Kenya Email Update #7

Hi everybody! What’s up???

I’m just enjoying a relaxing Sunday afternoon here in Nairobi. Thought I’d hop on my computer and finish this update since our power just came back. It seriously goes out at least once a week. I picture this evil little man sitting behind a large switchboard, laughing as he vindictively turns the power on and off at random. Poor guy. I should probably send him a letter or something. :)

Anyway, I want you to know that it’s getting harder and harder to cram everything into these bite-sized email updates. It just seems that whenever interesting things start happening, I have less time to write! Do I even need to mention how fast March flew by? I turned 22 and didn’t even notice! We spent my birthday visiting Will (the other American intern) who had been in a pretty serious car accident (he’s ok now). It really shows one of the big differences between our cultures. If the same thing had happened in the States, we would have all been trying to figure out who was going to send him a party favor!

One cool thing that did come from my birthday was that I was treated to dinner at a restaurant called Carnivore. It’s an all-you-can-eat gluttony-fest of meat (No surprise that most of the people eating there were white tourists)! They serve beef, chicken, pork, ostrich, crocodile, camel… Yeah. I even ate the crazy stuff… It’s becoming habitual. Anyway, at Carnivore, Waiters just walk around holding big skewers of roasted meat, carving off pieces for whoever can still cram more animal flesh into their already bulging stomachs. Good times!

Speaking of meat, I had another memorable first a few days ago. I got to see my lunch slaughtered before my eyes! We were out at Camp Malta, which is a team-building site owned by Tanari-Trust (Mo’s company). In good Kenyan fashion, we were having Nyama Choma for lunch. Will and I saw these two guys with machetes escorting goats to a corner of the property. Like real men, we were mesmerized as they killed, hung, and skinned the animal that in a few hours would be our meal. How cool is that?

On the way home, I introduced the people in our van to Twizzlers (my grandparents sent them to me). I was the only person there who had even heard of them! I explained that in the States, we always have Twizzlers when we go on road trips. After devouring the bag, we pulled off at a roadside kiosk and asked if they had any more. They must have been fresh out. We bought mangos instead.

In other news, the internship is going full blast. Right now, I have the responsibility of finding and training a production team for our church plant’s Sunday service, writing dramas and promotional materials, making a detailed map of our district, helping to organize the activities for the GCC team coming in June, and participating in a counseling class, discipleship group, and numerous intern meetings. That’s about it… except for the research, event planning, teaching and counseling that I do. Oh, and I’m studying Swahili on the side… and serving refreshments at worship concerts… and finding clipboards for volunteer sign-ups next Sunday... (It really doesn’t end!)

It’s funny. I think after a year living in a foreign country, the most valuable thing I’ll learn is not cultural adaptation or different paradigm of ministry… it’s time management! Seriously. You should see my calendar. It’s so organized it hurts. If someone told me that Microsoft Outlook was a direct gift from God to man, I wouldn’t be surprised.

I think I am finally able to grasp the fact that I’ll be here the whole year. I’m starting to see the bigger picture, and I’m realizing how awesome this year will be for my development. I come home at night filled with the stuff I’ve learned about myself – my leadership style, my emotional weaknesses, my spiritual gifts, my opinions, my past mistakes, my purpose in life, etc. That doesn’t even include the things I’m learning about ministry, cultural worldviews, church planting, and how to be a good uncle to a couple of absolutely crazy boys!

Thanks a billion for your prayers! I’ve had a few really tough emotional experiences that ended well, I believe, because of your dedication to pray for me! Keep it up!

I attached a little picture that I made with Photoshop (it puts to shame the last picture I attached!). If you like it, I can make more of ‘em. I’ve been taking a lot of pictures. Keep your eye out for a little email I’ll be sending soon. It will announce an AOL Instant Messenger chat session I want to do some Sunday Afternoon (well, it’ll be afternoon for you… I’ll be up in the middle of the night). I’ll just open up a chat room to answer questions and talk in real time with you guys! Cool huh?

May your wives be many and the wind be always at your back! Sounds like a cool Kenyan farewell. But it’s not. I just made it up. :) Sorry for the letdown!

Have a wonderful April!!! Bye!

Barry

Kenya Email Update #6

Well hello there! Guess who’s still alive and kickin’???

It’s me! It’s that Barry kid who left the States TWO WHOLE MONTHS ago! Can you believe it? That means I’m already a sixth of the way through the year! Crazy.

Ok, let’s clear something up. In my last update I mentioned that I was really sick and that I had eaten roasted goat intestine. A lot of you thought that the two were somehow connected. Alas, the events were separated by 2 weeks, so I doubt it. Still, it should have probably made me a little more wary of eating gross stuff (that’s why I’ve only eaten gizzard, cow innards, and goat liver since then…).

