From the Plane

What's below was originally written on the flight in to Nairobi, but I haven't really had the chance to post it until now.  As a teaser, today was also eventful, however I still need some time to process before I post anything about it.  Hopefully more will come soon.

Kenya now lies below me, or at so the least the flight tracker on the screen in front of me says.  I am unable to verify this fact, partly due to my aisle seat, but even standing to give myself a better angle, nothing is distinguishable below.  I see neither lights nor roads, and given the darkness, have no way of knowing if this is simply because there isn’t anything to see, or if cloud cover obscures my view.

I desperately want to see something.  Anything to prove to myself that after four years it is really Kenya which lies below, that we are in fact only about 40 minutes from landing in Nairobi.  Alas, my field of view is too limited.  I am tempted to ask the amiable Danish couple sitting to my left, but then the map displays again, and it looks like we are over a large lake, whose name, to my chagrin, is unknown to me. It appears to be part of the greater rift valley—a long and comparatively narrow body of water running roughly North-North-West.

 

I find myself for the first time really wishing that our original flight plans had held—not to say that we had any choice, and certainly it seemed a blessing at the time—one fewer layover in exchange for only an extra two hours of total travel time.  Alas, I did not think about the setting of the sun, nor do I think anyone else much considered the idea. 

I have been struggling to maintain consciousness throughout this flight, but have been doing my best to force myself through so that I might wake tomorrow largely synchronized to Nairobi time—we should be landing at around 8:10 PM, so hopefully there will be no plans for the night, and I can just concentrate on hanging on for a few more hours, though at this moment I am not sure how I will do so; caffeine seems to have lost its effectiveness for the moment, but at least I was able to make it through The Hunger Games—both the first book at the movie.

Yes, I know, I am WAY behind.

Regardless, I suppose that begins both the book and movie list for the year.  Hopefully no more than one of those lists will get too much more serious.

Arrival

We are here, all is well.  More info to follow once I'm not limited to an internet cafe.

Travels and Travails

Van from Stony Point

Orientation is over and we are now really on our way to Nairobi.  We had a delightful and crises van ride to the airport, where we arrived at the wrong terminal, but we made it to the correct terminal and through security just in time...to discover our flight had been cancelled.

Thanks to the efforts of two very patient United Agents, the five of us were succesfully re-booked and re-routed.  No longer would we be flying through both Montreal and Zurich, now we were to bravely depart to Amsterdam.  This had the immediate positive effect of reducing the number of layovers we would have to 1.  It also meant that we got to hang out in the Newark Airport for 5 hours.  On the whole this was no enourmous loss; the extra airport time allowed us time to share one final American meal at an airport diner, and to engage some acts of self-care.

Kenya YAVs in Schipol.

We have now arrived in Amsterdam and are awaiting our next and final flight which will take us the rest of the way to Nairobi and will only arrive 2 hours later than expected.  On the whole, I think it's a fair trade.

Orientation

Yesterday I said many goodbyes.

Today I was blessed by my home church.

In about 12 hours I will board the first of the six flights which will eventually deposit me in Nairobi, and will head to Stony Point for a week of orientation prior to my arrival in Nairobi on the 28th.

Slowly this is becoming real.  This summer has presented incredible opportunities for me to avoid thinking about going.  I spent three weeks travelling the Mid-East in May. In June I watched my youngest nephew graduate from pre-school, and visited friends in three states.  July sent me to Texas for a wedding, and this month I spent a week at the beach with my family, visited both my grandmothers, and went to an amazing concert.

I have also had meetings with various people at Union and the Presbytery in preparation for my departure, but those were small events in comparison to all the things I have had to distract me.

This is something I have felt called to do for longer than I can remember, and something that I have been concretely working toward and planning for since 2008. My first attempt was redirected to Northern Ireland, and that was a powerful training ground and opportunity to grow a bit more.  Northern Ireland is where I finally acceded to God's call for me to attend seminary, and my experiences there opened many doors to me.

