Questions that are only acceptable in Africa:

Method behind the madness. After a week or so in the middle of the bush of Africa, someone turned to me and asked, “Are you shaving your legs this week?” This question did not even phase me and I proceeded to answer honestly. A few seconds later we were still having a conversation about shaving for the next two months. After realizing what some of us were going to look like after not shaving for two months, I busted out laughing.   Only in Africa, would we be asking these questions, I thought. 

Is this real life?

            We were asked as a group what kind of expectations we had for whatever countries we were going to this summer.  Shortly after we all answered, we were told to totally drop every expectation we had because God was going to unleash so much more then what we ever could imagine.

Boy, were they right.

After traveling for over 30 hours, being dropped in the middle of “The Bush” of Kenya with the Messai (sp?) tribe, and not showering for almost three weeks, we found ourselves sitting around a tiny fire huddling to keep warm and just laughing. We laughed about the fact that God sent us to the middle of nowhere to make disciples, we laughed about how no one thought Africa would get cold (really cold) at night, and most of all we laughed because none of it felt real. This was TOO good to be true. 

Yes, too good to be true.

Looking out at the mountains, and watching the storms roll in from miles away gave us a sort of intimacy with God and His creation that is a little harder to reach at home. This was awesome! And honestly, due to our living conditions, this was a happiness that we could have only received from God. We were utterly joyful that we got to look up at the stars when using the squatty-potty. We couldn’t stop smiling when we could hear the rain fall on our tents and we were brought to tears by how beautiful this tribe was.  We were so happy just existing with God and it was an experience I am forever grateful for.

Is that a boy or a girl?

            Here in Satiman, noone has hair. In fact, most people marvel at the fact that we can grow hair at all! There were many times when little girls and boy would run up to our arms and legs and just begin to pet us. They loved it!  People here simply just don’t grow hair anywhere but their heads. And even though they do grow it on their heads, the men and women all shave their hair down to the scalp!  Maybe this doesn’t pose an issue on the natives in Kenya, but for us, it became an issue when we began asking weather the child holding our hand was a boy or a girl. When we taught in schools we began avoiding words like she or him and steered towards you or them.

Did you poop today?

            Before I left for this trip, I was told that I was going to be surprised how many conversations would be based around poop. I kind of wrote it off and thought that there was only so much that could be said about ones bowel habits.

            Man, was I wrong.

            I have never in my life talked about poop as much as we do here. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, down time, funny stories, during ministry, on walks, before and after worship, and I’m SURE someone worked it into their testimony! And we don’t just talk about it in secret or under our breath. No No. We talk about consistency, color, amount, time of day, size, if anything was in it, and even what we were thinking about before, during, and after. I mean, we really don’t mess around- we like to know every detail.

            What we have come to realize is that your bowel habits can tell a lot about your health at this point in time! We cheer when someone goes after not going for a few days, we sympathize when someone hasn’t stopped going through the night and we root someone on when they reach in their tent for the baby wipes and head for the squatty. 

Was that a camel or a lion?

            Our first night it Satiman was one for the books. We arrived just before the sun went down and had been traveling for way too long. We were tired, hungry, and still had to set up our tents. We saw we had a few camels, goats, and donkeys hanging around where we were tenting but other then that we did not have much time to look around before heading to bed.

            In the middle of the night I hear this growl that is so loud it woke me up. We had been there for a good 3 hours and had NO idea what we were hearing. We knew there was warriors and wildlife men hanging around for protection against animals, so immediately we assumed it was a lion. I said a quick prayer incase the lion was as close as it sounded because I thought for sure he was going to get into something… or someone.

            In the morning Bryce and I had talked about the lion growls and eventually figured out a few days later that it was a camel that makes that terrifying noise in the middle of the night. We soon became numb to the camel noises at night and  could make it to the squatty with no fear.

            One of the last nights in Kenya we woke up and were sitting around the fire and I asked if he had heard the camels last night, because they were abnormally loud. He agreed, “Yeah, was that a camel or a lion?!” We laughed.

            A few hours later a warrior stopped by our camp and asked if we had heard the lion last night.   Bryce and I immediately look at eachother and the irony of this situation.

            I died laughing.

Who’s Oogali is in the fire?

            Mmmmm. Oogali.

For those of you who don’t know what this wonderful food is, let me just give you the recipe.  4 Cup water. 2 Cup flour… stir, and let stand until hardening.

            The Kenyan equivalent to silly putty.

            Towards the end of our stay, the methods of getting rid of Oogali were quite creative if I do say so myself. And because it is considered rude if you do not finish all of your food that is on your plate, our team had quite the imagination.

