The Hardest Thing

 by Jess Cropsey

Our life in Kibuye is pretty comfortable. We have a nice house with appliances, indoor plumbing, and tile floors, all luxuries that most Burundians don’t have. We (now) have relatively reliable power, water, and internet. So when people ask me, “What’s the hardest thing about living in Burundi?”, my answer has always been pretty immediate — being away from family. Yes, for sure there are a host of other challenges including cultural and language barriers, limited resources, and conflict. But the hardest for me has always been missing out on time with family and sharing special events like birthdays, holidays, and family vacation. We’ve had nieces and nephews that we never got to hold as babies. While I appreciate how travel and communication are much easier than they once were, that separation has always felt like the biggest sacrifice, only now the scope has widened.

Last weekend, 3 Kibuye families dropped off their kids at Rift Valley Academy (RVA) in Kenya, a boarding school for missionary kids. The Watts were the first brave souls from our team to embark on this venture. Faders and Sunds sent their oldest girls there last year. This year, it was our turn too. For 4 years, I have watched these parents grieve sending their kids away and navigate parenting from afar. I’ve listened to their pain and watched them weep. I don’t know why it surprised me how incredibly hard it was to leave our daughter Elise (8th grade) last Friday. 

Of course it didn’t help that we faltered on our final decision multiple times in the days leading up to travel due to a rapidly changing situation with new information from the school about online options, rising covid numbers in Burundi & Kenya, land borders closing in Burundi, changing test requirements for travel, and increased mandated quarantine times, all of which made us second guess this decision.

And yet as our family considered the situation, we remained convinced this was the right choice for Elise. In her 7 academic years in Burundi, she’s had an age mate twice for less than a total of 1-½ years and both were boys. Over the last few years, one after the other of the older kids she was grouped with have gone away to RVA. She’s longing for friendship with others her age in her heart language and we can’t provide that for her here in Kibuye. She needs discipleship, social interaction, extra-curricular opportunities, and a larger community.

Elise with new classmates

RVA is an amazing place with staff who are dedicated to loving and serving students and their families in a wholistic way. Yet as a parent, it feels like such a big loss to send her out of the nest 5 years earlier than most people have to. The cost feels immense and I’m so jealous that other people are going to be the ones to hug her when she’s sad, to make her birthday cake, to help her with a problem, to answer her questions about homework, to make special memories with her, etc. 

Elise's dorm parents who, I hear from many people, are amazing!

Elise's dorm, complete with a really nice yard and beautiful view of the valley

Getting settled in her new room

I know the time always comes when parents relinquish those roles, but it just feels too soon right now. And while I know in my head that RVA is a good place for her, my heart is broken and so very sad. I now really understand the feelings that my teammates have shared over the years.

Getting some final snuggles in during orientation

Lord willing, tomorrow I’ll be getting my 4th covid test in 12 days (technically 5 since one guy decided to give me both throat & nose tests in the same sitting) and after a negative result the following day, will be released from a 7-day quarantine at a hotel in the capital city. I’m looking forward to seeing John and the boys again but I know that grief will linger as I walk by Elise’s empty (and now always clean!) bedroom, set 4 plates on the table for meals instead of 5, or realize that I don’t need to order as much produce each week or do as much laundry. 

Please pray for Matea (11th), Anna (10th), Micah (9th), and Elise (8th) as they transition to a new year at RVA (and the Sund kids too). While Micah & Elise are the new ones this year, even returning students have adjustments to make as school is so different with masks and social distancing. Pray that they would grow academically, socially, spiritually, and emotionally. And don’t forget to pray for their parents too.

(left to right) Anna, Matea, Piper, Elise, Ella, & Micah, 

all current or former Kibuye Kids now attending RVA

COTW: A Beloved Flower (Guest post from Dan Galat)

(from Eric)

This past week, we hosted a team of orthopedic visitors from Samaritan's Purse.  The two orthopedic surgeons were from Kenya, Drs. Dan and Jomo.  Dan and his family are old friends of our team, and several of us lived across the yard from him back in Kenya.  It was a delight to see them, and they made a significant impact in the lives of lots of families, bringing advanced orthopedics care that would be otherwise inaccessible.

One of the nice things about visitors is getting to see your own familiar context through the eyes of someone else.  With that in mind, here is Dan's blog about a young man that he operated on, which is a great story in and of itself, but also contains some of his glimpses of Kibuye.

(and just for kicks, an ancient blog from 2010 about John and Jason going inter tube rafting in Kenya with Dan's son.  Dan enjoyed reminiscing about this story when he presented last week at Grand Rounds.)

Westgate Mall and Psalm 46

(from Eric)

Here in rural Banga, we are fairly out of touch with international news.  But Saturday, when news trickled in about a shooting in a Nairobi shopping mall, we had to find out more.

As it currently stands, it would seem that a group of armed gunmen from Al-Shabbab in Somalia, walked into Westgate Mall in Nairobi, killed more than 30 people, and are currently still in a stand-off with police.  Expatriates are among those dead.  Reports include a story of letting all of the self-identified Muslims among the captives go free, before starting to shoot the others.

