Baby Steps

America is my home. No matter what I'm thinking or feeling about being here, it's my home. I'm back living with my mom for now. I was lucky enough to find a job very fast and now I need to figure out the best way for me to live my life happily.  I want to go back to Kenya. I would get on a plane right now if it made any sense to do that, but I know that it doesn't.  Luckily, MVA Kenya (the program I was working with) is sending all of the unused money to the Diocese of Nevada. I'll be talking with the Bishop early next week to figure out what to do with it.  I hope that it can be saved so I can return to finish the work I still feel I'm called to do. Just because things did not go exactly as I'd hoped or planned, they are not over and I am dedicated to this mission, and dedicated to the work I've been called to do. This time it didn't work out, but I'm going to try again. I'm taking baby steps to get myself back in the swing of things on the American side. Hopefully I'll be able to visit Reno soon to share my experiences and successes with the people who have supported me with this. I have a lot of pictures and a lot of really great things to share. I will go back to Kenya because it is home for me now too. I'm allowed to have 2 homes, and so I do.

Exodus

Exodus 3: 7-10
Then the Lord said, ‘I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.’

I am leaving Kenya. In fact, I have already left Kenya. I am in Amsterdam (with my passport this time) and I'm downright devastated to be here. I was supposed to be in Kenya for another 6 months. Things in Kenya had started to go terribly wrong. Al-Shaabab is a horrible group doing horrible things and it turns out that MVA Kenya, although they do really good work in the community, was not a good fit for me. I have done wrong and I have been wronged. It is all wrong. I have at times felt like a slave in Egypt and at times felt like the one causing the suffering. Now I have been delivered from my placement there. Maybe delivered isn't the right word, but I'm trying to be positive. I guess I'm now going to the Promised Land, wherever that is. I really just feel like I'm wandering the desert. Hopefully it won't take me 40 years to figure out where I'm going. I don't know who Moses is in this story, but I'm pretty sure that if anyone thinks they are, they probably aren't. I am definitely not Moses. God is teaching me something, and I'm trying to listen, but I just don't know what to think or do.

I wonder if the Israelites were sad to leave Egypt, even though it was a place of great suffering. I mean they had lived there for so long that it probably still felt like home. And even though they were being forced to do things, they still probably accomplished pretty great things. You know what I mean? I feel that way. Even though it was unsafe and often unhappy for me in Kenya, it felt like home. I have never felt like someplace was so right, like I did with Kenya. Kenya is my home. Yeah I just said that. Weird right? I did really cool stuff there too, even if it all got pretty messed up in the end, I'm still very proud of what I've done in the library and as far as encouraging kids to love books. I think I've done good work. It's too bad that it all had to end this way. I'm in the desert all right, but the Promised Land is out there waiting for me. I just need to keep listening to my heart for the whispers of God to lead the way. I will get there. I have to.

I Have Become the Stereotype...

I am a librarian. I pester kids about returning their books, I tidy up the library every morning and every afternoon, I write out fine slips and type up book lists. I sit with kids when they come to the library. I do it all. I am the super librarian at School of the Nations. 

Librarians are seen so often as hard faced old women who love books more than anyone in the world and who are mean about making people return their books and heartless about fine collection. Yeah I get that. I am that. But I understand now why librarians are like this. It has nothing to do with a hatred of children. I love kids with all of my heart, I just want kids to have access to every book possible. I want them to dive into the world of literature and it bothers me when kids don't bring back their books because it's like they are stealing that book from the other kids. Is that weird? Yeah kinda, but I don't care. This is their library and they need to share.

Over the last 2 months I've been working on making this library a fun and inviting place where kids want to hang out and spend their free time. It was hard at first because the boards had been up for years, and the format of the library was cluttered and dysfunctional. Not anymore!! Super Librarian to the Rescue! I have replaced all but one board and have moved every single shelf to make this a more livable and inviting place. I have also worked really hard to give the kids ownership of this room. Let me show you what I've done :)

This is the reference section. This section did not exist before. It was really all over the place. The short book shelf is one half of the Kindergarten reading corner. I will tell you about that map later cause it's my favorite part of this library.

This is the Non-fiction section (it was crammed onto one bookshelf before, now it has 3) and little reading table for the few kids who don't want to sit on the ground or on the cushions.

