinking about the future. What is going to happen when I get married one day? Is my dad going to be able to afford to come to my wedding and walk me down the isle? (He has no option; he’s going to be there whether he likes it or not thank you very much!) When I have my first child is my mum going to be able to be there to hold my hand through the ordeal? How often will they be able to see their grandkids? I don’t want my kids to miss out on having their crazy Crean grandparents around. There is no one who can ever replace my parents in those moments.

  1. Make “other family”

Throughout my life when travelling I have learnt to make other people my “other family” when mine aren’t around. Since living in New Zealand I have somehow managed to find Luke, my prince charming. (Awww!) His family, the Rutlands, have become my family, not because its kind of what happens when you get in a relationship, but because I chose for them to be. His dad, Andrew, takes me for driving lessons, makes me laugh, and gives me great advice. His mum, Sharon, (it’s a weird coincidence that our mums have the same name…) takes me for coffee, gives me hugs and talks with me about life. His sisters, Amy and Hannah, (another weird name coincidence which gets very, VERY confusing) have become my other sisters whom I can laugh with, argue with and cause mischief with. And his gran is one of the coolest gran’s around! I couldn’t do life here without them. I can’t say thank you enough to them for being so supportive and loving me like their own.

Mum and I Skype each week and we message each other all the time.

Mum and I Skype each week and we message each other all the time.

  1. Accept the fact that there is no such thing as normal anymore

As a missionaries kid you have to learn to modify your thinking of the basic things. What do you do at Christmas time, Fathers Day, Mothers Day, your birthday? Who do you spend those days with? Everyone else has his or her families.

The 4 of us in the US. I left them to come back to Aussie. They went to Kenya.

The 4 of us in the US. I left them to come back to Aussie. They went to Kenya.

I’ll tell you a secret: every other day I feel like calling my parents and telling them that I hate the fact that they chose to live in Kenya and that they should come back and live close to me. But I know deep down that this is what my parents are called to do. I know they wouldn’t be happy just living a “normal” life in Australia or New Zealand. And even though most of the time it sucks not having a normal family, I am really proud and glad that they are doing what they love.

This is us on top of Mauna Kea in Hawaii before I went to school there.

This is us on top of Mauna Kea in Hawaii before I went to school there.

 

Lizo Crean

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We have the best two kids in the world – every parent should think their kids are the best by the way. But truly, they are very cool.

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Liz at 8 days old with her dad.

 I’ve decided to write about Liz because so many people ask about her and her ‘story’. Most say they notice something a little different about her but can’t put their finger on it. So here goes.

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It took her a long time to get used to Santa.

Liz was born at 2.10am on December 31st, 1989. It was a normal pregnancy, a long birth, but you know the first labour, as soon as you get a bit of pain you think it’s all started. She was a bit of a floppy baby at first but fed REALLY well.

Things progressed normally for a few years but there were some differences. Things like she packed the biggest tantrums if she couldn’t go with her dad. She didn’t like going to sleep. Her speech was slow in developing. She didn’t interact with kids the same age. Liz crawled at 12 months and walked at 13.

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Taken at around 19 months of age when we first lived in Australia.

Liz has always had the cutest smile and her personality has taken her a long way. She’s always been an outdoor girl. Forget playing with dolls and having pretend tea parties. Get her to ride with her dad on the farm bike and that was another thing.

When Liz was 3 we went to India for 3 weeks. Both the girls got the chickenpox and I remember my sister Angela nearly throwing them at me when we returned (she was a champ). After this, our pastor sat with us and suggested that we take Liz to the doctors as she wasn’t advancing as fast as her peers. I’d suspected for a while that something wasn’t right but for Pete there was no way that HIS daughter had anything wrong with her.

Eventually we took her to our GP who got her into some tests and then a speech therapist. Jeanette was the best thing since sliced bread. Until we left Tokoroa Liz would meet up with her each week. I still have all of Lizzies speech language books. I still remember all the specialists visits, the blood tests, the million and one questions about pregnancy, birth and milestones. Liz knew every test by heart because she had them year after year.

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Sleeptime was never Lizzies favourite time of night – still isn’t.