We spent eight hours on a marathon shopping trip at Westgate Mall our first day in Kenya in 2009.  We've been there dozens of time.  We were there seven weeks ago, on a Saturday afternoon, eating an omelette in the upstairs Java House restaurant, before enjoying some frozen yogurt.  We would buy groceries there.  Baby clothes.  Phones.  They have an awesome indian restaurant.  It's quite a luxurious place, always quite a surreal feeling being there after months in rural Kenya.

The pictures of evacuated victims are deeply troubling.  It's hard to be much closer to home.  That storefront, that entrance, that book section in the Nakumatt store.  That bronze elephant statue that the victim is hiding behind.

***

This morning, sitting on a wooden stool outside our front door, I'm reading Psalm 46.

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble."  It's an amazing description, to choose to highlight the "very present-ness" of the help of God.

"Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam."  I wonder what made the first ancient Jewish writer of these lines say such a thing.  I look out at the mountains across the valley. I picture them being torn into the sky, and launched into a roaring sea.  I feel the trembling that would be my heart, my body.  Nothing is sure.  The mountain under my feet?  What could happen there?

"…we will not fear…"  Really?

Then the image switches from a roaring chaotic sea to a life-giving river and its streams.  "There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God…God is in the midst of her…God will help her…he utters his voice, the earth melts…The Lord of hosts is with us.  The God of Jacob is our fortress… Be still and know that I am God."

My first reaction to this is to try and reassure everyone (and myself) that we are fine and that these crazy events could happen anywhere and have no relevance to our security.  I want to point out that, though everyone was more concerned about Burundi's security, Kenya has had two major events since our arrival here (the other being the airport fire in August).

But these small and false hopes only give an illusion of help.  They don't bring me a speck closer to the heart of the psalmist, which is quite far from my own heart indeed.

Am I safe because of where I am, because of my own spin on the machinations of international political groups of which I am largely ignorant?  No.  So should I fear because one truly never knows when something like this could happen?  

Or is there a God in the midst of us who lifts his voice and the earth melts?  One who makes wars cease to the ends of the earth?  And if he is with us, then he is a fortress, and the roaring oceans, consuming the mountains, can even become a life-giving stream, making glad the people of the city.

Pray for Nairobi.  Pray for us.  Pray for us all, that our faith would reflect what we proclaim.  Come, Lord Jesus, that our faith would be sight.

COTW: 2=4

by Rachel

Our time at Tenwek has come to a close, too soon as always.  Thanks to the support of my gracious husband, who stayed home with the kiddos so I could work, I spent 11 days and took 6 calls on maternity.  I performed about 20 C-sections (from perfectly basic to quite challenging), half a dozen hysterectomies (one ranks in the top 5 largest uteruses I've ever done), and an assortment of minor GYN cases, in addition to remembering lots of clinical decision making and OB management.  It was perfect.  I was initially a little hesitant about taking six calls when I have a 3 month old who isn't consistently sleeping through the night, but grace is provided to those who need it!  Due to some governmental changes in health care here in Kenya, Tenwek's delivery numbers are down from the last few years (free maternity care provided at the district hospitals).  I don't know if that played into my calls, or if my "white cloud" came through, but many nights I didn't get called after 10pm or so.

My last call was on Wednesday.  I rounded with my team in the morning and in the antepartum room there were three women pregnant with twins.  All were doing well, none were in labor (although all three had come in with contractions at some point in time, and we planned to induce one that was post-term), and it gave me a chance to provide some teaching to the interns on one of my favorite topics.  I joked with them that this was actually quite timely, since I was giving the lunch time lecture that day on Twin Management.  It was a nice practical application.  Around 5pm I got my first call.  One of the ladies pregnant with twins had shown her self to actually be in labor, and her twins were both breech.  So up I went to the hospital and pulled out two beautiful babies via C-section, one boy and one girl, both by their feet (although the girl kept trying to come out arm first).  What a deal, I thought...a 25 minute surgery resulting in two healthy babies!

Three hours later I got my next call.  The mom with twins who we had induced that morning was fully dilated.  Unfortunately, she had been so for several hours and the first baby was not yet delivered.  I came up to assess the situation and decided she too needed a C-section.  Back to theatre, where two little girls emerged into the world, one head first and one feet first.  Another 25 minutes, another two healthy babies.  That was my last call for the night.  How blessed am I to have this job?  Less than an hour of work and two simple surgeries resulted in four babies.  That's a good return for my work. :)

Another Day of African Rounds

(from Eric)

We are back in Kenya at Tenwek for a few weeks.  Our family's goal was to get Rachel back into clinical work, with my priority being supporting our kids through this crazy careening transition known as our life.  But yesterday, Rachel was at home, and the Pediatrics team was just one visitor, so I thought I would go up and help out for rounds.  Like Rachel wrote recently, it felt like our hiatus could have been just a few months, and it was shocking how much information came suddenly flying back to the dusty synapses of my brain.  

I have no white coat, no reference books, no stethoscope.  No ID badge either, but everyone knows me, so I just kind of went around with the visitor.  We saw the two ICU kids, then a kid in the ER ("Casualty" in Kenya).  Then we met the team for a chai break, and rounded with the interns.  

