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Appleseed Travel Journal

Turkana Is Not Kenya

 

Being with people is so different than just hearing about people.  The Kenya team has been intentionally going into the northwestern region of Kenya known as Turkana to make disciples.  Just getting there is not easy.  The roads are extremely poor requiring 4-wheel drive and because thievery and cattle rustling is a way of life, encountering gunfire is common.  The team has made about four trips up there so far.  One of the new disciples, William, a Turkana leader, and leaders from several house churches traveled last week down to Transnzoia County, to spend time with us.  Even though we’d seen photos and had conversations and reports from the team, we seriously did not begin to understand what it’s like until we got to sit with these amazing people.

 

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For example, we never knew Turkanans do not consider themselves to be part of the nation of Kenya.  They live much more as a people group, with many sub-tribes, an entire nation unto themselves, not as a very large county included as part of Kenya.  Their culture is so entirely different and their living conditions are far, far worse than, from what I’ve seen, the worst-off Kenyan experiences.  The climate alone is tough.  In the dry season, they somehow survive the extreme heat and dried up riverbeds.  Then, when it’s rainy season, although grateful for the rains, the long-awaited torrents also bring life-threatening flooding that demolishes their mud, thatched homes, and meager belongings.  To emphasize the hardships of their existence, they told me, “We have a saying, ‘In Kenya they take sugar and milk with their chai; in Turkana we have no milk.’”  One of the Kenyans (by our standards who himself lives an impoverished life) agreed saying, “You can’t imagine how it is.  In dry season they have one small bottle of water and this is for an entire family for drinking.”

 

We learned so much being with these people.  Each encounter packed with insights into a life beyond anything I could imagine.  Here’s just a couple of excerpts:

 

Initially, William, who we’ve met three times before, greeted us, “I’ve seen you in Kenya, but now we pray you will come and work in Turkana.  You will come and receive a Turkana name and then you will always remember you are from there.  If you come when there is hot sun or if you come in the rainy season or whatever the situation is, your name will come and when you go back home your kids will be amazed with your long, long name.”

 

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“When the Kenya visitors first came, they almost cried it was so dry, dry, dry and hot.  There was nothing but hunger here.  There were so little food and so many people.  They brought food but it was very hard to distribute because of so many people.  We gave each one a small cup of food.  We beg you to come so together we can solve the issues there.  We believe if all of us come together we can solve the problems in Turkana.  We need water in dry season and houses during the rainy season.  They are like animals the way they live.  When the rains come, everything is destroyed, even when the sun is there, we cannot hide.  The rain destroys our homes.  We become very old because of so many problems.”

 

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Discovering another culture is exciting, enlightening and sometimes confusing.  For example, the Kenyan team kept referring to “traditional” referring to the Turkanans’ clothing or housing or beliefs. 

 

Traditional, I learned, means things like the long-standing hatred between the Pokots who live in the bordering county and the Turkanans.  Tradition says, “Steal from your neighbor.  Use guns to do it.” Cattle rustling is a daily occurrence.  Cattle = wealth.  This is their reality…almost daily.  One of the guys in sharing his testimony, said, “All the Pokots are bad but now I see they have the same blood as me.  For example, in 2014 I took my last exam for secondary school.  During the exam, the Pokots came and shot so many people in our class.”

 

Traditional includes things like strong beliefs in appeasing their god and ancestors, begging for rain, obeying the directives of the diviners or prophets, living a nomadic lifestyle forever in quest of water and food for livestock, and homes built with a wooden frame covered with sticks, skins, and palm fronds. 

 

Sitting with the women for some time I learned a lot.  In 1985 (and everyone knows the date), some of the people started to put on some skins for clothing (before they were naked except for necklaces or bracelets or headdresses of beads).  After that, some would put on a piece of fabric for a skirt.  Today the men wear a lesso (a rectangular piece of fabric) on the top and maybe some shorts on the bottom.  For women, they wear jangles (beads) around the top hanging from the neck and maybe a lesso for a bra around the chest.  They wear either a short lesso or long one for a skirt.  I was told, “Today we are wearing Kenyan clothes which were very expensive to buy, but we are in Kenya today and must wear clothes so no one notices us.”

