...completely unrecognizable as French toast...

Monday

Today started off as usual: wake up at 7am, breakfast at 8, picked-up at 9am.

They had French toast in the restaurant this morning. As far as French toast goes, it was the worst that I've ever had... completely unrecognizable as French toast. They would've done better if they'd told me that it was some traditional African dish... because it tasted AMAZING... just nothing like French toast. Very similar to the Fettucine Alfredo at Trattoria.

Dougie B, as usual, had toast. He's so scared of African food that he wont even eat at the guesthouse. Just toast and jelly. Luckily for him, I don't have the heart to tell him where the jelly comes from....

ANYWAY... Steve was right on time, as always, ready for another exciting day in the Kibera slum.

Today was probably the best day there. The sun was shining, so it wasn't as cold. Plus it was bright outside... gives the village an entirely different look and feel!

As we drove through the street, headed toward the NCOC, I didn't feel well... not like a 'not feel well' sick, but something different. I kept feeling that something big was about to happen. Naturally I assumed that since we chose not to bring escorts today, that today was gonna be the day I proverbially bit the proverbial dust by the hand of an American-hating Kiberan.

Obviously, I didn't die... Good times.

Something pretty huge did happen though... I'll explain more later.

We met Amos at the NCOC to watch the kids at the NCOC Academy for a moment before heading to see Pastor Jane at "Wings of Life Gospel Center" to film their school.

Again these pictures simply do no justice to what it's like in this school. It's partitioned into 3 sections. The first section, just slightly bigger than 10'x10' housed 30 kids... the next section was just slightly bigger than the first, housing 60 kids!!! The last section defied the laws of physics... NINETY orphans in a room no bigger than 10'x15'!

As we walked into the room, I heard a couple kids shout "ESlim! ESlim!" soon after the rest of the school did, although I'm sure that the teachers were not too happy about it!

I got a ton of film in there, but it was very hard on account of there being no lights.. just a couple "windows." Pastor Jane then took me to their 'kitchen', "Huh." I accidentally let out...

One room littered with tables and "spare parts" was the kitchen. No electricity, just two small fire pits to cook food in. It just didn't make sense!

From there we headed back to the NCOC to have a pastors meeting with all of the pastors in Kibera. They work very closely together to reach every man, woman and child in Kibera. Perhaps we can learn a lesson from them...

Just after that, the feeding program began. The feeding program was set-up about a year ago by Help the Least of These through the NCOC. They of course feed the children in the Academy, but they also feed other kids in the community. Like this boy, Moses:

It is a very good thing that they are doing. Most, if not all of these kids will only get one meal, the meal that they receive at school. And of course, they go hungry Saturday and Sunday! The looks on the faces of these kids was astonishing. Belly's full, healthy, happy... it was beautiful. It was in this time that God started to do the huge thing that I spoke of earlier.

I just looked at Moses (above) wearing a ratty, tattered, torn, dingy, smelly, filthy, nasty (should I keep going?) 101 Dalmations Sweater, with dirt and crap (literally) all over his face and hands. I watched as he filled his spoon so full of food that he couldn't fit it in his mouth. He went to eat it and of course most of it spilled down his clothes onto the floor. He then licked the food off of his clothes, and picked the rice and beans up off the floor and preceded to eat that as well.

How could this child be THAT hungry!

He had a cup of water sitting next to him. He would take a sip and smile at me. I boy of very few words, he only spoke really when I spoke to him. "Jinlako ni nani?" (What is your name?) I said to him... "Jinlango Moses." he replied. "Do you know what's on your sweater?" I asked... "Mbwa!" he replied. "Ndio, (yes)" I responded back "but do you know who they are? They're from 101 Dalmations!"

He looked so confused. He obviously had never seen it.

I looked at his legs.. they were so bruised and scarred. Then down to his feet. He wore a pair of torn-up Chuck Taylor's, with a pieces of yarn for laces. They were about 2 sizes too small and had the soles falling right off of them.

I watched as he just sat there. Swinging his legs back and forth. Filling his mouth to overflowing with food. Swinging his legs back and forth. Filling his mouth again. Swinging his legs back and forth. Drinking from his cup and smiling at me.

I watched as I saw the face of God in a 9 year old boy with torn clothes and tiny Chuck Taylor's. Suddenly I was unable to see. It was as if the whole world vanished behind my tears. I cried. I wept.

What did this boy have to be happy about? Both of his parents are dead. He has no home, no food, and is HIV Positive. He's never seen the world outside of Kibera, and truly has NO future. How could he possibly be happy?

What did he have!!

God.

He has faith in God.