At lunch, Rachel asked me what kind of things I had seen.  I gave her a little rundown:

• More HIV than normal, several of them really malnourished.
• One of them has a recurrent nosebleed with platelets of 6, probably chronic ITP from her HIV
• Another was a new diagnosis at age 11, which was kind of weird, but is now really wasted with lymph nodes in his belly that are hopefully TB and not cancer.
• There were also a lot of heart failure kids, one of whom is terribly palliative, but several were getting somewhat better.
• Diarrhea, pneumonia, bronchiolitis, that kind of thing.
• A few bacterial meningitis kids who are getting better, but
• the kid in the ICU came in with presumed meningitis with an asymmetric pupil.  She's been stable, but mostly comatose for nine days, so we actually decided to recommended getting a head CT.  First head CT I've ever ordered at Tenwek.
• There was a kid in the ER with a big swollen face, probably nephrotic syndrome, was good enough to go home, and lives nearby, so that will make their follow-up easier....

After a little pause, Rachel asked me if I enjoyed being back, because it sounds like kind of a depressing set of patients.

I thought for a moment, then told her, a tad bit sheepishly, that I really enjoyed it.

Why?

After years of preparation and spending most of our time thinking about language learning, administration, and strategic 20-year plans for a hospital, it was such a refreshing opportunity to remember that, at the end of the day, there are just sick people who need help.  And through the gift of grace that is medicine, I can fix some of them.  Others I can't, but I can at least be with them, and usually help them in one way or another.  And to have that reminder here at Tenwek, where I already know the system, and can capably teach the interns from my experience, was truly enjoyable to me.

Coming Home

by Rachel

I have heard that the least favorite question a missionary kid can get asked is one of the American standards: "Where are you from?"  Um, do you want the 2 second answer or the 10 minute answer?  Where do I live right now?  Where was I born?  Where did I live most recently before right now?  Where does my family (i.e. parents) live?  We McLaughlins have a hard time with that question, too.  And at any point in time, the answer could be Michigan, Nashville, Phoenix, or France, until recently.  Now I am wondering if it's ok to say, Africa.  We're not really FROM Africa, but I think that in some ways, we are from here.  Eric and the kids and I arrived in Kenya on July 8.  Other than 3 pieces of missing luggage (now found), it was awesome.  The sights, the smells, the experiences.  I didn't even mind the exhaust fumes (I'm sure that won't last long).  Staying at Mennonite Guest House...the breakfast bell, the Imperial Leather soap, the giant tree swing.  ABC Place...the 2 well dressed Indian men at Gilani's Butchery, the cheap bill at Zucchini's, the ginger lemonade at Java House.  The drive to Tenwek...escarpment views, baboons by the side of the road, the Kenol station bathroom stop.  I turned to Eric at one point and said, "It's like we're returning after three months instead of two years."  I can't even explain all the emotions inside me right now, but they are mostly those of joy.  It's like we're coming home.

Family of 3 early in 2010 in front of our building

2 children on the porch of the same building - summer 2011

The joy continues at Tenwek.  Everywhere we turn, there are familiar faces.  Kenyans, missionaries.  Hospital staff, house helpers, passers-by. Some faces are missing, but most are still here.  Hugs, greetings, exclamations about how the kids have grown.  Some things have changed, but most are familiar.  The buildings, the trees, the dogs and turtles and chameleons.  I worked in the hospital 2 days last week, after two years away from clinical medicine.  It's like I stepped back in time, like no time has passed.  Rounds are the same problems with the same treatments.  Scrubbing in to a C-section (or four) required no extra thought...my hands slipped into the gloves, draped the patient, held the needle drivers,  tied the knots.  Four beautiful, healthy babies born, a grace from God.

Rachel with baby Ben in front of the Tenwek waterfall - 2011

family of 5 in front of the same waterfall, July 2013

I know that life at Tenwek was not and is not all joy.  There is tragedy and sadness and frustration.  But for now, for this time, I am so blessed to be here.  I feel like it's a perfect stopping point before diving back into the new and unknown, a chance to communicate and feel my gifts at work before going back into a situation with new languages and cultures.  So I look forward to these next weeks, and I pray they would continue to be a blessing to my family, as we hope to be a blessing back to Tenwek.

My Son Shows His Kenyan Heritage

(from Eric)

It is a simple statement of fact that my son Benjamin Kenneth Kipruto (foremost in the picture below) is an "African-American", having been born in Kenya, and thus having acquired citizenship at birth in two countries (though we have yet to get him a Kenyan passport).  He is white, but so it is with a considerable number of Africans whose families have been in Africa for generations.

In a few weeks, we will return to Tenwek.  Ben was 6 months old when he left, so he of course has no memories of Kenya.  But the other day, something happened that typified his Kenyan personality.

Maggie has been enjoying the The Jesus Storybook Bible, which, both because it's a book of Bible stories as well as just a great book, causes us great delight.  Last Sunday, she was sitting on the floor showing Ben some pictures from the story, and explaining them to Ben, who was listening well.

