Friday, May 6, 2016

Ceremonial Blood Drink



Easter Sunday, March 27, 2016 With a church being constructed in Napetet and a latrine being built in the village of Nakwamekwi each day is full from early morning to the setting of the sun. I didn’t think I’d be able to travel into the interior parts of Turkana Land because of all that needed to be done.  We have always taken relief food to those in the bush and to not go weighed heavily on me.  They are in such need of food and encouragement.  Word reached them that I was here and they sent a message back to me that they were excited and waiting for me to come. It was settled I would travel to the interior parts of Turkana Land!  
We filled the truck with sacks of beans and maize and then we pushed in some more. We were traveling African style; full to the top inside and out. We had three pastors traveling with us and the Chief.  Every time we travel to the interior he has made himself available to go with us.  As he says “I am the government here, no one will bother us.”  We had plenty of water, a full tank, a spare and good tires!  We were set to go. 
We head toward the wide open land that takes us straight toward the mountain ranges of Uganda.  The bright blue sky covered us while the sun burnt the earth below.  The riverbeds are dry, the thorn bushes are bare and the ground shows no sign of life. There were a few goats along the way and a camel was spotted in a small group of trees but nomadic life has taken the herdsmen and their animals in search of food.

The desert has its markings or road signs like no other. They are a mystery to me but to the driver reads them like a book and knows exactly when to turn.  The numerous thorns bushes that pop up from this barren land need to be avoided as their two inch thorns are strong enough to puncture a tire.
Near the riverbeds there are spots of green but very little and not enough to keep the herds fed.  The rains have vanished with the desert wind and left bone dry riverbeds as evidence of a once moving water. Mamas without the thought of distance will walk with empty water jugs on their heads to the riverbed. They will dig holes in the dry sand in hopes that they will find water to help them make it through another day. 

We travel across flat land and down into the bone dry river beds and safely exit on the other side. The soft sand of the desert pulls us in but the 4 wheel drive quickly muscles us up and onward.  Sitting on a mound of dry earth are some huts that blend in with the earth.  We have arrived and are quickly greeted by women decorated in beads from their collar bone to their chin.  The beads shine from the goat fat that has been rubbed in and melted from the heat of the land.  The beads also speak of the bride price that a man must pay if he wants her as his wife.  A neck highly decorated will mean a higher price or  goats and camels in greater number. The colors of cloth that wrap their body are striking and decorate the drab dry land around us. The kangas or shukas are tied over one shoulder and worn by many of the women. Some of the other women are in their dark and heavy animal skins something that has been a tradition for generations.
The drums are beating and there is a song of praise coming from the little church in the middle of the desert.  The women all sit together on one side while the men stay together on the other.  This is customary and pretty much a way of life in Turkana.  Men are not seen mingling, sitting or even eating with the women.
 Mama Anna, the eldest and much respected woman, stands to her feet to welcome me. The cry of her heart is; The Macedonian Call, “Come and help us.” 

Another mama who doesn’t speak English points to her wrist.  There among the other bracelets that decorated her arm was a very worn and dull salvation bracelet that I had given her years back.  This woman had never forgotten the gift and had treasured it all these years.

It was hot inside and outside, there was no way to escape the heat of the day.  It didn’t matter that it was 105 they still worshiped in song and dance.  Men and women of all ages will jump straight up and down as a way of worshiping God. Even Anna didn’t hesitate to kick up some dust!  Then there is the shoulder that drops towards you and in return you drop your opposite shoulder toward them.  It is an expression of love spoken in the Turkana way.

With their fingers held high they sang after me; “This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine.”   Even though their finger represented a lit candle the smiles on their faces could light up a dark room!  It was a sound of a distant land as they sang in their mother tongue and it was glorious. I do believe there is a new song in the remote parts of Turkana Land that will be taught to their children for years to come.
 

I am honored and welcomed to the home of one of the mamas. Her humble abode offers us relief from the mid-day sun. 
The sacks of maize and beans are positioned under the almost leafless tree that is to give us shade. The women stood before us with their cooking pans, used plastic bags, buckets or they made a holding place for their portion out of the corner of the beautiful cloth that wrapped their body.  We made sure the women all got their allotted amount first as they are the ones that will feed the children.  They left happy and encouraged. It was like food was falling from heaven and they knew God had remembered them.   

