Last Thoughts

My time in Kenya was a valuable experience filled with joy, excitement, and love.   My only regret is that I didn't stay longer ( I don't even mind that Fr. Celestino didn't keep me at his luxe pad in Westlands.) In one week, I gained some perspective of an entire culture and made friendships that will be everlasting. I am beyond grateful to my hosts and everyone I met during my stay, especially the children who embodied the very essence of happiness while living in deplorable conditions.

I left Nairobi inspired.  I am inspired to be a better me, live a fuller life, and to always think of those who might otherwise be far from my thoughts.

Before I traveled to Kenya, experienced Nairobi, learned about the government, visited residents of Kiambiu slum, and spoke to children at Holy Trinity's St. Joseph school, I could not imagine how helpless the conditions render the Kenyan population.  Those I met were hard workers, scrounging for work in a country where the government does not enforce the minimum wage.  They do the best they can making $2.00 per day, eating rotten fish, suffering from dehydration, studying in makeshift classrooms, wearing the same uniform to school every day because that is all their parents can afford.  There were no welfare checks issued to the residents I met in Kiambiu.  They received no subsidies for housing in the slums. In a country where the piped water is filthy and many roads are still unpaved, the government could not afford to sustain the living expenses for its disadvantaged even if it cared to.  I came from the land of opportunity to a land where opportunities are only for the lucky or the rich.

Enter Fr. George, Holy Trinity, the worldwide Catholic Church.  Many of my friends were surprised when I took a position at the Archdiocese of Washington, because I am not Catholic...not even religious.  I told them that while I may not subscribe to the same religious beliefs, I do subscribe to the mission of charity.  Wherever in the world I've gone, the Catholic Church was also there, working alongside governments and groups, giving people hope and opportunity, regardless of faith.  Holy Trinity carries out this mission with such zeal and compassion, it made me question why it took me so long to come, why it took me so long to help. 

I left Holy Trinity a very small token of appreciation, and made a commitment to myself to do more.  Those of you who know me well know how I feel about handouts.  The only charities worth supporting are those which push its beneficiaries toward self-reliance.  I only care to help people who help themselves. 

Fr. George uses Holy Trinity's resources to give those in his community the best chance at survival and excellence.  His faithful teachers facilitate learning in rooms of houses and sections of the church hall.  His congregation subsidizes education for impoverished children at St. Joseph and pays secondary school fees for select teenagers from Kiambiu.  He and his parishioners visit the sick, elderly, and downtrodden and provides them with food, medicine, and other things they need to keep struggling toward a better future.  Still, hard working Kenyans line up at his office each week, seeking food, blankets, work referrals, just enough to make it until they can earn another few shillings to make it on their own.

I did not engage in the type of volunteerism I thought I would when I asked Fr. Celestino if it would be appropriate for me to volunteer for one week. Admittedly, I was disappointed with the way things were going, moving from place to place, only getting an overview of the services real workers were providing - not actually doing anything myself.  I was embarrassed by the amount of attention and celebration surrounding me at each place I visited.  I told Peter not to take anymore pictures of me with indigent people.  I wanted to be of service, not a nuisance or distraction (or attraction).  I honestly felt like a useless politician going from place to place, taking pictures and giving talks with no real substance to offer.

Then, it hit me.

The best way for me to be of service was to observe, remember, and call on my friends to help.  By reading my blog, you know my thoughts and experiences.  You know about the remarkable people I met who do the best they can with an often depraved government and little private capital.  You know how they welcomed me and shared what little they had in honor of my visit.

I ask you to share a little of what you have to honor their struggle for life.  

To send a donation directly to PMS Kenya, please use the information below or email Father Celestino Bundi, director of PMS Kenya, at pmskenya@catholicchurch.or.ke.  

BANK NAME – CFC STANBIC BANK

BANK ADDRESS  - P.O.BOX 30550 – 00100 NAIROBI KENYA
ACCOUNT NAME – PONTIFICAL MISSIONARY SOCIETIES
ACCOUNT BRANCH – WESTLANDS – WAIYAKI WAY
ACCOUNT NO -  0100000495276
CURRENCY KSHS – KES
SWIFT CODE – SBICKENX
BANK CODE  - 31000

CORRESPONDENT BANK

NAME – DEUTSCHE BANK AG
SWIFT CODE -  BKTRUS 33
CURRENCY - USD

The physical address is:

PONTIFICAL MISSIONARY SOCIETIES

WAUMINI HOUSE 3^RD FLOOR – EASTERN WING
CHIROMO ROAD
P.O. BOX 48062 – 00100 GPO
NAIROBI – KENYA.