She got to this page. It's Jesus welcoming the little children.  She explained to him:  "Ben, this is Jesus."  Ben, whose vocabulary is growing day by day, replied:  "No.  Daddy."

I could tell you that this was the first time that he has done this.

That would be lying.

And this is, as you know if you've been reading this blog for awhile, a very intrinsically Kenyan thing to do, and you can click here or here to read a story or two, but in reality, most of those stories are undocumented.  The upshot is that (from my experience), if you're Kenyan, like my son, you are extremely likely to think that I look like Jesus.  Or, as a missionary colleague once said, "Maybe Jesus after he had fasted for 40 days in the desert!"

A Trip Back to Tenwek

(from Eric)
  
There is nothing like banana trees to make you feel like you've been gone awhile.  It's due to their capacity to grow so quickly.  Behind the apartment building where we all lived for our two years in Kenya, we had a shamba where we grew lots of produce, and we had transplanted a few banana saplings there in the first six months or so.  Towards the end of our term there, we took this picture.  You can see a few banana trees in the background, spindly and a bit solitary.

Several months ago, someone sent us this picture of the same plot, now with a veritable forêt of trees.  Wow, I guess has time has passed.  And when I look at the picture of Maggie above, I must admit that small children have the same effect as banana trees.

The end of our time here in France is within 3 months.  Some of our team members will have need to travel back to the states afterwards (weddings and such), and so we set a month hiatus before we are all due in Burundi at the beginning of August for the next phase of this journey.

What to do?  After some deliberation, it was decided that my family and Jason will be spending the majority of that time at Tenwek Hospital.

We look forward to a time of getting back into medicine, seeing old friends, renewing contacts, showing off the interim growth of our family, hiking down to the waterfall, and of course, checking out the banana trees.  We will even be staying in our same apartment, which happens to be vacant at the time.

Maybe it's the time that has passed, or maybe it's the end of an alpine winter, or the lack of medical practice for a while now, but it seems that the nostalgia of our lives at Tenwek is at an all-time high.  When we think about visiting so many colleagues and friends, sharing a mug of chai, waking up at precisely 6:15 to a cacophony of birds, it's enough to send us into the third heaven.

Our time there was a time of great joy.  And yet we know (and if you have been reading this blog, we hope you know as well) that, as life always is, it was so much more multi-dimensional than that.  It was joy and sorrow.  It was routine and frustration.  It was smooth and so very very difficult.

So, what to do with all this nostalgia?  Ride the wave until you crash on the rocks of reality, i.e. when you remember all the other dimensions?  Stifle it down to avoid the disappointment?

Because living cross-culturally involves such cycles of emotions with regards to one's host culture, I think the question is an important one.  And it strikes me that such nostalgia has at least a chance of being a time of great gain.  A time of truly loving and enjoying the blessings of a place and its people, while letting the frustrations roll of one's back a little more lightly.  Maybe something that can linger, or even last.

We'll let you know.  But for now, we're excited to shake a million hands, greet people in Swahili, keep a warm chapati in one hand and a bottle of Stoney Tangawizi in the other, and enjoy our trip back to Kenya.

Tenwek Tragedy

(from Eric - you can read a bit more at Jennifer's blog here)

What to say?  A story that cuts, but for us, it guts us and knocks us flat.  It's unbelievable.  Because I can almost imagine being in their shoes, I can't possibly imagine being in their shoes.

The Kelley family arrived five weeks ago to serve at Tenwek Hospital, Kenya, for two years with the Post-Residency program with Samaritan's Purse, just as we did in late 2009.  Aaron is an ER doctor and Stephanie stays at home with their three little boys and their 14-month old girl.  We met them a few times in the past year, and last July, Rachel and I had a good time answering their questions about shopping in Nairobi and Kenyan vacation spots.  Their blog told us that they are living in the Cropsey's apartment, next to ours, and that they are benefiting from the bananas and basil that we planted in the backyard garden.  They were hoping to see baboons on the way to Tenwek, but alas no.

We can picture every aspect of it.  

Then, the unthinkable.  Hannah, their 14-month old daughter has persistent vomiting.  They are taking care of her, talking with our friends at the hospital about possible causes.  Then a couple nights ago, she stops breathing.  Her heart stops.  Aaron has to perform CPR in their apartment.  They make the trek up the hill to the ER, the same walk we took when Rachel was in labor.  Hours of resuscitation in the ER.  There was a picture of all of our former colleagues surrounding her bed.  The CT scanner that they inaugurated the day we left in 2011 showed a malignant brain tumor.

She was rushed to Kijabe Hospital several hours away where she had surgery.  She died the next day.

No.

No.  This didn't happen.

Our world, so full of beauty, is plunged into darkness.  How did this happen?  I recommend to you Aaron's blog posts and the testimony that they bear.  That which stood out the most to me was a single sentence.  He was recounting the cardiac arrest of his daughter, her brain cancer, and their trip through the Rift Valley to Kijabe.   After noting how remarkable it is that a world renowned pediatric neurosurgeon was at Kijabe just a couple hours away (which is quite correct), he says "Tell me God is not good!"  Those words nearly broke me.  It's an almost unthinkable thing to say in his situation.  A cynic would call it denial.  But it's more of an anchor for the soul.  But it's mostly a defiant shout into the darkness.