 

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Traditional for the Pokot women means when a woman is about to be married she goes to the home of the husband and sits on an animal skin.  The women in the family then give the new bride bracelets as a gift signifying the amount of the dowry given.  When you see a woman with these bracelets you can tell she is a married woman.

 

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Traditional for the women in Turkana means the women wear many brightly colored beaded necklaces signifying different things.  A plain metal necklace (the silver necklace in the center) included in her necklaces signifies she is a married woman.

 

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How do you possibly learn a culture in a few days?  Without living it, breathing it, experiencing it in every possible way?  We’ve learned a lifetime isn’t long enough.  To appreciate it, however, takes only a moment.  The beauty of the Gospel is that Jesus Christ does not come to destroy or rob people of their rich cultures, but simply to infuse them with the peace, hope, and life that only the Holy Spirit can bring.  The Pokots and Turkanans we met testified that this is what these amazing Turkanan church planters are sharing as they bring them the Gospel Message.

 

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Humility, a Healing, and Provision

Silas is one of those leaders whom can easily be overlooked. He sits quietly in meetings and only speaks up when he has something that truly contributes. But over the years, we have come to realize that, in his humility, he always speaks with incredible discernment and wisdom. Apart from that, he is one of the most fruitful church planters on our Kenyan team.

Silas would never tell the following story, but his team mates did. It seems that as Silas was reaching out to a new area with the Good News of Jesus’ love and grace, he encountered a man whose wife was sick. She was described as ‘very sick.’ In the course of getting to know this couple, Silas offered to pray for the woman. Her recovery began almost immediately and very soon she was completely healed.

Silas, and the other movement leaders in Kenya, never expect to receive gifts from those they minister to. However, this man was so grateful he told Silas that he had two very large trees that he wanted to donate to their movement of disciple makers. He insisted that they receive his gift. When such gifts are insisted upon, it would cause shame to the person to refuse it.

So, a team of church planters went to work to harvest this valuable commodity so that it could be sold for firewood or made into charcoal. From there, the money was distributed and used for many purposes: transportation for the work of ministry, meeting the needs of some of the widows, and providing for investment for future income for the leaders and the movement.

Your prayers and partnership, truly, lead to these types of unexpected miracles and blessings!

Silas:

Silas

Blessings Along the Way

Traveling often brings unexpected surprises…some good and some not so good.  But almost guaranteed, something great is going to happen either way.  Such was the case at the outset of this trip.   After we had made our way from our home to our pick up point an hour and a half away, then three hours onto LAX, another 3 hour wait in the airport, and then the never-ending sixteen-hour flight to Qatar (in the Middle East near Saudi Arabia), we were more than ready for a rest.

So, we went to find our spot for lying down and were greeted by a tall, spindly, handsome young man, glowing with the deep, dark skin of Africa.  He looked incredibly out of place in the Middle East, but confident in his surroundings nonetheless.

After some time I couldn’t help but ask where his home was.  Proudly, but interestingly, he didn’t say Kenya, he said, “The Mara in Africa.”  What I suspected was true.  Even far from home, there was no mistaking the easily recognizable traits of a true Masai warrior.  Even other Kenyan tribes are in awe of these amazing people.  When I asked him pointed questions that he knew I would only know had I been there, he grinned as one far and missing home.  In a land of Middle Eastern people so foreign to both of us, a moment of shared familiarity made us family in the true African way. 

