We woke up already sweating on the third day of the trip,
but our only day in Kakuma. We packed up our bags, loaded the vans, and headed
to breakfast which was, easily, the best Kenyan breakfast I’ve ever had: eggs
in chapati. Get out. John Mayer was right: chapati is a wonderland.
From breakfast, we went to a local church where one of our
team members would spend the day teaching a pastor’s conference. The team had
purchased Bibles in the Turkana language (Swahili and English are the primary
languages spoken in Kenya, but each tribe also has its own language) as a gift
for these men and women, so we ended our time there by handing those out.
Our team (minus the man staying for the conference) loaded
up on piki pikis (motorbikes) and traveled in one long string to the Refugee
Camp where we had lunch at an Ethiopian restaurant. The Refugee camp, in the roughest
(and definitely semi-ignorant) description, is set-up like Epcot: each country
has its own portion of the camp in which all of the schools, churches,
restaurants, etc are authentic to that culture. Then, when you leave that
section, and pass through a set of fences, you enter another country’s portion
with their own schools, homes, churches, etc. (As I said, there must be a
better, more educated, way to describe this, but the southern Californian in me
most easily makes this connection.)
We arrived at the Ethiopian restaurant and had giant plates
of food, and amazing Ethiopian coffee. As we sat there, the news of the war in
Ukraine came on the television. Our team went silent. We watched, some cried,
and all were in shock at the destruction of towns all over their country. We
asked the staff to turn off the TV after that segment and we sat, as a team,
and sang songs. I sang old church songs in English and Vlad, the Ukrainian
worship pastor, sang the same songs in Russian...the few who knew the words
joined in. I kept hearing the song “Nothing But the Blood of Jesus” in my
head...I wasn’t sure if that was one they would know, but couldn’t shake the
feeling that I was supposed to start singing, “Oh precious is the flow that
makes me white as snow! No other fount I know...nothing but the blood of
Jesus.” And so, in the silence of the restaurant, I began. As soon as I sang,
“what can wash away my sin?” the entire team responded with “nothing but the
blood of Jesus”—in various languages. We sang through the song together and it
was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful moments of the trip. The team,
before this, had felt a little disjointed at times—at least to me, since I
don’t speak Russian and very few of the Ukrainians spoke English—but, in this
moment, there was such unity in the name and power and person of Jesus...it was
amazing.
We walked out of the Refugee Camp and back to the vans to
begin our drive back to Lodwar. As we waited for the team to gather, our friend
Jacinta, (from Kitale) who recently became a social worker at the refugee camp,
stopped by to say hello. She was supposed to meet us earlier, but our schedules
shifted and then conflicted. She spent years caring for abandoned, hurting, and
abused children and teenagers in Kitale while she went to school to earn her
degree. She is now so happy to be doing what she loves and has always wanted to
do: caring for the refugees. It was so nice to see her and so great to hear her
talk with such passion about her new work and community.
A few hours later, we were back in Lodwar town for a quick
dinner (chicken and chips, of course) and then off to bed! We had a big day
planned for Thursday...a visit to Lake Turkana!
1 comment:
"Set up like Epcot" is a great visual! I have tears falling from my face visualizing "nothing but the blood of Jesus" in several languages. You're my hero!
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