The Rift Valley

I can't sleep. I have been laying in bed under the misquote netting listening to the sounds of the jungle for an hour now. I decided to give up and just write. It's 6am and the hotel seems to be coming alive with sound. We spent the night last night at the 'hotel kunste' in Nakirou. Nakirou is a med size town located in the banks of the great Lake Nakirou in the Rift valley. Lake Nakirou is the lake famous for the millions of pink flamingos that line it's banks. The rift valley is famous for being the 'cradle of life' where some say life began. It is also where archeologists have found the oldest fossil of human primates. We drove past the dig site yesterday and I desperately wanted to go inside and see the exhibit but we did not stop.



Yesterday was a very full day. After an early wake up call we where on the road by 8am. Once again we found ourself dodging traffic in Nairobi. The early morning rush hour proved to be quite a foe as it took us over and hour and a half to get through town. I was once again struck at how beautiful a town Nairobi is. The lush green forests of east Africa seem to collide into a town that has no doubt grown to big for it's own good.



After leaving town we drove up a steep mountain pass climbing from 5000 ft in Nairobi to over 8000 ft. At 8000ft we stopped at an overview that looked over one of the more beautiful vistas I have ever seen. Before us spread the rift valley and the beginning of time. From our vantage point we could see for hundreds of miles and below us 3,000 ft was the lush green valley floor. Distant mountains lined the far end of the valley and their highest reaches where covered with fog as the morning dew lifted. The valley floor was dotted with dozens of farm plots laid out in perfect squares. The whole picture was breathtaking and filled with the glory of God.



After our stop at the vista we drove further and stopped for a snack an hour later at a road side vendor. Feeling rather brave I got a mystery meat kabob and my favorite African drink, a bitter lemon 'krest' soda. Although I pride myself as being a really brave person eating at a roadside cafe in Kenya was kind nerve racking....so far so good. (update: 24 hours and so far no problems)



After the mystery meat kabob we headed to the orphanage located outside of Gilgil. The orphanage is a new one and has only been up and running since Sept. It is run by a man named Honey and his wife. Before you ask Honey is in fact his real name. He also has two twin 1 year old girls named, Honor and Honor. One pronounced Honer (how americans would say it) and the other Oner (like a Brit would say it...shout out to Freddie the crazy Brit! I miss ya girl). Names here are kinda funny. If you ask some Kenyans to spell their name three times they may spell it three different ways.



The orphanage is on a small plot of land roughly 120 yards long by 60 yards wide and has 5 buildings. The first building is a large dining hall, the second is the home of Honey and his family, the third is a outdoor covered kitchen and the last two are dormitories. Each dorm holds 30 children and is set up like a camp “cabin”. Each dorms has bunk beds covered with misquote netting, two windows, three skylights and one door in the middle. Upon arriving at the orphanage we where greeted with traditional African song and dance from the women. Soon we where ushered in to every building looking at all the new construction and complementing the workers on a fine build. After 30 minutes the older elementary and middle school age children came home for lunch and we where invited to eat with them. Lunch consisted of rice, kale (like our greens) flat bread, potatoes, and a root I was unfamiliar with. After eating with the children John addressed the group and we spent the rest of the time meeting with various board members, local church members, and orphanage workers.



While John and the others where meeting I sneaked out and took a look around the orphanage. My first thought when we got there was, “this place is terrible” but after looking around I realized it was not the facilities that where lacking but my expectations. Each orphanage is literally taking kids off the streets and giving them a safe place to live, food everyday, love and care, a church that supports then, health care, clothing, schooling, and bible teaching. The buildings are safe, dry, warm/cool, and filled with adults who love them. My american definition of what it would take to be safe and happy are slightly different. I expect comfort of the highest order, multiple free time activities like play-station or xbox, and junk food. I guess I expected camp.



After saying our goodbyes and leaving the orphanage I was struck by how different this trip is from my past one. Last time I came to africa I came looking for peace, friendship, and stress relief. This time I am much less stressed, fell more 'established' in my faith and am not as crazy as I once was. (Notice I did not say, 'not crazy' but not 'as' crazy). This trip is much less about me and much more about others. The kids, our church, the WBS supporters, the 1000 or so kids, and the countless brothers and sisters striving to make a difference by helping orphans in there own country thats who this is about. Last time I came to Africa to find who I was, this time God wants to show me who He is. I only pray that I have the eyes to see.



May all of us on this great rotating ball of dirt and water have the eyes to see. See what is on the other side of the globe, across the nation, down the street, down the hall, sitting next to us and most importantly living in us. God is alive and is speaking to every one of us every day. Are we really listening?