We all have our favorites. Roald Dahl is mine. We only have 3 of his books, but they have already gone through like 8 kids since I put this up. The kids can't get enough!

This is the study corner. The learning support teacher brings her kids in here often for a quite and not so distracting place to work. She used to have to sit right in the middle of the flow of student traffic from the outside to the computer lab. Not anymore! You can also see the games corner. We only have chess and checkers, and they are only allowed to play during break and lunch time. Library time is for books.

This long row of book shelves is Upper Primary Fiction on one side and Lower Primary Fiction on the other. My next project is to make this more true. The books were divided in a very subjective way and you can often find very primary chapter books on the Upper Primary side. It's really great to have a real fiction section too. It was all over the place when I arrived as well. The 2 brown boxes by the door are where the kids return their books from home. We are still working on the culture of returning them on time, but we are definitely getting there :)

You remember how I said that the fiction books are little mixed up. This board was put up in hops that kids will branch out and really try to read a book that challenges their minds. There has been progress, but I think this is one of those constant battle types of things. 

Kids need help some times, and this board has most of the teachers making recommendations for their students reading levels. It has also given the kids a little bit of inspiration. Most of these books have been checked out at least once.

Aww.... The map. All of those little slips of paper represents one of the students. It has their name, their year number and their family's country of origin. Then a string runs from their name to the country. It is so cool and totally kid friendly. You can pull of the strings and they don't go anywhere and you can find yourself and all of your friends. The little kids that are used on this were colored by the kids in Year 3. I think this is one of the most important things I've done to build that ownership I was talking about.

and every classroom needs the alphabet ;) 

I love this school and I hope that the things that I've done to try and help really do make an impact on the literacy here. The things I've done are little, but I hope the results are big. I am a librarian and I know now why we are the way were are. I also know now that I just want this library to feel like the ones I grew up in. All through middle school I spent my lunches in the library because I liked it better than sitting around gossiping with friends. Does that make me a nerd? Yes, I believe that it does.

Terrorists are terrorizing

God terrorism sucks. It really just needs to stop. Islam is such a beautiful faith with so much to offer this world. Terrorism should not be one of them. Does throwing a grenade into a crowed night club or a bus stop make you a more faithful person? Nope, it does not. It makes you Al-Shabab. If you have no idea what I'm talking about read this.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-15467507

I wasn't sure I wanted to post this because I feel like it might just make people freak out, so please don't. I know that you worry about me, and that's why I love you guys. I also know that trouble has a way of finding me, even when I am far from it. This time I'm close. These things have now happened in the town I live in. I have not been nearby, but it's close in the grand scheme. Americans and people who Al-Shabab thinks are Americans have been kidnapped, but that is mostly near the border with Somalia which I'm about as far from as you can be while still being in the same country. Kenyans are watching out for these people. They don't want them here either. I heard some guy on the radio say that if they wanted to attack Americans they could go ahead, but stop making everyone else miserable. I only felt sad. I don't want to get blown up or kidnapped any more than the next person. Luckily that sentiment has not been echoed by anyone I know. I'm not sure what else to say except that I would love your prayers and I promise to keep my head down and not go looking for trouble. 

The Masai Mara

There are some places in the world where things are just more.  More beautiful, more massive, more green, just more. San Diego's Zoo Safari park does a really good job of making it feel like that, but it's not.  I don't care how beautiful the setting, those animals were still captured and moved to a place where they don't actually belong.  They belong in the Masai Mara. Period.  San Diego can't hold a candle to the actual birthplace of these beautiful creatures. I know, because I've now been to both.

I'm a little tempted to let the pictures speak for themselves, but I'll give you a some commentary :)

These zebras were engaged in an epic battle.  As you can see, one of them is bleeding badly and it's likely this fight will carry on until on is dead or they just give up. Unfortunately, the injured zebra is now super vulnerable to predators like the lion. Guess that's the price you pay for love.

I was so lucky to see a cheetah at all, but I was even luckier to see it enjoying this Thompson gazelle. This trip has given me a new appreciation for the circle of life. It's so interesting to really see it in action.

 Giraffe's are so vulnerable when they drink water and they can only do it for a minute or two at a time. I think you can see why.

You know that scene in The Lion King, right before they start the wildebeest stampede.  Yeah, I was there. I was literally surrounded completely by these animals.  They are so funny.  Did you know that they hang out with zebras because they have terrible eyesight.  Zebras can see pretty well and when they run from a predator the wildebeest follow. Now that's friendship right there.

