Day 194 - Final Thoughts Before Leaving

January 21, 2013 (Sam)

      Once again, we find ourselves mere hours from boarding an airplane, getting ready to head back across time zones back to the other side of the world. It has been a wonderful last six months. But it was a process getting here. Before Christina and I came to Kenya in July of last year I had serious questions in my mind as to whether or not this was a responsible decision. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to come here, but more than fulfilling my desires, I wanted to make sure that we were doing what was in the best interests of the people here. I mean, it was going to cost thousands of dollars for us to travel, live and work here for six months (if you remember, my initial tasking when coming here was to assist with construction projects). Couldn’t that money be better spent by giving it to an organization that would know how to more effectively use it? Was I really arrogant enough to think that I had enough to offer to justify spending that kind of money on this trip? I was seriously struggling with the decision.

      I confided my misgivings to my pastor and mentor, Mark. Pretty much verbatim, this is how he answered me, “It’s not arrogance on your part Sam; it’s just ignorance. Your trip is not about you going to Kenya to swing a hammer. Trust me, you’re not that good. It’s about your personality: how God is going to work in people’s lives through your personality and your interaction with them.”

      I don’t know if I’m going to be able to accurately sum up how this truth has manifested itself in my life over the last six months in a single blog post, but I’ll try. First though, let me tell you a story:

      One day, there was a young woman who went to someone else’s house because there was a man having dinner there who she cared very much about. Even though there were a lot of needy people in her community, she decided to bring the man a really expensive gift as a special treat for him. She could have used the money to help some of the other poor people, but instead she decided to lavish this gift on her friend. Some other people who were at the dinner scolded her for the way she had spent her money, buying this really nice gift instead of helping the poor people, but the man who she brought the gift for, whose name was Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.” It’s a pretty beautiful story. This woman brings a gift as a symbol of her love for her friend and then takes the time to meticulously adorn him with it. So we see, sometimes giving money isn’t always the right response. Sometimes, many times, the most valuable gift we can give is the gift of our time. Our energy. Our passion. Spending time and developing relationships with other people is perhaps the most valuable investment we can ever make in the life of another human being. More valuable than money. It’s time. It’s friendships. It’s relationships.

      I am so thankful that Christina and I decided to come here, instead of just sending a check. We have developed relationships that will last a lifetime and beyond. We have come to know people in ways more intimate than can ever be achieved through simple monetary contributions. We have made friends who we now call family. I have met new brothers here. Christina has found new sisters here. We have formed meaningful, deep, close relationships.

      Relationships. More important than money: even an absent father can send a check. More important than service: you can wash your friend’s car every day and still not be close to him. No, the most important thing is relationships. The most profound impact we will ever have on others will be through dedicated time and personal investment.

      In the eyes of many, our trip here might be defined as a failure: we didn’t accomplish what we came here for; we weren’t able to implement the program we came here to set up. And I didn’t do a bit of construction work. But ultimately, that wasn’t what our trip was about. Nothing profound has changed in this country since our being here, but profound and deep-seated changes have taken place in the lives of individuals: both ourselves and others.

      Read through the gospels; the majority of intimate and life-changing encounters that Jesus had with other people didn’t take place in a church, or other “religious” setting. They took place in living rooms, on roadsides, and around dinner tables. He came here to accomplish an agenda, for sure. But he didn’t work through that process like a businessman making a pitch in the conference room of an office building. No, instead, he loved others. He had dinner with others. He made friends with others. He cried with others. He laughed and joked with others. He walked with others. He was a friend to others. Jesus’ ministry was accomplished through relationships. When he commissioned his twelve disciples before leaving them, he wasn’t talking to a group of men whom he had only spent time with from 9-5, Monday through Friday. He was charging 12 men, whom he knew like brothers, to carry on the work that he had started here. He had mentored them, taught them, and been an example to them for three years prior. Now that's an effective teacher!

