Assemblies, Servers and 80's pod people

Yes, I am still alive. No, I have not been abducted by 80's pod people as certain facebook comments may seem to suggest. (David Bowie in space!?!) Yes, I have been a negligent blogger. We've had network problems at the school, and our resident IT man has a habit of coming into the office, saying, "I know the problem. I will fix it in an hour." and then disappearing for three weeks. I have come to learn that "I know the problem. I will fix it in an hour," is African for, "I have no idea what's wrong and I'm too embarassed to tell you."

So, this is not a long newsy post, but it will show a bit of what I have been up to. Every Monday morning we have assembly (aka "chapel" to those of you who went to Christian schools in the states). Each week a different teacher gives the main message. I was the first new teacher scheduled to speak. After much freak out, a friend here suggested I play one of my favorite songs, and "Open your Eyes" by Snow Patrol has recently topped the list. So, I put together a windows movie with images and pictures that relate to the verse, Romans 1:20:

"For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse."

Then, I used images and ideas from Chemistry and other sciences to point out some of the evidences of himself that God has put all around us. (Side note: This is why I LOVE chemistry... because of how I see the love and creativity of God when I study an atom.) Then I challenged the students to open their eyes and "see" God in a world where we spend most of our time looking at everything else.

Here is the movie: (I think you will need Media Player to view this file.) (and by the way, those "fuzzy" pictures are the best guess, so far, as to what an electron looks like as it is moving around the nucleus of an atom.)

What's for Dinner?

There were many questions that I was asked repeatedly before I moved to Africa: Will you be coming home? Where will you live? Do they have cable? By in large, the answers I gave to most of these questions were correct. However, I have been surprised by the answer to the question, “What will you eat in Africa?” My answer was, of course, rice and beans. (and yes, we do eat a LOT of rice and beans here. When we get tired of rice (mchala), we eat ugali. When we get tired of ugali, we eat rice, when we get tired… you get the picture.) But, two American girls and a Brit can’t live off rice and bens forever. We start to get cravings… and having cravings can be a bad thing when grocery shopping. (12 bars of chocolate and 4 boxes of biscuits later…) So, we’ve had to improvise and make the most of what Africa can offer.

Fish Heads: that’s right… I said fish heads. When you live next to an ocean, you eat fish. Lots of fish. And not fish that you buy at the store (just ask Lisa about the Prawns). But fish that people catch, lay out next to a busy street, and sell. And that’s how we buy it. You see the fish you like (ooh, weaver…a red snapper…very tasty!) then you tell the man how many pieces (Ninaomba samaki tano. Tafadhali.) and he hacks off some pieces of fish, wraps it in newspaper and hands it to you. We clean it, scale it, debone it, and cook it. (We like to squeeze fresh oranges over it that we buy at the stall next to the fish stall.) But, we don’t often eat the heads… there’s not much meat on them.

Mexican: One of the cravings that we all frequently get is for Mexican food. The only problem is, we live in Africa, where there is no Mexican food. So, when we get a craving for tacos, we have a couple of options:

1. Ignore the craving. (Rice and beans is kind of like Mexican food…)



2. Make tacos using chipotis. (Chipoti is an Indian flat bread that is SO GOOD, but very greasy and not really a whole lot like tortillas.



3. Leave Africa, fly to Mexico, get Mexican food, fly back. (Hmm.. will AIM let us make this a special project for supporters?)



4. Figure out how to make Tortillas.

We’ve tried #1. The cravings don’t really go away. We usually settle for #2 because our “mamas” (our houseworkers) are chipoti pros. But, it’s not really the same. And since #3 is not really a feasible option (we’re having enough trouble getting Tanzanian visas, let alone Mexican ones), one of the first “foreign foods” I learned how to make it Africa was tortillas. To welcome our new short term missionaries in August, we made them a Mexican feast, with tacos (wrapped in my hand-made tortillas), guacamole (avocados are EVERYWHERE here… in Kiswahili they’re called parachichi), rice (of course) and refried beans (red African beans, boiled until we could no longer stand the heat in the kitchen, then mashed with a potato masher.) It was great fun! (and once the tortillas were made, a little salt, a little lime, baked on a cookie sheet in the oven gave us a reasonable facsimile of a Tostito. Reasonable… but not quite close enough. Why couldn’t Lays ship to Tanzania?)

