"Authentic" Experiences

Last week I had one of those nights which remind me that, yes, I am living in Kenya. Duncan had decided to leave town in the evening, but he had already promised to drive Jane, the girl who works in our house, to visit with her boyfriend. He told me that the guy lived about 15 minutes away in an area called Garaliga, and he asked if I would be willing to take her around 4pm and pick her up at about 7. I agreed - although I did feel a little bit like a parent with a teenage child - and expected to spend about 30 minutes each trip in a fairly straightforward job.

I was wrong. First, Jane and I drove in to Limuru and waited about 15 minutes for her boyfriend, Jessie, and two more of his friends. Then we drove another 15 minutes off of the main road down narrow, rocky dirt paths, ending in a small yard fenced and gated with pieces of wood and metal sheeting. They closed a gate behind my car, which is when I realized that I wasn't just dropping Jane off and leaving. Jessie and Jane took me back into a group of tiny mud and tin houses around a central courtyard that was filled with about 75 people sitting on narrow benches, and we took our seats in the back row. Almost immediately an older man got up and set off into a rousing sermon, beating his Bible and yelling in Kikuyu, the tribal language of the area. Thoroughly confused (as I often am here), I sat and listened to the sermon, then shared the required cup of tea with the people around me and talked with Jessie for a while. He told me his father had died that week and this was a service to honor him and to start the process of the funeral, which takes several days in their culture. It turns out all of the little houses around the courtyard belonged to his family members, so Jessie showed me his house and took me on a tour around the family "shamba," or farm. They were collecting money to pay for the upcoming funeral, so I gave them a few shillings and made my way back to the car. In the end, I left Garaliga 2 hours after setting off - not the 30 minute trip I expected!

When I sat down in that courtyard - squeezed onto a tiny wooden bench, listening to shouting in a language I don't understand, surrounded by people who are far, far different than me - my first reaction was frustration. I had made plans for myself for the evening, I was uncomfortable in all kinds of ways, I was confused as to what was going on. It was easy to start feeling angry towards the people who brought me there, mad at myself for getting into this, or bitter towards the culture that I found myself, literally, right in the middle of. After a few minutes of this, though, I feel like God touched my heart and gave me the eyes to see things in a different light. I realized that there had to be a reason He had put me in such a strange situation, and I resolved to try and figure out how He could use me there. I looked around and saw the beauty of the old Kenyan women, lined up on their benches with bright head scarves attentively watching and listening to the speaker. I realized that I've often heard travelers talk about their desire for "authentic" experiences - myself included - and that it couldn't get more authentic than this. Looking back I am humbled by the honor and the privelege that I was accorded in being invited into this service by a man who had just lost his father and who barely knew me.

I realize now what a blessing it was to have an experience like this one, and I can now see how God really could use me in that situation to be an encouragement to Jessie and his family. As a foreigner and someone who has gotten to know his girlfriend quite well, Jessie was truly excited to show me his home and genuinely appreciated the money I could give them - a very small amount by American standards, but more than any of the Kenyans present could spare. In reflecting on that night I can see how "authentic" experiences have started to become the norm for me - my reaction to a situation like this was initially one of simple annoyance, and I could so easily look past how beautiful and unique it really was. I guess this is a sign that I am getting used to Kenya, but I never want to lose the wonder that I was met with upon first arriving, because I believe that God can work in that awe in a powerful way. This night renewed my desire to make the most of each day I have here, to take advantage of each opportunity and really try to know and love the people I am with. Please thank God with me for the chance to live this life, and pray with me that I may use this time to His glory!