Exploring Old Town

We went to Mombasa last weekend, in partial fulfillment of our orientation requirements, and in partial fulfillment of ourselves and getting away from the busyness our lives are in right now. We stayed with some new friends of ours, Justin and Shannon Brown, in Mombasa’s Old Town which was built in the 1500′s. It was the closest we’ve been as a family to life in an islamic culture since Lesa, Sydney and I went to North Africa 3 years ago. Waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of the call to prayer in 12-part dissonant harmony from the dozen mosques in the vicinity, sweating it out in the oppressive heat and humidity even at 4 in the morning, reminded us alot of where we were when we experienced that original confirmation/call into missions.

The drive to Mombasa from Nairobi is like this: 2 hours of the worst roads followed by 6 hours of the best roads in all of Africa. We left around lunch time on Friday, stopping along the way to treat ourselves with snacks and sodas and a sit-down Kenyan-style meal, and arrived at the Brown’s around 10pm. We didn’t sleep too well, though, as it was all we could to do stop thinking about the heat as we lay sweating on top of our beds, under the mosquito nets, with fans blowing on us.

The next morning we did a little grocery shopping, ate lunch out, and spent the afternoon teaching at AIC Tudor, a large church in the Tudor area of Mombasa Island. Lesa and I had been invited to give a workshop on worship to the worship teams of this large church. It actually went pretty well, we decided to focus on what God says about worship in the bible and how important it is to Him, apart from our individual forms of expression since the Kenyan style of worship is vastly different than our western style. Lesa and I both had some serious points we wanted to get across, without sounding like we were judging their expressions of worship but wanting to help them raise the bar. We talked about God, about worship, sang some songs together, talked about practical steps in preparing a worship service, then opened it up for questions. From the questions we were asked (like “how do we coordinate the singers and the band when starting a song?”) we could tell our objectives had been subtly achieved, in getting them to take worship seriously and wanting to strip away the distractions that drive Lesa and I crazy like keyboard/guitar players taking the entire song to find out what key the singers had started in. “Great question,” we responded, and demonstrated how hard it is for an instrumentalist to pick out the key when the singer starts first, but how easy it is to prompt the singer with a pre-determined chord and key. We sat down afterward with a few instrumentalists and singers and went through some of the handouts on piano and guitar and worship leading we had written.

I know this seems like common sense to you westerners, but the traditional African style of music is largely vocal and rhythmic, not based in keyboard or guitar, so as they try to add these instruments (which for some reason they feel they must add) and a big loud sound system, you get a lot of chaos unless the guitarist or keyboard player is also the worship leader or is highly skilled. We hope what little we had to offer will help the church in the long run, and we’re looking forward to doing more of this kind of thing in the future.

On Sunday we had been invited by the AIC coast area bishop to come to his church and lead some songs and give the Palm Sunday message. We left Sydney with the Browns, who have 2 little girls, and the rest of us drove to AIC Chamgamwe. Not really sure what to expect or what would be required of us, we overprepared but were thankful. We expected a 3 hour service in Swahili and were not disappointed. We led a couple songs, I gave a message on worship and how Jesus’ death ripped the temple curtain and moved worship from the temple to our hearts, how the Father is seeking people to worship him with heart,soul,mind. It was my first time giving a message in an African church, though not my first time speaking with a translator. I actually spoke for maybe in a minute in swahili, greeting the church and introducing my family. Beyond that I can’t think fast enough to not bore the people to tears.

After church we had lunch in the pastor’s office (ugali, sukuma, chai, even some bread-and-butter for us wazungu [white people]). We went back to the house after this and crashed. Late afternoon we went out with the Browns and toured through Old Town. Most of Old Town has streets too narrow for cars, and is full of women covered head to to toe in black, men in white robes and skullcaps, children running all about between prayer times. Mosques everywhere, ornately carved wooden doors on everything.

We spent the next day, our last day, at the beach. You can’t go all the way to Mombasa and not go to the beach, right? We paid a daily rate at one of the hotels and swam in the pool and ate at the hotel. We also hired a local boat captain to take our family out for a bit on a big dugout outrigger sailboat. When we’d had enough we returned to Old Town, where the boys and I grabbed a tuk-tuk (3 wheeled taxi) to go visit Fort Jesus, a 16th century fort built by the Portuguese.

It rained that day, and in Africa when the rains come, so do the termites. Something about the rain that hatches their eggs or frees them from the ground, and suddenly the air is full of these little flying bugs. The first time this happened at our home in Nairobi we thought a plague had come upon us, as these little guys head immediately for your house and squeeze through every crack in every door or window, often leaving their wings behind. We would awake puzzled to find a big pile of wings at the threshold of our doors, until we figured out this is a normal part of life here. In fact, flying termites are a delicacie, and when they come it is like candy that is flying through the air to the children.

Termites... yum!

