#bym2012 day #3

I think that it is worth re-pointing out here (as I do in the about page of my blog) that the views contained within all my blogposts are my own and are not intended to be those of my employers or any organisations that I volunteer for.

What does being a Quaker mean to me? Everything. How can it not? There’s an Inner Light that has stirred within me and I has wrought changes upon my life over the past twelve years or so.

These thoughts are stirred first by Geoffrey Durham’s prepared ministry this afternoon about what being a Quaker means. Afterwards a friend said to me that it was during Geoffrey’s ministry that the yearly meeting came together and really felt alive for the first time this weekend.

We don’t have to please everyone who comes to us – we’re not a pick ‘n’ mix religion. We shouldn’t be afraid to offend people, not because we’re being rude, but because our faith, our journeys, aren’t for everyone.

Like George Fox writing about standing still in the Light – we trust our decisions because they spring from a deep place.

And now could be the time to forget some of the labels like Christian, theist, non-theist, Buddhist or whatever. The word Quaker is enough. The discipline of Quakerism is more important than any other word, said Geoffrey.

And discipline is an important word said Geoffrey. He quoted text from our Quaker Faith & Practice chapter 11 at 11.01 and 11.10. 11.10, about the process of applying for membership, reads: For the individual this process is likely to reflect a wish to make a public statement to show their commitment to the discipline of Friends and their recognition that this is their spiritual home.

Geoffrey talked about discovering that he is a Christian Quaker, a Christian without a creed and he quoted text from Isaac Penington in 1660.

I’ve never known such kindness as in Quaker community, he said. Then Geoffrey quoted Plato, to the effect that we should be kind to everyone who we meet as everyone is fighting a hard battle.

Listen with love, kindness and creativity, embrace the worshipping community that we are and discern what we may become.

Find the words to describe our faith is important to me and is one of the reasons why I set up my Nayler blog. We Quakers need to be able to talk about our faith and our Quaker journeys. Not necessarily as eloquently as Geoffrey but finding our own authentic language.

This was underlined for me when I got home. An old friend wrote to me tonight by email. We had lost touch some years ago but she was writing because when we had been in touch some ten years ago I had told her about my new Quaker faith. My friend wrote that our conversation had stayed with her and today she had attended a Quaker meeting for the first time and was writing to thank me for having mentioned it to her all those years ago.

I would have talked to her about my experience of Quakerism because I was excited about the path I was taking in life. I still am. I hope that you are too. And that you can find the words to talk about it with people you know who aren’t Quakers. Not because you need to pressurise them but because you’ve got a good thing going on here and if it as precious as making you want to go and worship every week, then it must be worth telling someone about it.

In yearly meeting session today I heard a member of Quaker Stewardship Committee giving a report about their activities. QSC works as a link between church and charity and since 2002 has been giving support to trustees, especially in finance and property matters. As well as individually-tailored advice, some of their outputs are Treasurers News, the annual conference of treasurers and conferences for trustees.

Afterwards, it was the turn of Britain Yearly Meeting trustees and both the clerk and the treasurer spoke. The trustees’ role is primarily one of stewardship and also oversight of assets and property as well as the administration of the yearly meeting work. The trustees’ report shows how Quakers’ money is being used and raises awareness of work being done. Issues that came up included the Large Meeting House and sustainability. The former has led to some controversy as the trustees recently decided not to include a James Turrell skyspace in the plans for refurbishment of this room, which is let out for events for most of the year and serves as the space for yearly meeting in session for 4 days in the year, but not even every year.

There was also an exercise, ‘postcards from the future’, which was a guided meditation in which we were encouraged to see a vision of a perfect future and were then encouraged to write out the first steps that we would take towards that future. We had five minutes and the rest of our lives, we were told.