Dinner in Kenya: One of the "Celebration Meals" that some friends and I enjoyed eating in the States was "Dip-things-in-things" night. We made "things" (guacamole, bruschetta, hummos) and dipped "things" (tortilla chips, baguettes, pita bread) in it. We had a sleep over with some friends in Nairobi a couple of nights before we left Kenya, and we "dipped-things-in-things" Kenya-style!

Dinner at a pub across the “street” from us: Really good food… really LONG wait. And lots of Kiswahili practice. They laugh at us when we order Ugali… and they’re even more surprised when we eat it correctly! (Thanks, Deb Liston for the practice. The rest of the girls here have been grateful for lessons.)

Birthday Bash!

On August 27th, I had my first birthday in Africa. Thus began my last year of being in my 20's... and this was the first time in my life ever that I woke up and thought, "I wish it wasn't my birthday." I don't know if it's because my family was so far away, or if I feel like I'm getting old, but either way, I wished it wasn't my birthday.

The teacher's on the compound made it a much better day, though. They all wished me Happy Birthday before school, during school, after school. Then, they threw me a surprise dinner after school with balloons, streamers and LOTS of different types of ethnic foods: Pilau ya Cucu (a spicy chicken and rice African dish), guacamole (a staple at most of our meals) and Texas Sheet Cake (chocolate cake made with coffee). Then, two of the UK girls wrote me a Happy Birthday, Kate song where they found all he words that rhymed with Kate, then spent some time teaching me the correct pronounciation of my "English" words.

That weekend, most of us went to a nearby Beach where we read under umbrellas, played in the water, and walked along the sand. (Most of us got very crispy as well).

Our view of the Indian Ocean. (The island where I learned to snorkel is in the background.)

Helen (one of the new "English" English teachers) and I. We have lots of fun together because we have the same sense of humor, and we share a similar taste in music, movies, etc. (The American's like to accuse me of being a semi-traitor.)

That night, we went out for Ethopian food... authentic Ethopian food. No silverware, family-style, you-can-even-eat-the-plate Ethopian food. The servers sang me a song, made us al hold burning sticks and gave me a free tee-shirt.

One of my housemates and I. This is what the tables looked like...

where they set the BIG plates of food right in the middle of it. (The white stuff is a slightly fermented bread that you use as a "spoon.")

They all made it worth turning 29.

Pineapple and Power Outages

Here in Dar, the electricity is… less than reliable. (To my friends in Zanzibar and the Chalbi Desert, I’m not complaining. I’m just learning a new phrase… add “Africa always Wins” to the “TIA” slogan bin.)



We’ll be at school, and the power will just go off for no reason. (My students in the States used to scream and say, “Yeah, no more school.” But then the power would always come back on.) Here, nobody even skips a beat. The power goes out and you pull your book a little closer to your face, your chair a little closer to the window, and move the now useless PowerPoint projector out of the way.


When the electricity goes off at school, we can count on the fact that the electric will be out on the teacher compound across the street as well. Two days ago, we got home and half of our house had gone out, including my bedroom, the stove and the refrigerator. (We had chocolate for dinner that night… Cadbury and Nutella.) Yesterday, the power was off while we were at school, so we went shopping for fruits and veggies to eat for dinner that required no cooking. By the time team and teacher swim was over, our power was back on. So, we decided to make a semi-Hawaiian-pineapple-tomato-casserole-thing. We had a Cassava root (a tuber that is popular in cooking here because it’s big and starchy, which my housemates thought was a sweet potato when they bought it) that we sliced, fried and layered in the bottom of a cake pan. Then, we sliced fresh pineapple on top, added sliced tomato, gouda cheese and fresh ginger, cinnamon and garlic. (a lot of this was done by candlelight because the power was on, off, on, off… and off again.) The power came back on as we finished, so we put it in the oven and waited… and waited… and waited. Finally, we said, “Okay it should only take a couple of more minutes.” Off again. “Okay… I guess we’re eating it now.” In the middle of dinner, some of the other teachers stumbled their way to our house, using candles and flashlights (torches) and joined our “romantic dinner for two.” On again. Just in time for us to realize that we had burned the plantains because the oven had held the heat.