Speaking of eating stuff (now that you’re hungry), I have eaten some amazing food. Right down the street from Chapel is an awesome fruit stand where they cut up a bunch of fresh fruits (mango, pineapple, banana, watermelon, etc.) and give it to you it in a big bowl with a spoon. Sooo good. And it only costs about 40 cents! I’ve also discovered the beauty of roasted maize (for those of you who aren’t farmers, its called corn). The taste is basically a cross between pop-corn and corn-on-the-cob. Awesome. A whole cob is about 12 cents (where in all of America can you get food that cheap???). I shouldn’t even mention how much I love chapati and mandazis and chai masala and samosas!!!

Oh here’s something new: Taxi drivers have stopped harassing me whenever I pass by. They used to see my blindingly-white skin and call out “Taxi? Taxi?” Then, as if I hadn’t heard them, they’d yell louder “TAXI???” and gesture to their car in case I was deaf or German or something. For some reason they don’t do that anymore. Perhaps it’s because now I’m tan and I walk like I know where I’m going. Or maybe it’s because I shout Swahili swear words at people as I walk down the street (just kidding… I don’t shout in Swahili!).

I’ve been reading a ton. Since leaving Indianapolis, I’ve finished 10 whole books. I’m currently in the middle of 4 others. I guess that answers the question of what I do in the absence of XBox!

Alright I’ll be honest with you. The experience here has not totally been a bed of roses. There are some days where I really, desperately, tragically wish I could be back home. There are some Kenyan foods that I just can’t stomach. I miss having a car. I can’t escape into video games here. I’m tired of people staring at me when I walk down the street. You get the picture…

Something that has led to quite a bit of frustration is the fact that in general, Kenyans are much more comfortable with chaos than Americans. Working at Nairobi Chapel, I have been consistently confronted with tasks that I am expected to complete without any directions. Good communication between staff members is a rarity. Unclear expectations are totally normal. Basically the environment here makes Grace Community Church’s history look like a study in sharp, disciplined effectiveness (those of you who work at Grace are probably chuckling right now)!

Anyway, even though some of these experiences are frustrating, I am learning from them. I’m learning that immersing yourself in another culture is one of the best ways to truly understand your own culture! I’m learning that following the Holy Spirit’s guidance often doesn’t come with a bulleted list of goals and expectations. I’m learning that walking everywhere is great exercise, that reading is a great escape, and that Kenya has some great food!

So all in all, my experience here has been difficult but valuable, painful but formative, frustrating but life-changing. To answer my old roommate Erik’s question “What percent are you?” I would have to say roughly 76%.

Sorry again for the length of my email updates. They seem to be getting longer and longer don’t they? By December I’ll have to have my emails bound hardcover and shipped overseas! Thanks again for those of you who have kept me updated on your own lives. Checking email has become the highlight of my day (other than dragging myself out of bed at 5:30am of course…)!

Here’s the address where I can receive letters/packages/etc. I hesitate to give this to you because now you’ll all feel obligated to send me something. Don’t. This is just for the people who actually care about me (totally kidding!). Seriously though, I just figured that since several people have asked about it, I should just put it out there for ya’ll.

Barry Rodriguez
Nairobi Chapel
P.O. Box 53635, 00200
Nairobi, Kenya

Well, I’m off to begin another month of fun, challenges, and intense life-changing cultural adaptation! Later!

Barry

p.s. What percent are you???

Kibera

It took me several moments to understand where I was. The transition from city to slum had come too quickly. It was not until the stench of a gigantic trash heap washed over me that I could truly register my surroundings. We were walking into one of the biggest slums on the face of the earth…

A map of Nairobi shows Kibera slum as a large blank area without any roads or landmarks. A simple glance at a map makes it look like a forest or city park. Kibera is not a city park. It is a sea of ragged metal shacks stretching to the horizon. It is a desolate expanse filled with thousands of hopeless Kenyans living minutes away from a world class city. Kibera is poverty.

