After going once, I said yes to a second trip to Africa to see what I could do to help. Is that arrogance, perhaps. But I truly felt that it was a calling, and I couldn’t say no. One Village at a Time was born that fall of 2002 and it has grown and changed so much. Most of all I have changed so much because I said yes.

I was listening to a friend complain yesterday about something that displeased her. And I said to her it was about time she accepted the fact that that the world wasn’t always nay seldom going to perform the way she wanted it to. The universe doesn’t ask our opinion on how it’s doing. It’s just something I know now. There is a sense of peace and purpose in my life. Africa did that for me. It held up a beautiful ,cruel universe and beckoned me to try my hand. And every time I return, I feel as if I am recapturing the piece of my heart I left waiting for me.

This week the board reviewed my medical expenses from the last trip. And they are not small what with the broken leg, pt, the surgery for the knee and more pt. They are not upset about the monetary cost. Their concerns are about how I can stay safer. Should I double the bodyguards? Are there places I shouldn’t travel? I know it is because they care about me but they are so young. I am old enough to be mother to every one of them.

Their lives are in the beginning stages of jobs and marriages and loves and dating. They don’t understand purpose the way I do. I have reared my family and thankfully my daughters understand that I must do this. They’ve known about the “when I die” file for a long time. I love the careers I have had, but nothing compares to what I do now. Not even the grandchildren, though I love them dearly.

So I shall not stay safe. I read this morning that the US has warned Kenya that terrorists are in the final plans for staging some atrocity. I hope my board doesn’t see it, but even if they do, as soon as I am walking again, I am ready to go back. Along with grace and acceptance I am lucky enough not to be afraid anymore. I’m not afraid of what people say, or even what will happen to me. I know in my soul that I will do this until it is time to stop. And that is up to God. So I go because…

(Newspaper article about the plot: http://www.nation.co.ke/News/US+embassy+warns+of+fresh+Nairobi+attacks/-/1056/1392164/-/i0s5ohz/

(Now music from Jaws should start playing in the background) And that’s just what I did. OMG you have to be kidding. Seriously? What happened to the nice little dot of a scar? I have been sliced and diced.It’s the ickiest thing I have seen on me ever. And as I look at it all I can think of is the rehab this is going to take.
So, the moral of the story is don’t fall and break your leg in Kenya. Don’t expect an ER doctor here to want to look at anything but the one thing he does (remember I don’t do knees) and be sure you know exactly how much cutting they are going to do.

Keep the faith Y’all

Of course I have had this surgery before, so I know what to expect blah blah blah, but the rules darling the rules.So I have no clue when we’ll have our little chat, but it will happen. And the knee will be fixed asap. Wait till they hear what I want them to do.I have my rules too. I’ll get back to you on that next week.

So dear machete man, you truly gave me a gift that will hopefully stop giving after Thursday…and then the rehab…and then guess what? I’m on my way back to Kenya.

Keep the faith y’all

I So Dirty My Dirt is Covered in Dirt

Yeah and I’m a crispy critter too. So much for SPF 30, there’s no fighting the Kenyan sun. You only have to be out in it 15 minutes to fry, so I will be a dermatological dream again.

I am constantly telling my clients that they must surrender ego, that it is always up to the universe to make things happen. Old ego and I had a real smack down today. We were supposed to get to Malanga at 11A, then it was changed to noon, but we didn’t get there until 2P. That made me crazy since I, of course, was on time. But it turns out the KMET van broke down, Monica didn’t really know her way and wasn’t traveling with us and well it’s Kenya. By the tie we got there folks had been sitting waiting since 8A. And to make things worse the headteacher, Maloba, had told the new school we would be there by 11A. So we were pissing people off all over the place. We had to apologize at Malanga, then we had to split up so some of us could go and placate the new schools while the others worked out the exit plan at Malanga. Suffice it to say ego did not like where this was heading. Ego likes things organized, ego anticipates problems and leaves time for them, and ego was really snarky.
I went to the new school ,Nangina. By that time it was 3P and they had been waiting 6 hours. I felt terrible and apologized as best I could but they were still not having it.
So I got Francis to go to the car and get a bag of sweets that I always carry for the kids. In this case I needed to sweeten the mood of the parents and passed out the lollipops. I had to make a joke of it and they seemed a bit better.