Something I heard about today that sits uncomfortably with me is on the subject of electronic communications during yearly meeting sessions. We were asked at the beginning of yearly meeting not to tweet or blog during session, as we are to concentrate on being present. Yesterday our friend Ann Limb (@annlimb) tweeted: “Hot afternoon in Friends House @BritishQuakers fascinating ministry on economic justice and sustainability @quakerquaker”. This was followed by a second tweet: “Just to make clear #bym2012 @British Quakers I’m not actually in Meeting just sitting outside listening. No tweeting in meeting!!?”

In my view, physically sitting outside of a session of yearly meeting but listening to the ministry and tweeting or blogging about it might be within the letter of the guidance but I feel that it falls squarely outside the Spirit. I hope that those of us Friends who do embrace tech communication will refrain from testing out the boundaries of this guidance and will respect it in its entirety. We should not be discouraged from sharing about what we have heard and learned after the session, whether we use twitter, blogs or other communications, just not during the session.

My day finished with a global singing session led by the brilliant Mark Russ. He led about 200 of us in worship songs from different languages and cultures and had us laughing, relaxing and belting out some beautiful songs in no time at all. Mark was doing this as part of his work with The Leaveners, the Quaker performing arts organisation. I had a great time praising the lord. Amen.

Tags: #bym2012, #quaker

#BYM2012 Day #2

This morning’s session of Britain Yearly Meeting reminded me of everything that is good about silent, expectant, waiting on God. The clerks entered the room and Friends fell silent. We entered worship. And we gave worth to God. We waited and the silence was the ministry. And as we waited the ministry was the silence.

I was reminded afterwards of the world conference of Friends and how different it was in Kenya. Then, whenever there was unprogrammed meeting for worship it didn’t take long before Friends were on their feet, ready to minister. And they ministered and they ministered. Not for a long time necessarily, but many people ministered. The only time they didn’t was when it was announced that there would be a period of silent worship and no ministry was allowed.

So back to Britain and being in a room of several hundred people. And the microphones remained in their stands and the microphone stewards were not called upon, though they remained vigilant.

Today was a day about worship.

Later the session rolled on and we had a report from Meeting for Sufferings, about what they had been up to and looking forward to the new triennial, which begins in the next few months.

Then we moved onto an update on sustainability issues. This came to the fore last year in what has since become known just as ‘minute 36‘ or ‘the Canterbury commitment’ – that Quakers commit to becoming a low carbon sustainable community. The reporter was a Friend who I know as a good speaker and eloquent and amusing writer and today was no exception. He gave us a serious ministry that was always uplifting without shying away from the problematic issues.

There has been a decent response to the request for meetings to benchmark their carbon usage and a picture is beginning to emerge. This is certainly not a short-term project and yet there is a need to see a significant reduction in carbon usage by 2015 and by 2050 we need to be down to 10% of current levels.

But we are a small part of a much larger society, country and world and we need to engage out there, not just within our Quaker communities.

From sustainability to economic justice. I can’t write about this, even though I was there. For it all just slipped on by me. The Friend that I was sitting next to said afterwards that the introductory talk was excellent and worthy of republication. But I couldn’t tell you what had been said – it seemed to pass right through me and felt quite beyond me. So I let it go and tried to stay in worship.

Consequently, I didn’t go to the afternoon session as I felt a bit out of sorts when it was beginning. Tired, even. I bumped into some Conservative Quakers and we found a room and worshipped together for a half an hour or so. I drifted into sleep then but came out feeling like I was at equilibrium again.

This evening Rachel Brett delivered the Swarthmore Lecture. Rachel has been the human rights and refugees programme representative for the Quakers at the United Nations in Geneva for some nineteen years or so. She first worked at QUNO in the 1970s and found her calling. Much of the rest of her life up to 1993 was in preparation for QUNO, it turned out. Now, nearing retirement, she had been asked to deliver the Swarthmore Lecture.

The lecture is delivered in the spirit of worship. At the end the lecturer sits down, no one applauds and we continue in worship until the lecturer shakes hands with another Friend who is sitting alongside them.

