POLÉ POLÉ

 It is hard to believe that my time in Africa has come to an end. Time has flown by faster than I could have ever imagined. I expected to be counting the days until I could go back home to the US, but instead, I spent the past month dreading the steady march of time and making sure to live every moment spent in Kenya to the fullest. God has grown me in so many ways, and I cannot even begin to understand all the ways that He used me to impact the Kenyans, and the ways that they, in turn, impacted me. I keep wondering, how will I adjust to being back in America? What will I realize I missed, and what will I find to be frustrating? Will I take a little bit of Africa back with me- not in souvenirs, but in my heart?

We had a new missionary family come to Kendu in November. The Kims are both physical therapists and have three adorable daughters, aged two, four, and six. Like the Hong family, they are career missionaries that have come to Kenya to serve there for about five years. It is exciting to see how God is already using them for His glory.

The last few weeks at Kendu were filled with the boys and I busily finishing up projects for the hospital. One focus was the project for the Nyaburi Integrated School for the Disabled. We have many goals on our list, including buying new bed frames (already done!) fixing the ventilation, roofing and flooring in their kitchen, obtaining PT equipment, repairing wheelchairs, painting interior walls, and repairing broken windows. The poor ventilation in the kitchen particularly stood out to me- when the ladies are cooking, the smoke gets so thick that one can barely see to the other side of the small room. The walls are coated with black soot. I could stand in there for only a few seconds before choking on the smoke. If I observe for a few minutes, I can see rats boldly scurry across the floor. In a locked storage room, there are tons of broken wheelchairs waiting to be repaired to aid the disabled children living in the dorms. In the “gymnasium” there is some PT equipment- however, the room is lacking equipment that could be beneficial for the students. In the dorms, the concrete flooring displays large holes that could be a hazard to the disabled residents, and the paint on the walls is chipped and outdated. Many of the windows are non-functioning due to being cracked and broken, providing little protection from rain and bugs seeking entrance inside. The disabled children’s dorms and campus, an extension to the Nyaburi school, is really suffering and in need of support. They almost closed down recently- this would mean that the kids would have to go back home- if they have a home- and their care and education could cease. But despite all of these limiting factors, the children there are so happy. Whenever we come on to campus, the kids greet us happily and follow us around. When we come to sing for vespers on Friday evening, they sing joyously, with genuine love for the Lord, which tugs at my heartstrings every time. The SM boys are working on promotional materials as well as a way to donate toward this project for those precious children at Nyaburi Integrated School and Dorms.

Other projects that I worked on had to do with finishing taking record of all surgeries done since 2018, rewriting job descriptions, recording lab test quantities and patient census numbers, reorganizing the central supply store (we found medical supplies back there that expired in the 90s!) and organizing hundreds of glasses found in storage on campus. The goal is to start up an eye glasses clinic- I hope to return to Kendu Bay next summer and assist with that.

As the weeks of November passed, I felt that time seemed to mercifully slow down to a steady march, as if it knew I wanted to stay in Kenya for as long as possible. While being in Africa, I have found that rushing is a surefire way to miss out on really important lessons and experiences. Taking every day steadily will allow you to be present discover the day’s full potential, so this is what I focused on. I made more memories with my friends from the school of medical sciences- going to their houses, cooking with them (I think I ate more chapati than I made!) singing with them, laughing and talking, taking pictures, and running around like a middle schooler again. I spent time talking to people all over the hospital’s campus, actually- from patients to doctors, Ruby Kraft students to village women. Because of this, I can confidently say that I got the true Kenyan experience. I wasn’t a tourist- in fact when I see tourists near Kendu Bay, it bothers me; I feel like they’re intruding on my second home. And I am so glad that I was able to immerse myself in what Kenya is really like. 

Several weeks ago, the Kim family had me take photos of their family with my professional camera. I obliged, and thought that they turned out nicely. The following day, I was spending time with Nina, one of my close friends from the School of Medical Sciences, when I get a text from Dr. Kim, asking me to come to their house, for they needed me to share the pictures with them that night. I didn’t think anything of it, and took my time getting to their house. I receive another text, requesting me to hurry over, since they needed to put their girls to bed soon. Strolling to their house, I text my good friend Shannon Bradshaw from back home, suggesting we call and talk later since we hadn’t caught up in a while. When I walk into the Kim’s house, I immediately notice that all the boys, the Hongs, and the Kims are sitting there, watching me walk in the door, cameras pointed at me. I greet them but wonder why in the world they are recording me. Then, I hear a familiar voice greet me, and my mouth- along with my phone and water bottle- drop to the floor. To my utter disbelief, I see Shannon walking across the room towards me. When I tell you that I was in shock, it was to the level that I thought I was going crazy. But it was true! Shannon had flown all the way to Kenya to surprise me during her Thanksgiving break! And I had never suspected a thing. She also brought with her a ton of supplies for David, Gabe and my upcoming trip to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. (Logan’s back issues prevented him from going with us, sadly.) The boys had endured my frustration aimed at them for several weeks because their response was, “It’s on a need-to-know basis,” when I questioned how our supplies were getting here in time. I really had thought there was some questionable way they were getting our clothes, jackets, boots, and snacks to Kenya. Instead, everyone had been in on this wonderful surprise! Needless to say, we had a blast. Our adventures included water fights with expired saline flushes, trying to find the most silly looking glasses from a dust covered box of spectacles, singing and taking pictures with the kids, spending a day in Maternity Ward (where Shannon was able to receive the newborn from a C-section, and have it named after her!), playing card games with the boys, and taking the Boda-Bodas down to the market. That week with Shannon was wonderful, definitely the best surprise ever.