TEL.LAND LINE: +254 4443133

MOBILE PHONE: +254 725 277 277
TELEFAX +254 4442910

 Thank you for reading my blog and helping me make a difference.

My Last Day

11/3/2012

I awoke feeling a little somber this morning.  I should have planned to stay for at least two weeks. :-(

After breakfast, Peter escorted me into town.  Center city is no different than any major city in the United States.  There are hoards of people walking to and fro, some looking very stylish and others disheveled.  I saw the tallest buildings in the country, along with the Hilton hotel where I almost ended up on my first night.  Peter also took me to the Basillica, which is a beautiful building in the same location as Archdiocese of Nairobi.

After our jaunt through the city, Peter drove me back to Buru Buru, where I met children of the Pontifical Mission Society.  After the children performed, Fr. Bundi presented me with a plaque to thank me for
 volunteering.

Click here to see part of the performance.

I said goodbye to the children after the performance and went back to the house to spend a few more hours with my hosts.  The atmosphere was so familiar, just like a family gathering back home.  The smell of food from the kitchen, jokes being made, and stories being told.  Fr. George called a tailor to come take my measurements for the dress he will send to me.  After he finished my measurements in the dining room, Fr. Celestino and Fr. Eddy got measured for suits while I talked to Peter and Fr. Celestino's assistant Mary.  Soon, Fr. George returned from listening to confessions and it was time for dinner and a surprise:  My hosts had only been eating with forks and knives for my sake...this time, Fr. Eddy and Mary dug into their food with their hands!  It took me back to my first night, when Fr. George told me that eating food with my hands would make it taste sweeter.  We all erupted into laughter as Fr. Eddy confessed that he didn't want me to think they were uncivilized...but now he could show his true colors. :-)

After dinner and photos, I said goodbye to Peter, Fr. George, and Joseph and departed with Fr. Celestino, Fr. Eddy, and Mary to a nightclub for drinks and dancing in Eastlands (the side of Nairobi whose residents are widely regarded as more down-to-earth than those from Westlands - also home to Holy Trinity).  The group made my last hours in Nairobi memorable.  I had a few glasses of wine, colorful conversations about dating, sexism, and politics, and danced with Fr. Eddy until the wee hours of the morning.  Finally, Fr. Celestino took me back to his home in the wealthier Westlands community, where I slept for a few hours before he came to take me to the airport.   

Carnivore & Tanzania

Before going back to Nairobi, my hosts took me to the border, where we entered Tanzania.  I was surprised at how little security was present (no one even asked us a question).  We entered a small garment shop, where Fr. Celestino selected and bought me several Kangas and a large piece of fabric that could be sewn into a dress.  I was told the shop was made possible with micro-financing, something that is severely under utilized by entrepreneurial Kenyans in slum areas, because the interest rates are too high.

   
Since we did not see any lions or rhinos during our excursion to Amboseli, Fr. Celestino braved rough Nairobi traffic to escort me to the animal orphanage in Nairobi National Park.  While the orphanage was much less extravagant than the premier zoos in the States, it did have cheetahs, lions, leopards, rhinos, and a host of other animals that are nursed and then released into the wild. Fr. George joined us as we exited the orphanage for a canopy walk, where we enjoyed the greenery and wildlife within the concrete city.

After finishing the walk, we proceeded to the famous Carnivore restaurant, where they serve a wide variety of exotic meats. 

Amboseli National Park

11/1/2012

This morning, Fr. Celestino, Fr. George, and I set out to Amboseli National Park with the assistance of a driver/guide.  The park is a few hours drive from Nairobi, with only a few roads left unpaved.  We arrived to find a group of Massai women selling jewelery outside the gate.  I was annoyed with their aggressive sales tactics, but Fr. Celestino and Fr. George negotiated with them (in Swahili) to take a picture.

