Now, what is going on?

Editor's warning: This post has zero pictures. I know, I know. We are saving up for a new camera. Any suggestions?

Now, what is going on?

Much. Breanna is:
tutoring some kids from Kenya off and on,
teaching drama at a new homeschool gathering which several missionary families participate in every week,
as well as homeschooling all THREE kids now (Isaiah has to do his math, too :).

On Wednesday's there is horseback riding for Olivia around noon, then in the afternoon its monkeynastix (motor skill developing exercises) for Grace and Isaiah. Because it takes almost an hour to go to these events in traffic, Breanna is one tired lady on Wednesday's when I get home.

As for me? I am flying a desk a lot. Logged probably a couple hundred hours since my last blog post - of desk time. As one of the other pilots puts we, we hit a perfect storm when it comes to starting our flying duties here at AIM AIR. We have one Kenyan registered 206 that we can fly, but it only has single controls, so it isn't suited for training. I need to do one more thing for my Kenyan commercial license, but AIM AIR would like me to do a couple training flights so I can familiarize myself with the area first. HOWEVER, our two brand new 206's are US registered and the Kenya governing body for civil aviation has not been desirous of us operating those beautiful birds inside the country. That will hopefully change next week, maybe TOMORROW! That would be great news for me.

For myself and the other new guy, this is not what we envisioned our first year at all. But God's ways rock, and they are not our ways, which are usually lame. So I am taking this time to get into the PR job a little more, help out with desk stuff, make coffee (just kidding, not my job - well OK I could make a pot occasionally), remind people to order their AIM AIR calendar, write letters for AIM AIR, and continue to prepare myself with Nairobi airspace and AIM AIR procedures. When we do get to strap into the new birds, it will be nice. They are our strongest, lightest, quietest, and smoothest 206's in the fleet (can you say - about to be really spoiled).

There is another thing that really gets my heart pumping related to PR. I can't share much now, but it is a direction I hope AIM AIR pursues that I am really excited about. In fact, I will boldly say that I think God brought us out here and now to be a part of this.

AIM AIR, you said? Yeah, it's on its feet. A little shaken, but not destroyed. In fact it feels like business as usual most of the time. Until the International Director came by just to share his sorrow with us, and today we had a nyama choma (goat roast) together in the hangar as a way to acknowledge life does move on and it's OK. Both times I realized how close tears were to the surface. When the accident is brought up it puts a lump in everyone's throat. It will probably be like that for awhile.

We do miss the convenient life of the US, but we love the work that God is doing out here. Clinics, churches, schools are going like crazy in Sudan, exciting things are happing in northern Kenya (32 Samburu warriors and wives accepted Jesus a couple weeks ago), and the Tanzanian Africa Inland Church just celebrated its 100th anniversary. It is great to be a part. And THAT'S what is going on!

P.S. If anyone has creative input regarding  www.aimair.org or our calendar and movie, please shoot me an e-mail. I would love to read it!

Isaiah's answers a question on fighting and shares his life's ambitions.

Jerry to Isaiah (who is taking a tumultuous bath with Grace): Do you fight with Grace?

Isaiah, with his head cocked slightly in his thoughtful pose: No, I fight by myself.

A month ago we had our house painted by a former AIM AIR intern, Paul, who was desperate for work. Isaiah was really taken with watching him. It must have been significant to him, since up to that point his ambition in life was to be a race car driver, a pilot, and a train engineer. Suddenly he started saying he wanted to be a painter.

"This boy makes many problems," Paul would tell me. Isaiah was his shadow and "helped" him out by pouring thinner into a bucket of water, and "painting" with a brush that was set aside.

Now his ambitions have changed again. He says he wants to do what I do. I asked him, "What's that?"

"I want to ride motorcycles and fix motorcycles."

I guess I really did spend a lot of time getting that motorbike running.

Breanna's Other Kids

Kilimanjaro, our seven month old German Shepherd pokes his head out the gate to see who’s here. Philip, the Kenyan second grader I tutor on occasion, stiffens, drops his backpack on the ground, and runs, screaming, down the street.