After dinner, we all headed for bed. As I was getting in the shower, the power went off again. Clare starts screaming, “Help! I’m on the landing! I can’t see anything!” “Umm… I can’t come… I’m, uhh, in the bathroom,” I responded. Clare, being the helpful, caring roommate that she is, said “Okay, hold on.” She groped her way down the stairs to the kitchen and our Emergency candles. I can’t hear much, so I’m stumbling around my own room looking for my lighter to light my emergency candles when I see a strange glow coming from the hallway. It’s Clare, who has gone downstairs and is bringing me an emergency candle! I start screaming, “Stop! Stop!” She thinks something is wrong, so she starts walking faster, “Kate? Are you okay? I’m almost there!” I’m finally panicked enough to scream, “No! Stop! I don’t have any clothes on!!!” After a long pause, in which I’m trying to figure out how to hide behind a mosquito net then giving up once I realize that this is a lost cause, Clare starts giggling. “What?” she exclaims in her ever proper English accent. “I was changing out of my swimsuit when the power went out and I couldn’t see anything to put on.” At this point, we’re both laughing hysterically.


Suddenly, Clare’s phone chirps… it’s one of our teacher neighbors with a text: “I can hear you guys giggling. What’s so funny?”

A Hard Day at School

Last Thursday I cried at school. In the prep room, while my students waited patiently for me in the lab next door, I buried my face in my hands, let the sorrow seep into my heart and gave into anger, fear and frustration. Last year, I was a good teacher. Last year, I knew what I was doing because I had written most of the curriculums. Last year, I was able to make copies when I needed, print when I needed, and I could leave the office and walk back to class without getting rained on. I cried out to God in desperation,” Why did you bring me here? I hate Africa! Why couldn’t I have stayed in Columbus where I knew everything and teaching was easy and I was the best teacher that everybody loved? Why am I here? It’s too hard!” I eventually composed myself, and made it back into the classroom, where I set a bunch of stuff on fire. (Nothing like Chemistry demonstrations to relieve frustrations.)

As I was sitting here this clear, Friday night, relaxing and reading, I had my iTunes playing (Snow Patrol to set the mellow, contemplative mood). When my screen saver came on, it displayed the Family pictures from our most recent Myrtle Beach trip. All the typical pictures were there: sun-burned faces pressed together for close-ups, pairs of hands clasped tightly while feet strolled the boardwalk, and the blurred night time shots from the traditional putt-putt adventure. As the pictures passed in a random pattern, I noticed that in all the pictures I had of Matt and Hannah, she is pressed up under his arm. Her small body is tucked neatly into her father’s embrace, protected and encircled. These weren’t special, posed pictures; it’s just how they sit together. She crawls up on the couch and settles next to him, and he instinctively drops his arm behind her back and encloses her in a secure space.

As I watched these pictures pass, God pressed upon my heart his embrace encircling me. He has brought me here, but he has not left me. His arm is still protectively around me, and he has enclosed me in a secure space. He will guard me, protect me and love me. I turned the music off, went upstairs to the roof and stood… beneath the dark sky, filled with distant lights of planets and solar systems that I will never know or see. But God does. He knows them all, and he keeps me close to his heart, encircled and secure.

