Dear Friends and Fam,
Hope all is well with all. We have less than two months to finish our year in Kenya. In less than two weeks we will pick up David's parents from the airport and in a little more than a month we will pick up mine.
This month we went to Uganda, Rwanda, and Tanzania (Zanzibar). Lots of adventures from being thrown from a motorcycle on the way up a mountain to paddling in a dugout canoe to an island in Uganda. This week we are heading back to Ratta.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
School fees in Kenya
School Fees in Kenya: Why we should care.
After three years of teaching I ended up teaching for a year in rural Kenya. My school is one of the poorest of the region and holds about 350 students. Although primary school is officially free in Kenya, secondary school is not. My students, many orphans or children of single parents, are for the most part poor farmers. During fee collection days more than half of the schools is drained. Students are asked to go home and come back the next day with money. Many of them do come back the next day with a few shillings while others never come back. School fees equal about 130,000 KS (about $150) per year. Most people in my community make about 100 KS a day. This makes it almost impossible to send one child, let alone four or five to school and continues a cycle of poverty. At my school, less than half of all the students who finish first in their class can afford to even attend a semester of college. One of my students wrote of his situation heartbreaking well when he said “my problem is I have ambition.”
I am a firm believer that education can be the great equalizer. School fees are a major factor that keeps communities like mine poor. Education beyond form 8 is too expensive for the poor, while the rich are able to pay for the best schools in Kenya or boarding schools around the world. Parents choose between food, medicine, and school fees. Some of my sophomores in high school are twenty years old because it takes years for parents to save up enough money to educate. It is heartbreaking to see my incredibly bright, hardworking, and capable students, who really are desperate to learn (they ask for more quizzes and homework), forced to leave school because they just don’t have money. Even more heartbreaking to think that they will never have a chance to live up to their full potential. “The problem is I have ambition.”
This is the future generation of Kenya: brilliant and innovative and yet many of them won’t have the opportunity to change their country, our world; to be an engineer, a doctor, a teacher, or a politician, a voice for peace and justice. What talents are we wasting?
Why should we care? I first of all think there is a Christian argument here. Jesus calls us to tend to the poor and needy. To speak of those who do not have a voice.
Beyond that, the US throws millions of dollars of aid on countries like Kenya. A lot of this aid disappears down the black hole of corruption. This year has really opened my eyes to corruption and the extent of it has really surprised me. I believe a lot of that aid would not be needed if countries like Haiti (or Kenya) if the whole population could be educated. Imagine a new generation of students in countries all over the world being given the opportunity to learn. I believe this would raise a new generation of thinkers, of problem solvers. Developing countries will become more developed with innovative ideas and dictators will fall with a population in which every man and woman can think for themselves.
Perhaps this is the naïve, ignorant, uninformed ranting of an (still) idealistic teacher who sometimes this year feels she is boarding on going insane. Still, when we look at Jesus’s message of how He wants us to represent ourselves here, we cannot afford to ignore these kids.
Now what is the best way to help? No idea.
School fees in Kenya
School Fees in Kenya: Why we should care.
After three years of teaching I ended up teaching for a year in rural Kenya. My school is one of the poorest of the region and holds about 350 students. Although primary school is officially free in Kenya, secondary school is not. My students, many orphans or children of single parents, are for the most part poor farmers. During fee collection days more than half of the schools is drained. Students are asked to go home and come back the next day with money. Many of them do come back the next day with a few shillings while others never come back. School fees equal about 130,000 KS (about $150) per year. Most people in my community make about 100 KS a day. This makes it almost impossible to send one child, let alone four or five to school and continues a cycle of poverty. At my school, less than half of all the students who finish first in their class can afford to even attend a semester of college. One of my students wrote of his situation heartbreaking well when he said “my problem is I have ambition.”
I am a firm believe that education can be the great equalizer. School fees are a major factor that keeps communities like mine poor. Education beyond form 8 is too expensive for the poor, while the rich are able to pay for the best schools in Kenya or boarding schools around the world. Parents choose between food, medicine, and school fees. Some of my sophomores in high school are twenty years old because it takes years for parents to save up enough money to educate. It is heartbreaking to see my incredibly bright, hardworking, and capable students, who really are desperate to learn (they ask for more quizzes and homework), forced to leave school because they just don’t have money. Even more heartbreaking to think that they will never have a chance to live up to their full potential. “The problem is I have ambition.”
This is the future generation of Kenya: brilliant and innovative and yet many of them won’t have the opportunity to change their country, our world; to be an engineer, a doctor, a teacher, or a politician, a voice for peace and justice. What talents are we wasting?