And he's right.  

I can't even bear the weight of it, but he's right.  

What's lost is nothing to what's found.  And all the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup.

And I feel it in my reaction to this story.  I pick Maggie and Ben up from school and hold them so tightly.  They smile at me, and the deep durable goodness of the moment is unmasked, and it is full of glory.  It is full of glory.  And though the darkness and brokenness of our world are achingly real, the greater reality of the goodness of a single cup of water would stand up to any tragedy.  This is no survivor's guilt.  This is darkness showing in relief just how precious is the life we have been given.  It's been there all the time.

Please pray for the Kelleys.  Pray for the Tenwek community.

Recipe for Sukuma Wiki

We (Faders) have received a number of email inquiries about the recipe for sukuma wiki (the dish of tasty cooked greens that we highlighted a few posts ago). So for those of you who might be interested in a new idea for dinner sometime, here's the recipe....Sukuma Wiki Ingredients:
- Large bunch of kale (or sukuma wiki leaves if you live in East Africa)
- 2 Tablespoons of oil
- 1 medium onion, chopped
- 2 medium tomatoes, diced
- 1 heaping Tablespoon Sukuma Spice Mix

Sukuma Spice Mix Ingredients:
- 1 t cornstarch or 2 t flour
- 1 t salt
- 1 t sugar
- 1 t ginger
- 1 t coriander
- 1/2 t cinnamon
- 1/2 t cumin
- 1 t boullion
- 1 t turmeric
- 1/2 t fennel (we couldn't find ground fennel, so we use fennel seeds)
NOTE: this amount of Sukuma Spice Mix is about right for 2 large bunches of kale, which would feed about 6-8 people.

DISCLAIMER: In Kenya, sukuma wiki is typically made with a Kenyan-made spice mix called Mchuzi Mix. Our homemade mix is similar but not the same. If you're looking for the real Mchuzi Mix, you can find it in every single duka in Kenya for less than 100 Shillings, or in the US, you can sometimes find it on Amazon for about ten times the price. We recommend the homemade Sukuma Spice Mix recipe above.

Directions:
1. Wash the kale, remove the stems, and chop the leaves into very thin strips/pieces. One chopped bunch equals about 8-10 C of chopped kale. Don't worry; it will cook down to a much smaller-looking amount. Set aside the kale until step 4, and proceed to step 2.
2. Over medium heat, sautee the onion, tomatoes, oil, and 1 heaping Tablespoon of the spice mix.
3. When the onion and tomatoes are soft, add 1/2 cup of water and stir.
4. Add the kale,and continue to cook over medium heat for 15-20 minutes

Serve hot with ugali and chapatis. If you're not familiar with making those, you could serve with rice and/or tortillas. If you're curious about ugali and chapatis, we can post about them sometime.

I thought about including a picture of the finished product sukuma wiki, but it doesn't LOOK as appetizing as it TASTES, so we'll leave you now to your cooking . Bon apetit! We would love to hear how you like it if you give sukuma wiki a try.

Sukuma Wiki

When we (Faders and McLaughlins, who are enjoying being together in Ann Arbor this week) told the kids the other day that we were having sukuma wiki for dinner, there was a loud outcry of cheering.

Sukuma wiki is a classic Kenyan dish of chopped greens cooked with salty spices. The greens grow year-round in thousands of gardens in Kenya, and they look like this:We had bushels of this stuff growing at Tenwek. The closest vegetable that we can find in Ann Arbor is kale. So we chop up the kale in small strips and then cook it with onions, tomatoes, turmeric, fennel seed, cumin, ginger, coriander, and a few other spices, and it actually tastes really good!

Sukuma wiki translates to "push the week." It goes by this name because eating sukuma wiki (which costs almost nothing in rural Kenya) can push a family though a week on a small food budget.
In Kenyan fashion, we eat sukuma wiki with chapati, beans, and ugali. Jason has mastered the preparation of this meal (which requires no silverware!). He orchestrated the preparation of the dinner below so that we could share Kenyan cuisine with some friends last weekend. Yum!

"Africa" in Texas

As many of you know, I have been collecting the awesome signs of Kenya.  Click here for the collection.  We are in the midst of a long road-trip from Nashville to Phoenix, and day #7, we pulled into Amarillo, Texas.  Now, there is not a whole lot in Amarillo, save hotels, "Free-if-you-can-eat-it" 72 oz steaks, and a flatness that is majestic, yet easily wearisome.

However, on pulling into town, we discovered the "Jesus Christ is Lord Travel Center".  That's the name.  And the theme carries through their decorating.

Now the merits of such forms of Christian expression are certainly a good topic for debate, but the whole thing warmed my heart for a very different reason:  It reminded me of Kenya.  Not just the overtly Christian business name.  But the giant signs, and the generally wordy nature of everything.  And thus I had an excuse to share some more signs with you.  Witness the "Hossana Cosmetics and Salon":

And one of my all-time favorites, the "Jesus the Fountain of Life Church Total Transformation Centre The House of Worship".  Thank you, Kenya.  Thank you, Texas.