It wasn’t until years later that we were told that Liz had a syndrome called ‘Global Delayed Development’ and that she was mildly intellectually disabled. Basically she was 6 – 8 years behind what she should’ve been. We were devastated and went back to Jeanette with THE piece of paper. Her reply – “I knew it but didn’t want you putting her or yourselves in a box. Liz will be able to do what Liz can do”. Sure, she had therapy to try and do buttons up, Riding for the Disabled, visits to a child psychologist for her anxiety issues. There were some really tough times – on all of us.

There were times of going one step forward and two steps back. There was the time in her teenage years when you could see her getting depressed and it looked like a little bit of her (inside) was dying each day. There was her younger sister who had everything she didn’t, and Liz became aware of it. There were the struggles of her trying to do mainstream subjects and finding it really difficult. There were the heartaches of her going to youth group and coming home upset because not one person who talked to her.

And then there were the victories. When she was 17 Liz learned to tie up her shoelaces. She finished high school (neither Pete nor I had). She got to be the youngest deacon ever in church. Liz got into photography and helped out with that. There are some phenomenal older people who’ve become Lizzies honorary grandparents and she loves them to bits. The times she has got employed were great and now she volunteers 5 days a week at a preschool in Nairobi.

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Liz with her mate Pastor Don McDonell.

Who would’ve thought that this kid who hated to be touched, was scared of the ocean and couldn’t put 2 words together when she was 3 ½ could’ve turned out to such an incredible young adult. When Liz was little all I wanted her to do was to hold my hand, but her skin got negative impulses from touch and it had to be trained. When she was about 18 she started holding my hand in public, and it was a bit embarrassing until I thought to myself ‘I’ve waited all these years for it and I’m going to enjoy it’. I’m not sure how she overcame her fright of the ocean but now you can’t get her out of it.

I remember the first time Liz said ‘I love you’. I was hanging out the laundry in Tokoroa and Liz was playing outside. That’s a trillion dollar memory.

So what does the future hold for Liz? Who the heck knows – well actually God does and I’m pretty comfortable with that. She’s been receiving the disability pension for the last couple of years while we were in Australia. Because we moved from New Zealand to Aussie she had to wait 10 years for it. Then we moved to Kenya. For the past 18 months she has had to travel back to Aussie every 13 weeks to keep that pension. Most of it goes on travel and she’s had a blast doing it.

The new regulation is that she has to travel back every 6 weeks. It’s insane, but there are not exceptions to the rule, even if you are helping vulnerable kids in a developing country. We are now in the final stages of the next step. It involves her getting assessed by a GP to see if she is at a stage of never being employed (sweeping a broom could be a job). Next, she is interviewed by a Centrelink rep. Then, we wait 6 months for their decision. Either her pension will be stopped or they will allow her to keep getting it without her returning every 6 weeks.

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Liz and her Uncle Dave. Taken in 2014.

We’re hoping for the latter but preparing for the former. Having Liz go back every 6 weeks is a real killer. Trying to find flights that she can pay for is tough. Finding places for Liz to stay is getting tougher. We’ve had some really generous people who’ve had Liz over but you can’t keep using them. Then, what is she to do each day? It’s like living in 2 worlds. While she is away it’s not the real world – people never get ticked off with you, you don’t have any responsibilities, people spoil you. Then it takes a good month to settle into life back here and then you do it all over again.

We are so grateful that Liz is an easy going person. She still has lots of challenges (low reading level, not good at handling money and not always the greatest at reading social cues) but they may be lifelong things. Liz needs a good amount of support for daily living, but she is doing okay for now.

And now is all that matters.

Neways, Maccas and Corruption

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I’ve spent the last 6 weeks travelling through New Zealand and Australia talking with both younger and older people about Africa and the work we do there. It’s been quite a transition in getting used to the convenience of life here and trying not to speak in Swahili and then the biggest shock of how expensive food is.

There’s a few things that we don’t get in Kenya where we are based.

