Bits and Pieces as the Rain Pours Down

The pounding of the rain against our windows is a beautiful thing. On Sunday morning I was walking with my friend, Tait, through the dry grass on the hills near her home. As we looked out from her verandah later (with the good smell of biscuits baking in the oven) we spoke our thanks that rain was on its way. The sky was giving it away and we were happy with anticipation.

Rain. Yes! We bless these rains and pray that they come in just the right measure. May they do all the good they need to do, and cause no destruction.

In other happy news, technology was working and on our side the other day. We can't always say that. We often have no electricity as the city rations power, and no electricity means no internet. Even when the power is back, the internet is often fickle. This happens for multiple reasons, most of which we are not privy to. However, spotty coverage at our house was recently traced to the fact that a neighbor burned down his hedge. His hedge is just below the cable that brings internet to us and it kind of melted here and there so it was moody about letting signals pass.

Back to the day that all systems were (mostly) go...

I got a text message from Colin that night as I was lying curled up on our bed under the mosquito net watching The West Wing on computer with Byron and Heather.

"Call me," it read. Colin (in Kenya) had just missed a call from Trevor (in San Francisco) and he didn't have a way to reach his brother and ask him to try again. He wanted me (in Tanzania) to let Trevor know he was now standing by for the call. But power had just gone off here so I wasn't on line either.

We brake for brother time so the DVD was paused as we went outside to pull-start our generator into action. Restoring power temporarily, we were able to get on-line and, lo and behold, Skype was in a good mood that evening as well so we raised Trevor pretty much immediately.

"Call your brother," I said, so pleased to be able to connect them.

We turned off the generator and went back to our laptop TV time while Trevor Skyped out from his computer to Colin's phone 10,000 miles away. They had a great talk and I grinned at the way we worked together to beat the TIA factor.

I'll round this post off with a great quote from home school today. Heather and I were talking about potatoes and how Columbus had no idea what a future they would have in Europe when he hauled the "new" food back from the New World. Basking in the glow of the goodness of potatoes, Heather gushed softly, "I love potatoes... greasy, fried, salty potatoes." I could see the warm appreciation of the humble spud shining in her eyes.

Life is good!

An Anniversary of Sorts

We landed in Africa for the very first time together 25 years ago today. I have the stamp in these old passports to prove it :-) Of course, Byron had been here, but it was my first time ever.

Quite a lot of people who read this blog weren’t even born yet, but there I was, a couple days shy of my 22nd yesterday, with a suitcase and backpack and a cute young husband who was pretty sure I would love it here.

He was right, you know.

I was awake last night, thinking back to that October. It was 1984 and, Orwellian implications aside, it was an important year for us as it marked the beginning of our global meanderings together. We’d already been married 2 years as I finished my degree in Santa Barbara, but that was just a beginning. It was a lovely beginning, mind you, and one that we’ll always appreciate it. But, my, it seems a foreign life now. We've called so many places "home" since then.

Twenty-five years ago, we set out on this grand adventure.

I’m ever so glad that we did.

Young Concerns (or May Her Tribe Increase)

Heather and I read her science and history lessons together daily. I'm happy to do this rather than have her watch the teaching on DVD like she did last year because we get to stop along the way and talk about the things that interest us... particularly the things that interest her.

Now, as I learn with Heather, I am really quite surprised by the little revelations of what makes her tick.

As it turns out...

Topsoil being washed away breaks Heather's heart. Rain forests felled wantonly make her cry. Loss of wilderness and unchecked development make her angry and/or terribly grief-stricken. Pollution makes her crazy.

I am stunned by this 10 year old's heart for Creation.

I pray blessings and blessings and blessings and hope big hopes that her generation will do so much better than mine.

Watching Africa Blow Away

We drive across the East African plains and wonder at the moonscape they have become. Along the roadside, the trees stand brittle and covered in a heavy coat of dust. The faces of the little shacks along the way are the same. Fine, powdery dust has lifted easily in the dry wind and painted everything a lifeless brown. The monotony of color is strange and disturbing.

Even from my desk by the window in my bedroom at our house set in a watered garden, I can see the dust. Carried on the tired wind, it billows against Mt. Meru, the quiet volcanic mountain that our city sprawls at the base of. Instead of misty blankets of moisture, Meru is shrouded in a gritty cloud of dust. Though I don't see it coming through my window, I feel the build up on my keyboard and stop to wipe it often.

Africa, it seems, is blowing away.

Even the elephants are skinny. We passed four or five herds as we traveled last month and I was saddened by their sunken contours. BBC reports that livestock and wildlife alike are dying in droves. We pray, asking God to protect them and to not allow human life to be lost.

"The worst drought in ten years." That's what they're saying.