Obamania Lives On in Kenya

Sorry for the post lapse.  We've all been down in North Carolina for an excellent conference (more later), except the Cropseys, who have been otherwise occupied (more later).

For those who don't remember "Strawberry-Flavoured Magic Obama Chewing Gum", I really can't blame you, because it was quite a while ago.  But lest you think the lack of Obama posting means that Kenya has bailed on their presidential enthusiasm, we have a follow-up for you.  Obamania in Kenya has waned somewhat, but overall they remain strongly behind the American President.

One of my favorite manifestations of this is the Obama belt-buckle.  There are many of them, manufactured in China and imported with impunity, with seeming disdain for the American phenomenon in which the Obama fans and the Belt-Buckle fans don't really overlap that much.  My favorite one is one where you can see the President, but if you rotate it slightly, an image of the first family is reflected.

At any rate, about a month before we were leaving, I told all our guy interns that I would pay double for an Obama belt-buckle.  One of them graciously took me up on it, and actually gave it to me as a gift.  The accessory is actually too shiny to photograph very easily, but you can see me sporting it below.  I still have it, so ask to see it any time.

One day in the hospital, someone passed me this (below).  That's right, a $1,000,000 US bill with Obama's picture.  But it gets better, because this is actually an evangelistic tract, if you magnify the print on the back of the bill.  I looked up the company that made them, and it's an American company, so I guess they manufacture these for use in Kenya.

One of our Kenyan friends shared this picture with us, which is a sign in a Kenyan village, that apparently was the ancestral home of President Obama's family, complete with genealogical lineage.

Kenya does have a unique claim on Obama, but the spirit of East African unity means that Obamania is far from limited to Kenya (as seen in John's eye trips to Tanzania and Sudan).  Here is a snapshot of "Obama Shop" (a.k.a. Obama-rama) taken in Burundi, so we have more to look forward to.  (Note: if you look closely, you can see a woman behind the glass motioning for the photographer not to take this picture.)

Why Tenwek?

It was 2008.  The McCropders had gathered together at the Global Health Missions Conference in Louisville to find a hospital.  We had all already been accepted into the Post Residency Program, and they were willing to send us as a group, but the biggest logistical challenge was going to be finding a location that would accommodate 4 doctors and 3 families.  By process of elimination, the only option open to us was Tenwek Hospital.

When people asked where we had chosen to go, honestly, I was embarrassed.  Tenwek was the first missions hospital I had ever heard of, and it is arguably one of the most "famous" hospitals, largely due to the CMDA staff and several books that have been written.  It gets 300-400 visitors PER YEAR.  We had been told by people in the past that there was actually a waiting list to serve at Tenwek.  Seriously?  There are thousands of people dying every day in the world because they don't have access to medical care and there's a WAITING list at one hospital?  Why can't people go somewhere else?  I felt that in my heart in the beginning.  There's so much need everywhere else, and seemingly not at Tenwek.  What purpose could God have for our time there?

Fast forward two years.  The McCropders have just completed a two year term of service at Tenwek, and I can tell you now it was EXACTLY the place we needed to be.  Here's why.

1.  Education.  Tenwek is a unique place among missions hospitals because of the scope of education going on there.  We all had some interest in education of nationals before we arrived in Tenwek, but God definitely honed and refined our calling during those two years.  Not only do we think education of nationals is a good idea, but it's now our primary objective.  And at any given time, Tenwek is educating 16 interns, 6+ surgery residents, and 2+ family practice residents, not to mention Kenyan and US medical students and nursing students, among others.  We got a chance to see three different models of education, all at the same place.  This experience will be invaluable to us as we head to a Burundian medical school next.

2.  Alyssa.  None of us would have guessed it at the beginning, but a big part of why Tenwek was so great for us is our newest team member.  We started as 4 doctors and 6 adults, and now we are 6 doctors and 8 adults...Alyssa has been a wonderful friend, an incredible support, and a competent doctor (who helps round out the primary care aspect of our team, as she is med-peds).  Had we gone elsewhere, we never would have gotten to know our new teammate!

3.  Proximity to Burundi.  Being on the African continent was certainly helpful as we sought to find our new location.  We were all able to take trips to visit Burundi, only a short 1 1/2 hour flight from Nairobi.  In the beginning, we all assumed that we could choose a place based on the recommendations of just the 2 people who had visited, but in the end, all McCropders were able to visit Burundi.  This really helped us all feel more comfortable with our decision, which was a blessing.

4.  Connections.  One of the perks of having 300 visitors per year is that you get to meet a lot of people.  We've met surgeons, pediatricians, ENTs, anesthesiologists, cardiologists, internists, urologists, cardiac surgeons, etc.  Many of these people would not be able to serve overseas in less equipped hospitals.  We are grateful for their help.  And we've kept in contact with many, and hope that these people will be willing to come and help us out in Burundi in the future!