      Coming home from Kenya, I am a different person than I was when I left six months ago. My priorities are different. My perspectives on what’s important have once again shifted. How I live my life from here on out has forever changed. But none of these changes are because of a corporation, an organization, or a country. They are because of a person. And his name is Jesus.

      This Jesus, who was more interested in developing a relationship with a woman than he was with social welfare initiatives, is the same Jesus who wants to get to know you today. He is the same today as he was 2,000 years ago. Apart from him, outside of him, we are nothing. But with him, in him, we find life! Like a branch needs a vine, our operation in life is impossible without a connection to Jesus. And this is not a connection that can be achieved by attending Sunday morning service, quitting smoking, or going on a mission trip. This is a personal, intimate, relational connection.

      He wants to know you. Look again at his interaction with the woman who interrupted his dinner. He is so pleased, so happy to be engaging with this woman in a relational exchange. He silences the naysayers. “Leave her alone. She has done a beautiful thing to me.”

      This is a beautiful thing indeed. And just as this woman’s trip to see Jesus was not about accomplishing something radically beneficial for society, our trip to Kenya was not about accomplishing something radically beneficial for this country. The point instead was relational development.

      Like Mark said, it was not through hard work or task accomplishment that hearts were touched and lives were changed. Rather it was through unique personalities and focused interaction with people that God was able to work a transformation in our lives, and the lives of others.

      We may be leaving now, but there is something about Kenya that is forever lodged in our hearts. An allure that will not quickly wear off. No, the relationships that we’ve developed here run too deep and are too precious to be soon forgotten. We will be back. We will see our Kenyan family again. Like the woman at Jesus’ feet throwing off all social encumbrances just to spend some time with her savior and friend... so we are reminded to never forget... the most important thing.

      Yeah, we’ll be back.

Upon our arrival in July 2012

Sam and Victor

Sam and Angel

Christina playing on the teeter-totter

Christina, Patrick, and Sam

Christina, Patrick I, Patrick II, Carolyn, Clara, Sally, Kate, and Sam

Christina and Sho-Sho

Sam II, Christina, Brad, Sam I, Camie, Abby, and Nathan

Christina and Mercy

Sam and Mwangi

Jackie, Sam and Mbithe

Christina and Sally

Jackie and Christina

Victor and Sam

Hope and Christina

Christina and Cecilia

Sally and Christina

Christina, David, Alan, Levina, Luisa, Maryann, JB, and Sam

Sam and Joshua

Joshua, Sam, Christina, Clara and Alice

Christina and Elizabeth

Sam and Keith

Grace and Christina

Grace, Sam, Victor, and Mwangi

Christina and Alice

Christina and Sally

Joshua and Sam

Day 192 - HIV Doesn’t Kill People

Children gawking in the slums of Kiambiu

Raw waste running through the streets in Kiambiu

The streets in Kiambiu, outside Nairobi 

A man sitting outside his shop in Kiambiu 

Children gathering water from a stream in the streets of Kiambiu

A boy standing outside the police station in Kiambiu

Christina navigating the slippery roads in Kiambiu

January 19, 2013 (Sam)

      Here I thought that HIV was killing hundreds of thousands of people here in Africa each year, but it turns out I was wrong. I was talking to an HIV positive woman the other day and she brought me up to speed. “HIV doesn’t kill people, and neither does AIDS.” she said matter-of-factly.

      Since wrapping things up at Beacon of Hope, Christina and I have had the opportunity to work quite a bit recently in a local slum called Kiambiu. A sprawling settlement of mud huts and tin shacks, Kiambiu covers over 52 acres of land bordering Eastleigh, Buru-Buru, and Moi Air Base in Nairobi. Kiambiu comes from the Swahili word "mbiu-mbiu", which translates "to be on the run." And this seems to be an accurate description of many of the inhabitants of Kiambiu. Home to an estimated 100,000 people, the average household income here is only $36 per month. Most of the residents eke out their meager existence working as casual day-laborers in the surrounding neighborhoods of Eastleigh.