Now I am crying for a very different reason.

small Safari at a BIG game park

We had one day off during ABO; lots of classes, lots of studying, lots of mingling... one day off. (They're trying to toughen us up before we get to the field :) Some of us, tired of ugali and sukuma wiki, went back to Nairobi for lunch and shopping. Some of us hiked the rust colored trails through Machakos. Others of us took a couple of Land Cruisers over the bumby, dusty, rocky Machakos road to Swala Game Park. I was one of the game park adventureres. A group of 16 of us donned khaki colored trousers, canvas vests with plenty of pockets, and various styles of fisherman-type hats. (Well, the missionaries who had been on the field awhile adapted such clothing. The rest of us just wore our jeans and tee-shirts.) The game park was once used as the local breeding ground for the Carnivore Restaurants here in Africa. The animals were "grown" as food for the "meat of all meat" restaurants. However, a few years ago the Kenyan government outlawed the service of big game meat at all restaurants. So, it's now a place for "tourists" to come and get their first "taste" of big game sightings in a "Safari-type" setting. (Insert groan due to bad pun here.)

We had lunch at the park (a break from traditional African food) and then set off in our vehicles to find giraffes, zebras (pronounced "Zehbras" by our British co-workers), wildebeasts and warthogs. One of my roomies, Juli, had a life goal to see a giraffe before she died. She definetely checked that one of her list! Mt. Kili here we come...

Giraffes... up close and personal. This one came right up to the car window.

A baby giraffe with zebras in the background.

Lots of impalas. We couldn't get too close becuase they are pretty skittish.

There were LOTS of monkeys in the trees right next to the place where we had lunch. This is a mama and a baby monkey. The baby kept trying to climb higher and higher, but the mama kept pulling him back down to this branch.

Look at the face on this one... so stoic. They didn't quite know what to do with all of us taking their picture.

Candace Gentry and I posing in an antique car that was parked at the restaurant.

Mzuri Monday Madness

Last night, we took a break from language learning and hung out with one of our teams who is working in Nairobi. At a theater nearby, they have a special deal called "Mzuri Monday Madness." (Mzuri is a Swahili word that means "good." For example: Habari? (How are you?) Mzuri. (Good.) ah, Mzuri sana. (Very good.) On Monday nights, you can see a movie and get a hotdog, popcorn and Coke for 380 ksh (Kenyan shillings... that's about $5.80). So, we saw the new Batman movie... the Dark Knight. And two things stood out from the evening...

First, it was quite the experiment in African culture. The movie was supposed to start at 5:50. At 6:20, we stood for the Kenya National Anthem before the adverts. At 6:30, the previews started. At 6:40, the movie FINALLY started. Plus, the lobby was PACKED both before and after the movie. 4 full theaters, 8 movies, 1 door in and out. (and please keep in mind that most Africans don't believe in queues and have no concept of personal space!) One of our group commented, "Good thing there wasn't a fire. We'd have never gotten out!"

Second (and this is the part that gets a little sappy), sitting in the theater, eating a hotdog in a stadium style setting, I was reminded of a time when I was 12 years old. Growing up in Houston, my school district had a special program that if you got straigt A's you got two free tickets to an Astros game. (For those of you who didn't grow up going to Little League games twice a week, the Houston Astros are an American baseball team that plays in the Astrodome... I know it's now called Minute Maid field, but that's lame...) Because I am the classic over-achiever, I got straight A's and received two free tickets to an Astros game... two tickets: one for me, and one for my Dad.

Now you have to understand about the men in my family and baseball. For as long as I can remember, my Dad and my brothers have played baseball. Most of my childhood was spent playing on the dirt piles next to Little League dugouts. My older brother's first sentence was,
"Want your bat, Dad?" They still play Church League Softball twice a week in Cincinnati. Baseball has always been something that bonded the men in my family. But I refused to give my ticket away. I wanted to go to a game. Just me and Dad. And the funny thing is, I don't remember the game... I don't remember who played... I don't even remember if the Astros won! But I do remember sitting in the stands, next to my Dad, feeling very grown up because he bought us hotdogs with EVERYTHING on them: onions, mustard, relish, chilis...everything. I had only ever had ketchup on my hotdogs until that night. But my Dad bought me a hotdog with everything on it, and we ate them at a baseball game... just the two of us.

and a hotdog at a movie theater in Kenya reminded me of it...