Neways. These are a great range of products that have ingredients that don’t harm us. You’d be surprised what chemicals are in our hair, skin and household products. When we lived in Australia we converted as much as possible to Neways products and really saw the difference. 18 months later we still have some shaving gel left, but everything else has been used up. It’s a real bummer that we can’t get Neways in Kenya but that’s not all we can’t get.

neways McDonalds. Yep, while there’s KFC there is no sight of Maccas. Kenyans love chicken and chips, but there are also some burger bars around the place. KFC is extremely expensive and because I’m a coeliac, can’t eat it anyway. KFC is so popular that sometimes you have to wait 30 minutes for your order.

maccas There’s a big difference on why both Neways and Maccas aren’t in Kenya and it’s very simple – corruption. For any international company to get established in a country across East Africa, there would have to be a lot (and I mean a lot) of ‘incentive dollars’ or ‘lunch money’ handed over. I’m not saying KFC or any other business is corrupt, but I do know for a fact that both Neways and McDonalds could if they wanted to, buy their way into East Africa.

Corruption has strangled the advancement of developing countries. In 1963 Kenya and Singapore were both on the same economic level. I know that there are several reasons why Kenya is in it’s current economic state but everyone knows that corruption has eaten away at the quality of life there. It goes through every level in our communities and it is a horrible thing. It is common practise to be pulled up by police for lunch money, or be given a different price because we are white. While we will do pretty much anything to not be thrown into a Kenyan jail there is always the fight to do what is right.

The pastoral team at our church have made a stand not to give in to corruption even if they have to go to jail. Now, if we can get the other 43 million in our country to do the same maybe we might just be able to turn things around.

A Kenyan Wedding

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Weddings here are quite different to what we’ve experienced in the West. If I were to start a business here it would be in the wedding industry – there’s masses of money to be made. Our friends Steve and Edith invited us to a business partners sons wedding in Nakuru. It meant leaving home at 6.30am and returning the next morning at 1.30am.

We took Steve’s Pajero which broke down half way through the trip so we had to wait for another car to come from Nairobi. I was quite happy with that as the service was 4 hours long! We got their in time for the last 45 minutes. It was all in Swahili except for when the MC gave instructions for the reception.

Check out the video HERE

Because we were two of only three white people we were all the rave for shaking hands. As if I could remember any of their names!! We even had photos with the bridal party. Instantly we were family.

Silly me thought I would go to the toilet when we got to the reception area as it was a sports club. We got there to find out that it was at a sport grounds in marquees. I wasn’t sure if I could make it through the day but then the MC announced that there was a washroom AKA toilet in another area. The day was saved!

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The cakes

At Kenyan weddings there is lots of dancing, usually before the bridal party arrives. I used the excuse of a sore foot (it was true) but a bit hard to explain a neuroma when no one can see it and wearing high heels is a killer. It was a convenient excuse from being totally embarrassed, especially when you’re the only white women amongst hundreds.

We ended up sitting in the VIP area right next to the grooms parents. The food was typically Kenyan so very nice. By the time we had food the bridal party still hadn’t arrived. Apparently they might not do so until the end.

bridesmaids

The bridesmaids

The setup was that the brides family sit under one marquee opposite the grooms family with lots of grass in between. In the middle were several cakes under a smaller marquee.

After the bridal party arrived of course there were the speeches but the important part was the family gifts. It was a major competition between the families about who could bring more and bigger presents. It was mentioned about the gifts that had already been given like an oven. Of course when it came to the grooms side it was done with much ceremony and pomp and the announcement was made that the father had bought them a piece of land.

marquee

One of the many marquees

We thought it was all over until the cake cutting ceremony. The bride kneels to feed her husband a piece of cake and then vice versa.  Another cake is cut and then served to the parents (and us), they didn’t get it that I can’t eat cake because I’m gluten free. Hope they didn’t think I was a snob!

After everything we planned to head home, but no, we had to go to the parents place for an after wedding thing, apparently it’s the norm. Hence we didn’t get home until 1.30am!

Living Without Technology

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The last month has been one of the most frustrating all year – for technology anyway. Technology is great, when it works. When it doesn’t I feel powerless and want to throw my laptop out the window – which of course I don’t do even though I feel like it.

techI’ve spent endless hours and Skype calls between Nairobi, Auckland and Sydney trying to sort out our new website and emails. I built this new website but couldn’t get it launched because of name servers, login details and email systems that wouldn’t work. Then of course, there’s the electricity which decides to go off for hours. In fact we had almost 2 days without power. Just to top it off the battery in my laptop decided to crap out so it decided all by itself when and where it would go.

