Terri Martin

Page 3

Our little group was beginning to come to the attention of others in the Reno community. We were invited to talk with the Episcopal Bishop of Nevada, Bishop Katherine Jefferts Schori, to discuss the mission project. The Bishop asked us to attend the Annual Episcopal Convention in Las Vegas. She said we could have a booth and tell about our mission project.

I was thrilled. Being thrilled about attending a convention was amazing as I had been manning booths at conventions for years while trying to recruit nurses and allied health professionals for my employer. It should have been like rolling off a log, but it wasn't -- it was exciting. We were on the move. IDM was really starting to gel; it was so very important to me.

We made posters, gathered as many crafts and hand-made items as Muthoka, Cathy, and Ron could locate, and tried to set up a semi-professional-looking display on a shoe string and a card table. We created business cards, donation forms, and everything else we could think of and off I went to Las Vegas. Ron and Cathy were tied up with Lifewater chores; Muthoka was overwhelmed at work -- leaving me, all alone!

In her opening speech, Bishop Schori focused on outreach and mission work. She said, "... if we aren't doing mission work ...", spoke specifically about IDM, and asked me to speak to the assembly in an hour. Dumfounded is an understatement. I had an hour to prepare to speak to 300 people on a subject and a place I had only heard of and dreamed about. The only words I remember speaking are "grass roots group". What I managed to squeak out must had more impact than I could have imagined; I spoke only what was in my heart and in the hearts of Ron and Muthoka. The assembly gave IDM half of the offering from the Bishop's Service at the Convention. It was the first money we had raised. I was amazed and as a team we were flabbergasted, thrilled, and very grateful. The sales of crafts had earned $400.00 and it felt like a million.

We decided at the moment we received the check that all monies we raised would go directly to the clinic fund. We would cover the expenses for IDM, for our travel, for all publicity and collateral, and everything else ourselves. The clinic was going to be built. I knew in my heart it would happen.

Ron, Muthoka, and I planned a trip to meet with the African Inland Church in Kysila in the Mua Hills in November of 2001. But, the September 11th atrocities occurred and we were forced to postpone our trip until February 2002. Our tickets came. Then, on February 15th, we boarded our plane to Africa ... it was unbelievable.

On final approach to Jomo Kenyatta Airport in Nairobi, I was looking out my window fascinated with the landscape. When we were about 300 feet off the runway I saw a very tall Masai and his herd. I almost jumped out of the plane. Ron laughed and knew I was hooked and we hadn't even landed. I was really in Africa. Muthoka and his daughter Becky had arrived the day before and were waiting for us at the airport with his sister and brother-in-law. And we were off.

The beauty of the countryside, the warmth of the people, the happiness that exudes from everywhere, and the need, each and all are overwhelming. I was enchanted and totally overwhelmed during the first few hours I was there. We went to Muthoka's sister's house in Nairobi to meet tons of people. We also met with the proposed general contractor and the plumber for the clinic. Muthoka and Ron got right down to business as there was no time to waste and we had to cram many months of work into ten days.

Everywhere we went, we ate! It was the last thing I expected. The people were living on what they could grow or forage -- and they fed us! The Kamba people, Muthoka's people, have a tradition that if you visit their home, you must eat with them ... so we did. We ate, and ate, and ate. Wonderful local treats with new flavors; odd-looking veggies with awesome simple sauces; coarse and yummy breads. The Kamba pray before meals, before trips, and generally all the time. The Kamba love God openly and freely. God lives openly in Africa and especially in Kenya. Every home we entered had God at its center. It was wonderful to see.

Muthoka shared his life with us. He took Ron and me everywhere. We saw his schools, his ancestral home, his aunts and uncles, his father, his sisters, and his cousins. We were welcomed with genuine warmth. We would drive down a dusty dirt road and meet friends and family everywhere. Everywhere we ventured, we were welcomed -- and fed. The Kamba want to be sure you eat! I am a bit on the slender side and the women wanted to put some weight on me. In this part of Africa, thin means hungry.

In the bible Jesus washed the feet of his disciples -- before a meal, the Kamba wash the hands of their guests. For me this is a magnificent tradition. A member of the family brings warm water and a basin, pours the water over your hands while you wash, and then hands you a towel for you to dry. The experience is ethereal. It gives new meaning and a special understanding to the feeling of welcome.