I have a feeling we aren’t in Kansas anymore!

We woke at various times this morning to various experiences of hunger and jetlag. Most of us slept for some of the night. Our current rooms open to or face the hotel’s pool and outdoor restaurant; from there we watched as Kenyan women and men gathered for a prayer breakfast entitled “God Bless Kenya!” Our own breakfast far surpassed my normal fare of oatmeal or peanut butter bread. Fresh African fruit, eggs any and every way you like them, a variety of lovely pastries, juices and coffees were served up by people who are beyond hospitable. At every point in this hotel someone smiles and says, “Caribou!” or “Jambo," meaning “welcome” and “hello” in Kiswahili.

I was wondering this morning why I’ve had to sidestep people so many times on the hotel stairs as we traverse to and from our rooms. It didn’t take too long to realize that I have to adjust from a right-handed orientation to a left. Kenya was formerly a British colony; drivers keep to the left side of the road and I guess that means they keep left in other situations. So it’s probably wise that I don’t drive while we’re here. Thankfully we have a very good driver whose name is John. We kept him busy today.

We visited Elephant Orphanage in Nairobi which takes baby orphan elephants from all over Kenya until they are old enough to survive on their own. These elephant calves act like toddlers, tumbling all over and piling on top of each other, throwing loose dirt on themselves and each other, and following their keepers around as if they were their mothers—especially interesting as all the keepers are men. Warthogs graze nearby as the calves amuse themselves. I realize I had never really ever taken a good look at one, Pumbaa not included! They are beyond ugly, but for some reason I love them—maybe because they spend half their time on their knees, or maybe because their spindly tails stand straight up in the air when they run, or maybe because they have a face only a mother could love. Cyndi noticed a loose warthog trotting nearby when the show was over and insisted that I get near enough to have my picture taken with him (her? Can’t tell). While we were working on that, an African man warned me that warthogs are known to suddenly charge and can break a person’s leg. Kind of took the fun out of it.

Near Karen Blizen’s House (Out of Africa) is the Giraffe Center, a wildlife conservation caring for formerly endangered Rothschild giraffes and a few warthogs. Each of us was given pellets to feed one of the larger giraffes from the porch of a two-story structure. The giraffe was happy to eat out of our hands, but Nancy and Cyndi did one better; each held a pellet between their lips and let the giraffe take it from there. You may or may not know that giraffes have very long, wet, slimy, sandy tongues. Nancy and Cyndi are aware of this now.

The last stop was the Kazuri Bead Factory—also near the Karen Blizen estate. Since 1975 widows and mothers with no means of support have been employed to make beads and pottery, the products of which are found all over the world. We took a tour of the factory and found the workplace to be so creative, friendly and deeply communal.

You’d think that all the above was enough for one day—but late in the afternoon we met with John Njane, the young man who lives in Kijabe and helps widows and orphans with his ministry Thread of Hope. Just before our arrival in Kenya, John’s house burned to the ground and he was left with nothing but the clothes on his back. I’ll have to share more about this tomorrow. John really deserves his own space. We'll be going to his house tomorrow to deliver the clothes and household goods Nancy and Cyndi were able to gather before we left. We’ll also visit Cure International’s Hospital and Christine Kithome, Bethany’s spiritual director.

For tonight, Hakuna Matata and God Bless Kenya!!