Nairobi airport fire

If you've been following the news, you've probably seen photos of the Nairobi airport in flames. The international arrivals hub experienced a major fire this morning.  Besides the obvious concern about the well-being of the many people present at the airport when the fire occurred, we are also wondering how this will affect our Saturday travel plans. Please pray that God, who is sovereign and eminently capable, will provide us a way home.  We are really hoping to come home on Saturday!

Getting amped with Mavuno

A handful of us spent the day with our friends at Mavuno Church.  Man, if you're ever in need of a shot of spiritual adrenaline, Mavuno is the place to be. 

We started off by joining the 9am staff meeting at the central campus of the church.  "Meeting?" youre thinking?  Sounds boring.  But oh, no - boring it most certainly was not. The first 45 full minutes consisted of singing, praying, dancing, more praying, and singing, jamming out to vibrant, jumping (or is that jumpin'?) songs of praise. Did I feel like a goofy white person, trying to keep up with the beat?  Well, yeah - at times.  That's because I am a silly mzungu (Swahili for white guy), but here it really didn't matter.  The Spirit was at work, lowering inhibitions, orienting hearts towards truth, and, above all, making me (and I think my 4 other team members) feel totally accepted and included.   As I reflect on the experience of watching my Kenyan friends singing out their gratitude and joy to their Maker and even joining in myself, it seemed...right.  Natural.  Good.  Appropriate.  Freeing. Fun. Liberating. Healing. Filling.  I mean, think about it - if there really is a God, and He really is responsible for all of the amazing world we find around us and inside us, and he really has come to rescue us in our need, is any other response than joyful exuberance, amazement, and awe-filled singing adequate?  Why wouldn't we engage?

Well, for one, its a bit undignified. But is that kind of dignity and reserve so great?  As I think in my own experiences, that kind of reserve really reflects an excess of self-awareness. This morning, losing myself (a bit) in the wonder of the Great One felt...great. So, thanks, Mavuno, for welcoming us in and sharing with us something of your joy at being made and being saved. 

These guys have big, big faith. And by that I don't mean Disney World kind of faith, where you close your eyes and squeeze and believe in something really ridiculous like fairies (sorry - I hope I didn't just kill a fairy).  I mean a bold trust in One who has a proven track record, and whose words and deeds have impacted humanity like nothing else in history.  Mavuno puts its money where it's mouth is, often quite literally. We visited the site of their newly purchased land, where the 8-year old church is planning on positioning themselves to really impact their community. They go out on limbs in efforts to be faithful to the directives of Jesus as to how to change society around them through love. And they trust that a God who is capable of spinning the whole world into existence can provide the means to share that love boldly and in a big way. 

I'm so glad to be a part of a church that shares Mavuno's joy and trust in the Almighty. And seeing those gifts from God electrifying a community in a totally different context 9,000 miles away from home is pretty intoxicating. I hope I don't come back to earth when I get home!

The future site of Mavuno Hill Cty

Remote Access, Part Mbili (Two)

The medical team completed our second remote clinic of the trip yesterday.  Three teams in one: the mzungu's from Chapel Hill Bible Church, a group of young, medically inclined members of Mavuno Downtown, and the capable team from Beacon of Hope. 

We pulled into Sultan Hamud (here it is on Google Maps) around 4pm. The church we used for this camp was considerably larger than the first, and it was flanked by two mosques that blared slightly off pitch sing songy calls to worship as if they were competing with one another. The barracks we slept in that night, although covered in cobwebs and a little grimy, felt like a Hilton compared with our previous accommodations. At least this one had twin beds with firm mattresses on which we snuggled into our sleeping bags. Rows of mosquito nets were strung up using twine tossed over the rafters.

Around 6pm we turned our attention to transforming the church into a mini clinic. This one came together much faster than our first. We were now relative pros at making 14 exam rooms out of string, bed sheets, and clothes pins. Meanwhile, one of the church members serenaded our efforts with some Kenyan gospel music played through the church's Casio keyboard. Other members of the team turned a one room schoolhouse into our small pharmacy. 

The church clinic from beginning to end. The 3rd photo is while the clinic was in full swing.

After another home cooked meal by the church staff and a team meeting we turned down for the night. Everyone crawled into our beds except Brandon and Noah Wyche who strung their camping hammocks in the rafters and slept alongside the bats. 

The mosques began competing for our attention again around 4am. By about 6am, there were already patients lining up and the clinic didn't start until 8am. We hurriedly brushed our teeth, ate a quick breakfast of fried eggs and triple decker margarine sandwiches, organized the pharmacy, and opened the clinic for business. 

With the aid of several Kenyan doctors and medical officers, excellent volunteers, lab techs, interpreters, pharmacists, and one very tired clown we saw over 500 patients! Despite that volume everything ran smoothly with no major bottlenecks at any point. 