But you know you’re in trouble when there are no speeches and few introductions. And the dancing girls were no where to be seen. The KMET team was first up and gave their schpiele for the first 30 minutes. We covered micro-finance, nutrition and partnership. We were missing a lot of the team cuz they were back at Malanga.

And then it was Mama OVAAT time. And something miraculous happened, it wasn’t’ about me anymore. It was about them. It was about building a team, a partnership. It was about telling them how much I believed in them and that with a little push they could make it on their own. I asked them if they would join our team, team Nangina and they said YES!! And then the old cheerleader or preacher in me broke out and I got them chanting yes we can and passed out faith bracelets to everyone of them so they could identify as members of the team and they were united and it was glorious and it was all about God not that dirty little ego. It was truly amazing grace.

We broke for a quick lunch (which I always avoid). I’ve gotten so good at it I take out my diabetic kit and prick my finger at the table, then shake my head and say sorry the number is not right for me to eat that. (trust me I don’t care whether it’s 80 or 180 it’s “never right”). So after a few handfuls of rice I want to see the children. The children breathe life back into me as surely as water lifts a marathon runner. Maybe it is runner’s high.

We finished at 5P and went to the lovely Blue York. Dinner and review of the day followed by no internet and very little electricity. No matter, since I’m so dirty I’m totally ok with washing with cold water. I didn’t have a choice really,
What always continues to amaze me is the teamwork that happens with the KMET crew. As I reflect on the day, and I see how they work as a team, reflect on the good and the bad and plan the next day I know I am with a group of remarkable people. Everyone is equal and respected and while sometimes it is not the most efficient process, their staff is dedicated, inventive, and a delight to work with.

So I end the night in grace and for that I am grateful. I’ll post this when I can.
Keep the faith y’all

Today we drive the Great Rift Valley. I don’t remember when exactly I started driving the Rift instead of flying. Probably when I smartened up and realized that a. it was much cheaper and b. it brings me to my heart home as I travel the different climes that are the Rift. First we hit a crest and look down on the long fertile valley, then we pass through miles of tea and coffee plantations, and then into the orange roads that signal the small towns teeming with people, farm animals roaming the streets and mounds and mounds of produce. Potatoes stacked in pyramids, onions, tomatoes. As we move further on we get to the villagers carrying great stalks of banannas and finally pineapples. Poverty abounds, naked children playing in the dirt, tall regal women with huge loads of sticks or water in jerry cans atop their heads, and everyone is walking by the side of the road.

Once in a while we see a private car like our own. But mostly it is the lorries and crazy matatu drivers (these are Toyota fans which are supposed to seat 9 but are often crammed with as many as 20 in them). The matatus are usually the culprits in the horrendous vehicle deaths that run rampant on the roads. A couple of weeks ago 25 people were killed because a Matatu tried to outrun a lorry and didn’t make it. I used to drive in those when I first started here; but even I gave up as they were so incredibly dangerous. Sometimes you see a boda boda (bike carrying someone for money). Life can be very cheap here and it is taken for granted that road deaths occur regularly. I don’t ride boda bodas either.

I am anxious to get going. Francis shall be here fairly soon given the traffic and what he has to attend to at home. I will film some of the Rift and post it for you.

rift click to see the film

I have officially been spooked by the security. I have checked out and had 3 bags. I left my black briefcase on the couch in the lobby while I went to the loo. It was scooped up immediately. Then,I got questioned by the guard as to whether it was mine. And since Francis is late, I decided to go to the ATM to get some cash. Again, I was questioned by 2 guards about my walkabout. And then another at the bank and then I was frisked to get back into the hotel. Yeah, who says they’re not worried?