ABO in Machakos, Kenya

Traveling to Machakos...7 people in the back of a Land Cruiser

After hours of traveling, days of resting, and minutes of flurried computer activity, my first three weeks in Africa was spent in Machakos, Kenya sitting at a desk, studying. (That's right... the teacher had to go to class!) Our fearless leaders, Lauren and Donna, discussed culture, African worldview, different religions seen in Africa and the value of learning a language with us. We also studied safety and security in "Nai-robbery" versus a remote village and in an I$lamic culture versus an animistic African culture. We all found out that Africa is very different from a Western culture!! (I know, big shock...) For example: In America, you go to the bank and everybody lines up. You file through red velvet ropes, in an orderly fashion, waiting until the person in front of you is finished at the counter before you step up. In an African society, there is no such thing as a line. If you are finished, the next person who is ready steps up to the counter. This may or may not be the person who arrived next. This may or may not be you or the person standing in front of you. You may have gotten to the building first, but you may be the last person to be served. There is no such thing as a line (or "queue" to my lovely "great British" friends) in Africa! and since we live here...we have to be the ones to learn to adjust!

Jeanette teaching Western Children an African dance on Cultural Night

But the real main purpose of ABO (Africa Based Orientation) was RELATIONSHIPS! We were living in dorms with students from all over Africa, meeting with from all over the world. The woman I led worship with is from Germany, the woman I shared my colored pencils with during class is from South Africa, and one of my roommates in Nairobi was from Northern Ireland. We are all serving in different parts of Africa as well. My roommate in Machakos is living in the desert in Northern Kenya. Two of the girls from the dorm are serving with Mu$lims in Nairobi, and a bunch of us have been called to teach TCKs (Third Culture Kids) both in Kenya and Tanzania. It was awesome to be around so many like minded people! 52 people, one heart to serve! and we learned so much about African culture...

Andrea (from Germany), Naomi (from Northern Ireland) and Me on "Safari"

One of the last nights we were there, one of my African dorm mates arranged a cultural night. She had each one of us do a presentation from our respective cultures. We had African songs and dances from MANY different tribes, American worship songs, Irish jigs and stories, and John 3:16 recited in over 15 different languages! It was amazing!

The Scott choir performing on Cultural Night

We also had "work" to do. Each Sunday, we had to attend a different service in the area. This was to give us a first hand look at how Africans worship and the different ways that "church" can look. The first two weeks, my partner, Candace and I went to Machakos Primary Academy where we taught the "junior high" (Primary grades 7 and 8) sunday school class. It was a mixed group of boys and girls who boarded at the school. We had so much fun! Their praise team began each service with acapella singing, dancing and clapping. It was so much fun to watch these 12 and 13 year olds be so uninhibited!

The last week I went with a group of girls to Maasii Boys School. (It's a Primary and Secondary boarding school for Boys...obviously.) These young men are amazing... and truly love hip hop and rap!! Their praise team began with acapella singing, then two of the older boys got up and had a competition... who could write the best rap song! All of the lyrics were written as praise songs, but the beat was entirely Hip Hop! It was amazing to watch 200 young men pump their fists in the air and sing and dance to lyrics like, "Today I'm gonna pray" and "Am I gonna make sin a habit? No!"

We also had many different sessions where we learned more about I$lam. We even visited a Mosque one afternoon.

Ready to visit the Mosque!

The evenings that we weren't in class afforded us time to bond with each other and explore some of Machakos. But those pictures will have to be saved until tomorrow...

Sad news from Home.

Mom sent me an email letting me know that Texas Patches Full of Joy (known as "Patches" to his friends) was taken to the vet for the last time on July 17, 2008. God's timing is always perfect, and Patches was happy and full of energy right up until I said good-bye. I am so grateful that God let me have my last moments in Ohio with him, and that he let Patches spend his last moments with my parents and my younger sister. When I was no longer able to, they loved Patches, took care of him and gave him a home.

