01 July 2015

Josephine and Susan

A CUP OF TEA

     It had been raining heavily in May and we put our compost in a tire with dirt on the roof where this watermelon sprouted.  The rain made it grow and Josephine, who helps us in the house, watched over it faithfully .

     Last year a wall in Josephine's house fell down when it rained hard.  She lives in an 'informal settlement' which is a polite name for a slum. So I had asked her if the house was OK after a downpour.  She said it was OK.  The rains continued and I kept meaning to check on the house but failed.  I was 'very busy'.  The day we picked this watermelon I gave her a lift to the bus stage on my way to Saturday evening Mass and as she got out of the car she said she would like to talk to me the next week.  When I asked her what she wanted to talk about she said, 'My house is falling down' and rushed off with a smile on her face.  I went to church and prayed for forgiveness.  I should have asked about her house again as the rains continued.

     So the next week I made sure we sat down for a cup of tea at mid-morning.  I not only let her talk about the house I listened to her.  She was married and pregnant by age 16 and subsequently had 5 children.  At one time she had a little shop with a pretty good inventory but her husband drank heavily. One day when she went to visit her family he sold it all and went to his family and spent all the money on more drink. She left him but her family convinced her to give him another chance; which she did. She got her shop going again and in a repeat performance he sold everything again and she said goodbye forever.

     Her oldest son is infected with HIV and sexually harassed her youngest daughter.  One daughter died of AIDS and left a boy who is infected with HIV but is doing well at age 11.  Her second son was a bright student but was hit by a car when he was 14 and the brain injury has left him permanently disabled.  In one violent outburst he attacked her with a kitchen knife.  Her fourth child, a very bright girl, was accepted to university but got pregnant. She recently brought the granddaughter back to Josephine to take care of.  It was exhausting for Josephine to be doing 2am feeds for a little one at age 58.  The youngest daughter is 14 and both Josephine and I are trying to keep her mind on her books and away from the boys.  So far so good.

     The government used to give Josephine money every month for the disabled son and the HIV infected grandson.  That stopped last August without any explanation and she had asked for a loan for school fees for the youngest daughter.  Now she needed money to repair her house.  I have decided that enough is enough.  She has worked hard enough and I can retire the loan and help repair her house, which is nothing more than mud walls and a tin roof...which keep falling down!!!         

     I'm just sorry that I didn't have that cup of tea earlier.  I have resolved that it won't happen again.  I have learned my lesson about what is important and what is just business...of no significant value in the eternal realm of things.

     I will be leaving for Minnesota in a few days.  Our family will remember Alex on July 15th by coming together again.  I'll be in the US until the end of September as this is the year for my long leave.

PEACE OF THESE CHATTY FEATHERED FRIENDS TO YOU!

01 June 2015

World Refugee Day - 20th June 2015  

    There have been many warnings to tourists not to come to Kenya because of terrorism. The headlines in a Kenyan newspaper yesterday announced the following about Mombasa:

1. 40,000 hotel workers have lost their jobs

2. More than 40 hotels on the coast have closed

3. Nearly 1000 tour vans are idle.  50-70 vans used to go to the game parks each day.  Now it's only 5.

4. There used to be 40 chartered tourist flights each week.  Now there are only 2 from Germany.

5. A local grocery store is losing over $50,000 each month because there are no tourists buying goods.

     Perspective and context are very important.  While the tourists are avoiding Kenya, refugees are coming here because it is safer than their own country.

    

St. Joseph Shelter of Hope

     One of the workers at this hospital, Dr Eric,  is a refugee from Burundi.  See the map below if your geography is  not quite sure where that country is!  It's a tiny little country west of Tanzania that has suffered many wars in recent years.

  

     I went to do a clinic at this hospital last month but didn't find Dr. Eric.  His mother had died and he flew to Kigali, the capital of Rwanda expecting to take the next flight to Burundi.  On that very day a coup was announced in Burundi and he couldn't proceed. He waited in a hotel for three days and finally realized that he would not be able to travel to his own country.  He told his brother to proceed with the funeral and returned to Kenya.