Having interned with Rachel in 2002 at the Human Rights Commission and having participated in the Quaker UN Summer School before that in 2001, I am a convert to the work of QUNO and a supporter in prayer, upholding and by giving money to support their work. Her subject used to be my subject, in a way and I found myself hanging onto every word.

I was pleased that some fellow Quaker UN Summer School alumni were there too and one has agreed to write up a review for Nayler. After the lecture we met up at the Cider Tap pub opposite Friends House and there were Summer School alumni from as far back as 1955, the inaugural year of the Summer School. And to top it off, one of the barmen mentioned that he attended Quaker Meeting for a few years when he was a kid.

It was a great way to finish the day, hanging out with lots of lovely people.

To donate to the Quaker UN Summer School bursary fund, click here.

Tags: #bym2012

#BYM2012 day #1

It was never going to be the same as the world conference of Quakers, but it didn’t disappoint. It was just different.

In Kenya, I loved going into the auditorium and there being music and singing for the lord before the formal worship. When I entered the large meeting house at the beginning of Britain Yearly Meeting, there was the familiar sound of chatter. But plenty of familiar faces from the world conference and I sat next to one in the east block.

I couldn’t see the east gallery above me, so I don’t know the figures but otherwise I would estimate that we were around 3-400 together in worship for the first session of Britain Yearly Meeting tonight.

Last year, at the beginning of the Yearly Meeting Gathering we had an Ivor the Engine story. It was told in homage to Oliver Postgate who was a Quaker who lived in Kent as well as a creator of television programmes for children. And there had been Paul Parker, the recording clerk, playing his oboe. This year Paul didn’t have an instrument with him and the clerks played it straight. There was occasional laughter from the odd thing said, including an assistant clerk’s comment about mixing up East Anglia and Wales.

Much of the first session of yearly meeting business is procedural. It needs to be done, since we have set ourselves a course of self-governance that requires discipline and attention to detail in order to build the foundation that gives us freedom to explore the leadings of the spirit across the rest of our sessions. But even the procedure is grounded in worship and the opening worship felt deep and still to me tonight.

We finished the session with three Friends sharing their reflections from the world conference. One, Rosie, has written a long piece on the Sheffield Quakers blog and if you read her post you’ll get a flavour of what she shared with us in session. And finally we sang together ‘Seek ye the kingdom of God’ and it sounded as good then as it did together in Kenya.

Earlier in the day I had spent around 4 hours around by the Britain Yearly Meeting display in the Quaker Centre. There we have a slideshow of images from our Quaker work, as well as lots of materials to take away. We’ve also got a quilt lovingly made by a Friend in Cheshire, which is on sale to raise funds for our yearly meeting’s work.

It was great meeting so many people who were passing through the Quaker Centre, meeting old friends and recognising names from correspondence and meeting in person. Lots of people asked me why I was wearing a suit though, continuing the theme from Kenya where mostly British Friends were surprised by my choice of clothing and felt the need to comment on it.

Finally, I finished the day with a cycle ride home with Laura. She took me on a tour of south London back streets, my favourite named one being Bird in the Bush Road. We recorded a Nayler podcast together but my phone battery ran out and corrupted the file. It was great cycling home with a good friend, chatting and singing and just riding with the Light into the dusk of the day.

Tags: #bym2012

Kenya, day #4

Kenya, day #4

 

It was terrifying. Perhaps. I was thinking about this at the time, wondering how I would describe this experience. We were on the Uganda Road and it was after 6, getting dark and pouring with rain. Seated in the front seats of the matatu people carrier, with 14 seats and possibly more people than that inside. We didn’t have discernible lights on and we were overtaking large Congolese oil tankers at speed. With the intensity of the rain and the driver’s single windscreen wiper unable to keep up, it was a wonder that he could see anything. There were no markings on the road, and tarmac merges with mud merges with bush on the sides. And there was plenty of traffic coming the other way.

