Seventh Day Adventists and More...

Jambo!

I’ll start off with a story about how one of the guards who works on our compound, tried to convert me. He is a Seventh Day Adventist. And I guess they are supposed to try to convert everyone they meet. Anyway, this guard just started working for us a few weeks ago. He is VERY quiet, so other than greetings, I really hadn’t talked much to him. I talk to the other three guards a lot because they are all very talkative, but I never know what to say to this one because we have a hard time understanding each other because of the language barrier, and he’s so quiet that it’s just awkward. Anyway…

I got locked out of the house for a few hours this past week, because the lock broke. I had to wait for Betsy to come home with a hack saw so we could cut it. We were both under the impression that she was about to come home, except that she was with other people, and she didn’t end up heading home for over two hours. So I was stuck outside, with Benard, for three hours altogether. And it was maybe the most awkward three hours of my life. He tried to make conversation a couple of times, but it was the most random things that I truly did not even know how to respond to. Like, he told me what time he had gotten up in the morning. What do I say to that? I think I just said, ‘Oh!’. And then tried to play a game on my phone. Now, even though my compound is pretty large, I had to stay with Benard because it was pouring outside. I couldn’t do work in the shamba because I was already freezing, and getting rained on would have made me even more freezing. So I stayed on our front porch, since it has a roof, as did Benard. So, after a couple attempts at small talk, he launched into trying to convert me. He asked me if I believed in the Sabbath. And I thought, oh no. I knew it was coming. So I tried to just let him talk, so I could politely listen, and then I planned on going back to playing that game on my phone. But rather than just telling me what he believed, he kept asking me what I thought, and so I had to answer him. And when I did answer him, he would laugh at me! And then he told me that if I don’t remember the Sabbath, then that means I can’t remember Jesus, and that means I can’t get into the kingdom of heaven. He would throw these verses at me, completely out of context, then ask me to respond to him. So I would, and again, he would just laugh. Finally, when I responded to the last thing he said, he said he didn’t have an answer for that one. I don’t even remember what it was about, but that did make him stop talking. I usually don’t get offended at all when I talk to people who believe differently than I do, and I am not into arguing about things at all. But he was just egging me on, and I couldn’t believe that he would choose that topic as our first conversation! I was so offended. He said I need to go to a temple on Saturdays, and I need to study the Bible. First of all, I do not need to go to a temple on Saturdays, and, second of all, I do study the Bible. Goodness. Plus I was freezing, and I just wanted to go in the house the whole time to put a sweatshirt on! And that morning, we were all talking about how we need to love all people. That was running through my mind the whole time I wanted to hit him. So I did not hit him.

Here’s another story for you. I was eating lunch with Caroline, my friend who comes to do our laundry, and help out a little with the house. And she said she has friends who live right behind me. They saw her leaving our gate one day, so they began talking with each other. And then they asked about me. Because they said I was not a ‘normal mzungu’. They told her that they sit outside on the street and watch me when I’m in the shamba! (My shamba is surrounded by really high hedges, but you can see through them a little.) They said they see me go to the shamba, take off my shoes, and start digging like a Kenyan! And then they told her I do a good job, and I dig the right way. Caroline was laughing the entire time she was telling me this. I was so embarrassed. I do not like being watched, although I am glad they said I dig the right way. I think that maybe they watch me because they are used to seeing white people hire Kenyans to do that kind of work. They don’t typically see a white person trying to live the same way Kenyans do. I think a lot of white people hire Kenyans, in order to employ them, so they can make some money. So they are trying to do a good thing. But the more I learn of this culture, I think Kenyans appreciate when you step into their shoes, more so than separating yourself from them, and employing them. Like, when Caroline is working, I often will work with her. I don’t want her to think that she’s just a hired hand, but I do know that she doesn’t have a job, so she needs to earn money.

Kenyans also just like to stare when they see something they're not used to. I understand I am in another culture, and apparently they do not think that staring is rude. But I don’t know that I can get used to it! They truly just stare at you sometimes. When Betsy and I first moved in, children and adults would come to the gate and stare at us! They would just watch us (they could see us through our kitchen window), and our guard would have to tell them to leave! I KNOW I am white, but I don’t understand why that is so weird to them. And even when I am on a piki piki, other bikes will pass us, and they actually turn their heads around to stare as they are driving forwards. That just isn’t safe.

