Great news and a fun story

Today was a fantastic day. We woke up and the sun was shining brightly, the sky was an uninterrupted expanse of blue, and there was a pleasant wind blowing. The songbirds all around our cottage celebrated the beautiful weather.

Lindsay went with M.J. Grossmann this morning (girls' day out) to visit a house church in a nearby digo village. Lindsay was able to visit Mwanasiti, a Christian Digo woman who came to our cottage and cooked us lunch last time we were here. They had a wonderful day, but because I wasn't there, I won't write about it.

I decided to head back up into the hills and villages around Kwale to try to track down some contacts we made last time we were in Kenya. These people manage a non profit called Pamoja (togetherness) that serves Digo women and children in need. From what we know about this project, we have been thinking that it could serve as an excellent blueprint for us to start something similar. At the very least, I wanted to visit and observe what goes on there.

I hadn't been able to communicate much at all with the people who run Pamoja, but I figured I would strike out and hope for the best. I didn't know if I had any real chance of successfully locating them in thousands of square miles of land and hundreds of thousands of people when I don't speak the language, but I figured I could benefit from getting to know the area better whether I found them or not.

I hiked out to the main road and started the hectic Mutatu journey into the hills. As foreign as it is to me, I really enjoy this adventure. For one thing, I love to experience life wherever I am as the local people live it, but beyond that, there is a shared sense of belonging as 23 people pile into a small van and speed down an impossibly bumpy road. It is as though everyone knows, "We are all going somewhere and this is how we get there. Might as well enjoy the ride." Just when you think you have shared enough apologetic smiles to cover the many cramped collisions you have had while settling in as the vehicle slams around corners, the van will skid to a halt and 5 or 6 more people will cram in. This process repeats itself indefinitely as people clamber in and out on the way to their destination.

As I mentioned, I didn't know where I was going, but I vaguely remembered hearing that the project was located in Vuga, a village near Kwale. I had asked to be let out of the bus at Vuga and after about a 45 minute ride, we pulled off the road in the jungle and the driver pointed at me and shouted "Vuga!" I somehow managed to make it out of the van past all of the other passengers. As the matatu sped off and left me standing there on the side of the road I began to wonder just where I was and what I had signed up for. I resolved to make the most of it and explore the area. 

I climbed a path up an embankment next to the road and just as I got over the bluff,  there in front of me was a brightly colored sign that proclaimed "Pamoja!"

I could scarcely believe this was happening to me. I excitedly followed the trail that wound through a maize patch and under a stand of coconut palms. I neared a thatched building with the sound of many small voices singing something in unison. As I rounded the corner, the singing stopped. About 30 little children and 2 teachers stared at me quizzically. 

I suddenly realized how odd it must be for me to come bursting out of the jungle and into their classroom unannounced. I said one of the only things I know in Swahili / Chidigo. "Jambo." 

"JAAAMMMBOOO" A chorus of cheerful voices replied excitedly. Apparently my interruption of their lesson had been forgiven.

After establishing that I was indeed visiting the exact program I had set out to find, I was led through the gardens until we met an english-speaking caretaker named Sayidi.

Sayidi turned out to be a very kind man. He told me that Terry (the contact I met two years ago who manages Pamoja) was not working today, but he offered to show me around and answer all of my questions.

What I saw there was inspiring beyond words. There are currently 55 Digo children enrolled in Pamoja. The program is a daycare / school that caters to poor children who would otherwise never be able to afford to attend school. Every day, these kids receive a nutritious meal and an education for FREE! Sayidi tends a 1 acre garden that grows food that helps to feed the children. He said that, all told, the average cost of feeding these 55 kids for one day is a total of 100 shillings ($1.69)!!!

We spent about an hour or so discussing all of the details of running a project like this. As we walked around the property and he explained everything to me, countless possibilities began to form in my mind. What once seemed like an amorphous dream began to crystalize as a tangible possibility.

We scheduled another meeting for tomorrow when Lindsay and Terry can both be there. I can hardly wait. I have so many things that I am excited to ask. This is EXACTLY the kind of thing that we were hoping would happen on this trip.

OK, now for a fun story.

When I left Pamoja I started to walk towards Kwale. It was really hot out at this point and the road was long and steep. The matatu had dropped me off in the middle of nowhere, so I thought I might be in for quite a walk. After about 15 minutes of walking in solitude, a huge truck loaded with sand came lumbering up the hill behind me. I stepped off the road to let it pass and looked up to smile at the guys who were riding atop the sand in the back of the truck. They waved down to me and signaled that I should climb on. No need to ask twice!

I climbed up into the back of the truck and was greeted by 2 friendly guys about my age. They were grinning from ear to ear and signaled that I should follow them to the front of the load (this truck was like a huge dump truck except it didn't dump... it had to be unloaded manually).

I spent the next 45 minutes in an exhilarated state of happiness. The breeze was wonderful and suddenly the sun no longer felt hot. It was pure freedom. Riding high up with a totally unobstructed view gave me a new perspective on this landscape. I have always known that it is beautiful here, but being out in the open and watching the lush green hills and valleys roll by was truly awe inspiring.

The workers in the back and I talked as much as we could without all sharing the same first language. As it turned out, they were all Digos. One guy named Muhdi knew a lot of English and we chatted for a long time and exchanged contact information.

When we arrived in Kwale the driver stopped the truck to let me climb down. I thanked them for the ride, and we parted ways.

I bought a huge bottle of water and was walking around town enjoying my cold drink when I spotted the truck again. They were unloading the sand with shovels at a site where a building is being built. I walked up to the truck and when they saw me the workers smiled and waved. I climbed back up into the truck to watch them unload (it is so different than an American truck that just dumps whatever it is carrying in a matter of seconds). I saw that they were pouring sweat so I tossed them the my water. They gratefully shared it amongst themselves. After this little break, they jokingly gestured toward a shovel and we all had a laugh but then I figured, "hey why not?" I took off my shirt and grabbed the shovel.

It was exhausting work , but we had a fine time and before too long, we had finished. 

They asked where I was staying and they offered me a ride back to the neighboring town. Rather than cram back into a Matatu after working up a sweat like that, I gladly accepted. We climbed back into the truck and went bouncing down the dirt road.

The ride back down out of the hills was rather eventful. We broke down and had to repair the truck, then once we got going again, we got pulled over by police who were wielding machine guns. I watched as the driver discretely slipped some bills into the policeman's hand and shortly thereafter, we were on our way. I asked Muhdi what had taken place and he laughed and said that we got pulled over for having passengers in the back of the truck. When I expressed feelings of guilt for my part in the crime (I had no idea it was against the law here... you see it all the time) he laughed again and told me that it happens every single day. He said "we carry the whole crew back here every day. We just give him a few shillings and he lest us pass. Is no problem."

When we got down from the hills the truck pulled over at a little thatched pavilion. I asked what we were doing and Muhdi said "LUNCH!" We all went into the little roadside "restaurant" and sat on logs on the ground. They served up boiled cassava and broth. Delicious. They refused to let me pay for mine and insisted that they owed me a lunch for helping them.

I would say the ONLY downside of this day is the stinging sunburn I got from spending the afternoon in the back of a truck with no shirt on, but even that is just a reminder of this great day.

For the future:

Please pray that our meeting at pamoja is good tomorrow.

Please pray that we can gather good information about other initiatives that would be beneficial.