 

It wasn’t terrifying. No, I was also thinking about the next stage of the journey after we got off the matatu, that would probably involve riding as a passenger on a motorbike in driving rain and without a helmet on on a muddy, potholed stoney road with streams of water and puddles strewn across it.

 

And it wasn’t terrifying because I was with my friend A and we were chatting about all sorts of things including faith, our lives, our families and we were reflecting on our company with each other over the past 60 hours or so.

 

Perhaps it wasn’t terrifying because I covered this same stretch of road one dark night in December 2009 with two friends while in a fault in our vehicle restricted us to approximately 5-10 miles an hour.

 

It was all of these reasons and none of them. It was thanks, despite the torrential rain and looming darkness, to being held tenderly in the Light by friends from afar, to being in God’s presence.

 

All of my writing so far seems to be about journeys. Going places. Just as peace is the journey, not the destination. My spiritual journey. But I am going places, I’m just not writing so much about them.

 

Today I went to Kakamega to meet more peace activists. And like yesterday I was meeting ordinary people who go about their ordinary lives but for one reason or another have found themselves undertaking nonviolent communications training. And from there they have taken steps to change the lives of themselves and as importantly, people in their immediate communities. Today the young men I met were also travellers and their story, not to be told here, goes to the heart of the challenges that Kenya faces while providing great hope for the future.

 

When we were ready to leave Kakamega we went to the matatu station in town. We were immediately surrounded by young men touting for our business. As a mzungu they espy an opportunity to make more money by charging me extra. But in A’s company I left all of the dealings to him. As it was, we got into a matatu and it took a full hour in order for us to leave. My right leg had gone dead from the knee down thanks to the cramped position we were sat in. At least we were out of the pouring rain.

 

I was reminded of how when we are waiting in God’s presence it is not listless or pointless time spent. We are waiting for something specific to happen though we often don’t know what. In the case of the matatu we did know what – we were waiting to leave Kakamega, to head home, to start a journey.

 

Waiting in God’s presence is a bit more like the role of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting. Ready always to do whatever is required but not taking the lead. Waiting for the command. I know of people who have waited for years for God’s call and later, looking back, can see how so many of activities that they’ve done in life were all part of a bigger plan. God’s plan. Four years ago at a Friends World Committee for Consultation – Europe and Middle East Section (FWCC-EMES) annual meeting a German Quaker talked about how she didn’t get her call until she was around 40 years old. If she had waited aimlessly for all that time she would not have been skilled enough to take advantage of the opportunities that later presented themselves – in her case the opportunity to take part in Alternatives to Violence (AVP) project work.

 

Once we were off we really were off and we bombed it down the road. We passed through Malava forest where on the journey out in the morning I had seen two monkeys perched in the foliage on the side of the road.

 

Observation #1: today I saw a man wearing an ‘Adibas’ shirt.

 

Observation #2: I saw a funeral procession in Kakamega today. It involved lots of hooting of horns, which brought me to the window. Then a black car went past, with the front passenger seat occupied by someone who was holding a framed picture of the deceased. They were followed by a hearse and then more connected cars.

Kenya day #3

Richard Foster was my guide again today as I rode with A on our way to Meelimani In his Celebration of Discipline Richard writes about ‘flash prayer’, a concept developed by Frank Laubach. Richard writes: “I have tried it, inwardly asking the joy of the Lord and a deeper awareness of his presence to rise up in every person I meet.” My version was slightly different. Since everyone we passed was probably at least thinking “Muzungu!” (white person/foreigner!) or perhaps saying it I thought that I might try this exercise too. It wasn’t the same as meeting people, but it certainly kept me busy as we went along. Richard writes that some people show no difference but others do look up and smile as if they have been addressed. Since most people were smiling anyway I have no idea how much difference I made. At least I enjoyed myself.

 

And it was different to praying constantly for a safe journey, which is what I had done for quite a while during the night preceding the ride.

 

Today was my first every journey by motorcycle.

