Arriving in Kenya has been a wonderfully African experience. The airport in Nairobi was devastated by an electrical fire last week and we weren't sure what we were going to be arriving to. Walking down stairs from the plane I looked directly into the jet bridge that would have been our exit if the airport was open. Instead we were shuttled to giant white tents as the makeshift arrival hall and immigration, set up as if an elaborate wedding ceremony was about to happen. Baggage was dumped by tractors in what I'm pretty sure was part of the runway. We sifted through piles of luggage by dim lit cell phones with hundreds of other confused passengers who were experiencing Africa for the first time. TIA. It was perfect.
Waking up here is my favorite past time. I know I'm going to have a day filled with purpose and live my passion in each moment. If only Phil was here to share with me. Today we are off to visit a friend, Bishop Amos, who helped us establish our first well in Dago in 2010. He and his wife Noel have a heart for orphans and have adopted two precious children, a rarity in the Kenyan culture. They are crucial in orchestrating and mobilizing the local church in caring for street kids (also not culturally accepted...yet). Tomorrow we will head for Kitale, where we will spend some time checking up on the wells and then visiting Mattaw. I'm sure I will be posting a ton on Instagram (@dalhamer is my username). Thank you for your prayers and for your encouragement!
Ever hopeful, Dalene
(The jet bridge above the stairs as we stepped foot in Nairobi)
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