Can you imagine being without power, the internet, your phone or computer – for a whole day? How do you work, talk to people overseas, find out addresses, look for businesses, design material, contact people or prepare school lessons?

masai

Masai warrior

I see people on Facebook who say they are going to do a fast for a week or month from it. While that’s nice, I see other people complaining that the power went out for two whole hours and their life was miserable. The thing is, we are so reliant on technology that I don’t think any of us can really do without it. I see Masai men herding their cattle in the middle of nowhere who access apps to see what the price of meat and veges are going for at the market.

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The only way to make my charger work.

One of the things we miss is the convenience of life, including access to technology. Living without it is a pain in the butt however it’s the reality of life for millions of people. So we learn to celebrate when we do have it, and survive when we don’t.

Here’s how we manage our challenging situation in Kenya:

  • Keep electronics charged 24/7
  • Put on surge protectors
  • Make sure you have enough credit on your phone for both airtime and the internet
  • Carry a plug in internet flash drive (with credit loaded)
  • Put at least 1,000KES (about $10) on your Mpesa system
  • Remember the cafes that have free wireless internet
  • Have a solar lamp powered up and ready to go
  • Have spare lights around the house
  • Buy a washing machine that automatically goes on when the power returns

What is your plan of action for living without technology?

Don’t Come and Live in Africa

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A year ago we made the crazy move from the beautiful Northern Beaches of Sydney Australia to go and live in Nairobi, Kenya. Why do I say it was crazy (as some of our friends think)? Why would a couple in the most productive and money making years of their lives leave it all behind to go and work with the most poor young people in this part of the world?

There’s no simple answer for that one. I’ve heard people from here say ‘Why don’t people come here long term to serve on the mission field?’ There seems to be a lot of questions on both sides.

So here are my thoughts on the matter.

1. Not everyone is called to move to Africa.

Africa is not a picnic. Sure, there’s some things you only get in this part of the world but not everyone has the tenacity to hack it with all of the negatives, and that’s okay. It takes a certain amount of insanity to live here. There’s a big differences between visiting somewhere for a few weeks and dedicating the rest of your life to a cause on foreign soil with being challenged every day, having to rely on friends for your daily needs or hoping you don’t get really sick because the healthcare is limited.

Just today I had some guy yelling out “Mzungu, mzungu” the whole time I was walking up the street. It was so annoying I wanted to give him the royal finger (another reason I don’t call myself a missionary) and yell a few choice words at him. I feel like saying “Oh my goodness, I never knew I was white”.

mzungu

2. You can be of most excellent use in the West.

You can make money and support a missionary or development worker here by remaining at home. You can pay school fees, earn enough to send kids on a camp, pay travel insurance for someone. You can earn and give, it’s a win win situation. One of the best thing you can do is be an advocate/representative of someone you know who is serving in Africa. Most of the time it’s ‘out of sight, out of mind’ and you could be the key to changing that.

africa

3. Missions aren’t what they used to be.

You need to learn another language, a new culture, a new way of doing EVERYTHING. You need to have computer skills as well as practical ones. It’s not about being behind a pulpit but offering a skill to the local community. The developing world needs doctors, nurses, teacher of teachers, people skilled in media and those who are willing to rough it. You have to be prepared to have less than half of the resources you’re used to. Sometimes the power doesn’t work, you have to boil your water and the internet works when it feels like it.

You’ll end up spending much more time in the office than you thought you would’ve.

People will tell you what a noble thing it is you’re doing. It isn’t and it certainly doesn’t feel that way when you’re trudging through sewerage or spending 12 hours straight in front of a computer trying to sort out email and website issues.

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It ain’t what you think it is.

4. No guarantees of a holiday.

Forget about a 40 hour week and 21 days annual leave. We’ve been here a year and there’s no holidays in sight. We’ve worked on public holidays and most weekends. The average person on the international field will return to their home country every 3 years, but that’s not a holiday at all. It’s full on speaking in churches, schools, clubs and to supporters all that time. We often work on weekends running different programs. The closest beach is a 9 hour drive away and belonging to a club is way too expensive. Every now and then we take a half day off, or like this week the whole of a Wednesday just to get out of the office and out of town, but that means pulling a couple of 15 hour days beforehand. Of course, the paid staff just don’t get it. They clock off at 4.30pm, while I’m often working till 10pm.