A young mama stood nearby with a baby cradled in here arms.  The baby was hidden from the cloth that covered her and swung up over mama’s shoulder.  The mama, the baby and the scene around me was not unusual. We had given out relief food many times and these lines were no different than in times past. That is until the wind blew the cloth that covered the baby and I saw little Christine for the very first time.   This precious little child had a tumor that covered a good portion of her face.  As we prayed for this child in great need I could sense that the prayers were not welcomed.

The bride price had been paid in full and the camels and goats had been handed over to the bride’s parents. The wedding invitation had been given and as I arrived the three days of celebration were well underway.  In the remote areas of Turkana a great number of people gathered to dance and celebrate.  A hundred or more men sat together in an area out of the sun but up on the knoll a cloud of dust could be seen as they danced in circle form.  The men with bells strapped around their ankles and ostrich feathers in the beaded head band formed the outside circle while young girls entered inside the circle and faced them. The dancing began, the dust rose high above them, and their half-clad bodies swallowed up the red ochre painted on their upper torso. 
Their beads were bright and colorful and covered the neck completely. They had beads that flowed like hair from their heads and a wide beaded belt wrapped tightly around their waist. They had adorned themselves in every way possible.  Their beads were clean and shining from the recent goat fat polish and the excess that melts serves as a skin softener.

Off to the side there is a fence made out of thorn bushes. It is a circular fence with an open gate. This area is reserved for the groom, the bride's father and special male guests. The men all sit in a circle on their one legged wooden stool, known as ekicholong. In the middle of the circle sits a large kettle of blood.  A bull has been killed and each man will drink the ceremonial blood of the bull.
 After they had quenched their thirst with the blood they began to dance around me.  Together they sang the same song as their sticks bounced up and down off the ground. Their ostrich feathers swayed in the air as their bodies jumped toward the sky and back down. 
Each round of song brought their circle closer to me and there was no easy way of escape. I was wearing my wedding ring but the Turkana wedding symbol is a copper or metal ring around the neck which I did not have.   
With a little nervous laughter I smiled back but at the same time I scanned the crowd to see if I could catch the Chief’s eye!

The place was alive with joyous celebration when out of nowhere came an angry man with a club in his hands.  He held the club high and his body went into a fighting position as he tried to agitate those near him into battle. It was a scene that could have escalated into a blood bath but with the Chief’s orders he was quickly dealt with and taken away.
As we drove away the ceremonial dancing and song continued. It would go on for hours to come.  It had been a full day, and I left with great memories and gifts of honor that I will cherish for a long time.

Psalm 96:1 Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth.

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

A Land of Survivors


Thursday, March 24, 2016  It's early when we leave and the sun is already making itself known. The cluster of trees that provide a haven of shade are now behind us. The morning is still quiet as the people are just starting to prepare for another day.  The mats are still on the ground as sleeping outside under the stars is preferred.  The outside night air is cooler but even the natives will tell you it was “hot” last night.

The land of song birds seems far away. It's now the bleating of goats that fills my ear. It is the constant and normal sound of village life and in town too.  Goats can be seen in the middle of the road, resting at the entrance of a store, enjoying the shade under someone's vehicle and just about anywhere. 

The quietness and the look of a passive, serene life style flees from my sight as I’m told of the arrest made a few weeks ago of an Al-Shabaab terrorist suspect in Lodwar town.  The Catholic diocese has increased their security measures and I’m told they now wand people as they enter for church.  Even at the center where I stay when a car approaches the gate everyone is ask to get out,  the car is checked inside and a big round mirror scans underneath.  Life is changing even in the distant land of Turkana. 
                                                     
The winds are strong and dirt is flying through the air like a snow storm. My sunglasses protect my eyes and my umbrella becomes a shield until the force of the wind turns it inside out.  Rain is badly needed but when it comes the cost of human life is usually attached.  The river swells and flash flooding removes anything within its path.  Cars, buses, animals, and people vanish in the fast moving water.  
There are countless children in the area and the group around me continues to grow. There is a corner that I round on the bike where they start to call my name and by the time I get to the gate of the church property they are running behind us calling my name.  It's cute and funny at the same time.  The road can be empty but when they see me coming it quickly fills with little people.  Most of these little people go all day without food. Their one and only meal will be at the end of the day so they can sleep without hunger pains.
My soft hair is a big attraction and it usually takes one brave soul to reach up and start touching it before the others will follow.  When they see it’s ok to touch my hair then my arms will get rubbed and even my toes!  It was so hot today I took off my shoes and rested my feet on a rock.  
One little girl sat quietly just looking for the longest time then with big eyes she took the lunge and touched the white woman.