      HIV and AIDS run rampant here. Infection rates soar in the neighborhoods of Kiambiu, but accurate statistics are largely unavailable because of the thousands of people who refuse to get tested. And this takes us back to the fact that HIV/AIDS doesn’t actually kill people. So what is killing these hundreds of thousands of people around sub-Saharan Africa each year? Stigma.

      The woman who I’m talking to, a lifelong resident of Kiambiu, elaborates. She found out that she was HIV positive almost 10 years ago and since then has come to accept her status. She takes antiretroviral drugs (ARVs) every day to keep her immune system strong, and for 10 years now, she’s remained fairly healthy. But discrimination has plagued her life ever since she first started disclosing her status to people. First it was her family. She told them her newly discovered status, and they rejected her. Turned her and her three boys out. Then her neighbors. She informed them that she was HIV positive, and they stopped letting their children come to her house and play with her kids. Then her community. She began to advocate against HIV/AIDS stigma, freely divulging her status, and suddenly she was being harassed in public, humiliated by old friends, and shunned by everyone she knew.

      And these reactions are precisely what keeps hundreds and thousands of people from getting tested. Humiliation. Isolation. Harassment. Rejection. Some people kill themselves after they find out their status. It’s too much for them to bear. Others simply deny it, pretending they don’t know and refusing to alter their lifestyle. Hundreds of clinics in Kenya, and dozens surrounding Kiambiu offer ARVs for free to HIV positive men and women. And yet people refuse to go get them. Refuse to take them. Pretend like they aren’t there.

      The lack of education surrounding this disease is exactly what makes the disease so deadly. Thousands of people are living prosperous lives while still dealing with the reality that they are HIV positive. Thousands more are dying because they refuse to deal with that reality.

      But there is hope. People are working, nay fighting, to end the misconceptions and subsequent stigmatization associated with HIV and AIDS. The woman I’m talking to, just last week, was able to talk a man out of ending his own life after he found out his status. She’s helped clear up some of the misbeliefs that he has about his condition, and now she’s helping coach him back toward the road of stability and hope. I am thankful for this woman, and the part she is playing in combating not just the devastating effects of HIV and AIDS, but the even deadlier player that continues to wreak havoc in Kiambiu and other communities like it, stigma.

      "Stigma remains the single most important barrier to public action. It is a main reason why too many people are afraid to see a doctor to determine whether they have the disease, or to seek treatment if so. It helps make AIDS the silent killer, because people fear the social disgrace of speaking about it, or taking easily available precautions. Stigma is a chief reason why the AIDS epidemic continues to devastate societies around the world."

      -Ban Ki Moon, UN Secretary-General

Day 189 - The Adventures of Eating & Video #10

January 16, 2013 (Sam)

      Christina hasn’t eaten meat in 11 years. One of the big reasons was seeing too many dead animals hanging in the garage during her childhood... more specifically, a traumatizing run-in with a skinned pheasant at a young age expedited her decision to give up carrion.

      One of our first meals in Kenya was in a open-air, fly-filled, tiny, cramped room in the middle of the bush. It was dirty and it smelled bad. Actually, it smelled like raw meat that had sat in the sun all day. Because that’s what was right next to the “dining room” of the restaurant we were in. An open-air butchery with unrefrigerated animal carcasses hanging mere feet from our heads. Our hosts were coughing into their hands and then rummaging through the communal meat dish with their grimy bare hands. Safe to say, even the few courtesy bites I managed to swallow down were a struggle.

Christina eyeballing the goat hip next to her head

      This was just the first of many other interesting, and nauseating, food experiences that we’ve had here in Kenya.

      In reality, we've really come to love and embrace the food culture here. Come visit us and you'll find that we're now the ones digging into the serving dishes with our bare hands and licking our fingers before going back for seconds. Check out the video below for more on our food eating, cooking, and shopping experiences. 