The park is a vast desert where wildlife roam freely.  It is provided water by the snow-capped Mount Kilimanjaro just across the border in Tanzania.  Before we even entered the park, I saw giraffes munching on tree leaves and a secretary bird crossing the road.  Once inside, however, I was able to observe many animals, including zebras, wildebeests, gazelles, baboons, and elephants up close and in their natural state.  We also climbed observation hill, where we took pictures against the breathtaking background of the Nyiri desert.     

 At dusk, we retired to the Kibo safari camp, which accommodates travelers in tents equipped with electricity, hot water, and flushing toilets. We enjoyed a tasty dinner followed by entertainment during which Massai men performed some of their traditional songs and dances.  Despite being a little nervous about sleeping in a tent in the same park as elephants and lions, I had a restful sleep.

An Upcountry Adventure

10/31/2012

This morning I accompanied Fr. George and Seminarian Peter back to Kiambiu to visit the sick and elderly Christians in the Holy Trinity congregation.  Fr. George prayed with each person and their family and served them communion in their homes.  First, we visited an elderly woman who was suffering from dementia. Next, we met Harriet, who was sitting on the ground enjoying the sun.  She was especially jovial as she welcomed all of us and took my hand to tug me up the hill towards her home. We proceeded to visit Alenye, who has suffered from polio since she was a child.  Finally, we visited Njuki and his family.  Njuki was a carpenter and was attacked by thieves as he made his way home in 2005.  The bullet remained lodged in his backbone for six months because he did not have the funds to have it removed.  Now, he is bedridden.  His wife cares for him and their three children by selling chapati (bread similar to nan) along the paths of Kiambiu.

 

*Names were changed for privacy.

When we finished visiting with the sick and aged from Kiambiu, I accompanied Peter and Fr. Eddy to visit more well-to-do parishioners in Buru Buru.  We visited a 16 year old girl who suddenly lost use of her legs due to a rare health condition.  We visited two elderly women who were very happy to see us and finally we conversed with Mr. Mugo, who was a founding member of the Holy Trinity congregation.  He was attacked by thieves in his country home, who cut his left leg and left arm in half.  Fortunately, doctors were able to help him.  He is now in a wheelchair, but can stand and hopes to walk very soon.  He entertained us with stories of the church founding, which was facilitated by Fr. Jack Quinn, an American priest of Maryknoll congregation in Nairobi.  Fr. Quinn played an integral role in the building of the church by matching fundraising efforts shilling for shilling.

That afternoon, Fr. Eddy and Peter took me upcountry to visit their childhood homes.  Just beyond the hustle and bustle of congested Nairobi, lies a beautiful countryside with rich, green grass, valuable crops and gorgeous landscape. 

We visited Fr. Eddy's parents' home first, where his mother served us traditional Kenyan tea, with milk instead of water.  I learned that she is a retired nurse.  Her husband, Fr. Eddy's father, retired from a career as banker and now owns a butcher shop, just a short drive away. 

Peter's father, Joseph Mungai, is also retired from a while-collar career. Now, he manages his farm, which he presented to us in the evening.  The land is surely the most beautiful countryside I've ever seen.  The rolling hills are alive with abundant cash crops such as coffee, maize, bananas, tea, and avocado.  Mr. Mungai led me down the steep hill of his farm to explain how each plant is cared for and processed.  I learned so much!  After climbing back up the hill, we visited the farm animals, including cows, a bull and sheep.  This was the first time I've touched a bull...and he kissed me!  Mr. Mungai explained how he cares for the animals and even let me feed them.  He is such an intelligent man and obviously passionate about his second career.  His enthusiasm was contagious. 

 

 

 

We finished the visit with tea in the house with Peter's mother, Agnes Wanjiru, who made traditional tea for us to enjoy.

 

HIV Patients - In Home Visits

10/30/2012

My volunteer activity for this day is to visit HIV patients in Kiambiu.  I met with two women from Holy Trinity’s congregation who work with a charity called Eastern Deanery Aids Relief Program.  The program provides medicine and nutritious porridge to those who are infected with HIV.  They visit approximately 37 patients and their families every week.  This morning, I joined these women for three hours, accompanied by Seminarian Peter.  

