28 August 2013
Today, Wednesday, we were privileged to journey with Simon, Lucy, Silas, Rahab and their teams an hour further north to where the paved roads of Kenya finally finish and any travel – especially in the rainy season – becomes a real adventure.
We were off to a marginalised village of Turkana and Sanburu people living in those wood and mud round houses surrounded by thick thorn fences – the very archetypal African scene to westerners brought up on a diet of public service broadcaster documentaries and National Geographic magazines.
We had been forewarned of the challenges that would face us but, as ever, the full sensory experience still came as a shock.
27th August 2013
Ruth and I breakfasted in early morning sun with the sound of Thomson’s Falls in the background, baboons searched for food in the lawn outside, and a walk back to our rooms through blooming flowers. It was idyllic.
However, even though most of the guests were holidaying Kenyans, it was difficult not to feel awkward at the comfort we were living in, and difficult not to feel isolated from the real world that lay outside the gates. And certainly, as we passed through the guarded gate on our way to Nyahururu the manicured lawn was replaced by dusty packed earth, the smooth drive for potholed road, and the colonial lodge for wooden shacks.
Today Silas and I were scheduled to train pastors gathered in a Nyahururu church from the 33 churches overseen by Simon in this part of Kenya and from other churches in the region. But just getting to the church was an adventure as our van inched through the crowded marketplace of rough built stalls to a three story building that stood proud in the centre. The church was literally an “upper room” with a pub below and shops on the ground floor.