Day 187 - (In)security

January 14, 2013 (Sam)

      The utility of accouterments such as shirt collars, cufflinks, and neckties has always puzzled me. They exist to help us look nice, but they don’t actually make any significant different in our performance. You can put a stuffed animal in a thousand dollar suit and that doesn’t make him a hard worker. This principle also holds true when studying the role of security guards in Kenya. They are stationed to provide a sense of security and professionalism, but like a useless piece of cloth tied around a neck, they seem to make no actual difference.

      While posted at the entrance of every supermarket, bank, mall, post office, gift shop, and hospital in Kenya, I have never actually seen one of these stalwart defenders of our security prevent a single crime or thwart a single attempt to smuggle contraband into the grocery store. They are simply there, it seems, to provide us with a false sense of security.

      One of our first interactions with these “security” guards was one of them trying to extort a bribe from Christina and I for sitting outside a restaurant without purchasing anything from inside. Another time, I watched a parking lot security guard actually accept a bribe from a matatu conductor in exchange for allowing him to avoid a busy intersection. These protectors of peace seem to be doing anything and everything except actually providing security. I have seen other guards filling car tires at gas stations, pushing shopping carts at supermarkets, handing out coupons at electronics stores, helping fill out deposit slips at banks, and most reassuringly of all, napping in the grass outside their posts in the middle of the day.

      Maybe it’s just me, but something about these pictures don’t give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside when we are living in a country that is under constant threat of Al-Shabaab militants. Terrorists are throwing grenades into buses and churches here and yet the security guards at the bus terminals and church entrances are waving me through the gates after their scanner wand metal detectors sound off like an spastic car alarm. Something here just isn’t adding up.

      I usually carry a pocket knife with me, but when passing through security checkpoints, no matter how many times the scanner wand beeps, most security guards will insist that it must be my metallic cellphone causing the disturbance, and wave me right past them without a second thought.

      Thankfully, amidst these otherwise unsettling images, there is one reassurance that I can take great comfort in, and that is the deadly resistance weapons that many of these guards wield. Today, I saw a particularly intimidating guard pacing rigidly back and forth in front of a gas station brandishing a broken timing belt in his brawny fist. I know that were a petrol thief to show up, he would properly beat the perpetrator at a consistent 3000 revolutions per minute.

      But all joking aside, if you ever travel to Kenya, rest assured; your security has been contracted out to some of the most effective-looking guards in the business. Their actual functionality may be a tad questionable, but hey, at least you know that if the supermarket is under heavy guard you’ll never miss out on any super-saver deals. There’s a stuffed animal in a thousand dollar suit standing at the door. Grab a coupon.

Day 182 - Mumo Means Grace

January 9, 2013 (Sam)

      On January 5th at around 9pm Nairobi time, God’s grace manifested itself in a little hospital room in Ongata Rongai, Kenya.

      If you remember a few weeks ago, we put out a request for help as one of our good friends here frantically tried to figure out what she was going to do as her 17 year-old daughter prepared to give birth to her grandchild. That request was answered with extravagant generosity as almost $700 was donated to cover the cost of basic necessities for the newborn as well as to pay for the hospital bill for her delivery.

      Today we went to Anita’s home to visit her, her daughter Katherine, and Katherine’s four day-old baby girl. In our arms we carried bags stuffed with baby clothing, blankets, formula, bottles, and groceries for the two grown-ups.

      A tiny little figure lay on the mattress in the corner of the room under a white blanket. She is tiny. Delicate. Beautiful. We asked her name. “Christina.” Named after Christina Carlson, my wife. Her middle name is “Mumo,” which is the Kamba word for “Grace.” “Because,” we are told, “she is here by the grace of God, and her needs have been provided for by the grace of others.”

      We pick her up and hold her. She feels weightless, dressed in her brand-new onesie. Christina holds little Christina in her arms and feeds her formula from a new baby bottle. None of this stuff, the clothes, the formula, the bottle, were we able to pay for ourselves. It was all purchased with donations made by others who wanted to help this family as they start off on this new, scary adventure.