5.  Transitions.  Tenwek has been called "Africa Lite" in the past.  Yes, we had hot water, appliances, internet, and fairly regular electricity.  We could get many amenities in Nairobi, just three hours away.  It was not hot, there were no giant bugs, there was a community of other missionaries.  But it was still the Developing World which had its challenges.  And we had some wonderful mentors at Tenwek that helped us figure things out:  everything from homeschooling and employing househelpers to managing patients with various complications in the hospital.  We could have gone to Burundi right away, but I have a feeling it would have been much harder than it will be after two years at Tenwek.

So yes, Tenwek was big and famous and now even has a CT scanner.  But God still knew what He was doing when He sent us there.  Tenwek has lots of visitors but needs a lot of extra help to run the hospital.  We will never forget these past two years in Kenya, no matter where we end up, and are so glad to have had our time there.

Uncomfortably Close Baboons: Part III

(You can also read about Part I and Part II if you're interested):

Alyssa and our family just returned from 5 days on the Kenyan Coast for an East African retreat for World Harvest Mission, the agency that we are applying with to go to Burundi, with whom we will hopefully be approved in late September, after we get back. It was a really great chance to get to know some very quality people, and we look forward to working with them in the future. We are even more excited about working with this agency after this experience.

But this post isn't about that. It's about monkeys.

The group of beach cottages where we stayed has the most impressive local monkey population I have yet encountered. We saw some of the seasonal residents there putting plates of food out for them, which may explain a lot. There are 3 main types:

1. The Vervet Monkeys, of which there seemed to be two varieties.

2. The Colobus Monkeys, which always have a sagacious look about them.

3. The Baboons

Now, baboons are generally recognized as peaceful creatures, but they can grow pretty big, and are known for aggressive tendencies once in a while. On arrival, we were told to keep our doors shut, lest the monkeys get in to go after the food. One morning, a vertiable troop of about 10 baboons made their way onto our veranda. Three of them stood on the opposite side of the glass, checking out Maggie, who stood there fearlessly proclaiming, "No come in my house!" You tell those monkeys, Maggie! Here is one of them:

In an impressive show of domination, one of the big males climbed up on our veranda chair, seen below, then grapped the cushion, set it up on the rail, let out a big yawn (baring his huge incisors) and laid down for a brief nap.Though we hadn't left any food out, we had left a few beach things, notably Maggie's swimsuit as well as a pink, inflatable fish intertube pool toy. These were seized by the troop of baboons and run through the common area between the cottages. Here's a picture of the baboons running around with our pool toy. Seen below, baboon teeth and inflatable pool toys do not always make the best playmates, and Maggie's fish suffered a fatality on behalf of the activity.

My wife, ever dauntless of baboon mischief spotted the swimsuit in the hands of a few young ones across the lawn and decided she was up to the task. I tried to argue that the big ones would come to the aid of the little ones if they looked threatened, but she would have none of it. She ran quickly and excitedly towards the little gaggle, and they scattered in true cowardly monkey spirit. Here she is with the spoils of her victory.

Maggie's linguistic development is really coming along, and she is putting more and more words together every day. She proudly told everyone that day: "Baboons take my fish!" There it is. Subject, action verb, correct possessive pronoun, and direct object. All together. How bizarre that it was actually true.

Kenyan Money Matters

A terrible tension we live in:

The micro view: A man stops me in the hospital today and greets me. I recognize him as the father of a 3-week old baby that died last night. The baby came in from home in a serious state, and despite our best efforts, did not pull through. It came about that the parents are strong Christians, they have six kids, and this was to be their last, mom having gotten her tubes tied in the last couple weeks. Because his child didn't make it long, his bill is not big, maybe 50 USD. I would guess that his standpoint is that he is a poor Christian man, who brought his baby to us, and we didn't save him. He looks to his brothers and sisters for help.

The macro view: Tenwek Hospital has been here for over 50 years. We see 130,000 outpatients a year, and admit over 13,000. We do innumerable surgeries. We have tons of donated professional labor from missionaries and volunteers. We have donated meds. People give donations for our buildings. We receive HIV/AIDS grants from the US government, to provide care for HIV patients. The patients are charged for the care they receive. And if you come to the hospital with a monetary need, say to hire another doctor, or to pay the nurses more than the sub-government wages that they currently receive (resulting in high turnover which affects patient care), you will get a single answer: There is no money for this. Why? I have talked to a lot of people about this, and though I'm sure the answer is multifactorial, the biggest piece seems to be collections. We don't actually get paid for the fees we charge. Why? Again, multifactorial, but the biggest reason seems to be that the community has had 50 years to learn that we are money-givers, and won't enforce our collection policies. Thus, even many who can certainly afford to pay, don't. I'm told that the hospital has the deeds to huge amounts of land, taken as collateral for bills. They could claim them, force the people off their land, sell the land, and then we could run our hospital better, with less turnover, and more financial sustainability. Anyone want to go for that option?