I fully expect that working in Nairobi will challenge and change me, and that I will ultimately be stronger for it.  Stronger because I will be rebuilt of stronger substance.

I am simultaneously desperately seeking one last distraction, and giddy about the upcoming journey.  Frightened of losing what I leave behind and giddy about what I may gain.

Time to finish packing.

Photo taken at John Calvin Presbyterian Church
in San Antonio Texas

Thanks so much!

Great thanks to everyone who has contributed so far.  As of July 17th, I have not only blown past the initial $2,500 deadline, but have completed my fundraising requirement entirely.  This is great news, and takes a great deal of concern off my back.  If any of you reading this are still interested in giving, please know that any donations beyond my goal will stay in the YAV program.  The $8,000 is only a small part of the total cost of supporting a YAV.

In only somewhat related YAV news, I recently returned from the wedding of on of the other YAVs from my year in Northern Ireland.  It was a great chance to get to see most of that group again, and although we were missing 3 of our 9, an unexpected layover (read: getting stuck) in Atlanta on the way home meant that I got to visit with one of those 3, and I see the other two regularly.  The picture to the left features 5 of the 6 Belfast YAVs, including the groom in the chest plate next to his new wife.

Yeah, we had fun with the photo booth.

Announcement

I just found out that I will be serving as a Communication Officer for Church World Service in Nairobi.  You can follow the link for details, but in short, they run several programs, including ones focusing on access to water/sanitation, education, food security and women's empowerment.  My job will largely entail writing about these programs for the organization's website and other media.

Today, May 5th 2012, is my grandfather's 93rd birthday.  Or would have been.  I'm honestly not sure which tense to use.  He died a few weeks ago, on April 23rd.  It was sudden, but peaceful and merciful.  The Petersburg paper ran a lovely news article. The funeral was last Friday, the 27th, and there was a memorial at his retirement community Saturday the 28th for those who could not come Friday.  My cousin Jay spoke on behalf of my cousins at the funeral, and I spoke Saturday.  Below is the draft text of what I said.  

It has been said that good writers borrow from other writers, while great writers steal outright. My oldest cousin, Jay, spoke yesterday, and while I will not steal everything he said, I do wish to share one piece from his remarks.   

A few days ago, Jay asked each of the grandchildren to send him one word to describe our grandfather.   Those words were: love, sweet, wise, faith, distinguished, teacher and model.  While all of these words are apt descriptions of the man, they are, of course, incomplete descriptions of our feelings.  While I understand and agree with each of the words used, I want to take this time to violate Jay’s directive to limit ourselves to one word and speak some to my choice.

          A few years ago, I realized that like my grandfather, I was called to enter the ministry.  I began by spending a year working in Northern Ireland, and while there, applied to several seminaries, including his own Union, just up the road in Richmond.  Because I was abroad at the time, I did not do any traditional campus visits, but ultimately decided to come here, to what is now Union Presbyterian Seminary.  In August of 2010, my father and I came here to pick granddad up to go walk around campus.  The seminary had been informed of our visit, and was kind enough to arrange a current student to meet us and show us around.  Much of the campus had changed in the 62 year interval since he had graduated, but many elements remained the same, and he and my father remembered many places from when granddad was a student and my father a young child, including even the pew where they often sat during chapel services.  I am incredibly grateful that my first introduction to campus occurred that day, with him.  Dad, I’m glad you were there too.  

          One question sometimes asked of prospective ministers is who or what their model for ministry is.  My grandfather, who I grew up calling Bubba (which I think may have caused some irritation to others, but never to him) is both the most exceptional and daunting model I could have.  I always knew that he set a high bar.  The stories I have heard over the past few days, featuring his abundance of courage, kindness, humility, and patience have only served to raise that bar further.  I was never under the illusion that I could fully measure to the standard he set, I only hope that his memory will serve to ensure that I always strive emulate his courage, kindness and patience, while also reminding me of the need to remain ever humble.