      I’m sitting on Anita’s couch eating mothokoi, a traditional Kamba dish, sort of a smorgasbord of beans and corn and other unidentifiables, and I realize I can’t stop smiling. I’m sitting here watching a miracle next to me. A million answered prayers. This baby, her health, the provision for her needs... this is nothing short of a miracle.

      There’s a verse in First Peter that tells us to use our gifts to serve others. I got to watch about a dozen people do that over the last two weeks. Some through donations, some through kind letters, some through advice and encouragement. It was mind-blowing, honestly. We are given the ability to provide God’s own grace to others through our generosity. Thank you to everyone who stepped up and did just that. This family will always have a reminder now. Every time they look at little Christina Mumo as she grows up, they will be reminded of God’s grace.

Day 169 - A Cry For Help

December 26, 2012 (Sam)

      This blog is a little different in nature because we are using it more as a plea for help than a fun or interesting story. We are asking for your help.

      We have come to know a woman here over the last few months who has really touched our hearts. Her name is Anita. She lives in our neighborhood in Ongata Rongai. After spending some time with her, she disclosed to us that she is HIV positive. She contracted HIV after she was raped 17 years ago. She also got pregnant. Her daughter is now in high school. As is the vicious cycle for many young girls growing up in poverty and without a father, her daughter, Katherine recently got pregnant too.

      Anita is a seamstress by trade. The only school she ever went to was to learn how to sew. She now ekes out her meager existence pumping out odd jobs on her foot-powered sewing machine in her one-room tin shack. Finding work is hard. Supporting her family is even harder. She is surviving on less than $50 a month.

      We went to visit Anita today. She was sitting outside her house crying. She is overwhelmed. Knowing the importance of education, she is insisting that her daughter return to boarding school in January, right after she is due to give birth (most high school aged children are sent away for boarding school; this is not considered a privilege or a punishment in Kenya). She informed us that she plans on shouldering the load of raising this baby, her grandchild, by herself. “My daughter needs to be in school. I am willing to sacrifice anything to see her stay in school.”

      We asked her how she was going to afford it. She said, “By faith.” We asked her, when her daughter leaves to go back to school and isn’t around to breastfeed, how would she feed the child? She said “I’ll buy milk at the store.” And we’re not talking about baby formula milk here; we’re talking about unpasteurized cow milk from a plastic bag.

      Formula is available here, but it’s expensive: around $10 for a can, and only available in the supermarkets. This is simply not realistic for a woman in Anita’s position to be able to afford. We asked Anita if she had any other supplies to take care of the baby. She said no. Now when I talk about “supplies,” I’m not referring to a crib, a carseat, or a stroller; I’m talking about a blanket, clothes, and diapers. Essentials. She has nothing for this baby.

      We prayed with her for provision, and we know very well that God often provides for people’s needs through the generosity of others.

      We asked Anita if we could tell her story, and make this plea for help to our friends. She agreed. So we are asking you, as our friends and family, to help this sister from another country. This is about the life and health of a child. This is about the education of a young woman. This is about helping a family who is not in the position to be able to help themselves.

      If you are interested in helping and encouraging Anita and her family, please do one of two things: We think it would be really powerful if you would write Anita or Katherine a letter of encouragement during this really difficult and stressful time. Send letters to us via e-mail or Facebook and we will print them off for them. Second, support Anita and her grandbaby financially by clicking the “Donate” button on the upper-righthand side of this page. This sends money directly to us via PayPal. If you would like your donation to be sent through a 501(c)(3) certified organization, please send checks to our church in Delaware at:

Lewes Church of Christ

15183 Coastal Hwy

Milton, DE 19968

      Every penny that is sent will be used to pay for formula and other supplies for this baby. One of our strongest held beliefs is that we are blessed so that we can pass that blessing forward. Our goal is to be able to help support this child for the first six months of his/her life as this woman gives up everything she knows in order to raise her grandchild and ensure that her daughter is able to complete her high school education.

      Thank you for your generosity.