Um... hippos are officially my favorite part of this trip!! Holy Hippo they are HUGE.  Here there are at least 20.  We even got to get out of the car to get closer and better photos.

This is my favorite tree from the whole trip. I was really hoping to see a leopard, but never got the chance.  This is the kind of tree that leopards just love!! I totally get it.

My safari buddies and our drive/guide Peter. Super great people to do a trip like this with.

Now, welcome to Maasailand.  These are some of the people who live in this place.  Some worked at the camp I stayed at and some just lived nearby.  They are beautiful.  Can you see why the Maasai are just truly incredible?

I feel like I woke up this morning and wondered if this was real life.  Then I looked at the pictures again. I guess it was.  I am so grateful that I got to share 3 days with the world most amazing and interesting animals and people. I love Kenya. I love it, I love it, I love it.

Shirt on the Roof

Culture is a funny thing.  You can grow up in a place where it makes perfect sense for everyone to own one or two or three cars.  In America that seems like a perfectly acceptable thing. In fact, it even makes you better in some ways.  It shows that you can afford to have an excess of these things. On the other hand, it is totally culturally acceptable in other places to buy all of your meat at an outdoor market.  In America, you would probably walk past an outdoor butcher and think about how gross it is (I do) and proceed to the nearest grocery store, but not here.


I learned the other day about a cultural practice that really got me going.  This is the first one that I was really shocked by.  I know that there are things that happen here that I don't agree with and that is probably just because I grew up somewhere totally different, but this one was a shock to me.  The person who was telling me about it just thought it was funny that I got so upset, but I don't really think it's funny. Basically, the idea is that if you are some guy and your neighbor dies and you really thought his wife was the bees knees, you could inherit her. I think inherit is the wrong word, but that's what the teller of the story said.  I think a better word might be acquire. All you have to do is throw your shirt onto the roof of this dead man's house while at the funeral.  AT THE FUNERAL, PEOPLE!!! Seriously!?!?! I am not kidding you.  I was totally thrown by this.  I felt so feminist in this moment that I felt like burning a bra right there... but I restrained myself.


Let me also say that I get it. I get that women in village culture, especially if they had a husband who did all of the money earning, would have a really hard time supporting themselves after their spouses death.  I get that culturally it is then the village's responsibility to help support her and the easiest way to do that is to have her remarry.  But come on! The person telling me this said that sometimes there are many men who come to the funeral with shirts over their shoulders and they walk around the house trying to find the best way to toss it up there. Whatever happened to love? What happened to personal choice? I don't know, but I do know that at least in this case I am really  glad that I'm an American. Luckily he also said that this practice is a dying one. I can't say I was disappointed.  I feel like it's a lot like arranged marriages; they work just fine, but no one is really very happy about the situation. I choose love. I choose choice. I think most people would too given the opportunity. 

Pepsi or Coke?

Decisions... decisions.  The Pepsi or Coke issue in Kenya is such an easy one.  There is only one place that sells Pepsi and it's expensive.  Good thing I'd choose Coke anyway, it's just way better. If only all of our decisions in life were that easy.  This feels good, or tastes good, or looks good and that's what I want.  This week has been about decisions and choosing the bad, icky and ugly.  I have sort of always thought about this trip as choosing the crazy thing and not necessarily the smartest or most conventional.  So you'd think that I was better at choosing the harder option. Not so.  I am a human.  Humans make mistakes. 


Thank God that humans also understand other humans or I would be in a lot more trouble than I am.  My biggest mistake this week was calling someone a jerk.  In America if I said, "You're a jerk" many hip young people would think of the New Boys and say, "I know." and maybe have a good laugh, because although it can be a somewhat disrespectful word, it's not like using some other choice words.  It's very mild as far as insults go. In Kenya it's pretty much equivalent to calling a person the scum of the earth.  In my defense, I'm new here and had NO idea that's what it meant. But really I have no excuse. I should never have said it in the first place.  In this case I should have said, "you were being insensitive," instead of, "you were being a  jerk."  I made a huge cultural blunder and quickly found myself in a much more serious discussion than I'd intended.


