It's time for me to bring it up again--that relentless, nagging burden of guilt and confusion about returning to our gluttoness society, where we all seem to take clean running water, electricity, and toilets for granted. The strange phenomenon is that I miss all of these luxuries, especially the pristine views and visibly clear air. But I resent the fact that we all expect it, and that we go on chasing wealth as if we are entitled to it, as an end in itself. "Conspicuous consumption" bothers me. It disturbs me about myself, and about our society in general.
My missions pastor met with me last week, and offered to counsel me if I have difficulty with this issue, as he says it is common upon reentry to the states. Last night, I attended our second family birthday, in as many weeks, at the most expensive restaurant in town, as a dinner guest celebrant. Also present was my brother, who once climbed Mt. Kilamanjaro in Tanzania. He asked me if I was overwhelmed by eating in such a place after spending so much time in Africa. I replied that it was much more difficult two weeks ago, just the day after coming back. Sadly, I felt comfortable there last night, as the trip memories are already beginning to fade into longterm memory areas of the brain.
While there, I lived in a very sheltered village for three months, and still saw poverty every single day, but moreso when we drove or walked outside our gate to go into the world. The world outside our walls made our campus seem very ritzy and luxurious. Some Kenyans, like former driver David, that are "middle class", resent the conspicuous consumption typified by the elaborate homes and lifestyles that white foreigners build and buy when they move to Kenya. I don't blame them. It must hurt. I hurt for them--being trapped with no way out, not in this lifetime.
Whenever I work on creating my musical slide show on my computer, which I am burning onto a cd for presentations, I get choked up. I miss David, Munythia, Clint, Kilonzi, Mary, Kasyoka, Amos, Johnson, Blessed, Catherine, Sarah, Faith, Stella, Kevin ... and the list goes on and on. I miss the mamas and Lillian's crew. I miss the new friends I met in Kenya--Maggy and Paul, Mercy and Jael, Gretchen and Margaret and all the JSS students. It's hard not knowing when and if I will see them again. I now check my American Airlines bulletins every month to see how many free airline miles I need before I can fly back there for free. Only 20,000! I figure that will take me about 2 years to earn, best guess. I feel guilty about living in luxury, knowing most of them live with much less. I want what I have for them, all of them. I want the hope of a better life. I want them to have the access to health care and basic necessities and travel and reliable electricity and career opportunities. Some will have it because of Rafiki, some day. Those outside the walls, educated or not, may never have what I have. That saddens me. I have too much, they have too little. I don't deserve what I have. They deserve more than they have. Don't they?
Anyway, the photos I'm posting are mostly of Kenyatta House, the main house where YL lives and many of the FT missionaries have offices. It's also where we host dinners for the medical teams and home office teams, which are always special occasions. Finally, it's where we set up our Internet Cafe when we lost the wireless capacity for our campus computers. I spent many hours there. It's beautiful, part of the oasis feeling. The African artifacts and art are fabulous. I regret not taking more photos of the interior, as it is absolutely lovely.