5. The loneliness and challenges can be overwhelming.

Everyone is enthusiastic when you first leave but it doesn’t take too long for the contact to dwindle. It’s normal as people have to get on with their lives. There will only be a few dedicated friends who stay in touch. To make new friends takes a long time. For some, the gap on between is too much to bear. Being apart from family is not for everyone. While Skype is great it isn’t the same as day to day interaction. If you move here you may have to pack your kid off to boarding school and only see them every few months. Are you prepared for that. Our youngest daughter will not see Pete for 3 years – that’s 3 years too long.

Do I think that people should forever stay in the country they call home. Most definitely not!

Every person, and I mean everyone should at least once in their lives visit a developing country to get involved short term with a work that is making a difference in a local community.

Short term volunteers make a tremendous difference to an organisation. For us our volunteers have been able to assist kids who can’t read well, encourage local leaders, teach sport and give kids hope. Short term is anyone who stays under 2 years, with the average person staying just over a month. Even a 2 week stint is huge.

Coming for a few months can give you a glimmer of an idea of what it could be like long term. It will also make you grateful for all of the conveniences of life you have at home and what those on the international field have to go without.

suitacaseSo give it a go. Come for a visit and see what happens. And if you move here, don’t say you weren’t warned!!!

Church in Kenya

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There seems to be a church one every corner here in Nairobi. They go from a little tin shack to the huge 5,000 seat auditorium. Some are in huge marquees, others in buildings without windows to the tabernacles that you can see from miles away. There’s some that have short names, others like ‘The Church of the Deliverance of the Holy Ghost in XYZ’. I kid you not.

Worship at Frontrunnerz

Labels and titles are so over rated here. If you’re a ‘bishop’ you almost have to treat them like a king. A Deacon is a church leader and not someone who helps physically set up the service. On the other hand you will see people in top jobs who are happy to be in the car park making sure everyone gets in. Only a few have services online but one thing they all have in common is that they like their music loud.

Dance Moves

The thing that Kenyans know how to do is praise and pray. Some church services go for 3 hours, then they have other programs in the afternoon. As far as I know there are no night services in Nairobi. Probably because people have been in church all day, but also it’s a security risk getting home when it is dark (around 6.45pm).

We decided before we came that we would got to the International Christian Centre (ICC) where I visited in 2007. One mistake people make when moving to a new place is to try every church out in town for one that suits them. Sometimes you just have to make a decision and stick with it. It’s and English speaking church with mostly Kenyans in it. Some songs are in Swahili so it’s good practise to figure out what is being sung.

Pete, Liz and I go to the 10.30am service which is aimed at young professionals, it’s called Frontrunnerz and led by Pastor Gibson (meet him below). They have 2 services in the morning, with about 600 going to the second service. They do have a Saturday night service but we work most weekends so it’s not always easy to get there.

Meet Gibson

Some people might say it’s a happy clappy church. I figure it’s much better than attending a service that is like a funeral. Sure, there’s time for reflection and quietness, I’m all into that but sometimes it’s just great to enjoy the good things that God has done. Here in Kenya things like getting a job, being able to study, making safely through the week or having food on the table is something to get super happy about.

Not a funeral service

We’ve been to some African churches where they get so excited they lift up the plastic chairs and do a dance with it. There’s been some where all the women get up and do a special dance (a good opportunity to hide behind a camera). I’ve been in ones where Pete gets to sit up the front and me way back (being just a woman of course!).

Dancing up the aisle

What I love about Frontrunnerz and ICC is that they present a relevant message in a relevant way. Sure, it’s not perfect but neither are we!!

It wasn’t our goal to come to Kenya to start a church but it is part of our DNA to be a part of a local church. We’ve all heard how no person is an island but it’s so easy to do. It’s easy to look at ‘The Church’ and point the finger, look at all the deficiencies and things that are done wrong and decide not to be a part of it. That’s the thing though, no one nor any organisation is perfect. We’re a work in progress.

Everyone getting into it

I remember Pastor Simon McIntyre who was with us when we were at C3 Oxford Falls (Sydney) saying ‘This church might not suit you, but there is a church for you, a church for everyone’.

If we stopped complaining about ‘The Church’ and decided to be a part of it, we would see some of the great things that are happening. We would meet some different people, some who would drive us up the wall. We would be challenged to get out of our comfort zones. We might even find a place we can call home and a family that accepts us, warts and all.

