sweet cuppin cakes

Dearest warafiki,

I feel really good today. Mzuri sana. After traveling for over two straight days (53 hours) I think I am finally getting over the jet lag and the motion of moving and the no sleep part. This is why I feel good. I am whole to the point where I can semi-realize where I am at and what I am doing. This is important when you wake up and find yourself in Africa, with all new people in all new situations. I have never traveled outside of the United States before. Since last Wednesday I have been through 4 airports in 3 different continents. I have traveled to New York, over the Atlantic Ocean, to and through London with a few hours of visiting the city in between (and yes Bryce I did stop in a Pub and it had mahogany on the walls and it was delicious.) I saw Big Ben, the Parliament Buildings, Buckingham Palace and the changing of the guard, Tony Blair’s house, and countless other incredible old buildings. I hadn’t slept on the plane the night before, so the pictures aren’t that great, but the experience was good. As I took the Tube back to Heathrow I thought to myself that this was the first time I had been out of my home country and the place I was at was just a stopover for the things to come.

And then I was in Kenya. Restlessness pays off. This place makes my heart jump. I have been here for less than a week and living here continually draws me in. Into something I have never experienced but always knew about in those places where desire comes from. Yesterday along with turning the solar panels I was responsible for accessing the mood of my classmates and faculty here at the Kilimanjaro Bush Camp and saying something about it at the end of day. A good friend and roommate of mine suggested a book that I should read during my trip, “Through Painted Deserts.” Last night Donald Miller did me a great favor in summarizing what I needed to say, I’ll share an excerpt with you.
“I want to keep myself fertile for the changes, so things keep getting born in me, so things keep dying when it is time for things to die. I want to keep walking away from the person I was a moment ago, because a mind was made to figure things out, not to read the same page recurrently. Only the good stories have the characters different at the end than they were at the beginning. And the closest thing I can liken life to is a book, the way it stretches out on paper, page after page; as if to trick the mind into thinking it isn’t all happening at once. Time has pressed you and me into a book too. This tiny chapter we share together, this vapor of a scene, pulling our seconds into minutes and minutes into hours. Everything we were is no more, and everything we will become, will become what was. This is from where story stems, the stuff of its construction lying at our feet like cut strips of philosophy. I sometimes look into the endless heavens, the cosmos of which we can’t find the edge, and ask God what it means. Did you really do all of this to dazzle us? Do you really keep it shifting, rolling round the pinions to stave off boredom? God forbid your glory would be our distraction. And God forbid we would ignore your glory.

Our little band of college kids seeking adventure, something different, more things on the list of life, a story to tell their grandchildren, and for some of us the “why” questions of life is just beginning on a three month journey that will take us together to places we have never seen before and may never see again. I’m excited to be doing this in community. You all know how much of an advocate of camaraderie I am. You can just imagine how excited I am to experience life in totality with these people. 28 students, 5 professors, 2 teachers assistants, a cook and the Maasai people all around us. The professors at the School for Field Studies, Center for Wildlife Management are all native Kenyans, most Maasai. They have all been to universities here in Kenya and over in the states. They grew up with this land and they know what the conflicts, problems, and benefits of it are. I couldn’t ask for better real world and book expertise than what these men have to offer. The students who are attending the program are from all across the United States and not of one of them is from Indiana other than me. I think I’ll have a lot of places to visit when we all get back from here. The other day I was given a new name by the staff and faculty here, “Mrefu,” this means tall one in Swahili. I think its kind of catchy and apparently so does everyone else here. I get it instead of Zach about half the time now. This group has gotten along great so far and I’m sure we will have our disputes, but I think this can be a really good thing for the next three months. And now that I can successfully throw the Maasai spear nobodies gonna mess with me:)

My computer batteries about to run out and all the outlets are taken at the moment, but I want to tell you a little bit of what I have experienced in the culture here so far. I am living in a town by the name of Kimana in southeastern Kenya. It is four hours drive from Nairobi and smack dab in the middle of Maasai land. Roads are places where more than one person has driven, no more no less. The dirt doesn’t stick, it comes up in big red clouds with any hint of a wind. It doesn’t rain often and the rocks come up out of the ground to remind us. The water buffalo is more dangerous than any other animal and biodiversity is surprisingly abundant when you think about what the harsh land has to offer. When I am standing in the cold outdoor shower in the morning I can see Kilimanjaro being illuminated by the morning sun over the stall door. Most people you happen to meet have faces of joy and a happy greeting to offer. The children are beautiful. I went into the main part of town for the first time on Saturday and our group got overtaken by a seemingly angry mob of children. Turns out all they wanted to do was hold our hands and play soccer (mpira) with us. At one point me and Julius, another guy on the trip had like 3 kids per hand. Pretty fun. But then when it was time for us to leave we said the usual Swahili goodbye, kwa heri, and they asked us for money. We found out later that until recently kids in this area have never begged for money. The drought has done bad things for everyone involved.

