An "Up Country" Christmas

December 25, 2011. A one-of-a-kind day. Definitely the most unique Christmas in the history of my life. In Kenya, when someone says they're going "up country" it means they are going somewhere outside the city, most likely to a rural area where their family is from. I had the great opportunity to join my friend, Judy Wanjiru up country to visit her family in Nyeri for the holiday.

With two backpacks full of gifts, we hopped on a matatu for the 2 hour ride to Karatina. There, we stopped at the supermarket to pick up food gifts for the family. Karatina is bustling town, but very underdeveloped. I hate to use labels but I was honestly surprised to see many "middle class looking" people doing business around town and in that moment, I realized that my idea of socio-economic class is skewed by my U.S. frame of reference. What may seem "poor" by American standards is actually very middle class in Africa. (More processing to be done on this concept for sure). From Karatina, we took another ride in the back of a packed matatu, our laps full of bags and luggage up to our chins. The vehicle dropped us at the start of a dirt road. The area around us was lush and beautiful, the Kenyan Highlands.

Judy and me

Lots of plantations like coffee, tea, bananas and pineapple. So much green everywhere and a river running through it. Just gorgeous. The temperature was nice in the shade but hot in the sun. Probably 80 degrees. For a LONG time we sat under a tree at that dirt road. Soon we were joined by Judy's "cu cu" (pronounced "sho sho" in Kikuyu meaning grandmother) as well as her brother, sister in law and baby niece.

Judy and her "cu cu"

Judy hustled on her cell phone to find someone with a car to carry us down the road a few miles to her home. After about an hour...success! From where we were dropped, we walked down a narrow path under macadamia nut, banana and avocado trees and past sweet potato, coffee and corn crops to her family's property. Their wood slat dwelling in "the bush" was simple: tin roof, packed dirt floor with a sitting room, two small bedrooms and a kitchen separate from the house. Outside, chickens ran around with the dogs and little kitty. Cows were nearby, mooing. We greeted Judy's family including mom, step dad, 4 brothers, 2 grandmas, cousins...a full house!

Judy's grandmothers and parents

As the meal was being prepared, we took a walk to the river. Here I was...in a skirt and ballet flats hiking through brush and trees. I almost wanted to laugh at myself. But never wished for a second that I was wearing trousers on such a special day. At the river (which Judy actually got in), we took a million photos with her brother, Simon as our photographer.

At the river with Simon

When we arrived back home, food was ready and oh so good: chapati (flat bread), meat stew with potatoes, beans and lentils, nduma (arrowroot, a tuber like sweet potato) and chicken.

After the meal, Judy and I passed out the gifts: clothes for the babies, baseball caps for the brothers, bags for the grandmas, jump ropes and stickers for the kids. Thankfully I had enough for everyone! It was a sweet time of giving. One "cu cu" of Judy gave me a kiondo, a Kikuyu woven basket she hand made. It was a beautiful gift and I know, a labor of love for someone she had never met. In addition, we were gifted a TON of perfect bananas. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming. Even though I spoke a different language and my skin was a different color, they made me feel like family. I was happy. So at peace and truly able to take in the moment. Holiday stress had no part here. Lots of giving and receiving but no commercialism, no excessiveness, no decorations. Just Christmas. This was my ideal December 25th. What I've longed for but didn't know existed. Time was slipping away and after more hustling, Judy found us a ride back to the matatu station. We waited a while for a mat back to Nairboi and as the sun was setting, I was getting nervous. I had been strongly advised not to travel after dark. This wasn't the first time we were on the move at night but this time we were far from the safe compound of the guest house. Thankfully, our matatu driver was cautious and there was no car trouble. When we arrived in downtown Nairobi - with too much heavy luggage including the big box of bananas - I was honestly scared. It was Christmas night and people were out traveling to and from but also populating the bars and just looking for trouble. I sensed the heaviness. I prayed the entire time we walked through the streets of downtown to make our bus transfer to safety. We were very vulnerable with me sticking out like a sore thumb. An easy target. Even through the fear, I felt God's protection surrounding us.

When we arrived at the guest house, we were tired, dirty and sweaty. It was warm and humid - about to rain. We ordered Kenyan tea and ate cold leftovers - tasted so good. I could eat chapati forever. Luckily, we were cleaned up and ready for bed when the power went out. Since it was our last day together, Judy suggested we pray together. I am not a big fan of saying "out-loud" prayers despite it's commonness in the Christian culture. Hearing my own voice has always seems "fake" - like this is not how I talk to God in my head. Yet for some reason as we were snuggled up in one of the beds, I didn't think about it too much and just let go. It was a beautiful moment between us special gal friends. Judy's prayers for me were so thoughtful and special, like God himself was speaking those words to me. I couldn't have imagined a better way to end my final night in Kenya. My friendship with Judy is like a sisterhood. In fact, we were somewhere in public and a man asked her in Swahili if I was her sister. Later she told me what he said and her response was "yes". That meant two things to me: one, that she was wiling to align herself with me, an outsider and acknowledge that even to strangers and two, that she values me as an important part of her life. She put herself out there for me and sacrificed her time, work, money and energy for two weeks. Gratefulness and love cannot sum up how I feel toward Judy.

A gift from Timothy

On that final morning, my friend Timothy came for a last visit to bring me a Masaai dress made by his mother. Such a sacrifice not only by his mum who has never met me, but by Timothy who cared enough to make the delivery so far from home. While we were taking breakfast together, he asked about my trip to Mombasa to see Collins, my sponsored boy. We flipped through photos on my camera and then he shared that he was a sponsored child through Compassion International too until age 21. Even though he never met his sponsor, they made a real difference in his life and he's alive and well to prove it. Wow. Timothy is Collins - all grown up. Educated, working, happy...even giving back to the community himself. He is a success story. Knowing this is a special gift to me. In Kenya, I've had a lot of "God" moments and here it was again. It's as if Timothy was sent to deliever a message to me. One that I frequently doubt about myself: You are important. You are worthy of love. You are of value. I hope we all have the opportunity to get these truths reaffirmed in our lives...whether at home in America or all the way in Africa.