Worship at Frontrunnerz

A Bit Different To The Easter Show

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This week we attended our first ever International Agricultural Show in Nairobi. We went with Beryl, our agricultural teacher and Gary our new Canadian friend. The traffic was so congested getting there that we left our car parked at the nearest mall and we piled into Gary’s car for his driver to drop us off. We also went back another afternoon but caught pikipikis (motorbikes) and got there really fast.

Entrance into the show, cash only

Entrance into the show, cash only

Because there were 5 of us (Liz took a day off work) we ended up splitting up into two groups.

This show is nothing like Sydney’s Easter Show. Firstly, it only goes for one week and it only costs $3 to get in.  And – lunch cost a whopping $2.50. There was a large outdoor arena where the President spoke on the day we went and there were the normal shows like bands, entertainers and marching teams. However, you had to pay another $2 for that, which we forewent. There’s also no woodchopping events, which are always great to watch.

Some sites were tents, or like this one, inside a building.

Some sites were tents, or like this one, inside a building.

One thing we did notice is that there were hardly any pamphlets on offer. Every stand/tent/expo site had a guest book which you felt obliged to sign (cue endless followup calls). At some places you had to buy their handbooks ($1) but some were worth it especially on how to raise animals. Business cards seemed to be in short supply as well. At most sites there was an ‘in’ and ‘out’ sign which kept foot traffic flowing pretty well.

 

My $2.50 lunch - beef stew, rice and cabbage.

My $2.50 lunch – beef stew, rice and cabbage.

What wasn’t sparse was the amount of places to buy water or have your photo taken in front of a gaudy photobooth. Gaudy with a capital G. There didn’t seem to be any price hikes on drinks and food just because it was a special event, water was only 30 cents a bottle. There seemed to be endless ugly photobooths. I’m talking about large stuffed animals, Christmas decorations and weird backgrounds. Kenyans love photos and it amazed me how these were one of the hits of the show.

 

One of the photobooths.

One of the photobooths.

We avoided the rides and you can see why in the photo below. There were only rides that went round and round (vomit machines) and there were no safety rails. So, if you fell out, too bad. I tried to convince Liz to go on a camel ride but there was no way she was going on one of those things. Liz had a blast though and couldn’t wait to go back for a second day.

Typical ride - without safety bits on them

Typical ride – without safety bits on them

So, if you’re in Nairobi when the agricultural show is on I definitely recommend it.

 

Couldn't get Liz on one of these

Couldn’t get Liz on one of these

Just a few things to note:

–        Go midweek, the later in the week the more people there are

–        There are ATM’s but take cash anyway

–        Be prepared to be fully checked at the entry gates for security

–        Wear comfortable shoes, a hat and sunscreen

–        There are toilets, you just have to pay 10c to use one

–        Buy a map, it’s worth it

 

Take a look at the sign

Take a look at the sign

 

 

My Confession

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I’m not Catholic, but I think there’s something healthy about confessing something. It may not change the situation but you feel unburdened and hopefully get a fresh start.

I am jealous. Not even a small amount, I mean jealous with a capital J.

 

1. The thing I’m really jealous of is that people have the capacity to earn money.

Gone are the days when we could redecorate someone’s house, paint a building or do a photo shoot to get some extra cash or travel overseas with. I really miss those days. Sure, it may not seem much to you, but to both Pete and I it’s a huge thing.

Instead we have become professional beggars, accosting friends and family around the world for donations to live off and do our work in East Africa.

begging

Even people here have that one on us. Sure, there is a huge unemployment rate but I really admire the people who even have a stall on the side of the road selling foodstuffs.

There is something about earning a good dollar. A friend who is a trained counsellor told me that job satisfaction is the top priority for people in their 40’s and 50’ and I can identify with that. However, the pay also makes it worth it.

Actually, it’s not about making money, but having the freedom to do so.

I think that’s like a lot of people here who have far less options than us right now. They feel like their hands are tied and unlike us they don’t have hope nor a good circle of supporters who are doing life with them. So, although I hate this feeling, I’m thankful for what we’ve had, do have and will have.

I am thankful for every single person who partners with us. This whole thing makes us rely on God and to be honest, it doesn’t get any easier. But if I can trust God to save me, I can trust Him to take care of us each day.