 

When I was discussing this part of my trip with my colleagues, we talked about all sorts of things. Who would pay for what, what process we would use to edit my writing, where copyright lay, how to make sure that everything was culturally sensitive. It never crossed my mind to discuss my travel limits.

 

It turns out that travelling by motorcycle isn’t that bad. In fact, compared to the ride in the back of a truck this evening, going by motorcycle is a luxury. At first, when we were about to set off, the bike wouldn’t work. Briefly I thought that maybe it wasn’t in God’s plans for me to go by motorbike. But after a few minutes we were off, only for me to have to get off about 50 yards up the hill because the track was so uneven.

 

Thankfully today’s travel didn’t involve any travel on the Mombassa-Kampala highway. We only went on back roads, tracking over the deep red mud that seems to be everywhere. At least it wasn’t raining, that would have been hellish. Riding on the back of a bike was easier than I thought that it might be – I just had to make sure that I didn’t slide forward and that I kept my legs spread wide enough that I wasn’t gripping my driver. This morning I had even done some stretches for those muscles if only because I haven’t done any intensive exercise for a few days and my body is beginning to complain. Perhaps I can go for a run in the morning.

 

The only drawback of motorbike riding is having to hold onto a thin metal bar behind one’s backside. Once holding on it was difficult to change position without letting go and initially I didn’t have the confidence to do so. My knuckles suffered as a consequence.

 

The benefit was being close to the birds. I didn’t bring a bird book and rather wish that I did. I’ve seen so many kinds of birds that I don’t recognise. Many of them I suspect to be quite ordinary here, but to me they all look new and beautiful.

 

There’s also a certain symmetry to being so close to the road you’re travelling on, just like being on a bicycle.

 

That was something that I remarked to the bodaboda rider who took me from the venue in Meelimani to the Lugari Yearly Meeting farm in the late afternoon. Most of the day had been spent listening and observing, among Kenyans. I’m continuously being inspired by the people I meet as I watch them working and hear what they have to say about their lives, experiences and hopes and visions for the future.

 

The bodaboda rider and I got chatting. He was pleased that I could understand his English and he said he understood my Kiswahili. Go us! This was my second ride of the day and I made sure that A explained this to the bodaboda rider before we set off, just to make sure. He remarked upon my weight (110kg) as the bike puffed along.

 

Of course, the circumstances were different this time. It had rained heavily for the past hour or so, there were puddles all over the place and as the mud road was wet we were prepared to slide here and there. And there was a lightning and thunderstorm going on too. It had been upon us earlier and now was rolling around the valley, sometimes closer, thankfully mostly further away.

 

Finally, we arrived at Lugari Yearly Meeting’s property. They’ve got a farm where they’re growing sugar cane. They’re also doing lots of building works and are turning some of the property into a peace centre. An African Great Lakes Initiative work camp is doing some of those works – they’re a mixture of British, American and Kenyan volunteers. There was also some mediation training going on there.

 

The best bit of arriving at Lugari YM was meeting Wilson. I last met Wilson when I visited Eldoret Friends Church in 2009. It was a joy to meet him as I had no idea that he was going to be there. He gave me a great big hug and we had a brief chat in Swahili before I had to revert to English, as usual.

 

It was really good to be there among Friends, just chatting with a Kenyan Young (Adult) Friend about faith, transformation and what it really means to be a Quaker. Several of the Young Friends that I’ve met are totally involved in peacework and were participating in the mediation training.

 

All in all, another satisfying day, though I am already knackered and could do with a long night’s sleep. On Thursday I’ll be taking another kind of transport – a matatu – as I head off to meet more peace activists.

 

Observation #1: My HTC phone hasn’t worked at all since I’ve been in Kenya. It didn’t occur to me at all to check whether it would work, before I got here. My previous phone, a Nokia E71 worked when I visited here in 2009 so I just presumed that the HTC would work too. And Safaricom are apparently meant to only charge me 3 Kenyan Shillings a minute to call the UK. Instead I’m being charged around 20. Safaricom fail.