Well, Justin and I decided we need to know what the big deal is with people loving to eat termites, so we rounded up the dozen or so that were crawling on his kitchen floor, and threw them into a frying pan with a little oil. I called the boys to the table, and we feasted. I think anything that small and fried in oil can’t be too bad. Neither did the boys as we all enjoyed several of the crispy treats.

We’re back in Nairobi now, trying to wrap up our lives here as we’ll be leaving in 3 and a half weeks for America. I’ve got a video and web project I’m trying to wrap up, Lesa has the big “the King and I” production in 2 weeks, and we have a house to pack up. It’s a strange mix of emotions, like the ones we felt moving here, knowing we’ll be right back, but feeling a little anxious about coming to America. Like we don’t really know how we’ve changed until we experience the “reverse culture shock” of re-entry. Anxious that everyone will be wearing space suits or speak some new language or have a completely new cultural cues (tv shows, movies, etc) that are a part of every conversation that suddenly we don’t know about. But we’re most excited to see everyone and catch up relationally with you. Sharing meals and lives and swapping stories. That’s the African way!

Mom, Lesa, and Wycliffe in Kibera

Easter Sunday we went to Nairobi Chapel and then home for an Easter egg hunt and a big late lunch (photos here). Monday we had our friend Wycliffe take mom and dad and Lesa on a tour of Kibera, visiting the church that DCC helped sponsor and even making some home visits with Kibera residents. We wrapped up the day with Kenyan staple foods ugali and sukuma at Wycliffe’s tiny 1 room apartment on the edge of Kibera.

Robbie piloting the DC3

Mom, Robbie, Lesa at Nairobi Safari Walk

The next day we toured the AIM AIR hangar, home to International Services, our division of AIM. While the kids crawled in and out of the airplanes, we visited with pilots and mechanics. We wrapped up with lunch at the Simba Saloon.

The next day we went to the Nairobi Safari Walk, adjacent to the Nairobi Game Park. We saw pigmy hippos, albino zebra, a rhino, a leopard and a cheetah among other things. Then we spent the afternoon finishing packing for our overnight train ride to Mombasa.

Sydney eating breakfast on the Lunatic Line

Our private room on the train

The train was quite an experience. It takes 45 minutes to fly from Nairobi to Mombasa, or a bone-jarring 8 or 9 hours in a car, or a slow 16 hours by train. Honestly, if I had to do it again I still would have picked the train. If we could have been better prepared we might have slept better, but the kids had a blast, which is why I would choose it again (versus being crammed together in a car, stopping for potty breaks, not to mention riding in our Land Rover for that long would be guaranteed to give you a headache). The train, while slow and constantly stopping, at least gave us private sleepers, supper and breakfast, and the opportunity to go potty when you wanted. Not to mention getting to stretch out and relax, since I wasn’t having to drive!

Our beach house

Indian Ocean

Our time in Mombasa was great. Roger (dad’s brother) met us at the train station and drove us to the house they’d rented for the week. Just north on Mombasa, right on the beach, the house had a small pool that the kids enjoyed, and the immediate oceanfront was an awesome coral reef full of starfish and lionfish and jellyfish and all kinds of cool stuff. It was shallow enough that even Robbie and Avery could snorkel around and enjoy. The house even came with a cook, who prepared and cleaned up every meal for us. Now that’s what I call a vacation!

We flew back, because mom and dad had an early Monday flight to Malawi where they visited with good friends who have been in Africa for 30 years or something crazy like that. While they were away we packed and moved out of our house. We scattered all our stuff all over the place as the house we are staying in temporarily is fully furnished (and on a compound, not in a Kenyan neighborhood as before). Couches went to one house, dining room set to another, and a bunch of stuff went into a sea container for storage. Beginning of June we’ll move back to the estates (Kenyan neighborhoods) and try to remember where we put everything.

Overlooking Rift Valley

Lunch at Tumaini gardens

After mom and dad came back from Malawi, we spent the last week doing stuff around Nairobi. We drove up to the overlook of the Rift Valley, had a picnic lunch at RVA, drove some really rough roads down to the “lower road” and back to Nairobi. We also went to Roger & Shirley’s church and had a nice picnic lunch at Tumaini, where they live and work. One morning I even put mom and dad on a matatu by themselves and sent them out to Karen by themselves. They toured Robbie and Avery’s school, and had lunch with them there.

Mom taking photos

Mom taking photos

The last day of their time here we got up early and went on a game drive. We picnicked and saw a lot of giraffe, zebra, baboon, antelope, warthog, and even some crocodile. We wrapped our time up with them with supper at Java House, and then I drove them to airport. Exhausted, but very very happy. And a little sad that the event I’d been looking forward to since arriving in Kenya last June had come and gone, and we won’t see them again for another 14 or 15 months.  We’ll miss you, mom and dad.