A Gift from Me to Me

I treated myself to a birthday gift today and bought a painting. It was on display at a restaurant where I met missionary friends for lunch. It stared and stared at me till I took the plunge and bought it. (Very uncharacteristic of me, BTW. I do not buy art on the spur of the moment.) Now it's staring at me from the shelf at the missionary guest house where I am till tomorrow.

It's by the Kenyan artist Rix Butama and is called "Kiss of the Executive." I love the bizarre combination of colors (earth tones and bright colors), the contrast between abstract and realism, even the contrast between the stained glass windows in the back, and the matted look of the animal's skin in the foreground. And I love the contrast between what each of these represent. Anyway, I like the picture.

Now, I simply need to know where in the world I'll hang it.

I guess I'll say, "Home is where I hang my reticulated giraffe."

It is indeed a male reticulated giraffe. And you thought a giraffe is a giraffe? Just like a zebra's not just a zebra, there are different kinds of giraffes in Africa. Different kinds have different markings. And different habitats. This particular kind is found almost exclusively in Northern Kenya. And in zoos around the world, of course. How do I know it's a male? Both male and female giraffes have two horns, but as they grow older, the males have calcium deposits that grow on their skulls. Thus, the lump on its forehead is a third horn. They get two behind their regular horns, as well, so an older male giraffe will seem to have five horns. Just some fun trivia from Africa.

Peeps for the peeps

I'm sitting here, listening to the sound of a chorus of crickets again. I'm home indeed. Earlier tonight, as I walked home from reading to the kids (and answering gazillion questions), the croaking of the frogs was like a loud song of praise to their Creator. It made me smile. As did the kids' giggles when I placed a Peep next to their plates at dinner tonight...

"Here's some chicken to eat with your ugali," I joked.

"What is that, Adele?"

"It's a little chicken."

Giggle.

"It's yellow. That one is pink. Can I eat it?"

"Finish your food first..."

"Adele, look at Obed's chicken. It doesn't have a head." (Of course Obed had already bitten off the head of his little peep.)

Later, as they were still licking their fingers to get the last bit of sugar off, the kids swarmed me for thank-you hugs.

"Thank you for thinking of us, Adele," Hillary said in his accent that's becoming more American by the day.

It struck me again how thankful the kids are for something as small as a single peep. It's new. It's sweet. It's fun. And it shows that I thought of each one of them.

I spent most of my day visiting with my Kenyan colleagues (and drank lots of chai, of course.)

Tomorrow, a team leaves for Sudan. I wish I could go with them but wouldn't want to leave so soon again, so I'm thrilled to have time to start working on the tasks on my rapidly-growing to-do list.

It's good to be back.

Oh, before I forget--I made a quick trip into town to take someone to the doctor and pick up a package at the post office. I've written about Posta Kenya before, and today I was surprised to be asked to step into the office and take a seat. Next, I was led down the hall to a bare office marked with CUSTOMS painted on the door and a man in a suit and tie sitting behind a desk. Somehow, it felt a little like a scene from a strange movie. The post office clerk walked up with my package and promptly opened it for me! I had to unpack everything while the expressionless man with his dark tie inspected item after item. (It was a package sent by friend for my birthday and it had arrived while I was gone.) There was a beautiful Willow Creek statue of two girls praying, a coffee mug and some packages of Crystal Light. Fortunately, the stern clerk decided the gifts were worthless and I didn't have to pay taxes in order for the box to be released to me. (I, on the other hand, know it's far from worthless and am thoroughly blessed by the care package.)

Packages I've received this far have always been just envelopes or at most a flat box. (Oh, the guy would've had a blast charging me when my friend Nina sent me 20 DVDs for the kids! Fortunately, it was a flat box, so he didn't get to see what I got.) I can just imagine what absolute shock it would be if USPS decided to start inspecting all packages!

It's late. Time to go crawl in. Morning comes quickly.