If you look in the squatty-potty I’m sure there will be heaps of the white putty stuff. The stray dogs have their bellies full of it. There’s some in the camels pin. Some is buried deep beneath the red Kenyan clay, but the best disposal method of all was when someone threw it into the middle of our fire, thinking that it would be an easy solution.  We watched it sit in the middle of the fire, not changing form, for 30 seconds before even the fire spit it back out at us.

Can we milk the camels?

            For most of our stay we were given tea to drink with milk in it. We rarely saw cows and the family that was hosting us certainly didn’t have any. So naturally the question came up about what kind of milk we were drinking. After finding out that they milk those huge camels, all of us became a little bit jealous. We got to milk the goats, but something about getting to milk something that is above your head intrigued us.

            One morning, one of my brothers and I were the only ones up around the fire waiting for breakfast. We saw Anna come out with the container they use for milk. We looked at each other and without a word ran up to her and asked if she was going to get camel milk. She said yes, and we jumped on the chance to go get it too! Anna handed us the container and told us to follow a boy to the next village to retrieve it.   We were so excited. Our family was going to be so jealous.  We followed the little boy through the bush as if he was leading us to a pile of presents on Christmas. We were so pumped we forgot how cold it was not being around the fire.

            As we arrived at the next village, we were grinning ear to ear. This was it. When everyone got up we were going to get to tell them that WE got the milk for the tea this morning. I could just hear one of my brothers telling me that it wasn’t fair he didn’t get to do it!   The little boy says something out loud and a girl comes out from her house. He passes her the milk container and she goes back inside her mud hut. Seconds later she returns with a filled container and hands it back to the little boy.

            Apparently they get big quantities of camel milk at once and dish it out as needed. L

            We still told our family we got the camel milk that morning.

Did you hear the donkeys mating last night?

            Never fails.

            In the middle of the most serious of conversations, when someone has broke down crying, or in the middle of a peaceful nights sleep you will hear the Donkey’s scream. This is a noise that you can’t even imagine unless you have heard it.  No matter what the situation was, you would hear the donkeys and immediately start cracking up. There is no other reaction to the most awkward loud noises that come out of that donkeys snout. 

Am I really tan, or is this just dirt?

            No one really knew what the living conditions were going to be once we got to Kenya. When we found out we were going to be tenting for the full 20 days, we were pretty excited. I don’t think anyone really expected to come to Africa and sleep in a hostel on a gently used bed, we had our life in a bag and we were up for anything. However, when we found out we were not going to be able to shower for the entire time, some of us probably second guessed this whole back packing thing. Luckily my grandma had forced some baby wipes into my possession that I decided to pack last minute.

            We were outside everyday. It was too hot to be in your tent and we did not have a house to just hang out in. We sweat everyday, sat through the dust storms, and prayed for rain so we could let down our hair and wash our face.

By the time we left Kenya we had 20 layers of sun block, bug spray, dust, dirt, and probably animal feces on our bodies.

 It was quite an experience. But the thing is, we all loved it. After day 4 we said to heck with being clean and just embraced the fact that our hair stayed in a ponytail when you took the rubber-band out, and laughed when we rubbed our head and watched the dirt fall out. We couldn’t help but comment on each others feet. Once you took a baby wipe to your feet it was like you bought a bran new car, “Did you wash your feet?!” “Wow… your feet are looking good!” “My feet are never getting clean, how did you do that?” “I have given up cleaning my feet, how did you get your toenails clean?!”     I swear to you, once someone cleaned their feet (which keep in mind, would still look filthy back home) we gave compliments in admiration.

Is it bad that I want to have malaria so I can call my mom?

            Although none of us would say we are homesick, and we are deeply in love with life and everything God has done here, don’t worry mom’s, your baby hasn’t forgot about you.

            It took us all but 1 week in Africa to figure out that our malaria pills do NOT prevent malaria but instead makes the symptoms a little more bearable. After figuring that out, some of us got sick and had to do to the Doctor. The doctor had diagnosed them with malaria. One by one we were all calling home and having to tell the parents that their child has malaria. After the 5th person came back from the doctors with the same diagnosis, one of my sisters came to me while I was washing the dishes in the most serious voice I have ever heard she whispers, “Is it bad that I want to have malaria so I can call my mom?” 

I died laughing. I almost broke a dish and my abs hurt afterwards.

Only in Africa.

(oh yeah, the best part of it all, is none of us actually had malaria- the clinic thought they could make a quick buck on ripping off the new white people in town)

All in all, this is a blessing beyond what I could ever imagine. My family is fantastic, I wouldn’t want to spend these few months with anyone other then them. God has blessed us like crazy and I am eternally thankful for all He has done J