My new project work - Kazi yangu mpya ya mradi

After months of packing, traveling, studying, and unpacking - it's time to get to work!

My new work is coordinating a project called Maryknoll Fathers AIDS Orphans Project in the Archdiocese of Mombasa. It was started in 1999. I am assuming it from another missioner who has worked on the project for the last 9 years and has been a great inspiration and role model for me.

Coralis saying farewell to the children at a community center near the project office.

The mission of the project is be a sign of hope to families and especially the children afflicted or affected by HIV/AIDS, that God does care, and has not abandoned them.

One of our teens leading the others in a song during our recent workshop.

The project addresses the educational needs of children who have lost one or both parents to AIDS. They come from marginalized families who have very limited economic opportunities and live in slum areas surrounding Mombasa. Many of the guardians are living with HIV/AIDS and have other children to care for. Some of the orphans in the project are living with HIV/AIDS themselves. Majority of households live in one room unit, with no access to running water nor electricity. Some households have orphans as the head of household.

Emma, a social worker, teaching the children about their rights.

So how does the project work?

The AIDS Orphans Project operates in ten parishes and collaborates with the volunteer services of 400 health workers who belong to the parish small-group faith communities. These community volunteers identify the orphans, bring them to the attention of the project, and assist in the monitoring of the orphans after their acceptance into the program. The project provides school fees, books, uniforms, and supplies so that the children can go to school.

Based on the progress and personal aspirations of each student, placements are arranged for the students in vocational training schools or secondary schools. Students are currently placed in computer training, tailoring, hair styling, welding, and mechanic training programs. The project has also been able to help a few children in the program attend special schools for children who are deaf or have mental or physical disabilities.

Our annual Education for Life Workshop includes life skills and group discussions.

And for the younger children - a few games just for fun.

The project collaborates with the Archdiocese of Mombasa Community Based Health Care clinics to provide support to the families of the orphans. Many of the guardians are members of a support group for people living with HIV/AIDS. I have just started meeting with the support groups associated with the ten parishes and hope to assist them in the future in the micro-finance and their incoming-generating activities.

I am really fortunate to be working on a project that is well-organized and where I can see the benefits directly for the families I serve. It is still going to have its challenges. I realize already that my level of Swahili is limiting me in my conversation with the kids and their guardians. It is constantly humbling how much I have to learn.

For now, I'm listening and learning as much as I can.

Kutembea na Kutembelea - Walking & Visiting

Hello all. This will be a first draft that I'll update later ... so come back sometime if you want to read more.

I've been in Mombasa for 2 weeks now and the days are becoming full. My first assignment is language practice. I've been walking (kutembea) with community nurse, counselor or social worker. And the reason they walk the neighborhoods is to visit (kutembelea) people. Most of the people they see are clients, which mean they have already been tested for HIV and are positive.

Mary (community nurse), Mama Kamau (counselor) and I back in the clinic office after walking in Chaani.

It has been really powerful experience, which I'll write more about later. Yesterday we walked in the rain, crossing a ravine on boards, wading through pathways that became streams, and jumping over puddles. We sat in dimly lit rooms, with smoke from a charcoal fire heating the room for a frail older woman, on benches around a room where a client sell drinks, and in cushioned chairs across from a couple having marital problems. It has been humbling and mystifying. I am hoping my presence doesn't make people uncomfortable. When asked for my opinion yesterday on a situation, I had to just offer an apology that I didn't understand everything that was said.

Every day has it's heartbreaking stories and welcoming faces I hope not to forget but they are already blending together.

You might notice that the Swahili word for visiting is almost the same as walking. It's not a coincidence. Kutembelea (visiting) is the prepositional form of kutembea (walking) - which means visiting means walking to, at, for, or with.

I'm grateful for this time of walking and visiting. Even though I don't have much to offer yet - besides a few simple sentences, I know this has been a sacred time of being allowed a small window into others' lives.

Today I meet many of the children in the AIDS Orphans Project, which I will take responsibility for in June. They are on term break and the project is hosting a 3-day seminar, called Education for Life.

More later! Peace to you all and to our world.

Ninaondoka Nairobi - Leaving Nairobi

Greetings from Nairobi for one last time! Tomorrow morning I will begin another transition and travel to Mombasa.

This past week has been full of many great moments, but also with a bit of sadness as it is time to move on. I passed the Beginner's Exam for Swahili, but the true test begins tomorrow as I try to use my language skills in Mombasa, where Swahili is much more prevalent than in Nairobi.

I thought today I would post a few faces that I will remember fondly from the past 3 months.

First, my Swahili class:
And the Maryknoll community

And some other creatures ... who could not love this face?
On a fun note, John, Cindy & I celebrated finishing classes by visiting an elephant orphanage on Saturday. It was delightful! They allow visitors one hour each day for the mid-day feeding (with bottles!).
I was surprised how playful the elephants were.
And even more surprised that one walked by me & gave me a kiss ... if elephants kiss with their trunks?
Another highlight this weekend was meeting my new housemate & co-missioner, Susan Nagele.

Faces I will miss ...
Benedict - long known as "the mango guy," Ben works across the street from our hostel and was extremely generous since we "didn't have our own farm". As you can see, his smile can light up a room and a rainy day.
Josephat was one of my patient Swahili tutors, while he selling handcrafts to visitors at our hostel. He wouldn't accept the title of teacher in Swahili and suggested that he be called assistant.
Moses! Moses is the day guard at our hostel, a constant friendly face, source of wisdom, honest advice and kindness.
Fr Leonard is a Tanzanian priest who has stayed at the hostel almost as long as we have, but for treatment of his ankle. He is the one I would take my Swahili questions - as one who speaks Kiswahili sanifu ... pure Swahili.

And Charles and Damianas, the night guards who always provided a bit of entertainment for us as we called it a night. My heart broke a little tonight for Damianas' family. Yesterday they buried his 22-year-old brother, who was killed in a car accident. He was in the last year of university, and a great hope for his family. May their faith sustain them as they grieve.

And finally, the faces I will miss the most are the two who have been my dear friends and companions for the last 3 months. We now head in opposite directions as we begin our work.

It's go time!

Wishing you a Happy Easter - Mfurahie Pasaka Njema

Posing with Victor, center, who designed a tall cross

from palms for me to carry on Palm Sunday.

Mfurahie Pasaka Njema! Happy Easter! The time of waiting is over … whether it was waiting for Easter or waiting for spring – and for me – waiting until I knew where I wanted to begin my work with Maryknoll Lay Missioners.

I had hoped that I would instantly know where I wanted to live and work when I visited Kitale and Mombasa in February. However, I found both places to have great people and great opportunities for work. I found myself torn between two unique places and a variety of project ideas. A week ago, I was visiting a center for people living with HIV/AIDS, and it was there that I found my answer. It is a beautiful facility, focused on providing a high standard of care and individual treatment. It is a place of hope.

One of the opportunities I was considering is working with children who have been orphaned by AIDS. And so, although the AIDS clinic I visited last week was unrelated, it was there that I knew I wanted to work with these young people. I will be part of the AIDS Orphans project that was featured in the last issue of Maryknoll Lay Missioners' Voices of Compassion magazine. This project identifies children who have a lost one or both parents to AIDS and are unable to go to school. I will be helping them get into an affordable school and supporting them along the way.

It will be a new endeavor for me, giving me much to learn. Another Maryknoll Lay Missioner has been working on the project for many years and will leaving in June so I will have a great mentor for my first few months. I will also be meeting with women's groups for those living with HIV to learn how I might be able to serve them, and I hope to help with the diocese micro-finance work, as time allows.

An African image of the Last Supper

As Holy Week came this year, I have had much to reflect on. I was surprised to find the priest washing twelve people's feet during the Holy Thursday service. He spoke of how Jesus turned things upside down and how Peter first refused to have his feet washed. My decision to work in Mombasa and to serve young people whose lives have been forever changed by the loss of a parent to AIDS is still fresh in my mind. I wonder how my views will be turned upside down in the coming years. I hope for the grace to both allow myself to be changed as Peter had and also for the grace to follow the example of Christ in whomever I serve.

Whatever your faith, I hope this time of year brings you new life. For those who share my belief in the Resurrection, I pray that our faith be strengthened, our hearts opened, and our lives recommitted to Love.

With joy, Mary

Good Friday - Ijumaa Kuu

The Way of the Cross - Njia ya Msalaba

Following the Cross with the Kenya skyline in the backdrop.

Good Friday was yet another powerful experience this week. I walked in the mud through a slum, accompanying church members on the Way of the Cross. Fourteen times along the way, everyone stopped to remember a moment of Christ's suffering. A brief prayer was spoken over a portable loudspeaker. Kneeling down to just above the level of the mud, we bowed our heads and prayed before proceeding, singing along the way.

The Way of the Cross in the slums.
Gum boots are common during the rainy season.
John captured this image of my borrowed pair & silhouette in a mud puddle.

There was a man directing us from behind, and later I found that he had been chosen to watch over us, as visitors, and guide us so we wouldn't slip along the way. I cannot help but think of all the challenges that we people we joined yesterday encounter on their way, in their daily lives. Whether it be the mud, the lack of funds for their basic needs, or the many other challenges of living in a slum. And yet, they were watching out for me.

Arriving at the church for the final station.

Another Farewell

Good Friday brought a happy farewell for us - and an early Easter gift from Angela. She has been one of my friends at the hostel. Angela has been studying English, in preparation for going to Kampala University for a degree in counseling. She has been a joy and a great Swahili tutor. She was elated last night to be traveling back to her family in Tanzania for a month before her program starts in Uganda.

Mawazo Juu ya Jumapili ya Matawi – Thoughts on Palm Sunday

Today I celebrated Palm Sunday with about 1500 people at Kanisa Katoliki la Mt Maria Kwa Njenga – St Mary's Catholic Church in the slum called Kwa Njenga, literally Njenga's Place.
This week is the holiest of weeks for Christians remembering events of 2000 years ago that draw us closer to God and to believing that love is stronger than all else.

There were many memorable moments but to share a few:

• Seeing why Fr John called us last week to get our shoe sizes – in case we needed gum boots to reach the church.
• Bumping along the narrow pathway with people making way for Fr John's truck which reminded him why he always walks to the church. With the visitors today, he forgot.
• The faces of so many - both interested and disinterested in the visitors, the shy and bold greetings of little ones.
• Brushing ants off a little child who had leaned against a tree they inhabited.
• Victor, a 4^th grader, offering me the cross he had woven out of palm branches.
• Watching Cindy & John interact with the children, knowing they will soon be using their gifts with young people as teachers.
• Amassing with the others to begin the procession.
• Straining to hear the reader outside over the neighboring church.
• Processing slowly, trying to make out the words being sung.
• Seeing a 4-year old walking with us, holding her palm high above her head but hidden within the adults around her.
• Hymns and incense filling the air.
• Catching enough Swahili to know where the story was of Christ's conviction and death.
• Singing the one word I knew – pokea – receive. We offer our lives, our hope, our prayers and ask God to receive. Christ offering us peace and us singing that we receive it as well.
• Making all those people laugh with a few words of Swahili and wishing I could give them more than a smile and a blessing.
• Talking with parishioners afterward with the words I could find.
• The children. Adorable, mischievous, timid, smiling, crying, watching, listening for the mzungu to speak their language. All of them.
• Chicken and cilantro as only I had thought Minh, a co-missioner I trained with in New York, could make.
• The cook at the parish apologizing for what, I don't know (I'm starting to speak Kenyan English), but with “Hakuna stima, hakuna maji.” – There is no electricity, there is no water.
• Father John praying for those who inspire us by their perseverance.

The blessing of the palms before the procession.

The cross leading the procession ... about to begin.

Processing to the church

The choir in the center in purple robes led the singing.

Some of the children. Victor, the one who made the cross I carried, is on the left waving.
The girl with the red sleeve & her sister on her back sat next to Cindy & me in Mass.
The church is the metal building behind us.

There's a bit of time in the midst of prayer in another language, whether it is sung or read, to try to fill in the blanks, the unintelligible or the unknown words. Today I was reflecting on one word I heard many, many times: pokea – receive. So much of what I have experienced here is about receiving. Being received as a visitor, a foreigner, a student, and one who wants to be with people to learn from them. Receiving a new kind of education – language, culture, different ways of being and communicating. Knowing I have so much more to learn, but also being grateful for what I've received.

Wish you all a very holy week!

Choices, choices, choices - Hiari, hiari, hiari

Greetings from Nairobi!

I am in the midst of discernment between whether I will go to live and work in Mombasa or Kitale. I was hoping that the decision would be clear after visiting both places, but there's interesting work I could do in both places - and each place has its own distinctive charm.

Language school has continued to keep me busy, but I hope to spend more time in silence to listen to the whisper within of where I am being called.

Today's Gospel reading about the prodigal son returning to the open arms of his father reminds me of the love that surrounds me. I think part of me has been afraid of making the wrong choice, but perhaps there is not a wrong choice.

Here's the journey to Mombasa in photos:

To Mombasa or bust! Due to bus consolidation, John ended up in seat that was stuck in the reclined position and Cindy's seat was damp. I was in the back row and enjoyed chatting with a few other passengers ... a good opportunity to test my Swahili & learn a few new words.
It was a beautiful day, albeit warm. The landscape on the eastern side of Kenya was more dry than our trip the weekend before to the west.

Our first views of Mombasa was the port from the "causeway" - which connects the island of Mombasa to the mainland. My romantic mental images of the city needed some adjustment as we arrived through the industrial part of the city.
Mombasa is a city of contrast, color, and history.
The tuk-tuks are a popular and inexpensive form of transportation.
The view from our co-missioner's 2nd floor entrance. Some of the city reminded me of Southern California.
One of the Catholic High Schools in Mombasa. The school motto: Ukweli daima (Truth Always) and other encouragement is painted on the building, as are common for schools here.
Another motto I hope to live by.
We were very busy visiting potential sites to serve in. One area in which I was particularly moved was the area called Bangladesh, served by Kiltegan priests from Ireland.
We met many dedicated people serving those living with HIV.
Our co-missioner works out of this building for administrating a project that helps over 150 children stay in school in spite of losing at least one of their parents to AIDS. I was able to read the bios of some of the children and talk to one young man who finished high school and is now taking courses in community development. It was through the project that he found his desire to serve others.
After a long day of exploration, our hostess-with-the-mostest pulled off an amazing evening to introduce us to other missioners in the area.
We used the ferry to cross from the island to the mainland to visit another part of the diocese, where our co-missioner has been helping with an epilepsy clinic.
We stopped to put our feet in the Indian Ocean. We arrived at low tide and walked all the way out to the waves breaking.
hThe walk was a bit of a challenge due to the beautiful but prickly sea life. We moved carefully and in awe of the beauty surrounding us. John captured the clarity of the water and the variety of life - crabs, birds, starfish, sea urchins, sea cucumbers, fish, birds, coral and wonders I don't know the names for.

Within a couple of hours, the coral reef was submerged. It made for an even trickier trip back to shore as John's camera doesn't know how to swim - and the sea life below was more difficult to see in 3-4 feet of water.

During our visit to Mivumoni parish, I met with the women's microfinance group and we all met with the youth group. They were interested in life in America and sang a blessing for each of us before we left.
Back in Mombasa, we saw a bit of history. Fort Jesus was built in the 1500's by the Portuguese.

Now I remember what a luxury it is to have choices, to have options. Thank you for the continued support, letters, emails, and prayers. I hope you all find yourself at home wherever you are.