 

Observation #2: There are lots of non-original brand clothes around and occasionally the colours are out of sync with what I’m used to seeing (such as football shirts in completely different colours to what I expect) and today’s spot, which I didn’t get to take a picture of, was of a guy wearing “adidass” trousers.

Kenya day #2

In Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline there is an exercise that he encourages the reader to do, as an introduction to meditation. It is based on the age-old Quaker activity of centring down. I tried it out this morning just after 7am.

 

Sitting in my airplane seat, as we taxied along the tarmac outside Nairobi airport I was seated with my palms face down on my legs, an indication of my willingness to turn my concerns over to God. Dear Lord, I prayed, I give you my anxiety about flying and international travel, I give you the anxiety of the woman sitting next to me who is afraid of flying and most of all I give you my fear that I’m on the wrong flight.

 

I had arrived at the airport just before 5:30am and had been up since 4am. Since I hadn’t managed to adjust the previous night to Kenyan time, I had gone to bed close to my British time of around 11pm, which was around 1am in Kenya. And I woke in very good time for my 4:30am alarm, so good that I was awake half an hour early. I filled the time reading some Scripture, in particular Psalms 42 (the longing to go deeper, just like Delirious? ‘I wanna go deeper’…) and 51 (the slavery to ingrained habits).

 

Peter met me at the Presbytarian Guest House just before 5am – he was early. I was impressed. And grateful. We drove through near empty Nairobi streets, speaking English and no little Swahili. At the airport I had to pay an excess baggage charge with fly540. I noticed that there were two flights going, one to Eldoret and one to Kisumu. Passing through to the departures, there was essentially a cafe and two signs. One was for the Kenya Airways lounge and the other was for fly540 so I went and sat on that side. My flight was due to go at 6:30am and the due time came and went. There wasn’t a single departures screen anywhere that I could see so I figured you just go when you’re called. It wasn’t until around 6:50am that they called both the Eldoret and Kisumu flights together. Having passed through the boarding pass check I walked out onto the tarmac and there were two fly540 planes out there. And I followed the people in front of me to the plane on the right.

 

Only, having been sat in the plane for a good few minutes a delay was announced. So we waited. And then we were setting off and it was then that in passing it was mentioned over the tannoy that this was the flight to Kisumu. Whoops. I was meant to be going to Eldoret.

 

So, the centring down exercise suggested by Richard Foster. After a few rounds of releasing my concerns to God and surrendering, I turned my palms up and sought to receive from God. I would like to receive your patience about my adventures, about the woman sitting next to me and where ever I’m going this morning, that I have the strength to get through my experience and even enjoy it.

 

Perhaps I had misheard, this flight was surely going to Eldoret. As we came into land I could make out the unmistakeable view of Lake Victoria. Welcome to Kisumu! As we taxied to a halt at Kisumu International Airport I knew that now was my time. The stewardess thanked us all via the tannoy for flying with fly540 and wished us a pleasant stay in Kisumu or where ever we were going onto.

 

And then she announced that those of us going on to Eldoret should stay on the plane. Result!

 

All of that adventure was over by 8:15am. Most of the rest of my day was a listening exercise. As part of my visit to Kenya I’m spending three days meeting people who have received Turning The Tide training in Kenya. I’m not doing anything else than that really, just sitting and listening. Today, after breakfast at the Marriott Hotel (but possibly not that Marriott Hotel) I met two people who recently took part in their first round of training. They talked for hours and it was great listening to them, hearing about their past, their present and their hopes and aspirations for the future.

 

We were done by around 2:30pm. We had been meeting at the offices of the National Council of Churches in Kenya and I was disappointed not to be able to meet Wilson, a Friend who was working there in December 2009 when I last visited Eldoret. I met Wilson when I spent a morning with Friends at Eldoret Friends Church, listening to their extraordinary stories of ordinary actions during the post-election violence in 2007-8.

