There are things in Africa that will always amaze me. I was driving with Iddy the other day and we passed some women on the road carrying heavy loads on their heads. He asked me if that still impressed me, and I said it did. He told me that on another day he and Chris had seen a woman with a 20L jug of water on her head bend down to pick something up, all the while keeping her load perfectly balanced. Chris remarked at how impressive this was, and Iddy thought it looked perfectly ordinary. I never get tired of seeing all the things people choose to carry on their heads here. Sometimes it's 1L bottle of water, sometimes it's a backpack, sometimes it's bicycle. The head is the default "carrying place." It kind of makes sense when you think about it: all the weight of your body and the load you carry stay centered and your posture remains upright. Then there is the whole "bend at the knees" gospel that we preach in America. They don't preach that gospel here. Bending at the hips is the way to go (unless, of course, you are carrying something on your head!). Whether tying a shoe lace, picking up something you dropped, or planting a garden, the body is always bent at the hip. I love observing all these differences. If life was a meal, these differences are the spices that make it so much more delicious. Everyone is different, and these differences are beautiful, meaningful, interesting, maybe even... necessary.
Some differences are more subtle and go a bit deeper. Consider this common children's song that we often sing:
"Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Life is but a dream"
My girls sing this version of it which they learned at school:
"Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream
If you see a crocodile
Don't forget to scream"
Of course, they love this version because it involves screaming, but it also teaches children a valuable, practical lesson. Crocodiles are dangerous, and you should stay away from them. There are a lot of crocodiles around here. If you see one, you should most definitely scream (and run). We teach "life is but a dream." This is not necessarily bad, but it reveals a difference in perspective.
There's another song that Iddy and Oscar taught me when we lived in Kisumu. These are the words:
"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay
It's okay, my dear, it's okay
In the land of paradise where there is no surprise
No sorrows, no worries at all
Dear friend am leaving now
And the train is waiting by
To take me with my body over there
We will meet in paradise where there is no surprise
No sorrows, no worries at all"
I think I have written about this before, but I'm always struck by the fact that paradise is depicted as a place with no surprises. In my American mindset, I generally think of surprises as good, but I can think of many people, both in America and Africa, who would love to live with no more surprises. Don't we all find security in knowing that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever? No surprises! The Kenyans claim this promise for themselves, and we can do that, too. Just as Paul said he became "all things to all people," so our God is the God we need, at all times, and for all people. When I was young I loved this song about heaven:
"Come and go with me to my father's house
Come and go with me to my father's house
It's a big, big house
With lots and lots of rooms
A big, big table
With lots and lots of food
A big, big yard
Where we can play football
A big, big house
It's my father's house"
As I sang this song to my girls last night, their imaginations took off. "What about lots and lots of ice cream?" Abby Jones asked. "What about a big, big espresso machine?" Chris joined in. "How about a big, big playground?" Yes, yes, yes. God is big enough to be who each one of us needs him to be. When I describe God, I don't use the same words (or even the same language) as a Kenyan would, but there is a sense that we are talking about the same thing. It isn't as if I think, "oh no, I don't think God is like that." Instead I think, "oh wow, God can do that, too!" And my picture of God gets bigger and bigger and bigger. It isn't paradoxical, it is perfectly harmonious. He is elegantly simple, but also eternally complex. He is the God that I need, the God that I want, the God that I serve, the God that I love. I know Him so well, yet there is so much about Him I don't know. The more I know of Him, the more I realize I have yet to learn. In a sense, I knew more before I ever started because I didn't know anything about what I didn't know yet (ha... that doesn't really make much sense). The point is, I love adventure, I love learning, I love mystery, and God continues to offer all of these things to me in my life. And for Abby Jones, he created ice cream.
