A whole new world

"Are you sure you've remembered the cerfiki... ferkisit... certificates?" (Jacob, 10)
Two weeks of preparations, butterflies and saying goodbye to the streets of Eldoretwere over, and my seven "kids" were ready to head for a whole new reality in Gardens Children's Home, Kawangware, Nairobi. 

After a night on a crowded Matunda bus (with a driver who I am quite sure was either drunk or high on miraa), we arrived in Nairobi at 5 o'clock in the morning. From there, the journey went on to Kawangware. We were warmly welcomed at the home, and within few hours my boys had settled in and made several friends. "By tomorrow they will all be in class," the pastor of the home ensured me.

I stayed with them untill the next day and then went back to Kasarani. A few tears escaped me as I waved goodbye to Kevin, Michael, Kim, Ken, Jacob, Simon and John from the matatu. We have really become like a family, and it was hard to leave them behind. Yet I knew and trusted that they would be safe and happy at Gardens.

Two days later I found myself in town with Anthony, waiting for the pastor to arrive together with the seven of them. Finally the kids got to see the capitol with their own eyes. We visited the parliament building, Kenyatta's grave and Uhuru Park.

I can assure you, if you had met me in town together with the guys, you would not have guessed that less than a week ago, their reality still consisted of begging, cold, violence and drugs. Seeing my boys and the progress they are making in short time gives me hope. It teaches me that the street children that I see on the streets of Kenya are only one hug away from being like all other children.

"I don't know when my birthday is. My birthday, Kristina, will be the day you come back to Kenya"
(Kevin, 13)

"Stuck in traffic" reflections

For some strange reason, this was written on a bus I saw in town today:
"co·zy /ˈkoʊzi/ [koh-zee]: snugly warm and comfortable, protected from unpleasantness".

Among us "exchange junkies" it's a well known fact that one is not truly Norwegian untill he or she understands the meaning of "koselig" or "cozy". No one can "kose seg" like Norwegians. And surely, we are very well protected from unpleasantness.

At the sidewalk behind the bus I saw a man. Maybe 30 years old; his hands and feet were too deformed for him to even be able to walk. Deprived of the ability to work because of his handicap, he was begging on the street of Nairobi. The word "cozy" is so far from his reality, it probably has no meaning to him.

Soon I'll be back in "koselige" Norway. But I doubt whether I will be able to "kose meg" like I did before. Reason? After six months of knowing poverty, hunger, corruption, crime and drug abuse by name, I am no longer protected from unpleasantness.

But I thank God. I would prefer knowing what I know today over "cozyness" anytime  

God is faithful

Kim is 15 years old. He has five years of primary school education and speaks pretty fluent English, though he prefers to speak Kiswahili. He is usually a bit quiet, but when he feels at home and comfortable he opens up and you come to realize he has an amazing sense of humour. Kim is somehow serious and doesn't like to be made fun of. He is very responsible and sees to it that everyone does what they're supposed to.

(Kim)

Ken is 12 years old. He made it to finish class 2 before he came to the streets. Ken is not particularly loud, but very talkertive. In spite of the harsh life he has been exposed to he still has the smile and the innocent eyes of a child. He has a head for mathematics and usually asks me to make some math exercises for him. Recently he took up the habit of sniffing glue, but he makes sure to leave the container in town when he comes this side.

(Ken)

Michael is 15 years old. He studied untill class 5 before his family decided they couldn't sustain him anymore and he came to the streets of Eldoret. Michael is very outgoing, talkertive and always in a good mood. He knows how to use his talking skills to obtain what he wants, and to get himself out of trouble. He is said by the rest of the group to be very emotional when drunk, though luckily I have never seen that side of him.

(Michael to the right)

John is 10 years old and goes by the name of "Kwa nusu". Despite of his young age he is very bright and mature. John has finished class 2. Because of being the smallest of the group he has also been nicknamed "Kashorty".

(John)

Simo is 12 years old and has finished class 2. He has a remarkable ability of making sure he always leaves our house with a new piece of clothing. Simo has an interesting fascination for the cosmetics that Carol and I use, and you might just find him covered in foundation and powder if you stop by. Let's hope it's just a phase.

(Simon)

Jacob is 12 years old and has studied untill class 3. "But I don't know how to read or anything," he says. "I only went to school to get free porridge". Jacob is obsessed with cleaning, and will not sit down for a moment when he comes to our house. You will find him washing dishes, mopping the floor and if you try to intervene he'll throw a fit.