Now, everyone knows that East Africa experiences cyclical droughts, but this is different. A combination of man-made and natural factors have collided to set up the perfect non-storm. No rain of significance over the last couple of years and 2 harvests in a row have failed now.

"And, what will happen?" I wonder to myself. Will East Africans stop felling the trees that draw their rains? Will the farmers finally learn to protect their topsoil by ploughing with the contour of the land instead of up and down the hillside? Will the pastoralists who have lost so much grazing land reduce their herds and stop stripping the fragile environment right down to bare earth?

And will the world notice?

The middle aged folks in wealthy western countries are the kids who passionately attended or at least watched the Live Aid concerts back in the mid-eighties. Stirred by famine in Ethiopia, Bob Geldof's dream event raised about 150 million pounds in financial assistance. Those who hold the world's discretionary funds have been here when they were young and unstoppable.

But what came next? HIV/AIDS followed on the heals of famine and while it spread quietly at first, it spread quickly. By the end of the nineties, Africa was in full blown crisis and Bono was asking that we drop the debt. In a staggeringly massive effort of evil, Rwanda invited her citizens to kill each other and, en mass, they did. Since then, that bastion of stability, Kenya, has shown the real shape of her heart by dividing along tribal lines and killing several thousand of her own during elections. And Zimbabwe... What a mess. Corruption of all sorts all over the continent? Yes. All the while, global warming and global economic crisis have piled their burdens of destruction onto this continent that should be plenty able to feed herself.

Geldof's concert-going activists are tired and in financial crisis. They've grown up and have all the mortgages and car loans to prove it. They have kids with expensive education bills and many of them have lost their jobs, their homes and/or their retirement funds. Their sure foundations have crumbled underneath them and there is fear in its stead.

BBC can tell us this is the worst drought in East Africa's last decade, but does anyone out there have the stamina to help her face it?

I sit at my desk, watching Africa blow away, and pray mercy.

And... the New Reality

The layers of leave-taking have been staggered over the last for weeks and I'm thankful for that.

Trevor returned to California on 26 August. Colin unpacked into his dorm room at RVA in Kenya on 6 September. And Jesse, well, Jesse came home to Arusha with Heather, Byron and me. It was a new experience to be here as a family of 4 with just our oldest and our youngest kids. Jesse is almost 12 years older than Heather yet they have a remarkably pleasant friendship between them. It's awfully cute to see them together, baking cookies or jumping on the trampoline or whatever.

But today brought the new reality as Jesse and his friend, Curtis, caught the shuttle to Nairobi. The great thing is that Jesse will get up to RVA and spend the late afternoon and evening with Colin. Woo hoo! So nice that he can do that. I'm happy for them. Jesse will stay over night and then catch his 11:25pm flight on Tuesday.

The not so great part is that Heather is trying on the only child role today and not liking it any too well. Let's just say it's been a little teary around here as she wonders what she's going to do when she wants to play a game of cards or challenge someone to beat her at that game they play on the trampoline when they try to kill the other person's bounce. Some people call it Seat Wars but my kids call it The Butt Game.

I'm thankful for the months together and the full store of memories that our banks hold. I don't mind saying that not all the memories are sweetness and joy. We grump around and get stressed and impatient as well as anyone else. In it all, I've always been thankful for the way the brothers have made sure that they make time for their baby sister. It makes a big difference, even if it means she needs to cry when they go away.

Strong Currents

There’s a place that we like to frequent when a day in the shade is required. The current in the pool at the spring (as the water comes out from an underwater source) pushes you firmly along if you get in the right spot at the mouth of the cave. We had a tradition with Max and Gina whenever we were there, (and I’ve lost track of how many times we were there with them,) that mandated a race of Dead Man’s Float. We would all let go of the roots along the edge of the pool at the same moment and vigorously DO NOTHING as we raced to the other end in a great float-off.

It always amazes me how well that current pushes us along.

Life has felt much like that, of late. Not that we’ve been doing nothing. No, that’s not what I mean. I mean that there has been a strong current taking us along. It’s a good current; one that I trust.

It’s good to know I can trust the current when we talk on the phone to Colin and hear that he’s having a hard time. Most of our phone calls have been very encouraging and we are the super proud parents of a young man who is making a huge transition well. And when the calls are not as encouraging, when Colin is terribly home sick and we ache to have him here, we are still the super proud parents of a young man making a huge transition well.

Sometimes, letting go of the holds along the bank is the best thing ever.

These are Nice :-)

I really like these old fashionedy photos that Trevor and Nelly have been taking. In the perfect photo digital day, it catches my attention to see grainy or faded photos that would be deleted off of a snappy camera by some.

Do you think that maybe they also happen to catch my eye because they are of Trevor and Colin... the Borden boys who are away off yonder right now? I'm guessing so :-)