A Camel Named Morgan

There once was a camel named Morgan.  He was hired to give joy rides to 97 orphans and all their caretakers one Thursday afternoon.

Little did Morgan know that he would have to cart around two Mzungus first while his buddy rested on the grass.  All that to say, little did the Mzungus know they were going to be asked to ride a camel or one of them probably wouldn't have worn a skirt.

Morgan needed some encouragement to get started.  He needed it because going from lying on the ground with knees tucked under to standing tall with two people sitting on and not helping at all takes a lot of work.  And the two people felt like they were going to be pitched off at any moment as Morgan got to his feet.  First his back legs went straight up, and it seemed the people would tumble head-over-heels.  The skirt-wearer was not amused.  Then his front legs caught up and all was well.

Even with all that hard work, Morgan kept on smiling.

His friend, the Professor, liked to bellow at anyone who would listen.

But Morgan preferred to kneel back down and take advantage of the nice grass.  After all, he had 97 kids to go!



Firsts

Christmas morning came, and we were able to light the final candle in our unconventional advent wreath. (The tiny wreath around the white candle was made from a limb of our Christmas tree that fell off.)

After hymns and presents and a big breakfast with friends, it was time to head to the dining hall for Christmas lunch with all the kids.

Each cottage has its own table where the families eat together.  There were enough missionaries and visitors to put one guest at each table with a family.  Cottage Bethel asked me to come and join them at their table.  I couldn't have been more delighted to sit with Momma Ruth and her girls.

The kitchen staff had prepared all the food and placed it on the tables, ready for dishing up.  In Kenya, the tradition is that the mother serves everyone else's plate before her own.  The mommas did not pass dishes around, they walked around and served each member at the table.  That meant that Momma Ruth filled my bowl to the top with stew and gave me a potato the size of Mt. Kenya.  I asked her if I might be allowed to help her serve and she graciously agreed.  I grabbed the tray of roasted goat and started dividing it out.  I gave Momma Ruth the huge section of ribs, and I gave myself three small pieces.

During the meal, I quizzed the girls on their favorite Christmas carols and what they thought about moving up a class in January.  Also during the meal, Momma Ruth kept encouraging me to "Eat! Eat!" while I tried to ignore the cinnamon rolls and egg casserole I had eaten for breakfast.  She finally, for the first time ever, told me I was not a good eater.  If she only knew.

Tabitha in her "cheeky monkey" T-shirt sat on my left and loves the carol "Away in a Manger."

Ann on my right hand sucked her Fanta Orange down with relish. This was the biggest treat of all for the kids as everyone got their own soda.  This has never happened before, and for many, it was their first soda. 

I think this Christmas has held a lot of "firsts" for me.  My first 85 degree Christmas.  My first dining hall with 97 orphans who were absolutely so excited they were about to combust Christmas.  My first goat lunch.  And the first Christmas that I haven't been surrounded by Western Christmas traditions at every turn.  It helped me see more clearly what Christmas has always really been about: the birth of the Saviour of the world, God with us.

'Twas the Night Before

Happy Boxing Day!  And Merry Christmas.  And I'm actually going to start with Christmas Eve.

Our hand-made, funky wrapping-paper wreath was hung on the wall with care:

Our tomato lights and hand-made ornaments (except the awesome soap-stone angel!) were twinkling with glee:

The table was set with beautiful summer flowers because it was 80 degrees and borrowed dishes because we don't have service for 10:

Everything was ready.  So we went carolling.  All 10 cottages and all the missionaries and friends piled into gazebo no. 2 to sing. 

I led the singing and Richard read the Christmas story in between songs like a Lesson and Carols service.

Having 100 people carolling is really fun.  One little boy told me he wished we would have sung all the way to the night.  Why did we have to stop?

But dinner was calling from our house.  All the missionaries, short-term or long-term, that were at the village came over for my family's Christmas Eve dinner tradition of spaghetti and all the fixings.

After dinner we ate a traditional fruit cake made by a friend and donated by a travel agency we use a lot to ferry people around.  In Kenya, you order cake by the kilo and this was a six-kilo cake.  It was delicious.

One friend brought Christmas crackers to share.  I think it must be a British thing, but it will definitely be on my must-do list for next Christmas.  You pull the "cracker" apart and it pops like a firework.  Inside is a paper crown, a joke and a prize or toy.  (Joke example: Q: What do you call a man with a spade on his head? A: Doug!) I got a tiny plastic trumpet whistle and Richard got a green plastic ring which he promptly made me wear.  It was a blast.

We finally scurried off to bed with visions of slaughtered goats in our heads.  Merry Christmas!

Like You've Never Heard It Before

We had the final recitation of the school year yesterday. This is Class 6 adding a little Christmas cheer on the end of their presentation about airplanes and forces (as in science forces, not sneakers).  Anyway, enjoy "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" in true African style.  Merry Christmas!

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...

I have always been a real Christmas tree girl.  I have prayed for snow to be on the ground by Christmas morning for as long as I've been old enough to pray, even when we lived outside of Savannah, GA.  When given clay in 5th grade art class with the understanding we could craft anything, I made a cheesy nativity scene my mom still displays.  I love Christmas: decorating, cooking and eating, get-togethers, family celebrations, Lessons and Carols and advent wreaths.  I love Christmas and its wrappings because of what it means: Christ came to earth to take my place in His Father's wrath against sin and give me life.

All of that to say, having a traditional (as I know it) Christmas in Kenya is beyond reason and I think even desire.  We didn't ship one Christmas decoration to Kenya and I'm glad.  I was pretty well convinced we didn't need a tree (it would be way easier to get a blooming hibiscus) and that hanging out with friends and eating roasted goat with the kids here on Christmas would be an excellent way to celebrate.

Enter the tomato lights.  A few days ago I went to the local "supermarket" called Naivas in our community.  It's run by Kenyan Indians and has lots of things from American pancake syrup made in Iran to fresh Indian Mandazis.  A table was placed at the front and it held small, fake Christmas trees and a host of decorations.  The display model boasted a strand of red-velvet covered, Christmas-tree shaped lights.

Needless to say, my Christmas urges mastered me.  I dug through the table, grabbed a two-footer and reached for lights.  Choices, choices!  They had strands of multi-coloured mango, grape clusters, moon-and-star and the tomato vine.  The mango lights were pretty tempting, but the tomatoes won out.  They are velvet-covered and all red.  They do a host of tricks.  I was sold.

We now have our Charlie Brown Christmas tree on its own little table, decked out in tomato lights and two ornaments, with a few wrapped presents.  I'm chagrined to say that, for a girl who has always preferred only real Christmas trees with white lights, this little piece of Christmas is pretty special.

Preprimary Power

With the mommas looking on,

the preprimary girls competed first.

Their final task was to sit on a balloon until it popped.

Naomi won.  Smile!

Mr. Onditi coached the preprimary boys into top form.

Go!

Jump!

Sit!

Ahhhh....after all that hard work, eat a snack.

Field Day Prologue

So last Friday the whole school of 180+ students including the four-year-old class, put down their pencils, closed their books and meandered outside in a nice straight, quiet line.

Well, mostly straight and mostly quiet.  A few competitors had their game faces on already.

A few students were running frantically about trying to find their sports clothes and a toilet in which to change.  I must say, I love Maureen's shoes and socks.

The class 9 boys had set up the well-planned obstacle course,

and tried it out, 

with the direction of Mr. Onditi - Class 2 teacher and mastermind of amazing field days.

He's smiling in the picture because he's reminding everyone that last year, his Class 2 students won the tug-of-war competition.  They even beat Class 9.  Yikes!