It's raining folks and boy is it muddy!

The driver gunned the engine of the matatu (passenger van), while shaking the steering wheel back in forth to gain traction and avoid getting stuck in the mud. Never mind that the road was severely rutted and meandering, with school children and farm animals making sure to get out of our way. Thankfully, Duncan, our driver is as good as they come on these roads.

Duncan a little worried that the van is too full

All of us were tired, a little wet and ready to go home to our families, after building a new roof for Milka, a widow that we were helping through Flow of Hope missions. John uses these guys regularly for these kind of projects. Visiting Msungo's (white people) pay for the materials; and we all work together to improve peoples lives. Rain or shine; and this day, it was mostly rain; the first big rain of the season. A blessing to the land, but possibly not the ideal conditions for roofing.

John and I purchased tools, hardware, roofing and the wood the day before, so that it would be all ready in the morning for pickup. The van was loaded, with the materials and the crew and the sun was shining. We made a last stop for lunch supplies that Milka would cook for us later and then arrived at her house. Surprise! Of course, John did not tell her that we were coming (or, necessarily that she was getting a new roof). I think he likes to show people how miracles happen out of the blue. He says it increases their capacity to hope.

Within a quick couple hours, we had the old sheeting and roof supports (I am reluctant to call them trusses, as they we just small trees and sticks nailed together) off the house and were well under way of building the new trusses, but the clouds were increasing. And it started raining, waves of heavy showers, broken by short durations of lighter rain and occasional reprieves from the onslaught. Yes, Milka's house was missing it's roof. She threw sheets of the old roofing over the beds and couch and chairs. The carpenter and a couple others put plastic bags on their heads and backs. Duncan covered up with his shawl. I gave my hat to Micheal. We stood under cover or against a building. And we worked.  

These guys, Africans, were great, good spirited, never complaining and thankful for the rain. They were also wet, undoubtably cold and most volunteering. It was a long day. I was home by 7:30pm and in the bath after scarfing down some food. My hands were stained from the clay soil and I relished the feeling a  full days work. Most importantly, Milka and her grandchildren were likely cleaning their muddy house, but marveling at the shiny new roof above their heads and lack of drips falling from above.

I am thankful for this time to get to know some Kenya guys, see the fruits of our labors and bless some people that live life with so little. These trips for us, to the undeveloped world as we call it, always help to re-assess our values and sense of our needs and lifestyles back home. Inevitably we will fall back into the clutches of consumerism and excess little by little. But for now I can enjoy a simpler life and explore the possibilities of a more socially and environmentally equitable world. My prayer is for less want, more love and always to trust that God provides. Always. Amen.

(There's more pictures in an album. Just click on the Picasa picture at the upper right side of the blog.)
Zach