Why should we care? I first of all think there is a Christian argument here. Jesus calls us to tend to the poor and needy. To speak of those who do not have a voice.
Beyond that, the US throws millions of dollars of aid on countries like Kenya. A lot of this aid disappears down the black hole of corruption. This year has really opened my eyes to corruption and the extent of it has really surprised me. I believe a lot of that aid would not be needed if countries like Haiti (or Kenya) if the whole population could be educated. Imagine a new generation of students in countries all over the world being given the opportunity to learn. I believe this would raise a new generation of thinkers, of problem solvers. Developing countries will become more developed with innovative ideas and dictators will fall with a population in which every man and woman can think for themselves.
Perhaps this is the naïve, ignorant, uninformed ranting of an (still) idealistic teacher who sometimes this year feels she is boarding on going insane. Still, when we look at Jesus’s message of how He wants us to represent ourselves here, we cannot afford to ignore these kids.
Now what is the best way to help? No idea.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
What have we been doing?
I know that Amy and I have a habit of writing about emotions and reflections, and rarely actually tell you what is going on, what we are doing, or even where we are. I think for us these seem less important because we know what we are doing. We know where we are. I think we use these blogs to help us understand and reflect on what has happened. This can be frustrating to the reader. You may know we have had a good day, or a bad day, but that may not tell you much. So here it goes, my attempt at what our Lent looked like:
Jan/Feb/March is a dry season in East Africa, and our water supply in Ratta depends on the rains. We were never without water (someone brings barrels of water to the compound) but we had to be economic with our supply. This meant reusing our laundry water to flush the toilet, minimizing amount and length of showers, and getting creative when doing the dishes. I have never prayed for rain more. I have never appreciated water more. And I hope it is enough not to take it for granted again.
March began with a long weekend from school. Amy and I took advantage by crossing the border into Jinja, Uganda, where we went bungee jumping and whitewater rafting on the Nile river. One of the most fun days of my life. There were times between rapids when we were able to just float in the Nile, alongside our raft. The river had a very cleansing affect on both our body and soul.
After the Jinja, Amy and I had a great week. We were revitalized, we finally had a full class load (3 English classes, 1 Math, a computer class in the evenings, and I taught PE to the whole school. , and we got great news about our future plans. That week we decided to move back (for me) to Louisville, KY where I will attend LPTS. It was an exciting decision, and helped keep us going.
There is not much to say about the rest of March. Quite honestly, it was a little boring. We taught during the day, we read or watched a movie at night, and we went grocery shopping in Luoanda or Kisumu on the weekends. We would be called mzungu about 100 times a day, and asked "How are you?" another 100. The only acceptable response being: "I am fine." Which is still not enough to warrant children to stop shouting the question at us. Amy stayed regular with running, I did not. We played a lot of games, we read a lot of books, we watched a lot of movies, and we wrote a lot in our journal. I found a good tree on our compound to climb, and sit, and think. Amy found sanity in planning trips for our parents and looking up apartments on craigslist. Our students enjoyed lessons in the computer lab, Amy's poetry unit featuring K'naan and Bob Marley, and the chance to get outside and run around in PE.
At the end of March we spent a weekend in Kisumu to celebrate Amy's birthday. We stayed at a hotel with a hot shower, a cold pool, and air conditioning. We had dinner at ex-pat restaurants. It was a nice break from Ratta.
But even with that reprieve, we started to go a little bit crazy. We had been in Ratta for 3 months straight (minus a visit from Aunt LeeAnn, and our 3 day Nile trip). And we needed a break from Kenyan country life. We were done. We were/are exhausted. We had nothing left in our tank, but we needed to stay through exams. So we did. We cried a few times, we yelled a fews times, we curled up in a ball and went catatonic a few times. Our last night in Ratta was the most dramatic/emotional. I was marking a Math exam while Amy marked an English one that included a journal entry section. Amy read traumatic experience after traumatic experience, and it put us over the edge. That night I felt crushed by over-whelming worries, Amy cried over the situation of some of our students, we fought about who knows what, we stood in the cold rain, the power went out and we held each other crying in the dark. But we made it through. The sun came up, and it was a new day. We finished out exams, turned in our grades, and got on a night bus to Nairobi.
Since then we have been staying with Amelia, and had Easter dinner with Phyllis and family. It has been nice to have other people to talk to. It has been nice to have restaurants and grocery stores within walking distance, it has been nice to go to a B-movie, it has been nice to talk a hot shower, it has been nice to go for a run without everyone staring, and it has been nice to walk down the street without our usual theme song: "Mzungu How are you?"