     He came to Kenya 5 years ago because he wanted to become a surgeon.  He worked in a mission hospital for three years because they told him they would send him on for surgical training.  After three years they told him they didn't have the money for more training.  His hopes of becoming a surgeon are now gone.  Because of the fighting in Burundi he now has several family members who have come to live in his home here in Kenya and he expects more people will follow them.

     Last week I heard a lot of people downstairs.  We live above a large Muslim family and when I looked out the window they invited us down to supper.  Their daughter/sister and her family (husband and two sons) have just come from Yemen and are now 'refugees' in Kenya.  They came through Saudia Arabia and were treated badly in the airport but were finally allowed to proceed. The fighting in Yemen is so bad they don't know when, or if, they will be able to return.

     Yesterday I received a phone call from Fr. Nicky who works here in Mombasa.  He has a priest friend in Rwanda who needs medicine that is not available there and asked if I could get it.  I was able to find only 60 tablets and now the challenge is to get it to Rwanda.  Dr. Eric knows someone in Mombasa who is going to Rwanda next week.  They said they would take the medicine.

    I have been displaced but I have never had to leave my own country and not know whether I could ever go back.  So, when I think I have problems I remember Dr. Eric who was not able to attend his mother's funeral and may never return to his own country.  And when I get a chance to help someone who has trouble in his own country I try to do something to help them.  I am sure that, with Dr. Eric's help, we will find a way to get medicine to the priest in Rwanda.                                                                                                                                      

PEACE OF THOSE WHO MAKE ROOM FOR OTHERS WHO NEED A PLACE TO STAY

01 May 2015

     This little bird looks like she is on tenter hooks and uncertain of what will happen next. That's how we felt during Holy Week.

     On the morning of Holy Thursday I received a text message begging for prayers for Diane, the friend of a friend, who was hiding in a closet in her room at the University of Garissa, 300 miles north of Mombasa.  Al Shabaab attacked the only university in this marginalized area of Kenya at 6am and the rampage continued for 12 hours. Just as we left the evening Mass we got word that Diane had been rescued.  However, 150 students were brutally murdered after being taunted for being Christians and separated from Muslims students who could recite the Shahada...the witness to Islam in Arabic.  Many Muslims died as well and some bodies still cannot be found. Our Good Friday service was full of the emotions of hatred, death and grief.  I went to the Holy Saturday night vigil with a heavy heart. However, being with others who could sing and celebrate helped me to rejoice a bit as well.  Al Shabaab may have the power to bring death.  But God has the power to bring life and the resurrection of Jesus helped me to remember that.

     Since then there have been more threats, increased security, uncovered plots for more destruction and the closure of two more universities because the safety of the students could not be assured.  No doubt Al Shabaab will try again.

     On a happier note, we had planned to meet up on Easter Monday for a party.
Unbeknownst to me, my friends had planned to celebrate my 30+ years as a Maryknoll Lay Missioner. Rehema and Bethany Klueg made this beautiful picture and behind them Curt Klueg is holding a picture of the icon the Christ of Maryknoll.  Anita Klueg rewrote the words to John Denver's Country Road and the St. Patrick Fathers gave me a gift of a voucher for a massage for my aching muscles!

     Tessa made a lovely folder of letters and cards from many family and friends she had contacted through means quite amazing to me.  Truly, where there is a will there is a way.   I was surprised at the different people who wrote and sent love and memories.  One person wanted to buy me a gift and Judy knew that I didn't have a chair with much back support so she made that suggestion.  He was a bit surprised but agreed.  She spent much of her precious time going from store to store and sitting in innumerable office chairs to find just the right one...and she succeeded wonderfully.  This chair is exactly what my old aching body needs to make it through the day.  To all who made the day so happy and memorable I say thank you again and again.
     Today is the feast of St. Joseph the Worker and brings happy memories of people I have known who are part of the Catholic Worker movement.  You know who you are and I wish you many blessings in the ongoing movement begun by Dorothy and Peter so many years ago.  You are at the forefront of helping us all to remember that peace requires love and justice.