But apart from all that, I truly do appreciate when Kenyans tell me I am becoming Kenyan. I have heard that from so many Kenyans because I work in the shamba, and because I try to speak Kiswahili as often as possible. They really are surprised by this, but they seem to love it. My friend James, who is teaching me how to garden, always tells me I’m not really a mzungu anymore.

On to my Swahili teacher…he and his family are doing okay. Please continue to pray for them. Daniel Juma reminds me of George Mueller. I didn’t know until last week, that they actually struggle so much with money, that there are times they do run out of food, and they don’t know where the next meal will come from. This past month was the first month they borrowed food from someone (I didn’t even know they ran out of food), but he said they will never do that again. I think something bad came of that, and so he said he’ll never take that route. But he so much wants to provide for his family! He, his wife, and his older sons truly do a lot of work to bring in money, it’s just that it’s so hard to bring in much money in this area. Plus, this culture is so hospitable that, even when they barely have anything, they offer it to others! Last week, he invited me back to his house on a Sunday afternoon because they had a team from America visiting them. They knew a few people on the team, which is why they wanted to visit Juma and his family. And they all did extra work to provide chai and sandwiches for this group! And there were a lot of people! I couldn’t believe it when Juma told me that after they left. Although, he just told me in conversation, like it was no big deal.

I think this is the last story for this blog…When Juma invited me back to his house that afternoon to meet the team, I was wondering why he did that. Because I didn’t know anyone on the team. But I went because he asked me to. He told me why he invited me after everyone left.

He said there was a woman on that team whom he had met last year. She had wanted to help the family, so she asked if Anastasia (Juma’s wife) could do her laundry, and this woman would pay her for that; then Anastasia could make some income. Juma said that this is a good idea, and this is what most white people do. But he wanted to tell them about me. And that’s why he invited me.

When we were all sitting together, when the team was there, they all introduced each other, and Juma talked about his family and how he and his wife started taking in children. And at the end, someone asked who I was. And Juma said he was just about to get to that. And then he went on to tell them who I was. He said that most white people here try to find ways to employ Kenyans in order to help them. But he said I am different. He said I am the only white person who goes to church with them (they meet in their house), and this is a huge encouragement to them. He said that instead of me asking his wife for help with my laundry, I go do their laundry for them. He told them that one day, when he walked onto their compound, he saw all these clothes on the line. So he thought his wife must have spent a long time doing laundry that day. But his wife and children told him that I did the laundry. So he went to look at the clothes, and he said they were so clean! Then he told the people, ‘in your country (America) you have machines that do you laundry for you. And Alyson isn’t used to washing with her hands, but she did such a good job’. He said that I do these things, and I don’t expect money. And I want to help them, instead of me wanting help from them.

He wanted me there and he said those things to that group of people to show that woman (that he met last year), another way to help Kenyans. You don’t have to employ them, you can just become like them. He said that to all of them. That I ‘am just one of them’. That I am a challenge to them, because they don’t know what to do with me, because no one has done this for them before. And he said that after the meeting, that woman came up to him with tears in her eyes, and offered to help them with some work during the week. Juma said he knew his point was driven home. I was stunned that he wanted me there for that reason.

Truly, I don’t feel like I do a whole lot for that family. They are so good to me, and they love me so much, they treat me like a part of their family. But they don’t have to, they choose to. I just do a little laundry for them once in a while, and honestly, when I have to leave, it barely seems like there's a dent in the laundry pile. That’s not even a big deal, considering all the work that they have to do on their own on a daily basis. They don’t hire help, which is why I offer to go over to help. Number one, I am thankful that God has given me this opportunity. I would not be here, with this family, if it wasn’t for all that God has done. Number two, my father has a true servant’s heart, and my mom has great work ethic. They taught me to do these kinds of things. Number three, Paul and Jayne hammered it into my head to just live in Kenya, like a Kenyan. To just be with the people here. Juma’s family has allowed me to be with them. I hope I don't sound like I'm bragging in telling this story. I tell it so that my parents know the kind of impact they have had on me. They are the ones who taught me how to serve. And I tell it so that Paul and Jayne know that I was listening to them when they taught me millions of things about living in Africa. And it is an encouragement to me to know the affection this family has for me. They are very, very good to me. I do thank God for bringing me here.