The-Middle-of-Nowhere, Kenya

Today we leave for training in Machokos, Kenya. Each day, for the next three weeks, we will have daily lectures on interactions with Africans, how to cook chipote and mendaze, and what are the best Swahili phrases to help you learn the language. Machokos is pretty much in the part of Kenya that has very little internet or email access. So, this will be my last post for a bit. But never fear! I will be back at the Mayfield Guesthouse after July 22 where the internet is prevalent and well-used.
Mayfield Guesthouse in Nairobi, Kenya.

Modern day "servants" sending all their last minute emails to prepare for the field.

Where are we?

This is a question that was asked many times during our travel over the past couple of days.

We (myself and 23 other missionaries) left Newark on Friday, June 27 at 6:30. We flew to London where most of the team continued caught a flight to Nairobi. 5 of us (myself, two other teachers at HOPAC, and a couple and their 2 yr. old daughter) had a 12 hour layover at Heathrow airport. (We were traveling straight to Dar es Salaam because you can carry 70 lb. bags on a British Airways flight, but you can only carry 44 lb. bags on a Kenya airways flight. Our training is in Kenya, so we would have had to ship the rest of our luggage...and you don't ship anything you actually want in Africa. If you want it really badly, customs agents will have you "tip" them for it. And if you don't want it, someone else will... someone else will probable still want it, wether you want it or not.) During our layover, three of us took the tube into the city to have lunch and hang out. Sitting in an airport for 12 hours seemed like a terrifying prospect. We found ourselves in St. James' Park, where we sat on a park bench, and took a very slow walk. We then had lunch in Piccadilly Circus. (The whole time, we were trying not to fall asleep! We just kept nodding off...especially at lunch.)

Back to the airport, 9 hour flight to Dar, 8 hour layover. Luckily, there was a restaurant at the airport this time. By the time we hit the last plane ride, the 2 yr old said, "Plane, mommy?" then she started to cry. We all felt the same way. 1 hour flight to Nairobi and a 40 minute ride to the guesthouse. Finally, after almost 4 days: a bed, a shower, and a change of clothes! (Part of me is very glad that I won't have to do that again for quite some time.)

What's the deal with Support?

Thank you so much to all of you who chose to be a part of my support team! God has been so faithful and I now have more than I need for both pledged monthly support and outgoing funds. All of the excess goes towards my work funds which I can use for special projects or as excess funds when needed.

Now that I am out of the country, any support/gifts should be sent directly to AIM:

AIM

PO Box 178

Pearl River, NY 10965

If the check is made out to AIM, it is tax deductible and goes into my work funds to be used for ministry, etc. If the check is made out to me, it is NOT tax deductible and goes directly to my salary and I can use it however I please.

There is also an option for online giving:

www.aimint.org/usa/online_giving/html and under "Name", simply type "Kate Connell."

Leavin' on a... you can fill in the rest.

Well, this is it... my last night in the States until 2010. The thoughts going through my head right now... how tall Wynter will be when I get back, how Hannah will be potty trained, talking in complete sentences and getting ready to start kindergarten, how I will probably have a lot more nieces and nephews, and about how is it possible that my whole life for the next two years manages to fit in two 70 lb. suitcases and one 36.5 lb. suitcase. (It seems that I should need WAY more than that to survive... especially since my roommate brought 8 bags with her!) But the thought that keeps going through my head is how Jesus told the disciples to take their cloak and go. They had a lot less than 176.5 lb. of luggage! (Correction... 80 kilos! :) So, I'm going... with my cloak, my hoodie, my swimsuits, my first aid kit, my digital camera, my books... Oh, wait. Aren't I supposed to be learning to live a simple life?

Oh, well. I guess I still have a LOT to learn.

Flight times: Friday (June 26) 6:30 pm (Newark to Heathrow)

Saturday (June 27) 7:20 pm (Heathrow to Dar es Salaam)

Sunday (June 28) 3:00 pm (Dar es Salaam to Nairobi for 3 weeks of training)

Please pray for Safe Travel!