(Jacob)

Kevin is 13 years old and has finished class 4. He is the definite leader of the group, exercising that role with great justice and authority. Kevin is outgoing, talkertive and very perceptive. He wants to be an artist when he grows up, and is already a very talented dancer. Kevin is very proud, and will never result to begging like some other street children. In stead, he works at parking lots, helping cars to park for a few shillings.

(Kevin)

From Monday 22nd of March, these seven remarkable kids will no longer belong to the street. They have been accepted to a children's home in Nairobi and will begin a whole new chapter in their lives. Sidewalks will be replaced by bunkbeds, hustling by schooling, cold and loneliness by warmth and care. These children will once again be kids.

Join me in praising God for His eternal faithfulness. He has heard my prayers, seen these seven lives going to waste and found a way out. Truly, God sees every one of us, and He answers our cries. Today I am happier than I have ever been, for today I know that God will never let me down.

He is good.  

Psalm of the day

This psalm is to be found in the book that we use for staff praise and worship.

Lord, I was blind! I could not see

In Thy marred visage any grace.

But now the beauty of Thy face

In radiant vision dawns on me.

Lord, I was deaf! I could not hear

The thrilling music of Thy voice.

But now I hear Thee and rejoice

And all Thine uttered words are dear.

Lord, I was dumb! I could not speak

The grace and glory of Thy name.

But now, as touched with living flame

My lips Thine eager praises wake.

Lord, I was dead! I could not stir

My lifeless soul to come to Thee.

But now, since Thou has quickened me

I rise from sin's dark selpuchre.

For Thou hast made the blind to see,

The deaf to hear, the dumb to speak,

The dead to live; and lo, I break

The chains of my captivity.

A camel was suddenly not as interesting anymore.

This blog post was supposed to be called "The day a camel escaped into Kamukunji", because untill 2 o'clock in the afternoon that was the most interesting thing that had happened today. At that particular time I was coming from town, and after paying a ridiculous amount of money in registration fee for the "Test Of English as a Foreign Language" I was pondering how to manage through the rest of the week with 200 shillings (15 NOK) left in my pocket.

(John, also called Nusu (=Half) and Simon)

As I turned the corner to get to my house a sight met me that was going to make my day a lot more interesting: 7 kids were sitting outside my front door, their shabby appearance far outweighed by the smiles on their faces.
- Kristina, we have come to visit! We have been waiting for you.

(The guys really went crazy with my camera.)

A moment later my house was filled to the breaking point of 10 to 15 year-olds exploring, playing on the computer, taking photos and doing every other thing that can be done in my tiny Kamukunji house. 70 out of my 200 shillings were spent on bread and tea to feed my hungry visitors.

("Do like Jackie Chan!!")

With the fun we were having we barely noticed that it was about to get dark. I asked the guys if they shouldn't be getting back "home" to town soon.
- Uhum... Yeah... was the only answer I got. Then Kevo, the non-formal leader of the group, found courage and told me what they were all thinking.
- We were kind of hoping we could spend the night here?

(Nusu and "Ndogo" (=small). Ndogo spent the evening washing dishes and cleaning up the house. When  tried to ask him to sit down and rest he chased me away.)

So that is how Carol and I ended up hosting seven kids for a sleepover tonight. As night fell I wondered how I would make sure my guests would not be left hungry: I was still pennyless and the house did not have anything but a few tomatoes and some maize flour. I started making "uji" (maize flour porridge), apologizing for not having anything else to offer them.

(With a bit of creativity anything becomes a good motif, even a pen.)

As I was cooking the kids ran outside, and soon they came back with some small mandazi (doughnuts) and chips, bought with the few shillings they had brought along.
- Phew, at least they won't have to sleep hungry, I thought. And as my mother instincts were running overtime I decided I didn't care whether I would take supper myself. Then I heard Kevo calling my name.
- Kristina! Let's share my mandazi! That's what we do right? We help each other with what we have!
Soon all the kids were coming, each giving me part of the little food they had bought.

(A somehow stressed Kristina trying to make sure nothing it broken in the midst of the fun and games.)

As we shared this small meal, I was almost moved to tears. I thought to myself that this is what the family of God is all about. So many times I have helped people out financially and said "I know you will do the same thing back the day I am the one struggling". But to be honest I had never thought that day would come so soon. Having a street-kid sharing his supper with me so that I wouldn't sleep hungry, it really humbled me. And it reminded me once again that before God we are all equal: that there is no giving and receiving side in His kingdom. We all receive, and we are all to share of what we receive.

(It was a memorable night for all of us.)

And now, as I am writing this post looking at 7 boys sound asleep on mattresses on my floor, I can only thank God for all that He has given me: education, tons of experiences, the ability to travel around the world; and tonight He gave me seven little friends who helped me out in a rough situation.
Tonight psalm 14 makes sense: "Fools say in their heart: There is no God". 