 

2. I get jealous of photos people put up of the beach.

We lived in Sydney for 11 years and loved every moment of it. For the first two years I would wake up and say ‘another day in paradise’. Not sure what happened after that but we really, really enjoyed it. I loved going for a run most days and then spending 30 minutes at the beach – a 4 minute walk away. If there’s anything I miss, it’s being able to get out the door and go for a good walk. Here it’s a high risk sport going for a run by the road. In our first week here we almost got hit by a person pretending they could drive. I’ve never seen a driver with such large eyes.

beachOur nearest beach is a 9 hour drive – and not an easy drive either.

There’s a place we drive by that has this large unused field lined with trees and Pete would say in our early days here ‘I’m just imagining that there is a beach behind those trees’.

This past week we finally got a coffee table and we indulged in spending $20 on this absolutely beautiful canoe shaped bowl. We bought it specifically to put in it shells we had bought from Hawaii (my favourite holiday destination) which have been packed for the last 12 months. I look at them with fond memories and yes, I’ve even put one up to my ear to hear the ocean.

That’s what it’s about though – gratefulness. We’ve travelled all around the world, have seen amazing things and met some incredible people. I’ve someone working in our office who has never been out of the country and until a few months ago hadn’t been to a town only 2 hours away.

It’s about keeping things in perspective.

photo

3. I get jealous that you get Mainland Cheese.

Pathetic I know, but man does it taste good. I mean, it’s creamy, soft and melts on toasted sandwiches.  Even when we lived in Sydney you could buy Mainland Cheese there. No wonder I couldn’t keep the weight off!

There are several times I wish people could bring back real cheese in their suitcase. The cheese here just doesn’t taste like anything. Apparently you have to leave it in the fridge for a couple of months to get anything decent out of it.

I long for the days of macaroni cheese, toasted sandwiches and a decent cheese sauce over the cauliflower. What’s the point of having cauliflower anyway if you can’t have cheese sauce!

Actually you can buy New Zealand cheese here, for $30 a kilo. Even then I’m not totally convinced that it’s the real deal. Liz is in NZ and told me she had nachos the other night with stacks of cheese on it. She asked my sister for a whole pile of cheese. Proof that it’s not just me!

However, I have found an okay Camembert cheese for the rice crackers people have sent us. Unfortunately it has to be a special treat every few months, which is probably good for my waistline.

cheese

4. I get jealous of those overseas photos on Facebook

Actually that’s a total lie. I don’t at all. It’s the same when people put up photos of their latest car, clothes or anything very cool. Some people feel bad that they get these things while we are ‘giving it all up to live in Africa’. Not at all. I love to celebrate every single adventure people are having.

We are so blessed to be able to do what we do and yet live in an online world that allows us to live with a global family. Please, please, please keep putting up those updates and photos of your adventures. There’s enough sadness in the world and we need to learn to celebrate what and when we can with those that we care about.

If I can say anything, it would be to get out of your comfort zone and go on an adventure.

I have a friend who is a little older than me who is travelling through Europe and she looks like she is having an absolute ball. I love seeing her smiling face enjoying the sites, people and ice cream sundaes. I love the fact that after all these years she is taking a well deserved holiday.

You see, jealousy can be a driving force to eat you up about what you don’t have or it can be an opportunity to enjoy what you actually do have. If I spend all my time whinging ‘I don’t have this, I don’t have that’ it takes my focus off the joy of the moment and appreciating what we do have.

Sure, I’d give my right arm to get on a plane and shoot to Dubai for the weekend, who wouldn’t. We could do that and not eat for two months – that’s not exactly a winning situation. Or, I can enthusiastically look forward to our 6 visitors this week, knowing we have a house big enough for them all. It’s probably the first time in our lives that we’ve had a place big enough that people don’t have to sleep on the floor when they come. Now that’s something to be happy about.

When we lived in Sydney one of our kids (who will remain nameless but it begins with H) would always complain about living in a ghetto – Dee Why. We would remind her that our 2 bedroom apartment rental was a half a million dollar ‘ghetto’. After taking her on her first trip to Africa she really saw the meaning of the word and we didn’t hear a peep out of her about it from that time on.

People tell me that I am so lucky doing what we do. But let’s hear it people – what are you jealous of?