The following week was David, Gabe, and my last week at Kendu Adventist Hospital. Logan decided to stay a second semester, so it wasn’t goodbye yet for him. I spent the week enjoying last moments with friends and the kids, along with buying a few more kitenge (cultural dresses) and getting my hair braided once more. On Sabbath evening, we left. It was a very difficult parting for me- there were many connections made that I knew I would dearly miss- Sister Sarah, my favorite nurse in the hospital, who was like a second mother to me, my friends Nina, Rachel, and Happy, my housemate Diana (my other housemate, Irene, already left,) my favorite neighbor child, Tamara, and more. So many people that were so loving and welcoming to me. They made my time as a student missionary ten times better. Though I shed tears as we drove away, I thanked God for the incredible, unparalleled experience in Africa, and the impact that I made as well as the impact made on me.

We drove through the night to Nairobi, arrived at the Adventist Guesthouse around 2:30, got an hour and 30 mins of sleep, then went to the bus station that would take us to the town of Moshi, Tanzania, next to Mount Kilimanjaro. The two boys and I were exhausted, and it didn’t brighten the situation to discover that the bus seats were soaking wet from the rain, and that were were cockroaches living in them, too! When we reached the border of Kenya and Tanzania, the trouble truly started. The immigration officer found several things wrong with us three- first of all, we weren’t allowed to travel out of Kenya on a visa extension (we had no idea,) second, he accused us of serving in Kenya all these months using the wrong visa (which we still doubt was correct). He told us that even though we were volunteering, we were working, and that a visit/tourist visa was “wrong.” The officer began to use scare tactics to intimidate us. He threatened to take us to court or detain us multiple times, and when we called Dr. Hong to vouch for us, the man yelled at us, claiming that Dr. Hong was a liar and a bad host. He claimed that he would investigate him to see what was going on. The whole experience shook us up quite a bit- we kept trying to explain that we weren’t doing anything wrong, and he kept threatening us. Finally, he agreed to let us through but with a $100 fine- that he obviously pocketed for himself. We were just thanking God that we were able to cross over the border into Tanzania. 

It took several hours to reach Kilimanjaro. Our tour guide met us at the bus station, took us to our motel, and gave us the briefing and gear check. We were to start the big climb on Monday morning! After a good night’s rest, we packed our bags, raring to go. Upon boarding the small bus, we discovered that it took a party of 12, including our two guides, a cook, and porters to get us up the mountain! That made me feel a bit high-maintenance, to my amusement. Soon, the great mountain loomed before us, standing at its glorious height of 19,341 feet (5,895 meters.) We started our hike at 1,500 meters. 

The first day was a long climb through the beautiful rainforest ecological zone. The scenery was similar to what you’d think of when picturing a rainforest, with the moss on the trees, vines stretching above the path, humidity in the air, and the occasional call of animals. My hips became sore from carrying my day pack, but thankfully, the pain didn’t last. The way everyone is instructed to climb the mountain is “polé polé” which is Swahili for slowly. Our steps are measured and slow in order to save our energy and acclimate properly as we ascend the steep mountain. At the end of the first day, we reached the moorland ecological zone, and pitched at the first site, called Machame Camp. Our porters were remarkable, carrying 40-something pounds of supplies balanced on their head, along with a large pack on their backs. They even climb faster than us! The food that was prepared by the cook was absolutely incredible, much to our delight, and they had our tents set up and hot tea prepared each time we would arrive to the next campsite. We had it made. The only thing for us to get accustomed to was the using squat-style toilets, very common in Africa. It wasn’t a problem, but they were really nasty most of the time!

Day two consisted of climbing through the moorland zone. It was drier, with more moss-covered rocks, long grasses, and shorter trees and shrubs. The scene often gave way to spectacular views of the mountains surrounding us. The hike was not bad, and I felt comfortable the whole time. We pitched our tents at Shira Cave Camp, with a beautiful view of the mountain range below and Kilimanjaro’s peak above us. That night, it froze and so did I, and I got very little sleep, to my dismay.