We have until May off of school, and our planning a trip around the National Parks of Southwestern Uganda, and to the city of Kigali in Rwanda. Our goal for April is to enjoy our time here, and make sure to leave East Africa with some great memories.
So Happy Easter. I hope this was a more informative blog than usual. Thank you to everyone who reads these, and is keeping us in their thoughts and prayers. It means a lot just knowing someone anyone cares that we are here.
Jan/Feb/March is a dry season in East Africa, and our water supply in Ratta depends on the rains. We were never without water (someone brings barrels of water to the compound) but we had to be economic with our supply. This meant reusing our laundry water to flush the toilet, minimizing amount and length of showers, and getting creative when doing the dishes. I have never prayed for rain more. I have never appreciated water more. And I hope it is enough not to take it for granted again.
March began with a long weekend from school. Amy and I took advantage by crossing the border into Jinja, Uganda, where we went bungee jumping and whitewater rafting on the Nile river. One of the most fun days of my life. There were times between rapids when we were able to just float in the Nile, alongside our raft. The river had a very cleansing affect on both our body and soul.
After the Jinja, Amy and I had a great week. We were revitalized, we finally had a full class load (3 English classes, 1 Math, a computer class in the evenings, and I taught PE to the whole school. , and we got great news about our future plans. That week we decided to move back (for me) to Louisville, KY where I will attend LPTS. It was an exciting decision, and helped keep us going.
There is not much to say about the rest of March. Quite honestly, it was a little boring. We taught during the day, we read or watched a movie at night, and we went grocery shopping in Luoanda or Kisumu on the weekends. We would be called mzungu about 100 times a day, and asked "How are you?" another 100. The only acceptable response being: "I am fine." Which is still not enough to warrant children to stop shouting the question at us. Amy stayed regular with running, I did not. We played a lot of games, we read a lot of books, we watched a lot of movies, and we wrote a lot in our journal. I found a good tree on our compound to climb, and sit, and think. Amy found sanity in planning trips for our parents and looking up apartments on craigslist. Our students enjoyed lessons in the computer lab, Amy's poetry unit featuring K'naan and Bob Marley, and the chance to get outside and run around in PE.
At the end of March we spent a weekend in Kisumu to celebrate Amy's birthday. We stayed at a hotel with a hot shower, a cold pool, and air conditioning. We had dinner at ex-pat restaurants. It was a nice break from Ratta.
But even with that reprieve, we started to go a little bit crazy. We had been in Ratta for 3 months straight (minus a visit from Aunt LeeAnn, and our 3 day Nile trip). And we needed a break from Kenyan country life. We were done. We were/are exhausted. We had nothing left in our tank, but we needed to stay through exams. So we did. We cried a few times, we yelled a fews times, we curled up in a ball and went catatonic a few times. Our last night in Ratta was the most dramatic/emotional. I was marking a Math exam while Amy marked an English one that included a journal entry section. Amy read traumatic experience after traumatic experience, and it put us over the edge. That night I felt crushed by over-whelming worries, Amy cried over the situation of some of our students, we fought about who knows what, we stood in the cold rain, the power went out and we held each other crying in the dark. But we made it through. The sun came up, and it was a new day. We finished out exams, turned in our grades, and got on a night bus to Nairobi.
Since then we have been staying with Amelia, and had Easter dinner with Phyllis and family. It has been nice to have other people to talk to. It has been nice to have restaurants and grocery stores within walking distance, it has been nice to go to a B-movie, it has been nice to talk a hot shower, it has been nice to go for a run without everyone staring, and it has been nice to walk down the street without our usual theme song: "Mzungu How are you?"
We have until May off of school, and our planning a trip around the National Parks of Southwestern Uganda, and to the city of Kigali in Rwanda. Our goal for April is to enjoy our time here, and make sure to leave East Africa with some great memories.
So Happy Easter. I hope this was a more informative blog than usual. Thank you to everyone who reads these, and is keeping us in their thoughts and prayers. It means a lot just knowing someone anyone cares that we are here.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
“The problem is that I have ambition.”
This is a quote from one of my students. He is one of the brightest students I have ever taught. His English is excellent, his work ethnic impeccable, his attitude eager, his potential unlimited. His dream is to be able to finish high school, go onto University and become an engineer. You might wonder why it is a problem that he has ambition. It is a problem because the chances of him getting his dream are very slim. Like so many of my students, he is very poor, the son of a poor farmer. Today he, and more than half of my class were dismissed for lack of school fees. School fees are about $150 per year per student. This is sometimes impossible for a population that makes an average of a little less than a dollar a day. Is it fair that students who desperately want to learn are denied this basic right because they cannot pay? Because they are from a poor family? “The problem is that I have ambition.” My heart aches for the students like him who want more although their future is most likely staying in their town and doing whatever keeps bread on the table.