Luckily, humans understand each other and after some time the situation cooled down and although I made a mistake, I hope that it's now forgiven.  Pepsi and Coke are really different, but ultimately I think that in a pinch we would all be fine with either, but when you step into a completely different culture, the choices aren't that easy or flexible.  Allison and I were talking and I think we both agree that the best option is always the hardest and the best path is the roughest.  What a bummer. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just choose the easy, selfish thing and have it magically work out?  But that's just not the way it is.  I think my biggest issue this week is the "what if" game.  What if I decided to do this, or that? What if I chose a different word in that doomed conversation? What if, what if, what if.  I'll continue to have hard choices to make, but I hope that they get a little easier over the next few months as I get to know this role and this place a little better. I hope.   

The Art of Ignoring People

In Kenya, I am one of very few white people.  There are definitely some of us, but there are not many.  There are also a ton of stereotypes that go along with being mzungu (white foreigner).  For instance, there are a ton of people here who just assume that I have a ton of money based on the color of my skin. Or they assume that I can just become their friend and bring them back to America without any problem.  I'm also a blonde mzungu, which further means that many people assume that I speak in a high voice.  Not generally such a big deal, but when they call to me on the street they alter their voices so that it's really high because they think I'll understand them better.  Really it just pisses me off.  All of it does.  Why do they feel the need to yell out "Mzungu, how are you?" from across the street? I really don't get it.  Once this guy behind me just talked and talked and talked to me.  I ignored him completely until he walked around me and he stopped in my path, bent over and said in his stupid fake high voice, "Jambo, how are you?"  I just walked around him and carried on.  

If you know anything about me, you probably have realized that I'm the biggest extrovert ever! I love talking to random people. I think it's fun and entertaining and I hope that at least some of the time it brightens people's days.  But here, that I just not an option.  Just about the first thing Allison told me was to just not pay any attention to people who talk to me.  Thank goodness I'm good at following directions.  The one time I strayed from the course, I talked to the conductor of our matatu (public transportation van thing).  He was so excited that this (stupid) mzungu would talk to him that he just went on and on.  By the time I'd realized my mistake, he knew my name, he'd asked for my phone number, told me we should be friends and he asked if I could take him to America.  This took a grand total of about 30 seconds.  I then just had to try to ignore him the best I could.  I started a conversation with Allison, but he was persistent.  He must have looked like an idiot talking to the back of my head for ten minutes, but whatever.

My sister is a professional at ignoring people, especially strangers.  I am not.  I have actually been thinking about calling her and asking her what the secret is.  I forget all the time to just ignore people because the opposite comes so naturally to me.  Heaven help me when I start understanding more of the Swahili thrown at me. But hey, I'll figure it out.  The last thing that my good friend Magz said to me before I left was not to just trust anyone.  I am so gullible and trust so easily that it worried her.  I have been fine so far and although the learning curve is steep, I am learning this art.  Don't pass me on the street here, I might not even realize you are there :)

School of the Nations

Week 2 here in Kenya.  Is it weird to say that I feel like I've already feel into a little bit of a pattern? I'm just a routine loving person I guess. I can't really help it.  


School of the Nations (I never know whether to put a "the" before that or not...) is where I'm working, but I'm finding that although so many nations are represented, I still just miss mine.  Homesickness is the word this week.  I have been listening to a lot of Owl City this week, especially Fireflies because that's pretty much the best song ever, but there is a line that I feel really describes how I feel. "I'd like to make myself believe that planet Earth turns slowly." Amen to that! I have felt this week like life in America just goes on without me and I get surprised.  How dare you all continue to live normal lives! Of course, I'm kidding, but it is a strange sensation.  I wish it were possible to be here and teach kids about Noah's Ark and still be a part of the goings on in the States.  I keep telling myself that I'm being irrational and silly, but it doesn't seem to help (duh).  I talked to a friend on the phone and I ran out of airtime in the middle of the conversation.  I felt so sad when it happened that I spent the rest of my evening sulking.  Then I realized that there was something really important that I wanted her to know, and that just made it worse.  I have more air time now, but at the time it felt like I wasn't going to talk to her again for ages.  The internet is amazing and I really appreciate how it can keep me connected to my loved ones, but it's just not the same.  There are so many times that I just want a hug and there's really nowhere for me to get one here.  It's just a bummer that I'm here (essentially) by myself.  I would love to have someone here to debrief with about everything I'm feeling.