We have another church that we built in village on the other side of the trading town.  The church is doing well and as I visit I am very pleased to see the upkeep and improvements being made without help or a push from the outside.  The traditional curtains hanging in front of the church are beautiful and add color to the inside of the church.  They have treated the posts on the inside of the church to discourage termites. Cement can be seen on the floor and the church is clean and in order.  They are doing a wonderful job. Not only are they holding regular services but it is used for a Bible Training Center for Pastors. (BTCP course) I am happy to report that the church is alive and very active. 
The temperature ranges from 100 – 105 and without a latrine the area around the church is not healthy.  We bought some cement culverts and have two men ready to start digging.  The sand is soft and there is always the danger of the ground caving in but with the culverts they will be protected.  
They stand inside the culvert and remove the earth a bucket full at a time.  Slowly the culvert drops into the ground and another culvert is place on top. This new latrine will clean up the grounds and give the children a cleaner place to play.  
                                                                                                


Good Friday, March 25, 2016 The winding Turkwel River and the shade trees around my room are an automatic invite to every mosquito in Turkana Land. Every night I have a swarm of tiny and frail looking mosquitoes outside my door just waiting to come in. They are the quiet ones that are known to carry malaria.  I didn’t take long to learn that I need to plan on an extra ten minutes to kill mosquitoes before I go to bed.  Last night when I settled in and dropped the net over my bed I counted nine mosquitoes, just on one side panel that had been trapped inside with me. I think the purpose of the net is to keep them on the outside!

Motorbikes and other vehicles going through town this morning had to use a different route as the main road was full of people.  It’s Good Friday and the Diocese of Lodwar is holding a special service and many have come out to be a part of it. 

The kitchen help has been freezing water for me but it doesn’t take that long for it to thaw. Warm water on a day that is 105 just doesn’t take care of the thirst.  It is hot and sticky and the dust just clings to you.  There is a reason that some people dress with less in this part of the country! 

The traditional latrine is made of palm branches placed in a circle.  The door way is open and the roof is open to the sky but everyone knows this is the spot!  For me, because the door way is open and the palm branches allow quite a bit of light to pass through, I choose to walk a bit.  There is a church member that was welcomed me to use her latrine which has 4 walls a wooden door!


The kids gather in great numbers to be close, to talk, to touch and to play with the jump ropes and bouncy balls.  Then of course there is always the chance that she might have a sweetie in her back pack!
At the end of the day the church is framed in and they marvel at the size. The church people have been meeting in a rented room about a third of the size of the church.  They haven’t been able to dance in the Turkana way and their children have had to meet under the tree. There just wasn’t enough room for everyone inside.  They are exuberant and thankful for the blessings that God is sending their way.
The sun is setting behind the hills and night is closing in on us. It’s time to hop on the back of the bike and head to the other side of the busy trading town.  Tonight there is a shiny new hammer tied tightly to the back.  His new hammer is like the blessing of rain when it falls from heaven and a sign that God has not forgotten him.  The night says goodbye to the sun and brings a bit of relief from the ever burning sun rays of the day.  The night air brings life to the town and people pick up their pace but for me I’m more than ready to return to my little hide away and settle down for the night.

Saturday, March 26, 2016 It is day five of temperatures hitting 105 degrees but the “feels like” temperature is even higher.
The goats wander through the church lot and try to make the leaves on our little tree lunch.  They are quite good at standing on their back legs and reaching the lower branches of the trees.  Having a fence around your lot is customary and becomes a way of showing ownership. Even though the church plot is fenced in with barb wire it doesn’t seem to slow the goats down.