PEACE OF THE HONEST HARD WORKER TO YOU!!!

01 April 2015

Susan and Mama Teresa

PALM SUNDAY 2015

          The moment I opened the door at 9am to leave for the Palm Sunday procession I knew I would need my umbrella.  There wasn't a cloud in the sky and it was like opening the door to an oven.  A large group of mostly young people had gathered at the school about a half a mile from the Cathedral and we followed our new Archbishop down the main street.  I had my umbrella in one hand and palms in the other.  The youngsters moved ahead and I looked back to find Mama Teresa all by herself, the last one behind all the rest of us.  Behind the both of us was a police officer whose job it was to see that we arrived safely.
     She had an umbrella but was using it as a walking stick.  So I lagged back and shielded her with my umbrella.  We have met at Mass, which she attends daily, but this was my first chance to 'visit' with her.  She didn't seem to mind my array of questions.  She was born 81 years ago in Nairobi but moved to Mombasa when she got sick and couldn't take the cold weather of the highlands during the rainy season.  She was shot in the foot during some of the demonstrations during independence in the early 1960s.  Now she lives in a building for 'old people' which is owned by one of the priests.  When I told her I was a lay missioner she perked up and said, "Just like me.  All I need is a place to live and food to eat.  Otherwise I live my life for Christ."  She has a reputation for being cantankerous but, that day, I was inspired by her faith and commitment.  Imagine walking half a mile in the blazing sun on a damaged foot at the age of 81...to follow Jesus!
     Last month we sent a three year old boy, Clinton, to Nairobi for a mass on his nose.  He was born with a small pimple over the bridge of his nose and lived on the other side of Kenya, about 900 miles away.  Someone referred him to the big medical center on that side but he didn't go due to lack of money.  Last year his father died and his mother disappeared.  The grandparents were caring for him and they had moved to a slum in Mombasa  looking for a way to survive.  Clinton would not say one word to me because he was in pain with pus dripping out of two sinuses, one on each cheek at the edge of the mass.  Surly he had heard many insults from others and was afraid of what I was going to do.  He was one of the saddest little boys I had seen in the clinic.
     I sent pictures of his nose to a friend who is an Ear, Nose and Throat doctor.  He gave me a good idea of the possible causes. I had done a CT scan and included all these details in my phone call and referral note.  When Clinton was examined at the mission hospital in Nairobi they said they couldn't help him and suggested he go to the big national hospital.  My experience with that institution is replete with long delays and repeated requests for more money.  Since I was paying the costs from my ministry account I wasn't prepared to entertain an unknown number of demands for bribes.
     So I sent him along to another mission hospital three hours down the road.  They welcomed him warmly and did the surgery promptly.  Afterwards he was happy and playing with other children while recovering from the surgery.  The wound kept leaking fluid and after a couple of days the surgeon took him back to the operating room to try to stop the leaking fluid.  During the procedure his heart stopped and although they revived him he died two days later.
     This is a Holy Week to reflect on life and death.  Clinton's death shocked us all and devastated his grandparents.  The cost of taking his little body back to the other side of the country was almost as much as the medical costs. In total over $900 went out of my ministry account.  I know the grandparents were grateful for this assistance but nothing can help their grief in losing a little boy who had finally gotten the treatment he should have had long before.  He suffered because of their poverty. He died most likely because of a problem with the anesthesia. I take some comfort in knowing that, for a few days, he was free of pain, happy and enjoying playing with other children.
     Tomorrow we will begin the Triduum, the three most important days of the Christian year.  I will be remembering how much Clinton suffered during his short life, because of poverty and our inability to insure that those in need get the basic rights they deserve.  I'll also be thinking about Mama Teresa and her commitment to follow Jesus who died such a horrible death.  What does it mean to follow such a man?  Am I ready to face the challenges and pay the price?

Let's keep our eye on the hope of the resurrection. Let us follow Jesus, and Mama Teresa and Clinton, with all our hearts.  Let us be people of faith, hope and...most importantly love.

Peace of the shining sun and risen Christ to you!