On the other hand (the) School of the Nations is a great place and I love it! I have always loved working with kids and now I get to do it all the time! Just today I got to teach 5 year olds about Noah and the promise God sends us in the form of a rainbow, and teach 2nd graders art, and get creative for myself, and play silly games with kids during recess.  Some of you will hopefully laugh at this, but I played Big Booty with the kids on the playground and I just kept thinking about how much of a camp counselor I really am.  They loved it though, especially when they got out and had to dance in the middle of the circle.  People here love to dance. They just do it everywhere.  I dance everywhere too, but most people (including my little sister) think it's a little weird and embarrassing.  I feel like I have a whole country of kindred spirits, at least in that way.  Which reminds me that I'm here for a reason.  I am here because God put these people on my heart and I'm here for them and because of them.  Do I miss home? Yeah, you bet I do, but I know that this is where I'm supposed to be.

Just Squint

If you squint your eyes and look at my life in Kenya you might not think too much of it.  My room looks like a room. I have Internet access.  I go to work in the morning.  I eat dinner with my hosts.  I went to the Anglican church on Sunday.  But as soon as you're not squinting anymore.... it's definitely Kenya, not America. 


As soon as I got off the plane my first thought was, oh gosh, I'm not walking straight into the airport, they are driving me there on a bus! And then when I did get in the airport I thought, oh gosh, I don't think there's air conditioning in this building.  And then at immigration I thought, oh gosh, there is nothing really stopping me from just walking though and not stopping.  I could keep this list going, but I think you get the idea.  Every second I was attacked with something new and crazy to me.  Like the traffic! Holy cow! So many people engage in what's called "overlapping." It's like passing, but you can drive on the sidewalk, the median, the other side of the road (who cares if a car is coming that direction), anywhere!  It's so funny! Not to mention that they drive on the left side of the road and cars have steering wheels on the right.  I don't like sitting in the front seat, because it makes me feel really uncomfortable.  


If you squint everything is similar enough for it to be recognizable, but then you open your eyes and it's not at all.  The mataus look like vans, but they are actually the public transportation and they are the worst drivers of all!  Chipatis look like tortillas, but they are fluffier and way more delicious.  Ugali looks like a mashed potato cake, but it tastes more like a mushy corn tortilla.  The prices all look very high (200 shillings for milk?!?!) but 100 shillings is only worth 1 dollar.  I can make international phone calls from my phone for 3 shillings a minute, so 3 minutes is still less than 1 penny.  Imagine that!  The trees look like trees and the birds look like birds, but this kind of wildlife I've only ever seen in zoos.  


Everything is so strange, but everyday it feels a little more normal and home-y.  When I walk to the mall (where the grocery store and phone company and everything is) I have to be careful of overlapping cars and avoid the curious stares.  I'm just going to say it, it's really strange to go from being the majority to being a minority.  Everyone looks at me like I'm from Mars or something.  Is that what it feels like for blacks in America?!?! I sure hope not, because it makes me feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. Maybe someday soon the people I walk past everyday will start recognizing me and STOP STARING! Or maybe it's me, with my crazy, amazed look on my face that I can't shake.  Because I'm not squinting! I'm taking it all in.

Halfway

I'm stuck in airport purgatory; the great in-between.  I am halfway between the life I live in America and the life I will lead for the next 9 months.  Lucky for me, I lost my passport and am now given ample time (while they process a new passport for me) to think about and process my transition in the literal sense as well as in the not so literal.  I am literally moving to Kenya and my stop here in Amsterdam is literally halfway.  This is a pretty cool airport as airports go.  If I have to be stuck anywhere for a nice long time, at least it's here and not say, the Reno airport.  


Not so literally, I am stuck emotionally somewhere between sad and excited.  Sad because there are a lot of people that I already miss terribly. The guy on the plane, Joe, was great though!! Every time I started to cry he just cracked a joke and asked if I wanted to watch another movie!  Then we made fun of them the whole time, it was so much fun!  I'm excited because, well, I'm going to Kenya to do the work I've been wanting to do my whole darn life! But today, mostly sad.  I'm also stuck somewhere between tired and awake.  I mean it's almost noon here, but I've been awake for a solid 18 hours at least by now.  So it feels like I should be awake, but I'm also pretty tired from this crazy day. 


As my other seat-mate was telling me, I need to live in the moment and feel what I'm feeling right now.  I don't get to have this experience over again and I need to be halfway and enjoy it! The great in-between can be such a great place if I could only learn to just be here, instead of trying to get there.  