The roof is going on today and it’s a very difficult job as the sun reflecting off the iron sheets can be blinding.  When I opened my back pack and pulled out caps and sunglasses the guy's expressions quickly changed. It's amazing how a new pair of shades can make you feel “cool.”
This isn’t Maasai territory but today we had a visitor.  He came with a jug of juice; different herbs that had been blended and boiled together. 
He also had a bag of different ground herbs that could be used for medicinal purposes.   One of the workers knew all about the medicines and how they worked. He was especially excited about the juice as he said it would give you more energy. It was described to me as vitamins and noted that I probably shouldn’t try it.  There was need to worry about that but it was nice to know he was looking out for me.  Raphael downed a small tin cup full of the vitamin drink and then said in five minutes he would disappear.  Everyone laughed but he was right.  Raphael disappeared and he was gone a long time as the medicine is some type of “cleanser.”

Monica, a young girl about ten, looks very sad today. She is usually bubbly and outgoing but not today. When I mention it to her she points to her head and says “I not happy.”  There are so many hungry children, dehydrated and living under the hot sun. Malaria and lung infections caused from the dust continue to be a plague within the land. Their bellies are full of worms taking the little nutrition they have from them.  It is a land of struggles, a land of hardship and a land of great survivors.

Isaiah 35:1 -2The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.

Friday, April 29, 2016

Two Shallow Graves

Wednesday, March 23, 2016 It feels like the sun never rests. It is hot when you go to bed and it is hot when you get up. It’s about a twenty minute ride on the back of the bike from the gated compound to the property for the new church. The sides of the road going through the trading town are full of vendors and little shops. Herds of goats walk through the area of produce bins and some find shelter from the sun under parked trucks. It’s obvious that the roadway is not reserved for the busy bus line or the motorbikes as animals roam freely and rummage through the garbage piles along the way.  
Slender women with their necks adorned in precious beads and their heads shaven, with the exception of a small center area, walk to the market with newly woven baskets. Turkana men wearing robes of their tribal colors walk together with their cattle prod resting across their shoulders and a small wooden stool or headrest/ekicholong hanging off the cattle prod.  You will never see a man and woman walking as a couple or even side by side.  
It isn’t as dusty riding in town as the main roads now have tarmac but once you start to leave the center and head out toward the villages the dust rolls off the dirt roads.  I’ve found the need to drape myself in cloth while I’m on the bike riding back and forth.  It keeps the sun off me and helps keep the dust out of my lungs.  I actually look very African except for the visible white skin.

The once open land is becoming full of the traditional igloo shaped homes covered with palm branches.  With the exception of the brightly painted wooden door they blend in with earth beneath them.  There are also some homes made from the mud of the earth and a few are now covered with iron sheet roofing.  There is a quarry in a different area that is producing a lightly rose colored stone which is being used for more expensive structures and commercial buildings found closer to town. There is evidence of growth and expansion throughout the areas traveled.
 
The children’s eyes have been ever so watchful and as I round each corner little hands go up and “How are you?” hits my ear like a song. Then there is a rush as many little bare foot children run toward the bike and follow us in.
The property is open to the sun and the hot soil resembles beach sand. There is one small tree that stands alone, struggling under the desert the sun.  In this arid land trees are very valued and as we mark out the church we keep this in mind.  The tree must not be disturbed!  It will be a meeting place and a place of comfort from the heat of the day for many in the days to come.
The church is marked out for all to see and it is official, the church is going up! 

My backpack is heavier today. There is the usual umbrella, bandages, camera, water, phone, lollipops, tissues, germ x, jump ropes, bouncy balls, Bible and something extra for Patrick our head carpenter.  Patrick lives in the hills out of town. He is a husband, father, pastor and carpenter. Tools of good quality are very hard to find here. They are costly and out of reach for many of the builders.  Patrick built two other churches in different villages of Turkana Land for us so we know his need of tools. Before coming my husband, who is a builder too, picked out a Stanley hammer just for Patrick. 
Patrick couldn’t be happier with his new hammer.  The one he was using was tied together and of poor quality.   This hammer will be used and treasured. It won’t be left on the job site but will go home with him at the end of each and every day.

A plastic chair from one of the neighbors was quickly brought to me and placed under our little shade tree.  As the sun went higher and higher in the sky I found it more difficult to be in the shade as our tree is not thick with leaves.