I asked where he lived in the great expanse of the Masai Mara plains that cover so much of Kenya and Tanzania.  When he told me out past and right from Narok, I could picture it well.  In the miles and miles going from Nairobi out to the well-known national park, one must pass and stop here if for no other reason than to take a break in hopes of finding a toilet and cold water.  It’s a crossroads of sorts where those living in the expanse surrounding come from dirt encrusted motorbike trails to join into the main highway leading them to civilization.  I could clearly picture Samwell’s family home, a round hut made of mud and cow dung surrounded by a thicket of branches for protection from wildlife.  I knew his family wealth was in the livestock they owned; his drink was cow’s milk mixed with blood; his dress was a skirt and beads, with a red plaid blanket slung over his shoulder and sandals made from old, black car tires; I knew he had learned as a young boy to carry a club and long spear because his main job would be to take his father’s herd of cattle out to the plains in search of food and he would need to be able to protect himself and them from the lions roaming close by; I knew his life was simple, but profound with many traditions that grounded him to his people.

So, how did this young man end up dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and tie?  I couldn’t resist asking and he answered me with a sweet smile, “Now, that is an interesting story.  One day I was with my father’s cows far, very far.  There was a man driving and very lost.  I went to him to tell him directions back.  We talked for some time and he enlightened me to a life where there is much food to eat and where I can use my mind for great things.  He took me to a place where I started learning hospitality and the years went by.  When I worked in the hotel out there (in Masai Mara), I met another man who told me, ‘I see your English is very good.  I can take you somewhere and you can use that English to provide money for your parents and family. So, here I am”.

The mom in me wanted to scoop him up and take him back to his home, to his people, where longingly it was clear that there was such a part of him that wanted to be.  But, I also knew his people were hungry; they lived without much.  I knew this bright young man wanted more than traditions and a scratch existence.  I admire this tribe from afar with a full tummy, health and a warm house.  He has lived without.  So, how could I deny him his future?  I want a National Geographic with beautiful photos of an exotic existence.  Samwell wants more.  How could I not wish him well as he meshes his strong Masai heritage with our modern world?

Photos from a previous trip to Masai Mara: Masai Mara

Masai Mara and child

4 Masai Mara men

the community

working man

Masai Mara man

our disciple                                                     And a disciple we met a few years ago in Tanzania:

Masai Mara

Small Miracle -- Not Taken for Granted

(Previously shared on Facebook—so you may have already seen it!)

I was so tired after two straight days and nights of travel that I left my shoulder bag on the luggage cart while shoving the other suitcases into the taxi. It was Nairobi. It was raining. And the travel bag contained my laptop, iPad, travel medicine docs, and $2,500 in cash. 

I tiredly pulled my car door shut without a thought except getting to a place to lie down. That is when the miracle happened. 

The young man, who could have easily walked off with the bag had he been inclined to, knocked on my window. I actually ignored him thinking he was another street vendor trying to sell me something. Just before we pulled off he appeared again at my window holding up my bag. Oh my gosh! What a God-send, what a blessing, what a grace from God, and what a gracious young man! 

I thank God that, though there are many needs, problems, divisions, challenges, and cruelties, the world everywhere is filled with people like this!

Pictured is not my cart, but the blue and red bag is exactly where I left my own bag as I jumped in the car!

The Bonus

A few weeks ago I was Whatsapp’ing with a longtime Kenyan friend of ours, John. Every fall we re-discuss how his birthday, his daughter’s birthday and my birthday all happen in early October. When we first met John, he was a tall, gangly young guy, not even married yet. We barely paid any attention to him in the training he was in, but as the years have unfolded he has become not only a close “family friend,” but proven himself to be “a man after God’s own heart” in every possible way. He is highly entertaining with a giggle that would make anyone laugh, and a very passionate, focused and fruitful disciplemaker.

In our texting I was asking John how old he was this year, to which he answered 35. Surprising to me, since I still think of him as around 25. I then asked him how old Melissa, his first-born, is now, to which he answered 7.

Then I volunteered that I was 68 this year and very grateful to get to do what we do. He replied, “Ah, so you really are getting the bonus!” smiley

No doubt! I truly am getting the bonus!

Brooks and John

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