Truphena, our househelper, his mother, laughs heartily, calling, “Philip, come back!” Joash shrugs at his brother’s overreaction and comes inside, making a beeline for our Playstation. Eventually, after tethering Kili, I coax Philip inside.

Helping Philip with his homework is one way I get to express my gratitude for all his mother does to help us, in keeping the house clean throughout the week. Tutoring is a way for me to minister, through the talents God’s given me, to those he brings into our lives. And he’s brought several Kenyans into our lives that we are able to help by giving them work, and enabling them to better provide for their families. For about $5 a day, each, Truphena cleans our house, and once a week, Wycliffe does yard work, and Frank, one of the neighborhood guards, washes our car.

Brian, the five year old son of our yard worker, comes for tutoring Saturday.

Indeed the one hour I pour into Brian every week requires a lot of prayer to get through patiently and I constantly try to remind myself how God and Brian’s parents see this precious child, so full of potential.

Wycliffe’s son, brian, is a bundle of energy, definitely a hands-on learner, and I’ve found he needs a good fifteen minutes to explore and touch everything in reach before I can hope to hold any of his attention. He’s difficult to reign in without much patience and determination. In a country where teachers are overworked and schools are crowded, it’s easy to imagine him being passed over by teachers and labeled too difficult to manage.

Brian and Philip are both improving in their schoolwork and it warms my heart, not because “I” did that, but because, in spite of who I am, God used me to change these two little guys lives just a wee bit!
-Breanna

Our Home in Nairobi

Our living room with furniture we had a fundi (craftsman)make for us.Grace at work in our "classroom", which is a servant's quarters behind the house

Our "fierce" puppy, Kilimanjaro, standing guard while the kids work in the servant's quarter classroom. Utility sink and washing machine on the right.

View out our bedroom window at sunset

Front of the house

Looking out from front door to our gate and avocado tree

Backyard, kids playing boats in the gutter :) Those black circles at the back of the yard are underground tanks that hold water we can draw from when the city water is off (which it usually is!) See the banana tree?

Isaiah playing by the front door gate

Many keys to our "fortress"

In case of emergency, or funny noise in the night, we can turn on exterior lights and alarm or just lights

Happy Sixth, Grace!!

Grace just lost her two bottom front teeth, with one more loose!

I misspoke on one e-mail communique that Grace was turning 7!!! She is in fact, now 6!!
We're so grateful to have Grace in our lives. Her creativity, outgoing personality and things she says leave us ne'er a dull moment!

Eating pizza and listening on the cell phone to Birthday Greetings from Grandmaita, Grandpa & Tia in Indiana

Water park in Nairobi, where we went for her birthday day.

A new friend, Sammy, went with us to the water park

Baby Rhino at the elephant orphanage

We went to the Elephant Orphanage for her birthday party two Saturdays ago

Unwrapping gifts at birthday party

How we know we are in Kenya

We know we must be in Kenya when:

1. You get shocked when you play the electric guitar (barefoot)
2. The conductor on a matatu fixes the van while it continues to coast down the highway
3. The bathwater turns brown immediately after you get in
4. When the city water is ON it is a complete surprise
5. Grace wants to sing along with the tune of the "call to prayer" amplified from the mosque
6. Taxi driver pretends to drive with his hands (while he really IS driving) to ask us, using charades, if we want a ride.
7. You learn that jaywalking through half crazed traffic is the preferred way across a highway because of the crap people leave on the pedestrian overpass (literally)
8. You have more keys to the house than square feet of lawn.
9. The neighborhood duka (shop) owner interrogates you if you don't buy your daily milk from his shop.
10. We can watch movies on DVD, before we watch them in the theater.
11. Music never sounded so good, fruit never tasted sweeter, and people never welcomed us so warmly.

Peace wanted

We are getting used to our surroundings. Everything seems like it could become normal to us, then today happens. As usual, we took our matatu ride to language school ... no problems there. We are becoming used to the rattly mini buses, the cranked subwoofers, coasting downhill as fast they possibly can, and cutting other matatus off at each bus stop.

