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.