01 March 2015

Susan and Mama Nemah 

Installation of Archbishop Martin Kivuva Musonde

Catholic Archdiocese of Mombasa

No, neither one of us is the new Archbishop but finally, on 21st February, Archbishop Kivuva was installed at the stadium...see the net beside us!!!  I was sitting in the last tent and was very happy to meet Mama Nemah who is one of the pillars of St. Patrick's parish where we also have a clinic. Neither one of us got close enough to really see the Archbishop but everyone was very excited and the average Kenyan seemed to enjoy the day.  When I get a picture of him I will share it.

     Many people ask me what an average day is like.  In truth, there is no such thing for me.  But I will share an unusual day.  I had gone to do a clinic across the ferry on south coast.  It only takes thirty minutes to drive there early in the morning and I drive myself.  The day was extraordinarily hot and the clinic had a fan but there was no electricity.  Nevertheless, I made it through the day and on driving home found a huge jam at the ferry. There was a long line of cars on the left side of this one way road for those of us waiting for the ferry. The other lane is for vehicles going to town.  The other lane usually moves along but on this day the traffic was so bad they, too, were backed up to where I was sitting.  The sun was beating down on my side of the car and so I rolled the window down 6 inches and hung up a cloth on the visor to block most of the sun.  Around my neck I had my reading glasses on a $2 chain from Meijers. Someone thought it was a gold chain and I screamed when I felt something on the back of my neck.  In an instant he had ripped the glasses off and was gone.  I never saw him. The people in the car next to me were upset and one of the men ran and found my glasses which had been thrown away.  I was so grateful and offered him some money.  He refused.  He was truly sorry for what had happened and kept apologizing. Good thing for my neck that I had such a flimsy and easily removable chain!  

     I rolled the window up to 2 inches and started fanning myself.  It took an hour and forty minutes to get to the ferry and when I got on I breathed a sigh of relief.  I could roll down the windows and enjoy the ocean breeze.  You have to turn off the motor while sitting on the ferry.  As we neared the shore I tried to restart it but failed.  The ignition just clicked.  I had just gotten the car back from the garage the day before!!!  I opened the hood and the battery terminals were tight.  A young security guard came and looked at everything and couldn't see any problem.  So, he offered to push me.  By now all the other vehicles going in my direction were gone and many were coming on to the ferry.  I said a prayer to Fr. Leo Traynor and was able to double clutch and get the engine going just as I was rolling down the ramp.  This vehicle is 21 years old and apparently the washing they did the day before disturbed the brushes of the ignition...or something?  I haven't had any trouble with it starting every since.  Fr. Leo taught me how to double clutch a vehicle in South Sudan but that is another story all together. I got home before dark and had the weekend to recover.

PEACE OF THE WARM INDIAN OCEAN BREEZES TO ALL OF YOU FREEZING UP NORTH.  WISH I COULD SHARE SOME OF MY SWEAT!!!

01 February 2015

Teresa, Rehema, Judy, Curt, Bethany, Anita, Susan
Maryknoll Lay Missioners Mombasa