I cried even harder. What do I have to NOT be happy about? My family is alive. I have a home, food, and am quite healthy. I've seen the world outside of the slums and have a job with a promising future.

What didn't I have!!

God.

I had no faith in God.

Despite never being hungry, despite being able to pay bills, despite being in love with an AMAZING woman, despite having a family, despite having a punk-rock dog, despite having EVERYTHING in the world, I was still unhappy.

I started to pray to God, for the first time in a while. I mean I started to really pray.

It seemed in that instant that my life had suddenly turned around. Like it did a couple years ago. "Did it really have to resort to this?" I couldn't help but think.

Evidently so. All of the educated people I know, all the wise people I know, all the Pastors that I know could have never taught me what this little boy did. Are they all missing something too?

I've been trying to keep myself from saying that I want to live here. Because sadly, I do. To be quite honest, if Laura was here with me, I'd never go back.

It's easy to talk about how bad the living conditions are here, but what I have neglected to mention was just how present God is here. He is everywhere... moving.. stirring... ready to take over this nation. I want to be in that.

What will I have to do to have that back in America? As I thought this, the words on this blog finally rang true "One man's journey... to change the world." How does one change the world?

I don't know.

But I think it goes something like this: I need to put God above EVERYTHING that I do. Above Laura, my family, my friends and my job. But as I make sure that He is above all those, I need to make sure that God is IN those. I need to make sure that when people see me... no matter how torn or tattered I may be... they see the face of God.

What does that look like for me? I'm not sure. I will strive to work hard on this. But I can't do it alone. I think that I've proved over and over again that I can't do it. I'm not asking for people to do it for me... I'm asking for accountability. I've asked for the this many times from many REALLY close friends over the last 6 months. I've not received it. This will need to change.

I need to truly chase after and fight for the hearts of every man, woman and child in my area. Because as I do this, hopefully God will transform those lives as well. This guy reaches that guy, this woman reaches that woman, this boy reaches that boy, this girl reaches that girl and suddenly the world is changed. The whole world takes care of the widow and the orphan. The whole world becomes equal. The whole world rejoices and praises God, the only one worthy of praise. My journey complete?

I pray that I will one day see my journey complete... highly unlikely though in my lifetime.

Will it happen?

I think of a world not too long ago, where only 12 young men had a relationship with a guy named Jesus. I think of how they were just like me: young, stupid and weak. Yet they decided to answer a call, live a life reflective of Jesus, and reach everyone they could. People thought they were crazy, they thought they were wasting their time. But as they reached people, those people reached out... This guy reaches that guy, this woman reaches that woman, this boy reaches that boy, this girl reaches that girl and suddenly the world is changed.

I, myself, am I byproduct of their will and determination. Who's next?

Anyway... I've strayed from the story...

After sitting with the Moses, the children were ready to put on a 'show' for us. They got on the stage and said their ABC's, counted for us, sang songs (in English), and just had a good time preforming for us.

Cute... very cute...

I interviewed a couple kids from the soccer league, and then let this rap group spit "freestyle" on camera. Evidently they think that if you're video taped, you can make it in America. Funny. I've been video taped THOUSANDS of times... what does that make me?

I then sat with Nicholas, the church guitar player, to teach him about 'keys'. He only knew of one, 'C', and hey played it in EVERY song, regardless of what key the keyboard player was playing. By the end of the hour he understood it and was able to play right away with the key player. Fantastic!

We were leaving Kibera now... probably for the rest of the trip. They all knew we were leaving for a long time.

Three days in Kibera, the most beautiful place on earth.

I wish I had spent more time there. I wish that I had made and impact on the village. I started to tear up. I wanted to do more! I wanted to touch the lives of the people there.

"ESlim! ESlim! Mwebamba! Mwebamba!" I heard from behind me. I turned around and here runs a handful of orphans... STRAIGHT FOR ME! They hit me with such a force that I instantly fell to the ground. They jumped on me hugging every part of my body from every possible angle! "I love you! I love you! I love you!" they rang out in unison, in the style of their famous "How are you! chants.

Had I underestimated myself? More importantly, had I underestimated God?

I fought the fiffers off of me and headed down the way and ran into Dickens who grabbed my hand pull me in and said "I want do a collab wit you!" haha...

I walked passed a shop, and a woman yells: "Mwebamba!!!" I turn around to see this cute young girl running a vegetable stand. "You shake my hand?" she says. "I'll do better," I reply "come here!" I rapped my arms around the girl and squeezed here tightly. She immediately jumped around.. excited... she got to HUG the Mwebamba!

God is good.

S