At language school one of the teachers shared at chai time that she had been carjacked this morning. She was taking a matatu to work at 6am and several guys came on the mini bus and after they pulled away, out came the guns. They let everybody go at 6:30, freed from their cash and cell phones.

Some of the more verbose teachers expounded on this type of crime, then moved on to home burglary. I am sure this was for our benefit, the three new students.

One thing to remember, the thieves can be reasonable, and you can negotiate, but they also don't mind killing people who don't cooperate.

The principal of the school said last year his neighborhood was broken into about three times. Once was while he was sleeping and they came into his bedroom. They told him to go back to sleep and started looting the place. After awhile, they became too comfortable. One walked by him with a flashlight in his mouth and arms laden with stolen goods.

"I thought: Now this man can not be too dangerous!" he said. And so he hit him and pushed him out the door, then locked it.

"Then I raised the alarm!"

I asked "You have an alarm in your room?"

With a broad smile, he said. "My alarm is this ..." And he let out an ear splitting yell. A couple teachers laughed.

One teacher said, "This is the natural alarm, not an ... artificial one. This one is natural!"

The principal said the neighborhood came alive and they chased the thieves for about 15 kilometers, "wearing ... not many clothes," he said, again with a broad grin.

He quickly pointed out that as Christians, you have to be concerned about the thieves, because if they are caught, they are "finished."

Then the teachers went into another story about another breakin last year. One thief was caught, beaten to death... "then how do you say in English ... grilled, no... barbequed." This last word came out with a boisterous laugh.

The three of us wazungu (white people) stood transfixed during all of this. I am sure our expressions gave away our shock!

So, the moral was the police are not the best help to catch thieves.

"Sometimes they arm them even better and send them back to rob again. How do you think they will treat him," pointing at the principal "if they come back now to his house again?"

The principal picked up the point, "So the people have no patience with the police. But the people have no prison. The cannot keep the thieves, so the only thing they want to do is kill them. They put tires around them, pour gasoline or parafine on them ... then barbeque them."

I looked down at my mug, wishing I could get more chai and walk back to class. But even if I did, it would not change our reality. I suddenly realized how desperate these thieves must be if they know a deadly beating is just a yell away.

"But, there are many wonderful things about Kenya, too! It is a beautiful place!" a teacher said with a smile.

This afternoon I saw "Peace wanted" graffitied on a wall. I thought maybe that is the cry of Nairobi, even the groaning of Africa. Then I realized that it is the agonized desire of every human heart, whether acknowledged or not. Peace wanted from the forces of evil, from the destruction of sin, from all that hates good. Peace wanted in the middle of a struggle not with flesh and blood, thieves, bandits, but a struggle in a world invisible to our naked eye.

It may sound over simplified, but the root cause is always spiritual evil. And for me peace comes from knowing God is sovereign. I also realize Nairobi is a great place to live compared to other parts of the continent. Sure I lock a gazillion locks on a gazillion doors every night, but today I prayed for protection. And that the thieves hearts would be changed. And their bodies disabled... at least until the hearts are changed.

That's why we are here...

Today was day two of language school. After locking our two front doors and our big front steel gate, we walked with the kids to some friends where they would spend the morning. Then Bre and I rode one matatu after another to head over to the language school. One of the last stops on the way already had to two matatus there, and a big fight broke out. People were running between all three vans pounding on the roof and sidewalls. Customers were "escorted" from one van to another, while other people blocked their way.

More banging, lots of yelling, tons of people running. It was ... interesting, except that we were both in the van! Then someone from our van started punching another guy in the back who was redirecting customers.

I mentioned this at the language school, and the teacher said "Yes, matatus always fight for business."

We are in class with another new missionary friend who flew out with us from New York. Today, after almost two hours of Kiswahili immersion, we learned the negative plural form for from (as in I am from ...). It is hatutoki (hah-too-toh-ki).

Breanna muttered "That's what we are here to learn..." After I said the word to myself a few times, I caught on and I couldn't stop laughing for the rest of the class!