The Score: The Oven - 5; Rich - 0

After numerous attempts to repair the oven here at the house, Rich has been unsuccessful . . . innovative and diligent, but unsuccessful. So, Ruth and I are having to be innovative and diligent in cooking meals that we had planned to bake. So far, so good. I'll let you know the final score when the "game" is over!

Friday night Ruth and Richard invited James and Antonia Huong to the house for dinner. James teaches at Moffat and they also are friends of Ruth and Rich from California. In addition to teaching, James is the "computer guy" for the school, so of course, I took advantage of his knowledge to ask why I can't upload pictures. In lay terms, the reason is that from Kijabe, we have to go thru a secure server rather going directly to the internet. That extra stop along the way, hinders the uploading process. So, I won't be able to provide as many pictures as often as I had hoped.

However, we are going into Nairobi with Richard on Tuesday, where I can access the internet directly. My plan is to take our laptop and do some posting then and upload a group of pictures for you all. Thank you for being patient with this process. I'm very anxious to show you some of the sights that we are enjoying, and to provide some insight into where we are and what it is like here in Kijabe.

Our trek to Mama Chiku's (I spelled it wrong last time; I forgot I wasn't in Southern California!) was very fun. Four of the students joined us at Moffat -- Nancy, Joseph G, Joseph S, and Samuel -- and we walked the half mile or so over to the dukas. A typical Kenyan cement structure stands just off the dusty, bumpy dirt road. On the far end, above the last door is painted, "Mama Chiku's Motel." Not sure why it says motel, because it is only a small cafe. A white curtain hangs in the doorway, waving in and out in the afternoon breeze. Pushing aside the curtain, we enter a small room with four or five tables and chairs. It's plain inside. Nothing matches anything, but it's clean. The six of us find chairs around a large table and order sodas. The students are a bit "up tight," not too sure how to act around this new teacher and his wife, but they are very polite. After the sodas are gone and we've been chatting for 15 minutes or so, I ask them, "Wouldn't you like something to eat?" Gene points to the blackboard menu on the wall, and begins querying them about what's what. The students give him information and break into Swahili. Then Joseph G politely asks if they can order stew and chapatis (a cross between pita bread and a flour tortilla), so we did . . . family style. Shortly, we are brought large bowls of beef stew, rice, boiled potatoes, green beans, cabbage salad, and a large plate of chapatis. And do they eat. I soon realize this isn't normal dining hall food and they are really enjoying the treat. [The bill? 750 Schillings or less than $10 American money for the six of us.]

As they ate this very delicious meal, they all began to open up. I guess food truly is a way to a man's (woman's) heart . . . or something like that. They shared about their families, where they live, why they are at Moffat, what they want to do when they're finished. We joked and laughed together, and as we walked back to campus with them, we felt blessed that we had truly made a connection with them. Tomorrow and Wednesday we will take the rest of the class, and I'm sure word will have gotten around that it's okay to order stew and chapatis.

As Gene has taught these few days, he has already learned ways to better communicate to the students. He's very thankful for an overhead projector and transparencies. The use of these is a valuable tool, aiding the students to take better notes of his lectures. By the way, the students told him on Friday that they don't have any trouble understanding his "accent." That's truly an answer to prayer.

Winter is arriving in Kijabe. It's been sweater weather all day today, and we have a fire in the fireplace tonight. We're not complaining. It beats the heat and humidity in Northwest Arkansas!

This morning we attended the chapel service at RVA (Rift Valley Academy). It's Father's Day, and the Dad's were honored. Because many of the students have Dads who are out in the bush of Africa, a special prayer was offered for these students and their Dads. I suppose there were probably 600 or more of us in attendance. We enjoyed great praise and worship together, singing to the Lord, thousands of miles from America, worshipping the same God, with many of the same songs. I didn't feel like I was in the heart of East Africa. I realized how great it is to be part of the family of God. And I am grateful.

Sidebar: The time indicated for each entry is not Kijabe time. It's Arkansas (Central) time, so to determine what time I really made each entry, add 8 hours -- just in case you're a Type A and keep track of these kind of things.