I was so excited when about 6 months ago, Chris and Lindy invited me to come to Kenya to spend the summer. Actually, excited doesn't even begin to describe it. If you know me in real life, you probably heard me talk about it a lot- I absolutely could not wait! I found out I would be coming back with the two of them, and with Kevin and Lauren. I would be the only member of the group who had not spent time in Kenya.
I used those 6 months to ask countless questions and hear countless stories from the four of them. I heard about different facets of Chris and Lindy's ministry- Ebenezer Farms, the Bible College, the Saint Boys, and on and on and on. I have heard about and seen pictures of their team members, from Thomas and Zippy, to Vitalis and Pastor Indiazi, to many others. I heard about the food. I saw the pictures and heard the statistics of the slums they enter.
They prepared me as best as they could. But there are some things no one ever tells you.
No one told me that Kenya is its own contradiction, where some of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, and some of the most awful things I have ever seen, lay just a few minutes' drive apart; where children who live in absolute poverty and filth could have bigger smiles and more joy than children of extreme wealth; where churches are plentiful, but Hope is lacking.
No one told me that I would grow to love the smell of the people of Kenya- where body odor becomes beautiful as you are warmly greeted by new friends or get a big hug from one of the Saint Boys after spending the afternoon playing silly games with them. No one told me I would smile, and then immediately stop and pray for them when I go to change clothes at night and I can still smell their hugs on my tshirt.
No one told me I would wish I had a Kenyan accent, just because English sound so much better coming from their mouths.
No one told me that hearing "Mzungu! Mzungu!" called after me as I walk through a street to deliver food would make me giggle, as I watch the kids call to their friends to come and see the funny looking pale people walking through.
No one told me that I would instantly love Thomas and all his stories. He tells them often- while we're sitting at the table eating, when we're in the car, and while we're working with the chickens.
No one told me it could be so different to live with people even if you have known them for what seems like forever- no one told me I would have so much fun cooking, cleaning, and doing dishes with Lindy. Or that we would slaughter and clean our first chickens together, side by side. No one told me that, when I couldn't sleep one night and everyone else was going to bed, Chris would agree to stay up with me for just 5 more minutes. No one told me that he would be okay with it if those 5 minutes slowly turned into an hour and a half, as I asked question after question after question.
No one told me that I would fall in love with these people and this place in such a short amount of time.
No one told me that I would get choked up as we drove out of Kibera, when Chris told me to look back as we drove up a hill so I could see just one side of the slum. No one told me that seeing that rusted tin stacked all over the place, housing for over a million people with smoke rising as people burn trash, would hit me so unbelievably deep as Chris said, "that's hell."
There are a lot of things that Chris, Lindy, Kevin and Lauren didn't tell me. But I think they are things I had to see and experience for myself before I would really be able to understand.
And there are a lot of things I could try to tell you. But you won't get it- not until Kenya steals your heart.
Just take my word for it.