This begs the question- what is my stake in this child? What is my duty as a Christian? I am not sure how to answer these questions. I do believe we are connected as children of God. That these students are my brothers and sisters in Christ and their fate does matter.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Surrender
This God- His way is perfect; the promise of the Lord proves true. He is a shield for all who take refuge in Him (Psalms 18)
I am in that 1% of the world's population. I grew up with clean water, plenty of food, a lovely house, excellent education, and a loving family. When I would read the Bible and come across verse like the one above I will skim past. Refuge? Sure I had my heartaches and a few problems but nothing I couldn't talk out with family and friends, nothing that consumed my life. I was worried about a student, I had finals coming up, my dog Strider died.
At first I was angry looking back at my decision to come to Kenya- that I felt God was leading me there. I was angry that I had been broken- that I experienced what I did and saw what I saw. I remember within the first month of our time David saying "I don't want to see anymore" after a fire ripped apart an informal settlement in Nairobi killing men, women, and children. I don't want to see God- why are showing me these things???
Today I read this verse with new eyes
This God- His way is perfect; the promise of the Lord proves true. He is a shield for all who take refuge in Him
This God- His was is perfect. I know God did not want me to have to experience what I did or see what I have seen. He loves his children and hates when evil happens to them. He does not want his creation to be homeless, hungry, used, and unhappy. But He will use these experiences to make me a more understanding teacher, patient wife, sister, daughter, and a more compassionate human. As my dad says- this is a refining year for me. Gold must be refined before is shows its true potential.
The promise of the Lord proves true. Yes, this year has broken me but this reminds me that I can rely on God's promises. I can ask for His protection, companionship, guidance, wisdom, love, and patience. I have never had to rely like this before and it can be painful to learn how selfish and fickle I still am. How I try everything by myself only to fall on my face. How I need to learn to crawl to God for comfort, forgiveness, and help.
He is a shield for all those who take refuge in Him. This got me thinking- what if God brought me to Kenya not to break me but to show me what it is like to take refuge in Him? The joy and peace that comes with handing over the impossible to God- daily. To finally need God in a way which I cannot ignore and therefore allow myself to trust and grow in a way which I could not surrounded by my family and friends. Maybe Rick Warren was right when he wrote that the heart of worship is surrender.
I am in that 1% of the world's population. I grew up with clean water, plenty of food, a lovely house, excellent education, and a loving family. When I would read the Bible and come across verse like the one above I will skim past. Refuge? Sure I had my heartaches and a few problems but nothing I couldn't talk out with family and friends, nothing that consumed my life. I was worried about a student, I had finals coming up, my dog Strider died.
At first I was angry looking back at my decision to come to Kenya- that I felt God was leading me there. I was angry that I had been broken- that I experienced what I did and saw what I saw. I remember within the first month of our time David saying "I don't want to see anymore" after a fire ripped apart an informal settlement in Nairobi killing men, women, and children. I don't want to see God- why are showing me these things???
Today I read this verse with new eyes
This God- His way is perfect; the promise of the Lord proves true. He is a shield for all who take refuge in Him
This God- His was is perfect. I know God did not want me to have to experience what I did or see what I have seen. He loves his children and hates when evil happens to them. He does not want his creation to be homeless, hungry, used, and unhappy. But He will use these experiences to make me a more understanding teacher, patient wife, sister, daughter, and a more compassionate human. As my dad says- this is a refining year for me. Gold must be refined before is shows its true potential.
The promise of the Lord proves true. Yes, this year has broken me but this reminds me that I can rely on God's promises. I can ask for His protection, companionship, guidance, wisdom, love, and patience. I have never had to rely like this before and it can be painful to learn how selfish and fickle I still am. How I try everything by myself only to fall on my face. How I need to learn to crawl to God for comfort, forgiveness, and help.
He is a shield for all those who take refuge in Him. This got me thinking- what if God brought me to Kenya not to break me but to show me what it is like to take refuge in Him? The joy and peace that comes with handing over the impossible to God- daily. To finally need God in a way which I cannot ignore and therefore allow myself to trust and grow in a way which I could not surrounded by my family and friends. Maybe Rick Warren was right when he wrote that the heart of worship is surrender.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Ash Wednesday
Ash Wednesday Blog
Today is the first day of Lent, and since I have not written a blog for a while, its seems a good time to restart. The last few years Amy and I have given up something we wanted to know we could live without (meat, ice cream, cheese, etc.) This year we chose something harder. This year we are giving up living in America.