Music, with the beating of drums, travels with the desert winds. It settles in my ears and brings joy to my heart. It is Wednesday and once a week the ladies meet in one of the nearby homes for Bible study. Their praise seeps through the palm branches that wall their igloo shaped home and becomes the radio of the day.
The post holes were dug and the posts were treated with a chemical to deter termites mixed with used motor oil before being placed in the ground.  Termites are very destructive and big problem here in Turkana as well as other areas of Kenya. 

The sun shows no mercy. The word “hot” has a totally different meaning when you are in Turkana. Without moving a finger pellets of moisture roll down my face. When the pastor notices this he becomes concerned but with a confirming smile I assure him that I am fine.  Their appreciation and friendship puts their feet in action and they send someone to get more water for me.
The first post is up and we are moving forward even in the intense heat and wind that sends small debris and sand into your face and eyes.  The winds gather the earth and release it without thought or care.

The surprise of the day is finding out that the two mounds our delivery truck got stuck in yesterday are the graves of two people!  It’s a wonder that the spinning tires didn’t unearth someone’s beloved.  There was not mention of this until I inquired about the debris at the gate entrance.  I thought perhaps someone was dumping garbage there and we could clean it up. There were some cloth items, paper, a couple playing cards, broken glass and a pair very worn out shoes.  It seems that the swallow graves are covered with the belongings of the deceased.  They aren’t needed anymore and go to the grave with them. It amazed me that traveling over the graves was not seen as dishonor to those gone on.
Rafters are being made as the posts go in and the new hammer is swinging as Patrick smiles away!  He appreciates the gift and will never forget the giver. He thanks God and “Gove” for remembering him.
I leave the site for a couple hours to rest from the sun. It is a bit cooler back at the compound and I can rest from the constant wind of the desert.  It’s good to take time to pour water into me and to cool off in one of many showers.  Rain water is collected and stored in large tanks held on high stands. It is not heated. In fact the shower has only one facet “cold” but the water is never cold as the sun heats it.

The workers on the compound are familiar to me as I’ve been coming here for years.  They are all very friendly and I enjoy talking with them and there is one lady who works in the kitchen that is very special to me…….the snake killer!
A few years back I had eaten and was returning to my room.  I was not thinking about snakes, scorpions or spiders.  I was tired and had returned to my safe zone and was thinking about relaxing.  But as I was walking in the designated path way I noticed a branch had fallen on the ground.  It did not occur to me that it was a snake until I got very close and my foot was above and it took off into the bushes.  I notified the workers that I had seen a snake and they gathered around that area and found the cobra with its head up looking out of bushes at us. The men hesitated but the cook took charge and made sure this snake would never hurt anyone.  Usually when a snake is seen in this area everyone will hunt for it and then kill it as they are poisonous and can bring death.

There was one worker missing and the story unfolded as I sat with the sisters. She began to make frequent visits to the witch doctor and it escalated to her taking part in the ceremonies held in the mountains. Her peaceful, calm personality changed and she started stealing from the rooms. There was unrest and fighting with the co- workers and she even tried to fight with the sisters. The situation got worse and one day she tried to kill one of the workers here at the center. After many years of doing her job well and building a name that carried a good reputation it was gone.  She refused help and she went her way. 

As we travel to the sight we notice a police vehicle with the canvas covered back. The benches inside are full of people and no one looks too happy.  Kenya has an ongoing campaign to slow down the making & selling of the very dangerous and illegal home brew.  It seems that Turkana has not been left out of this mission.
It was an extra special day for the children.  Some just sat and studied me while others were brave enough to touch my hair. But the best part of the day for them was playing with the jump ropes and bouncy balls my granddaughters, Vanessa & Grace, packed in my suitcase for the children of Africa. Some of the adults tried the jump ropes too!
What joy leaped with in them as they played toss and took turns with the jumps ropes. Having toys for the children to play with are not part of life in the Turkana villages.
The sun sets over the hills that close us in and become a beautiful tapestry reaching to the sky.  The children run beside the bike as we leave the area and call my name, “Lendah, Lendah, Lendah.”  It is a name that has traveled far and will not be quickly forgotten.  Tomorrow they will wake early with anticipation and excitement as they watch for white woman to enter their village once again.

Isaiah 58:11 The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame.