Life

Two weeks. The length of time I’ve taken to process my experience at the IDP (Internally Displaced People) Camps. Rusty was able to go last term with the outreach group and I have wanted to go – along with the kids – ever since. To look down from campus over the valley and see the white tents dotting the view marking the different camps that are now there. Finally, we were able to get our opportunity to go there, minister, play and take food supplies with this terms’ outreach Saturday. About 300 students and staff went to dozens of different places in the surrounding communities – we were a part of one group going to the IDP camps.

Hearing the stories, seeing the photographs, viewing the tents from a far, and knowing what life was probably like for the people there was NOTHING compared to going down and seeing first hand what the camps were all about! I was hoping by now I could fully comprehend what I saw and what is happening there, but instead, I have come to the realization that it is truly beyond my complete comprehension! The atrocities that placed these people in the camps happened before I arrived in Kenya and I am certain that CNN, FOX, and BBC didn’t cover the whole truth of the post election violence in Dec. 07-Jan 08. Knowing that living in this camps were a far better a choice, in their opinions, than returning to their previous towns and houses – assuming that their home wasn’t looted, burned down and/or destroyed in the violence – spoke volumes more than words could ever tell.

We filled a bus with students, soccer and volley balls, hola hoops, rice, water, and corn maize. Heading down the hills, I tried to talk through with Kayla what we were going to be doing and seeing when we arrived. We drove about 30 minutes, then parked the bus as close as it could get to the camps. We had to walk in the rest of the way. We split into two groups: Titchies in one and the jr/sr high in the other. We were too many people to go to one camp. It was a 20 minute or so walk to get where we were going.

As we walked, the first thing I noticed was the tents. White, to help keep off some of the hot Africa sun, no bigger than a 3-4 man tent. The tent we had in the States is bigger than these. I think back to all the times we went camping – knowing that it was challenging because it lacked so many “necessities” to life that we’d been used to or how many times we “camped” with hot showers and toilets near by! It was always fun though because we knew it was temporary and that we could pack up and go home whenever we wanted. These people didn’t have that option. There was no packing up. This was home. Everything they owned was still held within their four walls of white fabric. My heart broke.

I was walking behind the group with Kayla and Micah. Up the road we see a water cart stuck. The donkey had decided it didn’t want to go up the hill and had backed its way into a ditch. ‘Our kids’ (most of the Titchies we were with) & Rusty were helping push the cart out. One was wondering why we had to help when the donkey was being so stubborn. It dawned on me that it was just a small token of time, but how much more could we really help the community than by helping their only water get there! Saying so to the kids really gave them the extra motivation to help and squelched the criticism of one! No matter what we did for a little while the donkey wanted no part of it. One of the girls watched Micah, Kayla, and the other stuff we set down to help and I jumped in help. We pushed and prodded. The cart boys tried to persuade the donkey in the right direction. It took all the strength, determination and patience that we had to finally get that beast to go up the tiny hill. The phrase “stubborn as a mule” now makes more sense!

The boys who were working with the donkey were grateful. As I looked at them I couldn’t help thinking of my two older nephews and dorm boys – they were all about the same age. Knowing that they were doing their job and how hard their work was. They don’t have the opportunity to play with their friends during the day, have sport games to play in, and do the things that we normally think kids this age should do. No, they had a job to do – not for “pocket money” and weekend cash, they were doing their part to help their families survive. Everyone here has their part in the family – they were just out doing theirs.

I cannot help but wonder if we as humans are not so un-similar to that donkey. We determine in our minds that we don’t want to do something, or we know better than our guide where we want to go. We fight and push against where we know we are directed to go. We’re stubborn and selfish creatures fighting against what we should just be doing willingly. I can only imagine what God sees when He looks down and sees us in a ditch instead of on the path that we were guided to take. We’d be okay if we’d just follow His guidance, but instead we’re stuck in a ditch because we thought we knew what was better for us and where we wanted to go. How is being in a ditch better than just going down the path we’re led to go?! I don’t know, but I know how many times I’ve put myself in a ditch. My prayer is that I will continue to be open to follow God’s leading instead of being as ‘stubborn as a donkey’!

As we continued to walk, I was amazed at how big the camp was! It was rows of tents. They had found a way to work in community with each other. We came to a fork in the road and I started to head to the camp I’d been watching. It was then that I found that the camp I had been watching and looking at was not the one we were going to. Even the dire circumstances that seemed to be surrounding the camp I’d been studying didn’t prepare me for what I saw in the camp we were headed to…