 

We had lunch at Sandros in Eldoret. I had sausage and chips. A fairly paltry sausage but decent enough chips and lots of sweet ketchup. And then I went looking for a dongle/modem. In 2009 when I was in Eldoret Phori, from Lesotho, and I spent an unfruitful half an hour or so looking for an adaptor for his Lesothian computer lead/plug. Fast forward two and a bit years and I was visiting practically the same shops with no joy, again.

 

Later we drove out west to Turbo and on towards Lugari. We were being driven by Daniel in a little Toyota Yaris on the Mombassa to Kampala highway. I’ve spent many hours on this road before. Plainly, it is nasty. It is a very long rat run for truckers heading between the two cities, many of which are petrol tankers. The road has massive potholes, ridges where the trucks have reformed the tarmac and sleeping policeman style bumps. Only bigger. And to top it all, around 30km of the road have been closed for relaying of the tarmac and widening it. As there’s nowhere else to go, all of the traffic has been redirected onto the side of the road and I really do mean the side. Untarmacked, muddy and still with the outrageous bumps. It isn’t mayhem, quite. But with the trucks, the matatus, the 4x4s and us in our little Yaris, it was something else.

 

The stupid thing is that almost all of the road that is closed isn’t being worked on. The roadworkers were only working on a handful of small stretches. In the UK, I’d expect maybe 2-3 miles to be closed at most at any given time and then that all to be sorted out and then the next bit done. Alas, no. The only point of mild amusement was that one of the few road users who can still use the closed road are cyclists and we got overtaken by one. Some miles later we finally caught him up as we passed through Turbo. But he got away again for a while until we finally passed him on a big hill. It reminded me of my commute to work in the mornings and passing cars all the way up the Old Kent Road.

 

I’m staying for a couple of nights with Dave Zarembka, one of the stalwarts of the Africa Great Lakes Initiative. Not long after I arrived I had some chai (for my stay in Kenya I’ve abandoned all of my food restrictions and am eating cake, puddings, biscuits, fizzy drinks and drinking caffeinated tea and coffee) and then spent a happy half hour or so playing football with a knackered old boy with some quite young boys who were hanging out outside. It was awesome. Great fun. They were wearing flip-flops or were barefoot and I was there in my x-trainer Merrells but they were happily going in for tackles against me and I learned a new way of kicking the ball. Though I like to think that I taught them a thing or two of course!

 

I’ve also met Dawn Ribbert of AGLI who is here for the world conference and is taking some time to catch up with Dave and meet the current workcampers. Quakers in Lugari have some buildings that they’re hoping to turn into a peace centre. Participants are working with local volunteers to do some works to help refurbish the buildings.

 

And so that was another day. I’m quite fed up of living out of two bags and can’t wait to get to Kaimosi where I’ll hopefully be reducing to one bag. I’ve got one that is tightly packed and the other is my dumping place for everything else and I can’t seem to stop taking things out of it and then putting them back in. Oh for the straightforward life!

 

Really, I’m enjoying my trip and I’m glad I’m here. Many of the sights from Eldoret were familiar, as was the ride on the Mombassa to Uganda road. I’m relishing the opportunity to try out my Kiswahili and I’m learning more from everyone I meet – just that I’m trying that little bit more means that people are willing to try and teach me other phrases too and are being patient with my faltering attempts to speak it. Okay, that’s it, nimeshiba.

Kenya, day #1

“Lord you have my heart and I will search for yours. Let me be to you a sacrifice.” Since I was first introduced to Delirious? In 1996 I’ve been a loyal fan of their music. And I had two of their worship songs albums on my ipod as I flew from London to Nairobi. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to play the songs in any order than the ipod chooses to play them, so I only had glimpses of their sound as I flew.

 

The day had started with a 6:30am wake up call from two sources, paranoid as I was that I might not get up in time. As it was, I was up for a couple of hours in the night anyway, so there was never much chance of missing the alarm.