We walked fast. My eyes darted back and forth, trying to take in the quickly passing scenery. On my left was a small river of sewage. Gagging, I tried to focus on the other side of the street – a ten foot high wall of rusty corrugated steel. We passed tiny stalls where residents of the slum tried desperately to sell overripe fruit, hand-woven baskets, and cell phone credits. I was intensely aware at that moment of how rich and white I looked. I could feel the gaze of children staring as I passed. I was extremely grateful to whoever had suggested that I take off my tie.
On the way to the medical clinic we passed a dog standing in the middle of the road, staring at us with vacant eyes. Its mangy fur was stretched tight over much too visible ribs. A toddler with a sagging diaper and filthy t-shirt waddled out of his home, sucking on his hand. I realized with pain that this child would more than likely live in this slum the rest of his life.
We climbed a high railroad embankment that gave us a shocking view of the slum. I was amazed at how big the place was. I turned to the man leading us and asked “Is that most of Kibera?” pointing at the vast expanse of shacks that stretched over a distant hill. He chuckled and said “Oh no. That’s just a corner of it. Most of the slum lies in that direction.” He gestured behind us. I was speechless.
We were given a tour of a small Christian clinic in the center of the slum. The clinic gives very cheap medical assistance and nutritional education to the people of Kibera. I was in awe of the selfless volunteers working at the clinic. I thought for a moment about the jobs any of them could have had. With skills in medicine and nursing, these capable servants could have easily made large incomes in one of Nairobi’s bustling hospitals. Instead they choose to give up everything to help those who have nothing to give.
After meeting the clinic’s volunteers and asking them many questions about their ministry, we began walking out of the slum, retracing our earlier steps. With my mind still reeling from the enormous sacrifice these servants had made of their lives, we came across a group of children. When they saw me they all started shouting “How are you?!?” – the only English words they know. I answered “Good! And how are you?” They gave me blank stares. Instead of giving up, I greeted them in Swahili. “Habari?” Their faces lit up and they shouted back “Nzuri!” They formed a line and wanted to shake my hand. I shook each of their hands, answering when each of them asked me “How are you?” again. It took me quite a while to lose the smile on my face, but in my heart, I was sobbing. How could children like that be so joyful in a place of such desperation? It was heartbreaking.

The experience ended just as quickly as it had begun. We walked as a group out of the slum. We caught a bus and within moments we were back in the Nairobi I knew. I went home, ate a full dinner, and lay down in my comfortable bed, acutely aware of the luxuries I had been blessed with throughout my life. As I drifted off to sleep, the shocking images of Kibera played over and over in my head. Something had clicked inside of me. It was as if God had walked me through the slum, pointed at the people I saw and said “Here. These are my children. These are the ones I love. It pains me to see them suffering; doesn’t it hurt you too?”
From that moment on, I knew I would never be the same…

Kenya Email Update #5

Hey!

Can you believe it? I’ve been here for a whole month already! One down, 11 to go! This year is going to fly by! Again I want to thank those of you who have written to me. It’s so great to hear from my friends… Just be sure to keep me updated!

Ok, a couple of weeks ago a bunch of people gathered at Mark Kioko’s house (he’s on staff at Chapel) for nyama choma. Nyama choma basically just means “roast meat.” It’s a very Kenyan thing. Someone buys a goat, has it slaughtered, and then roasts it at home with a bunch of friends. I suppose it’s the same as having a barbecue in the States. Except in the States people don’t usually eat roasted goat intestine as an appetizer. In case you are wondering if I actually ate any, I’ll tell you this – it’s really really chewy.

I’ve been thrown head-first into ministry at Nairobi Chapel. Since the church planting process hasn’t really started yet, I’ve been working a lot for Pastor Linda (who does a lot of administration and stuff). She discovered that I like writing and sort of put me to work! I’ve been writing grant proposals, pastoral letters, etc. In fact, the very first thing I wrote for her became the bulletin insert that Sunday!

So on my last day off I went to see a movie in a theatre downtown. It was actually a really nice place! I was surprised. The funny thing is that when a movie is about to start they play this ancient video of the Kenyan flag blowing majestically while the National Anthem plays. I guess if you don’t stand, you can get kicked out! It’s a national law!! Right up there with the law that all places of business in Kenya have to have a picture of the president hanging on the wall. Weird.

As I write this I’m getting over a really bad sickness that hit about two days ago. I guess it’s some sort of intestinal infection (I won’t go into details…). Let’s just say I have been rather miserable these last few days. Oh well. I guess there has to be some downside to living in a country with perfect weather and fresh mango juice…

Since coming here I’ve had the chance to visit three huge slums in Nairobi. Each one was quite an eye opening experience. I really don’t think I’ve ever seen poverty like that in my life. If you are interested, I have written out a little narrative of my experience with the first slum I visited. Just drop me an email and I’ll send you the story.

Also, if you are supporting me with prayer, I am going to start a new email list to which I’ll send specific prayer needs as they arise. Those emails will be more frequent than these updates, and will give you a better idea of the things I (and Nairobi Chapel) need prayer for. If you want to be on that list, just drop me an email as well.

Ok. Keep in touch! I miss you all! For those of you in the Midwest, enjoy your freezing rain and ice and mud! I’m sure it’s just beautiful there!

Later!
Barry

p.s. For those of you who are wondering, I don’t really miss Xbox surprisingly, but man, I could use a big bag of spicier nacho Doritos right now… Oooo… and some pizza from Lou Malnati’s. Oh, and a big bottle of ice cold Mountain Dew! Oh well… I guess I’ll just go have some more roasted goat intestine. hehe