The photos are here!

Finally I have found a way of transferring my photos! So here are a few pictures from my world in Eldoret. These photos are mainly of our everyday life; Christian Union photos will be coming soon.

This is the village of Kamukunji, my home untill the end of March. I have come to love the place a lot! The photo is taken from my favourite spot at Reflection Hill.

This is inside our plot, which is usually full of kids, chickens, cows and every other thing you can imagine.

My front door: the one you should be looking out for if you feel like stopping by for a visit.

This is the kitchen area, complete with a gas cooker, a sink and a shelf for storage.

This is the bedroom: Carol and I are taking turns in sleeping on the bed and the mattress.

This is the office, where I can be stuck for hours reading.

This is the dining area, which can hold a total of two people, or four if you get creative.

This is Luis, our neighbour. He usually stops by every so often, especially when we are cooking.

These are the guys from my last blog post: Job, Samuel, Wilson, and Ken asleep on the bed.

Job: 12 years old, really bright, makes really good ugali and has become a good friend of mine.

Ken fell asleep almost as soon as we reached Hillary's house. I guess it had been some time since he had such a soft surface to sleep on.

I invited Ken to visit our house yesterday, and ended up with 14 kids in our tiny, one-room house.

It was a bit crowded, but we all had a great time!

The kids had a blast listening to music and taking photos of one another.

More pictures will be coming.

A cup of tea, cartoons and a whole new perspective

"Today, if you meet any street kid in town, you should invite him for a cup of tea." This was the first thought that passed my mind when I woke up this morning. Surely, sometimes God can be very specific.

And surely, almost the moment I reached town I was approached by one of the hundreds of boys who roam the streets of Eldoret, dressed in rags that you can just guess the original colour of, and with their bottle of glue faithfully installed on their upper lip. "Help me with a ten-bob for a cup of tea", he said, a phrase that I have heard from dosens of other children on dosens of other occations during my stay in Kenya.

But this child, and this occation, would turn out to be a bit different.

The next thing I knew, Carol and I found ourselves in a small restaurant, together with Samuel (that's his name) and his friend Wilson. As we took tea and mandazi, we listened to these 13 year-olds' stories of how their parents had passed away, leaving them homeless and without money for school fees. At the counter of the restaurant there was a small television, and the two kids soon fixed their attention on the "Scooby Doo" movie that was playing. I remembered how I used to love movies when I was their age, and asked myself how often these guys could be able to sit down, just relax and watch TV.

One thing led to another, and suddenly I found myself on the back of a motorbike, going together with these kids and two others who joined us along the way, to my friend Hillary's house to watch cartoons. We ended up spending the whole afternoon there, watching "Finding Nemo", having lunch, playing computer games, all those things that kids usually love doing.

"Do you use glue?" I asked one of the kids who joined us on the way. His name is Job, he is one of the most clever 12 year-olds I have ever met.
"Yeah," he said. "But not so much. I only use it at night, because if I don't I can't sleep."

9 year-old Ken had been asleep on Hillary's bed for almost the whole time. Now he was awake and I noticed he kept scratching his head, which was covered by some sort of white rash. "Mashilingi", he told me. Ringworms. My mother instincts were definitely taking over by this time. In lack of any proper medicine to give him, I pulled out the only thing I had - Nivea sunscreen - and applied a thick layer on his head. The smile he gave me afterwards told me it had been some time since he had experienced motherly concern, and it melted my heart through-and-through.

After an afternoon that was definitely out of the ordinary for all of us, it was time to part. Job and Ken escorted me to the bus stage, as is commons courtesy in Kenya. When I was getting into the matatu I asked Ken where he and Job were going next.
"I guess we'll start looking for something to eat for supper", he said. Then he gave me brave smile that shattered my heart to pieces. As we left for Kamukunji, the other passengers must have been curious to see the "their mzungu" in the back of the vehicle, struggling to hold back her tears.

Now it is 11 o'clock at night, and almost bed-time for Carol and me. But I'm wondering whether I'll get any sleep at all, knowing that Samuel, Wilson, Job and Ken are spending the night in the dangerous streets in town. That there is noone around to make sure they have food in their stomacks and that their clothes are clean, to care for them when they are sick or protect them when they get scared.

And that these four friends of mine are only a few of the hundreds of boys who roam the streets of Eldoret, dressed in rags that you can only guess the original colour of, with their bottle of glue faithfully installed on their upper lip.

(Today more than ever I wish I had the cable for my camera, because Job took some amazing photos today that I would have loved to share with you. Instead I guess I'll have to illustrate even another post with some impersonal photos taken from the internet.)