Day 2-3

During Wednesday's ragged evening, we boarded taxis and reached the Transformed International compound. After a brief, fantastic dinner prepared by two members of the staff and an awkward gathering in the main houses' meeting room, we began a short cultural training session.

Things I learned about the way of things in Kenya:
-Raising your eyebrows in an unbelievably creepy way simply means "yes".
-Stroking/scratching someone's palm during a handshake indicates a desire for certain clandestine activities.
-If female, the showing of your knees instantly advertises you as a loose woman.
-If male, the showing of your knees will merit a great deal of awkward staring from the local population.
-"Mizunga" (Mee-Zoon-Gah) means "white person" in Swahili. The term is often passed between locals at the sight of our team and almost always followed by their hearty, suspicion-raising laughter.
-There are multiple crazy people in Kitale, but none of them are confirmed as dangerous.

Suffice it to say, by the end of this session, I did not want to venture outside the compound until the end of our time in Africa.

The following day made up for every ounce of uncertainty I felt.
After waking at seven and attempting to beg my way through a breakfast we were charged with preparing for our individual selves, I managed to scrounge up one leathery fried egg, a piece of bread, and a heaping mug of Kenyan coffee capable of turning your circulation system into a super-highway of euphoric glee.
Our team met for a morning devotional session. Worship was led by Daniel, our Transformed International-employed host and mission leader, aided only by an acoustic guitar and a few sheets of lyrics only he had the happiness of viewing.
The rest of us either sang boldly or winged it.
Still, the experience was heart-altering.
In the tranquility of the morning room, I found a spiritual place often barred by the frustrations of typical life. I was convicted, restored, and uplifted with visions of my new goals. We read several passages of Luke 9, focusing on the importance of dying in Christ so that one might live as a cross-bearing believer, capable of deserting earthly desires and selfish wants for the cause of Christ's love.
During the talking part of the session, laughter and swahili began to filter into the living room from the world outside.
After fifteen minutes of the small distraction, Faith glanced outdoors and announced the arrival of the Neema and Shimo Girls.

The primary focus of the Providence women's mission in Africa is the Shimo and Neema Girls. The former of these is a group of teenage mothers, supported with work, education, and training by Transformed International. The latter group is made up of former child prostitutes, rescued by the foundation and placed in a house where they receive educational benefits identical to those of the Shimo girls.
We would be meeting them, playing some games, and fellowshipping with them as they undertook their newest well-paid work projects.

Throughout the entire stay with these young women, I could not help but be struck by their beauty, a feature evident in both feature and spirit. Within fifteen minutes of semi-awkward acquaintance, we were laughing together. Within twenty, they were speaking and joking with us in fully adequate English.
After a somewhat chaotic game of frisbee, followed by a competitive kickball match and a stretch of time in which we were introduced to their own cultural games, we broke for lunch, prepared by the house mothers and a few members of the Providence team.

After the surprisingly amazing meal of cabbage, potatoes, and rice, the work began. Half the girls left to sew purses, while the others stayed with us to make bead necklaces.
(I discovered later that these women were invited to participate in these work activities with the promise of what is nearly an entire week's wages in Kenyan currency for two hours of work.)
The products would be returned to the United States with us and sold to American consumers for extra funds for the project and employment.

At four-o'clock in the afternoon, we parted ways, busied ourselves for two hours, and then met as a team for a dinner painstakingly prepared without electricity.
I forgot to mention that- Electricity here is anything but a given.
The government will occasionally just shut off the entire country's power for the heck of it (though apparently this particular blackout occurred only in the Mizunga [white people] district.)
The evening lapsed into competitive card games, reading, and, finally, much-needed sleep, which was consistently interrupted by the muffled blast-beats of the local discotheque until the establishment's closing at 3am.