HERITAGE

     We've welcomed a new missioner to our community, Teresa Villaruz.  She was born in California but both her parents came from the Phillipines.  She's a primary school teacher and full of enthusiasm and compassion for her students.  Anita's mother is Philipina and her father is from the US.  The rest of us are various mixtures of German, Irish and who knows what else.
     Teresa has been mistaken for Chinese here in Kenya.  When she happily greeted a woman on her way to Swahili language class she was met with an angry barrage in an unfamiliar language. The Chinese are not well liked in Kenya for various reasons.
     Being white I have been called 'mzungu' (Tanzania and Kenya) or 'kawadja' (South Sudan) often over the last 30 years.  They both mean 'white person' and it seems impolite to me.
     Anita had an upsetting incident as well recently.  She got on a matatu which is a small van for public transport of 14 people.  A young Kenyan man of Arab descent told the conductor, "All white people are bad.  They disrespect our culture by teaching women to dress in short skirts and no sleeves with no cover on their heads.  They don't respect Mohamed (may peace be upon him)."  The Muslim woman next to Anita said, "It's true."  Anita felt trapped in a small vehicle with people who obviously didn't like her and so she only spoke in swahili to ask to get off the vehicle at her stop.
     When she came to our house she was understandably upset and didn't know about the Charlie Hebdo incident in France which had just occurred.  If she'd had the chance she would have said, "But aren't we all God's children?  When we say 'all' those people are bad then not a single one of us can represent our God of love and peace."
     There are still people in the US who think that President Obama is a Muslim, which for them seems to be a bad thing.  Even among educated US citizens there are many who label others and allow racism and prejudice to continue in schools, work places, neighborhoods and places of worship.
     This is not a religious war.  It is a worldwide problem that persists because leaders and governments choose violence over conversation and dialogue.
     We, as Maryknoll Lay Missioners, try to be a bridge  between our home culture and Kenyan cultures.  That is one of our eight core values.  We all know many Kenyan Muslims, Christians and people of other faiths who are peaceful, generous and loving.  Let us admit our prejudices, move forward and love each other and embrace one another in peace and forgiveness.  Then we can build a world that loves through our differences because we are beautiful, we are the image of God.

LOVE

"Love people even in their sin, for that is the semblance of Divine Love and is the highest love on earth.  Love all of God's creation, the whole and every grain of sand of it.  Love every leaf, every ray of God's light.  Love the animals, love the plants, love everything.  If you love everything you will perceive the divine mystery in things.  Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day.  And you will come at last to love the whole world with an all-embracing love."

Fyodor Dostyoevsky - The Brothers Karmazov

Invite someone different  to share your love!

Peace and the love of 

St. Valentine to you!!!

01 January 2015

Hang on and keep the faith!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

    On December 23rd I had a busy clinic day in Voi Kenya. In the late afternoon a 32 year old man walked into my office, neatly dressed and speaking English.  The clinical officer had referred him because she was worried he had leprosy or an autoimmune disease.  From the description he gave me he had a common skin disease.  I had been seeing lots of complicated cases so I was relieved this wasn't going to take a lot of time.  I asked him to remove his shirt so I could see all the rash...just to make sure.  As he started to pull off his shirt he said, "I'm a police officer".  I thought his comment was a bit strange but he was more polite than most officers I'd met.  Off came the shirt and then he pulled out a pistol from his hip and laid it on the desk...the barrel pointing at the wall and not at me. A squeak escaped from my throat and he said, "I had to tell you".  I concentrated on the skin and confirmed my diagnosis while gathering my wits.  I later learned that this clinic is the medical home for the Kenya Wildlife Service, of which he is an employee.  It made me realize, one never really knows what is hidden and who is protecting you. 

     After Christmas Josephine came to help us with our cleaning on Saturday, as she usually does.  I routinely asked her how her Christmas was...expecting the answer to be 'wonderful!'  Instead she sadly told me her nephew was shot and killed the day before Christmas.  He was out late at night eating with some friends and a thief ran by the place where they were seated at the side of the road.  The police shot in the air twice and then three times at the thief who got away.  Her nephew was shot through the left upper chest and died before reaching the hospital. He was 24 years old and was midway through his training to become a mechanic.  His father had died of AIDS last May and he was the hope for the family.  

     This morning I awoke to the news that a two year old boy accidentally shot and killed his 29 year old mother in a Walmart store in Hayden, Idaho when he reached inside her purse where the gun was hidden.

     So, as this year of 2014 draws to a close I have visions of guns running through my mind.  I looked up at the wall of our flat and saw this flower amazingly anchored by two roots horizontally attached to various pipes along the wall.  In the small opening nearby sat a pigeon.  I suspect that we rarely know how precarious the situations in which we live our lives truly are.  Neither do we trust that God is always with us no matter what.   

     January 1st is World Day of Peace and the feast of Mary, Mother of Jesus.  It is also the tradition of Maryknoll Lay Missioners in Kenya to pray and work for peace on the first day of each month throughout the year. Let us put away the violence in our lives and make our world a more peaceful place.

PEACE OF THE MOURNING DOVE TO YOU