Day three took us higher into the alpine desert zone. This zone is full of rocks with dry moss, dirt, and fog. The scene looks like it belongs to a movie about Mars! It’s somewhat of a wasteland, though it was spectacular in its own way. We climbed high to Lava Tower, then descended back into the moorland zone to sleep that night, which is an important step in acclimatization. Though Gabe and I only felt a little out of breath from the elevation, David unfortunately got a headache from it. Baranco Camp was seated at the bottom of the formidable Baranco Wall and at the edge of a cliff that gazed on the city at the base of the mountain. Behind us, Kilimanjaro loomed closer, tall, silent, and snowy. I put foot warmers and a bottle full of hot water in my sleeping back to stay warm, and that made a world of a difference!

On day four, we scaled Baranco Wall, reached Karanga Camp for lunch, then slowly continued on through the alpine desert once again to reach the base camp, Barafu. The top of Kilimanjaro was deceptively close to us. Tonight was the big night- summit night. So far, Gabe, David and I agreed that the climb hadn’t been that bad. We would climb slowly, regulate our breathing, and have plenty of time to reach our destination. However, we knew that people have claimed that summit night is the most difficult thing they have ever done. I kind of scoffed at the idea- we had climbed this far and were fine, surely it wouldn’t be that bad… 

We went to bed early and awoke at 11:30. I don’t think I really fell asleep! It had snowed outside of my tent, but I was ready. I wore two shirts, three jackets, two pairs of leggings and a pair of warm hiking pants, a balaclava, a hat, two pairs of socks, a thin and a thick pair of gloves, my boots, and an extra puffy jacket in my bag! When I went to the bathroom, I tucked my mitten underneath my arm, and somehow, I must have let go of it, for I heard a soft thud and realized, which mixed humor and horror, that I had dropped my glove down into the porta potty! In fact, I could see it sitting there, surrounded by a lovely pile of excrement. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I left without using the toilet and told everyone of my woes, got a good laugh out of it, and was able to borrow gloves from a kind porter. 

At 12:15, we were off. Our two trustworthy guides and an extra porter came with us as we slowly trudged through the blowing wind and the snow. The views at night were spectacular, for the moon shone so brightly that we turned off our headlamps and continued our silent procession up the mountain. We could see the glittering city down below, the surrounding snow-capped mountains, and the giant climb looming above us. But it was hard to enjoy for long. The ascent was steep, and the air became thinner and thinner, so much that with every step, we had to focus on breathing deeply, carefully placing our feet down, one step at a time. It was exhausting, and as the night wore on, our mental state even began to decline! Poor David began experiencing symptoms of altitude sickness, and had a pounding headache and was sick to his stomach all the way up the mountain. That made it seem more serious and real. Kilimanjaro is no joke. It’s not for the faint of heart. 

As we finally grew closer to the top, we all were stumbling, off balance, and very tired. I just wanted to go to sleep, though I knew I couldn’t. I kept telling myself that I had to make it to the top- I made it this far, and I could certainly finish this climb. It was actually both a mental and physical battle- I changed my mind about it not being difficult. 

Stella Point was our first destination at the top of Kilimanjaro. It was incredible. Spectacular. I had never seen anything like it. We reached Stella point as the sun rose at 5:45 AM, dying inside but glad to make it there. We were surrounded by the volcanic crater, sloping hills, and amazing views of the world down below. I wish I could have appreciated it more, but I was absolutely drained. I don’t think I had enough calories when I climbed through the night. Our guides urged us on farther along the rim of the mountain towards the summit, Uhuru “freedom.” We were at battery level zero. The boys would trudge several feet, then sit down and rest. I had to grab on to our guide and shuffle along next to him to keep from falling over from lack of sleep and sheer exhaustion! I felt like the ultimate weakling! After a miserable climb, we all made it to the summit. It was gorgeous, and we took pictures with the sign that congratulated us for reaching the summit of the tallest mountain in Africa, and the tallest freestanding mountain in the world, 19,321 feet tall! We nearly froze up there, so we soon began our descent down the mountain, practically sliding down on the loose dirt and snow. When we finally reached the base, we all collapsed, exhausted. But we celebrated, because we did it! We summited Kilimanjaro! After lunch and a rest, we descended several thousand feet to stay in Mweka Camp that night. Wow did we sleep well! 

On day six, we descended the rest of the way through the rainforest once again to the base of the mountain. We were heartily congratulated and given official certificates that announced our successful summit of Mount Kilimanjaro! It was our steady “polé polé” pace, along with the watchful care of God, that got us to the top. There’s no need to rush through life. We miss so much when we do- and who knows what kind of blessing we deny ourselves by rushing. So instead, let’s focus more on the little things,  take it polé polé by living in the moment and trusting that God’s plan is the best. Though I find it hard to be going back home to America, I am so glad that I trusted God’s plan when He called me to Africa- and who can tell what He has in store for me next!