Some may laugh since we are already giving that up, but this is very serious for us. The last few months have been an intense roller coaster of ups and downs; solace and despair; love and hate; welcomed and bullied.
We are getting used to some things, but every day usually involves a happy high, and a depressed low. Rarely a day passes when neither of think about going home home, back to mommy's arms, and daddy's protection. Rarely a day goes by that does not trigger some recent psychological or emotional scarring.
What keeps us going are the things to look forward to. Aunt Lee Ann's trip in February gave us a chance to rest, relax, reflect, and leave East Africa (without actually leaving East Africa). Next week, during a short term break, we are planning on venturing to Jinja, Uganda and the source of the Nile for some adrenaline-pumping white-water rafting. April (beginning with Easter) will bring a long break between terms, which should include Nairobi (where it is easier for a mzungu to go unnoticed), a YAV retreat (possible to the island of Zanzibar), and other East African adventures. May will bring Mom and Dad Wigger, and June brings the Benish/Wadsworth clan. March (and very appropriately Lent) leaves us with our last, long, challenging period. Our last stretch with little or nothing to look forward to. (We may try to do something/go somewhere for Amy's B-day, March 23, but it won't be far or long.
So for Lent this year, we are giving up living in America, living in familiarity; we are giving up fitting in, being in control, and not being different. This Lent we will push through, hopefully, our toughest month left, and come out stronger on the other side.
During Lent, I always desire to eat meat, crave a piece of chocolate, or sneak a little ice cream when Amy isn't looking. This Lent I will want to go home, will crave a hug from family, and will sneak back to Western society through movies, books, and maybe a night in Kisumu.
But I always come out of Lent stronger. I always leave a better person. I always am proud I made it. And I always come out more faithful. This Lent I am giving up living in America, and hopefully it will help me live in the promise land (or at least catch some glimpses of it.)
Guide my feet...
while I run this race.
Guide my feet...
while I run this race.
Guide my feet...
while I run this race.
For I don't want to run this race in vain.
race in vain.
Today is the first day of Lent, and since I have not written a blog for a while, its seems a good time to restart. The last few years Amy and I have given up something we wanted to know we could live without (meat, ice cream, cheese, etc.) This year we chose something harder. This year we are giving up living in America.
Some may laugh since we are already giving that up, but this is very serious for us. The last few months have been an intense roller coaster of ups and downs; solace and despair; love and hate; welcomed and bullied.
We are getting used to some things, but every day usually involves a happy high, and a depressed low. Rarely a day passes when neither of think about going home home, back to mommy's arms, and daddy's protection. Rarely a day goes by that does not trigger some recent psychological or emotional scarring.
What keeps us going are the things to look forward to. Aunt Lee Ann's trip in February gave us a chance to rest, relax, reflect, and leave East Africa (without actually leaving East Africa). Next week, during a short term break, we are planning on venturing to Jinja, Uganda and the source of the Nile for some adrenaline-pumping white-water rafting. April (beginning with Easter) will bring a long break between terms, which should include Nairobi (where it is easier for a mzungu to go unnoticed), a YAV retreat (possible to the island of Zanzibar), and other East African adventures. May will bring Mom and Dad Wigger, and June brings the Benish/Wadsworth clan. March (and very appropriately Lent) leaves us with our last, long, challenging period. Our last stretch with little or nothing to look forward to. (We may try to do something/go somewhere for Amy's B-day, March 23, but it won't be far or long.
So for Lent this year, we are giving up living in America, living in familiarity; we are giving up fitting in, being in control, and not being different. This Lent we will push through, hopefully, our toughest month left, and come out stronger on the other side.
During Lent, I always desire to eat meat, crave a piece of chocolate, or sneak a little ice cream when Amy isn't looking. This Lent I will want to go home, will crave a hug from family, and will sneak back to Western society through movies, books, and maybe a night in Kisumu.
But I always come out of Lent stronger. I always leave a better person. I always am proud I made it. And I always come out more faithful. This Lent I am giving up living in America, and hopefully it will help me live in the promise land (or at least catch some glimpses of it.)
Guide my feet...
while I run this race.
Guide my feet...
while I run this race.
Guide my feet...
while I run this race.
For I don't want to run this race in vain.
race in vain.
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