Catch you in Kisumu

It was a glorious though bumpy ride to Kisumu. I have attached some un-edited film of our ride. We go from the very arid rift where the Masaii tend their cattle to the vast tea plantations in the valley and along the way meet some interesting fauna.

monkey click to see my new friend

I am glad to be back. Exhausted, the ride takes 6.5 hours, and it’s really hard on the back, but pain killers are a wonderful thing. Monica and I met for dinner and have mapped out the rest of the week. I am excited by the new steps they are taking to join resources with us and get more schools up and running in a year. Tomorrow I’ll see a proto-type, but the partnership between Monica and I is truly one the masters had in mind.

It is thundering like mad outside. I pray we don’t lose electricity until all my cameras, phones, and computer are tanked. Francis is going to do some serious filming tomorrow. I hope to bring you Monica tomorrow night if even in the un-edited version. Her words will speak for themselves.

And now dear campers, I’m going to read while I still have some light before we lose power. It’s a matter of an hour or so.

Keep the faith y’all
rift

1. There’s a guard at the end of the hall. He stays there all the time. There are metal detectors and 3 guards at the main door as well as guards outside.
2. I was supposed to meet with my friend Beatrice today, but she is in a meeting until 4P. I asked her to meet me for dinner, but it’s not safe for her to travel at night
3. I told Francis we need to go to the Market at noon. When I called him at 11:30A to see if he was almost here, he hadn’t left home yet. So it will now be closer to 1P before we can go.
4. I’m supposed to meet Douglas at 3P. Now I would be late for that meeting if I went to the market, but it’s ok because I haven’t heard from Douglas so if we meet it will be much later if at all.
5. And then there’s eating which doesn’t seem to follow any schedule. So my planned lunch with Beatrice is gone, tea with Douglas is a question and I had breakfast at 8, but I guess like peeing, it’s nuts and water till 6P now.
Now guys, this is just how it works. No one is being rude or disrespectful. They say yes to everything and then figure it out as they go along. Francis clearly had something he had to do today and didn’t want to tell me, cuz he’s being paid by the day. So he’ll just be late. And Beatrice, she loves me as a sister, but her community where she lives, her church etc. are all very important and she just figured she would fit it in. Douglas…well Douglas is an anathema but maybe I’ll meet with him and maybe I won’t.

Oh yeah, and one more thing. Francis kept one of my suitca

Is it really almost 10 years since my first time in Siaya?  Imagine! (the Kenyans say this word with such emphasis it loses a bit in the translation). I went to Kenya that first time on complete faith and trust that my guardian angels and God would watch over me. I had met 2 ministers in Addis Ababa and was flying back to Africa to meet them.

One lived just outside Nairobi, and the other lived in Siaya. I knew nothing of either place, but Siaya was really out there. I flew into the tiny airport in Kisumu and was met by Mama Daniel and her brother, Ben.  I had no idea where I would be staying or what I would actually learn, but so like a freshman in college, I was up for it.

The history of Siaya is contained in the blogs of long ago. I am in awe that people had enough faith in me stateside that they raised the money, developed One Village at a Time into a non-profit and never knew how little I knew. It was, as they say, the Beta project. It ended very very badly. People in Siaya were pissed and so were my brother and sister-in-law whose daughters had gone over to get caught up in my debacle.  It wasn’t pretty.

Now, now I know the importance of so many things including good partners on the ground. I know how things work in Kenya (as much as anyone can). Our program has developed into something truly remarkable. We have gone from a rag tag feeding station in Siaya feeding 26 kids for $4000 to feeding 2000 kids for 6 months for the same price. And we are improving their lives and their parents lives. It’s a real macro approach.

Nambale is graduating 2 schools, a new one will enter to partner with the one we took in last year. And I am going back to Siaya. Funny how things work. Monica had asked me to work in her home village and of course I said yes. Then she told me it was Siaya. I must admit I blanched, and I am hoping they don’t string me up when I come back into town. I’m thinking that if I’m riding with Monica and Francis it will be ok.

So come with me now dear readers as we travel back to where I began.  It’s going to be a really cool journey and I promise to tell all the truth, not just some of it. And in the end, hopefully, you will know me and why I do what I do.

Keep the Faith Y’all.