My reaction to all this is to largely take a 100% retreat from any financial investments or giving. Just be here to be who I am, instead of what I can give. This is less than satisfactory, for reasons I'm sure I don't have to enumerate (read the book of James), but also because (from what I gather) becoming a full member of African society includes some element of financial interdependence. So the answer doesn't seem to be at either extreme, which means that the answer is going to reside in some place of tension. And it can be terrible at times.

Missing Kenya: A Top 10

On our other blog, we have been putting up some posts, counting down the Top 10 things we will miss about Kenya. We're about halfway through, and thought we would alert the general audience here:

#10: Cheap Flowers

#9: Sodas in Glass Bottles

#8: Chai Time

#7: Walking to Work

#6: Equatorial Weather

Or you can click here to read them all in a row. We'll be posting #5-#1 in the next few weeks, to be followed by the Top 10 things we're looking forward to about returning to the USA.

Kenyan Pregnancy Taboos

(A Kenyan doctor friend Mike comes up to Rachel and says congratulations, with a gesture towards the baby bump.)

Wait a second, Mike. I had heard that Kenyans never acknowledge a pregnancy until the baby comes.

That's totally true. You can't mention it, even when she is almost ready to deliver. But you're a Westerner, and everyone knows that you guys don't mind, so we can say it to you.

Well, what if we went out to a rural village, and saw a very pregnant lady, and said, "Congratulations, mama! When is your baby due?"

Oh, that would be fine, because even in the remote areas, they know that Westerners are different on this. But, if I were with you and said the same thing, they would be very offended.

But there's an indirect way that you can ask, right? You can say, "When will you be inviting us over for tea, or lunch (implied: to see the new baby)?"

Absolutely, that is what you would say. But you can't mention it or even prepare much for it. But younger generations of Kenyans are now having baby showers and things like that. But even them, even at a baby shower, you can't verbally mention it. It's still taboo.

Wait. You're at a baby shower for a pregnant lady, but you can't acknowledge she's pregnant? Then what do you say when you give her a gift of a crib or some baby clothes?

Oh, you just say, "Here, these are for you. I thought maybe you would like them. Just put them away somewhere, and maybe you fill find them useful one day."

So, Mike, I gotta tell you that as an American, I find this pretty strange. Do Kenyans find it equally strange that Westerners would ask freely about a pregnancy?

Oh, of course, they would be like, "Eh, why are you talking about a baby that isn't even born yet?"

--The sobering part of this awesome conversation is that we were in agreement that the likely source of this cultural difference springs from the vastly differing neonatal mortality rates, and the reluctance to expect too much in a society that loses so many babies. Nevertheless, we remain grateful to friends like Dr. Mike to help us navigate the cultural waters.

This Just In...

From one of our correspondents in the field, Dan Galat. Possibly the ultimate matatu decal -- pretty much impossible to beat.

The Luxury Shuttle featuring Jesus and the Playboy Bunnies.

This gives El-Shedai & Rihanna a run for their money.

Favorite Matatu Decals

Most vehicles in Kenya, especially the matatu "taxis", have phenomenal decals, giving a glimpse into the owner's mind. Tangential thinking, one of my specialties. Thus, I, John, have been commissioned to digitally capture as many as possible for the McCropders. I shamelessly photograph other vehicles whenever possible. I rarely drive without myself or shotgun having a camera ready at all times, and matatu stops in large cities are a proverbial gold-mine. Of the top 50+ captured so far, here are just a few of our favorites to wet your appetite.

Driver and the "fare collector" enticing passengers with a handsome pose for the camera. We weren't sure if PACE MAKER is referring to what the matatu does or what is keeping it alive.

It's not an easy job. Right or left, gas or brake, EL-SHEDAI or RIHANNA?

Tough decisions must be made daily by matatu drivers the world over.

AMPHIBIAN ASSAULT: a plague of biblical proportions indeed.

STUNNING LIKE MY DADDY: Who knew a van could look so good?

The Small Lamb (right) takes on the much larger LAPTOP INTERNET on the Mombasa-Nairobi gauntlet.

CRUNK Aint DEAD: Crunk has a special place in our hearts as it was actually used by the McCropder boys. Anyone have any ideas outside of The Emperor's New Groove (Jay's favorite movie), who Crunk might be? This one if for you, Dykstra.

After leaving Crunk, we then boarded Baby Face with 30+ passengers (official counts all concur, 30+) for the last leg of our journey that day. A picture of Baby Face and Fader was a must.

OBAMA, NIKE swoosh. Yes we can. Just do it!

ISRAEL VIBRATION: Perhaps this is the feeling one gets when alignment gets neglected for too many years. Luckily, this guy has four spares on the roof when all four wheels go simultaneously. Interestingly, there is an ISRAEL VIBRATION JR., but he has been illusive to capture on film.

Speaking of JR's, here's TORMENTA 2. Appropriately named. This will be anyone's fate who dares book a ticket to ride. (Below the windshield says in silver, blood-dripping letters NO PHOTOGRAPHY). It had to be done.

The sheer energy and money that went into this paint job is mind boggling. She does look like a comfy ride though.

Many thanks to Scotch and Baby Face for their contributions to the collection. If you want more, let me know. This is just the tip of the burg, baby.

Yours Truly,

Crops