We walked to Kiambiu from Holy Trinity and made our way to the first dwelling, where we visited a family of three.  The patient was a small boy, around 3 years old, whose mother died two years ago.  His father is caring for both him and his sister without steady work.  His sister passed class 8, but her father does not have the money to send her to high school, so she is here with us today.  Thanks to the medicine offered by the charity, it is impossible to tell that the boy has any health issues at all.  He is playful and vibrant and one of the most adorable children I’ve ever met.  Peter and the volunteers speak to the father with much compassion.  One of the volunteers led us in prayer before we moved on to the next case.

We proceeded to visit 5 more HIV infected people and their families before I left the regular volunteers to continue their work.    (1) Mary lost her ability to walk, along with her daughter who took care of her.  Now, the she is responsible for the care of her grandchild, who her daughter left behind.  (2) Wangui is extremely malnourished, with a disfigured hand.  She tearfully explained that her main problem is obtaining food.  (3) Anastasia saw the volunteers and stopped us on the road to inquire as to why we did not visit her home.   She told me, in English, that her husband passed away in 2005, leaving her with four children, all in primary school.  She told me that, while her life with HIV is hard, she is grateful to have the strength to earn a meager living, barely keeping her family fed. (4) Nana’s husband left her with two infant children when they were diagnosed with HIV.  She has pain in her legs, back, and ribs, but she still tries to earn a living by tailoring clothes with the archaic-looking sewing machine outside of her home.  (5) Nancy has four children who are thankfully not infected with HIV.  She breastfeeds her newborn baby as we speak to her about their living conditions.  She explains that her husband sells jewelry on the street just around the corner from Holy Trinity, but does not make enough money.  They are dependent upon charity for food.  When they are not fortunate enough to receive a donation, the children starve.

*All names were changed for privacy.

My first visits into Kiambiu homes were also my first observations of religious counseling in practice.  Seminarian Peter has an exceptional gift which allows him to strengthen the faith of those who have every reason to be faithless.  My own sadness, increased with each home we visited, was tempered by Peter’s sobriety.  He knew exactly what to say to each person and his presence never lost its gravity, even as he translated their words for my understanding.   Peter’s sincerity shines through him like the sun.  His words were simple and his prayers were brief, but they had healing power beyond the syllables.  Peter’s light enabled me to carry on with the visits, somehow convinced that I must have a purpose here despite my current impotence.

That afternoon, Fr. George interrupted a fun conversation between Peter, his friend Ann, and I to tell me that I had to visit Fr. Celestino for a meeting in one hour.  Upon arriving at the Pontifical Mission Society offices in the more affluent Westlands community, Fr. Celestino took me on a tour.  He introduced me to some of their staff, including the human resources manager and assistant before I updated him on my feelings about the activities so far.  I learned that Fr. Celestino pulls late hours often as both he and his staff were still present after 7:00pm, when he told me that we would have dinner at an American hotel.

I was impressed (to say the least) at the grandeur of the hotel and restaurant, as was the rest of our group.  The buffet was an extensive assortment of savory meats, fresh vegetables, and mouthwatering deserts.  I thoroughly enjoyed the meal and conversation, often riddled with laughter thanks to Fr. Celestino’s playful demeanor and hilarious dialogue with Fr. George.

Towards the end of our meal, Fr. Celestino announced that we must all get fruit from the desert counter but not to eat it until he said so.  While Fr. Celestino is very amicable and sometimes outright comical, none of us question his never-quite-absent authoritativeness, so we all did as we were told.  Once we returned to the table, Fr. Celestino engaged everyone with a story, which he kept extending (waiting for Sr. Lydia and his secretary Mary to return from somewhere) with the age old beginning “Onnnnnce upon a time…”  The story was about me.  After what seemed like an eternity of “Onnnnnce upon a time”, the ladies returned and a band of restaurant employees emerged from the kitchen singing and banging pots and pans.  I had not told anyone here that today was my birthday.

I've never seen anyone cut their name in the States, but they don't mind cutting it here.

I discovered that the cake feeding ritual is the same for birthdays and weddings.

After much prodding, Fr. Celestino revealed that Sr. Revelacion, of the Archdiocese of Washington, had told him about my birthday.  I should have known that the big-hearted people I have the pleasure of working with on a daily basis could not keep such a secret.  I was thoroughly surprised and embarrassed, because both Fr. Celestino and Fr. George had known that my birthday was upcoming since Saturday.  I remain grateful that those who had only known me for a few days (some for a few minutes) would honor me with such a celebration.