      “You will be enriched in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God. This service that you perform is not only supplying the needs of the Lord’s people but is also overflowing in many expressions of thanks to God” (2 Corinthians 9:11-12).

Day 168 - Our Kenyan Christmas & Video #9

December 26, 2012 (Sam)

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,

you now dismiss your servant in peace.

For my eyes have seen your salvation,

which you have prepared in the sight of all people,

a light for revelation to the Gentiles

and for glory to your people Israel.”

-Simeon (circa 4 BC)

      This was the declaration that Simeon made about Jesus after first seeing him in the temple courts of Jerusalem in Israel. He proclaims that he has seen the salvation of God in this child, who, as a firstborn male, has been taken to the temple by his parents to be consecrated to God.

      “The salvation of God.” Jesus was sent to be the Savior of the world because we needed a savior. We were dead in our transgressions and sins and God sent Jesus to save us from our sins. Without a savior we were doomed. When Jesus was on earth, he compared us to a lost sheep. But the sheep doesn’t stay lost; the shepherd went after it. In the same way, Jesus had to come down to earth to rescue us, to save us. This is his gift of salvation.

      But one interesting fact about this gift of salvation was that it wasn’t exactly optional for those hoping to be saved. It was needed. It was a necessity. This gift means life, and without It, there is no life. “He who has the Son has life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have life” (1 John 5:12).

      And this is what I think Christmas is all about. It’s about celebrating the birth of Jesus, his coming to earth, and the salvation that he brought with him. It’s about celebrating the Gift. I assume that this is where the tradition of gift-giving on Christmas came from, and what a wonderful tradition to remind us of what we have been given.

      This year, we got to celebrate Christmas with 14 of our Kenyan friends, many of whom we’ve come to know from the community here through our work with Beacon of Hope. We were surprised when many of them told us that this was the first Christmas they’ve ever celebrated. Christina and two of her friends spent all morning in the kitchen cooking up delicious traditional Kenyan food. In the afternoon, four families, all headed by single mothers, meandered into our apartment and the festivities began. I was dubbed the Chief Entertainer for the kids, and after two hours of getting hit in the face with balloons and kicked in the shins, we sat down to eat together. Christina and the girls went all out: fried chicken, pilau (spiced rice), chapati (Indian bread), matoke (mashed plantains), coleslaw, kachumbari (tomato, onion, cilantro and salt) and fresh fruit for desert. We ate until our bellies swelled. Then we sat down and read the Christmas story from Luke 2 together. First, I would read in English, then one of the girls would translate into Swahili.

      Next came the gifts. I’ve never quite experienced a present-opening ceremony like that before. The kids were first. They sat in the middle of the floor with their gifts wrapped on their laps just looking at them; they had no idea what to do. After some prompting, they carefully tore them open. Then the mothers each got a bucket full of food to take home. They clapped and cried. I’ve never experienced such gratitude and appreciation in such a concentrated dose in my life. People were tearing up, saying how they’ve never been given a gift like this before. And the curious part about it all, was that they didn’t get anything extraordinary or extravagant; it was just food.

      I personally love the tradition of gift giving. I love giving and I love receiving. But the more birthdays and Christmases I celebrate, the more I notice that in our culture, we rarely give out of necessity; we seem, more often, to give out of generosity, or maybe even obligation. I mean let’s be honest, getting someone a cocktail blender for Christmas because you can’t think of anything else that person might need clearly demonstrates that that person probably has no real or immediate physical needs. But Christmas for us this year was different. When the gifts we receive are needed, or life-giving, they take on a whole new meaning.

      Now I’m not trying to equate the gift of food to the gift of Jesus, but in different ways, each is necessary for our existence. Without food, we perish physically. Without Jesus, we perish spiritually.

      I hope that you will join us in celebrating this Christmas season as we rejoice in the greatest gift that has ever been given: Jesus himself.

      “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

      Praise his great name. We have been given a life-giving Gift.

Check out our video of our Christmas together below!