After we packed up the clinic at the end of the day there was a large group of local children hanging around. Since we had some extra candy and stickers we figured they would enjoy them. Little did we know it would start a near riot as the kids scrambled over top one another to get ahold of as many of the goodies as they could. Laura went into stern teacher mode and snapped the kids into a line to hand things out in a more orderly fashion. 

One of the many things Beacon of Hope does well is to identify a major medical need in the population they treat at these camps and then press the government to address this need in that community. We identified several cases of newly diagnosed or poorly controlled diabetes, and Beacon plans to work with the district government and Minister of Health to bring specialists regularly to Sultan Hamud for treatment and screening for this disease. 

It was a blessing to be a part of the Beacon organization for a short time. What a great trip!

And just in case you're keeping score, no zebras were hit on this trip although we did see several herds of giraffes just off the highway. 

Medical team has left for second remote camp

They have safely arrived and are all set up to administer care today (Tuesday). Please pray for the team and the patients. 

Lantana on my mind

Lantana is just about my favorite plant. We grow it in North Carolina as a specialty ornamental, getting it at Home Depot to electrify a backyard with color and to attract butterflies. 

Here in Kenya, it grows everywhere - roadside, hillside, countryside, everywhere.  Somehow it's comforting to me to see such a valued plant in NC as a common occurrence in this beautiful country. 

Forgive me for getting metaphorical for a moment, but after talking with Lorene Tripp about relational poverty (see her post below), this idea just struck me: the lantana is a bit like the rich, abundant relational life of this Kenyan culture.  In NC, I find myself laboring to intentionally cultivate relationships in very controlled and limited ways - purposefully scheduling hangout times with friends and family, controlling and dictating how and when these good things develop, and so forth. Here in Kenya, relational richness runs wild and grows everywhere, filling gaps and taking root wherever it may. The climate suits it. 

Remote Access

The medical team completed a remote medical clinic during our first week in Kenya. We travelled three hours outside of Ongata Rongai to the small Masai village of Bissel, where we partnered with a local church to treat over 400 men, women, and children. 

For two days prior to leaving, we all sat together in a conference room at Beacon of Hope and sorted pills into small single serve bags... Over 25,000 pills later, we were ready to go. We packed up our sleeping bags and backpacks and hit the road. As we left the hustle and bustle of Ongata Rongai, we entered the flat, spacious land of the Masai with the beautiful Ngong hills spreading across the horizon.

When we arrived at Bissel, we spent our first hour emptying the front half of the church of its pews, tying up twine, and hanging blankets to create twelve treatment rooms and organizing the makeshift pharmacy.  Afterward, we split up into groups and walked deep into the Masai village to visit some of the people in their homes. 

We visited an old woman who lived in a 5x5 square foot mud home with her bed and kitchen all in one space. In order to speak with her, we had to walk through in a single file and take turns in her one-room home. Most of us could not stay long in the room because she had a coal burning fire going with only a small hole in the wall for ventilation.  This setup was typical of many homes in the village, and we found a lot of the people in Bissel suffer from respiratory illnesses as a consequence. 

When we got back from the home visits, after eating a hearty meal and doing some logistical planning, we joined members of the local church for a late night service that included lively singing, a conga line, and some dance moves that I'm certain most of us have never done before. We were blessed to join them in worship, even though we couldn't understand the Swahili. 

The next morning, we awoke bright and early and got ready for the influx of patients.  The folks from Beacon of Hope were inspiring with their level of organization and coordination in setting up areas for registration, triage, clinic rooms, an injection and vaccination room, laboratory, eye clinic, HIV testing tents, cervical cancer screening rooms, counseling, and a pharmacy! This whole operation was just a small church and dirt field less than 12 hours before!

At the end of the day, we were exhausted. Over 400 patients came through our makeshift clinic. 10 patients were referred to a local ophthalmologist for cataract surgery, many people were screened for HIV who'd never been tested, and nearly all the children were treated for parasites, which are a leading cause of diarrhea, malnutrition, and dehydration. 

Our perspective of our home base, Ongata Rongai, changed after returning from Bissel. What once seemed foreign, rundown, and impoverished when we first arrived in Kenya now felt like home -  polished and comforting. 

It's clear that the folks at Beacon of Hope, led by Mike Oloo and Jane Wathumi, are doing incredible things with limited resources. However, they never complain or seem despondent about the odds stacked against them and the impoverished people of Kenya. They faithfully trust the Lord to provide everything they need. It's a good lesson for us. Sometimes I think we give in too easily when we come up against obstacles or setbacks, when the money is tight or not forthcoming, or if we fatigue from the effort to do the good work for which we are called. This will be a reminder for all of us that great things are possible through God. 

...and one last thing.  We literally almost hit a zebra on the highway as we were driving home from Bissel. One of our new team mottos: We brake for zebras!

Send in the Clown

Our own Matthew Wright has been making a fool out of himself for whoever will watch - at Beacon of Hope, the remote camp, the airport, out of the van window - wherever. It's opened a lot of doors and made a lot of friends.