Right now I am halfway to Kenya.  Emotionally halfway there, and physically halfway there.  But am I really? I feel like I'm just getting started.

Learning How to Fly

Everyone is born with wings and the power to do great things in the world.  It's just a matter of untying the strings that hold you back.  That's what I'm doing for the next 13 days.  Saying goodbye to all of the people who have gotten me here and to all the places that I love.  I get the wild opportunity to fly to a country where there are people starving on every street corner because the rains never came.  Where children never met their parents because they died of some disease that the Western World eradicated decades ago.  Where education is not the first or even the tenth priority on the list.  Does that make them wrong? Maybe you think it does, but I don't.  They know stuff that we can only dream of.  They know about taking care of each other in ways that some Americans can really learn from.  I plan to.  

Last weekend, I untied the string that held me to Trinity Episcopal Church.  Stefani Schatz preached about the incredible hardship of the people I am going to encounter.  Famine and poverty and hunger that we Americans can't even imagine.  I felt motivated to run from the church straight onto a plane, but I guess I'll wait until the 29th.  They prayed for me and then with many hugs and a few things to carry along, they sent me on my way.

I hate goodbyes.  I'm not good at them because I hold on too tightly. I want to stay almost as much as I need to go.  Kenya is where my heart is, but my heart is still really attached to places here.  And there are so many goodbyes left to say!  Denise, Alodie, Mom, Dad, Nick, Sarah, All Saints'!! I don't want to leave you behind. I want to stay with you! In a few days I leave Camp Galilee, my home for the last three months, and go to Las Vegas.  Camp will be a hard goodbye.  They have become my family in a way that I never knew could happen in just a few months. This place is holy that way. Then on the 29th, I get on a plane in Los Angeles and away I go.

Untying strings is harder than I ever imagined.  My wings are getting restless and I'm holding myself back now.  Slowly, one by one, with every goodbye, I get closer to flight.  My dreams are waiting for me, I just need to jump.  Maybe I need some scissors. 

Freaking out

I bought a plane ticket (finally) and now I'm feeling like this is really happening and that I'm really going to go.  I have never been out of the country and I'm freaking out all of a sudden.  I have been planning this trip for what feels like my whole life and I have been fundraising for what feels like half my life.  I now have raised $13,000 and more than 90% of that I've gotten from people who really believe that I can go over there and do something great.  I hope they are right.  I am very excited about my trip and really ready to leave the country and do great things, but sometimes I worry that I'm not cut out for it.  A good friend of mine told me today that God has chosen me to do this and has clearly put a lot of investment in my ability to do it, so he's not going to put me on a plane and then suddenly abandon my cause. It's just not going to happen that way.  I also know that I have a ton of people here in the States who have my back through this no matter what.  I've gotten all 6 of my shots, and I'm ready to go.  I just need little reminders here and there, cause it's a scary thing I'm undertaking.

Join Me on the Journey!

Welcome to my blog. I will be writing about my mission trip to Kenya. I have been looking at plane tickets (although I cannot buy one until later this month) and I am fairly certain that I will be leaving on August 29th.  For some reason the tickets that day are cheaper than any day that week.  The strange thing is that I will be leaving on Monday and I won't land in Nairobi, Kenya until Wednesday! That just blows my mind.  I have never been out of the United States in my life, so I am very green when it comes to all of this.  


Why am I going to Kenya? Good question!! I am going to be working with a program called Missionary Village Aid Kenya (MVA).  MVA was started by Emanuel Kasio, whom I met at a Nevada Diocesan Convention a long time ago.  He is an African Anglican and I'm Episcopalian (same thing), so we have a lot in common religiously.  MVA however is much more humanitarian than it is religious in nature.  So that means that this is not technically a religious mission.  I, however, consider it a religious mission because it is the duty of a Christian to do work like this.  I decided to do this for spiritual reasons and I am still going to do the work of Christ in the world.  


While I'm there my specific job will be to run empowerment programs with children who live is pastoral villages. They will be primarily Maasai. When kids in these places turn 13(ish) they generally start transitioning into the adult tribal culture.  My goal will be to encourage them to finish their education.  I truly believe that if you are going to save a country from poverty, you need to educate the next generation.  So there you go.


I hope that you will join me in my adventures.  I hope that they are life changing :-)