 

Then, kisses and a long goodbye before the dash to the station and the first part of the journey, the overground train, the jubilee line and 19 stops on the picadilly line to Heathrow Terminal 5. Up into the terminal where I discovered that my bags weighed only 15kg and 18kg. I hope by the time that I have visited Kaimosi hospital to get down to around 20kg for one bag.

 

The flight was uneventful. I had an emergency exit seat, which I had paid extra for and had a chap either side and they both put their headphones on almost straight away. Only on the descent into Nairobi did I have a chat with one of them – a pleasant guy from the US who was flying in for work, then flying home on Thursday. His company had banned staff from travelling business class about 2 years ago so now he travels coach. At least it wasn’t megabus I suppose. He described a place that he’s going on vacation to next week, the second largest island off the east coast of the US – Hiltonhead. I don’t remember all the details but there’s some kind of swamp there and some kind of resin that means that the swamp water is black. And you can hang there for hours without seeing anyone else. It is tranquil. Oh and there are alligators. Not my scene, I don’t think.

 

No alligators here but lots of insects. And most of them seem to be my side of the mosquito nets. I remembered to take my malarone today so I’ve got nothing to fear. I’m staying at the Presbyterian guest house and I’ve got an en suite room. I think that is all I can really tell you about this place, since I arrived in the dark. I had a superb journey to here from the airport. I was met by Margaret, one half of my transport team in Nairobi. She was holding up a sign for me and I think that might have been the first time anyone did that for me (excepting family jokes). We met her colleague Peter and they drove me here and we talked about this and that and when I remembered I tried out my Kiswahili. They were so accommodating of my poor attempts to speak the language and tried teaching me more as we went along. They filled my heart with joy.

 

Anyway, back to the journey. I read volume one of the Hunger Games – what a beautiful story, while being grim all the time too. And then I began reading Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline. I came across Richard Foster when I got my jabs done about 10 days ago. The nurse, on learning that I’m a Quaker, immediately told me about him and this book. She said that it had made a major impact on her life and I was embarrassed not to have heard of him or his book. So I bought a copy from the Quaker Centre at Friends House in London for this journey. I’ve got another of his, Prayer, with me but I wouldn’t be surprised if this is enough. There are plenty of Bible references to look up even just in chapter one and there are study questions at the end of the chapter. I thought they’d be a breeze but soon discovered that I hadn’t taken much in from the chapter as I tried to answer the questions.

 

I’m a little peeved that I can’t phone home, or phone anyone right now. I meant to buy a dongle and a sim at the airport but missed where I was meant to do it and found that I had come right through the airport without them. So for now I’m writing this instead of talking to L. And I’m telling myself that this is good practice because I don’t know when I’ll be able to call home or get online.

 

Something else that happened today was that I started reading the Salt and Light conference study materials. I’ve read through it all before but I hadn’t taken much in. Even when I was signed up to an online study group I didn’t get much out of it. But today in Heathrow airport I got the booklet out and read one contribution and the question. The piece was by David Tintaya of the National Evangelical Friends Church in Bolivia. Ugh, an insect just landed on my head. I wasn’t expecting that! Now every itch is a potential insect… After David’s entry is a question: Is Christ my teacher in the University of Life? If not, where do I draw my saltiness from?

 

Christ is one of my teachers but not from just one source. I learn from him through Scripture, from ministry and through my inner Christ and that within others, particularly some people very close to me and not all of whom are Christians. David writes about someone he knows called Pascual who is down-to-earth and simple, in a way that many of us who hanker after an alleged testimony to simplicity aren’t. I imagine that Pascual is someone who applies Richard Foster’s discipline to his practices but without turning it into law that sucks the spirit out of the methods.

 

Anyway, just as I’m starting to get somewhere, I feel that it is time to turn in for the night – have a quick wash, brush my teeth, prepare everything for tomorrow and get some sleep. Good night, soon there will only be seventeen sleeps left.