And this is where things get discouraging. I said earlier that the land here is harsh. Thorns protrude form every plant you come across. The ground doesn’t give you anything here. Copious amounts of fertilizer, work and prayer are all that these people have. What does grow birds, elephants, water buffalo, and many other animals can come and destroy in a day. I guess this is a big reason why I am here. The people of this area want people to know of their hardships so more can be involved in how to make it better. Many of them want to preserve the wildlife, but they can’t even think about sustainability when their kids don’t have the next meal. The Maasai have traditionally been pastoral nomadic people. Moving around grazing their livestock and believing that God has given them these things as a gift, not to mess up. They have lived like this for almost 3000 years. There is even evidence that the land and the plants and the wildlife have adapted along with the Maasai. When the water and the animals move, the Maasai move and back and forth like that. Since colonialism the Maasai have had increasing pressure to not be nomadic, to settle down, raise crops, and be like everyone else. Some have and some haven’t and the debate as to whether their culture can and should be preserved can go on and on, but what I am being taught is that the Maasai in one form or another were really good at living in harmony with the natural world around them and when they were forced to settle the idea of conservation of wildlife became necessary in this region because things were suddenly out of whack. I’m not saying that the Maasai had everything right or that there weren’t and aren’t other problems like overpopulation and habitat fragmentation and continual bushmeat poaching and sale and insularized wildlife, but this is the problem I am working with. The other students and I and this school is here first to understand the problem, let Africa change us and then maybe we can offer a helping hand. I’m here to do many things. Be with God, be with people like me and unlike me, ponder what’s next, learn a new language and use it in its native habitat, see experience and work with mega fauna that before last year I would have never dreamed of getting this close too, learn how to be without many things including the things that feel like home, smile at lots of people, and continue loving life.

Tuesday my group and I had our day off for the week, (we do school 6 days a week and have some random day off depending on the schedule and what the weathers like.) We decided to go first to Loitokitok to visit a waterfall and drive through an area of the country we haven’t been before, then to go to the market which happens in Kimana on every Tuesday. The waterfall was all dried up, but just on the other side of it was Tanzania. I stuck my foot across the border. The market was incredible. As a group we all walked around for a while like a bunch of dumb white kids who knew three words in Swahili and then split up. When most people had dispersed and headed to the bar I decided to stick around and see what I could see. I bought a few things. Buying things here is much different than in the states. If you’re really cheap you can barter with whoever’s selling your desired item, walk away a few times and mayb’e come to an agreement on the price. Bartering is a lot of fun. I decided to barter for a pair of sandals made out of tires and decorated with beading and a backpack. Altogether I spent 800 Ksh. About eleven US dollars for albeit cheap 4000 cubic inch backpack and a pair of sandals that will make me look like I’ve been here for longer than I actually have been. I also learned a few new Swahili words and made a lot of people laugh in the process. Then I joined the rest of the group that had stayed in town in the bar, got offered a drug called Mira and learned some more Swahili. Some situations like that one feel a little bit sketchy, but I was in a group and a few words of Swahili can go a long way. By the end of the day I was comfortable in town and will hopefully be visiting there more often.

Yesterday we had the opportunity to visit a Maasai boma and watch the Mamas traditional song and dance. Maasai song is a lot like harmonized chant and there dancing is a lot like jumping in a line. Fun was had by all. They demanded that we sing them an American song. Yankee Doodle Dandy was our choice and we did it in rounds. We are ridiculous, but they liked it. After that we all split up and they invited us into their homes to see what those are like. This opportunity is really rare and without our native professors it would have never happened. A Maasai house is about 5 foot tall at the peak of the roof, made of sticks, smoothed out cow manure, grasses and mud. It has three rooms and sometimes a garage. The women stay on one side, the young boys and men stay on the other side and there is a room in the middle with a fire pit and small sitting area. These people live incredibly simple lives and seem to be really happy with it. They know how to make milk keep for up to forty days with a type of charcoal, they can track and kill nuisance wildlife, they know all the uses of the medicinal plants of the area, and one of their main diet staples is cow’s blood. I am looking forward to more interactions with them.

Over the next few months I will be visiting five of Kenya’s wildlife parks, Amboseli, Nairobi, Tsavo West, Chuylu hills, and the Maasai Mara. I will be getting to know a whole new lifestyle with a whole new group of people and it makes me excited. Mayb’e by the time I leave here I can say I contributed something to Africa; right now all I can say is that what I have to learn from it and its people will stay with me for the rest of my life. Some things that are really on my mind and in my prayers lately are about relationships, language learning, balance, and decisions. With relationships I pray that I can get to know these people and that they can get to know me well enough that we change each others lives and we do it patiently, but quickly enough to see its fruit in three months; with language learning I pray that I can just soak up this language like a sponge just because I’d like to and it’d give me something more to talk about with the people around here than hellos and goodbyes; with balance I pray that with all I am doing I can see the big picture and focus my greatest efforts on my greatest needs, balance between people, learning, reading, understanding, play...; with decisions I have started to realize that I’m growing up and my life is about to take shape in front of me whether I’m ready for it or not, I want to be ready and willing and listening for whatever God has next. For the next three months if you pray please pray that my heart and ears and hands are open for the work God has in mind. Pray that this time is not about just Zach, but about Zach being in the place and with the people God has set Zach aside to be in and with. While here know that I remember and long for those I will be coming back to see in three months. Although my access to messages is infrequent let me know how life for you is.

Kwa Heri,
Love,
Zachary (Mrefu)