The Mystery of the Kenyan King (Kristi Cameron Book 4) Page 2
“Oh, Daddy,” Kristi said. “You’re not going to get much sleep then tonight!”
“It’s okay, honey,” her dad replied. “I got plenty of sleep on the plane and I feel great right now. I need to be the one to do this since I work for the airline. It’ll go more smoothly, I think. Having Ken along will help, too, since he knows the country and people—and the way to the hotel!” Steve grinned at the missionary standing by his side. Ken and another missionary, Phil Williams, had met their plane and were there to help the group in Nairobi and on the trip the next day across country. Phil was the missionary pastor at Grace Mission Station. He was going to escort the teens and their chaperones to the hotel and help them get checked in.
“Do you need Pete and me to stay and help, Dad?” Dan asked.
“No thanks, son. Ken tells me there are plenty of men looking for some work so they can earn a little money for their families. We’ll hire a few of them to do the actual loading for us. You go on back to the hotel and keep an eye out for your mom and sister—and Skeeter, too. Especially Skeeter!” Steve clapped his son on the back and winked. Standing side by side, Dan looked like a younger version of his dad—both blonde and blue-eyed, both athletically built. “It’ll be late when we get to the hotel so I’ll see you in the morning. Ken says we can all sleep in a bit, and I think that’s a great idea. The bus will be there at ten o’clock for us.”
“Okay, Dad. See you in the morning, then. Love you!” Kristi said as she turned to join her friends. There were sixteen teenagers in the group and six adults from Lakeview Baptist Church. Pastor Tim and his wife Linda were their youth leaders, and were heading up this missions trip. They were young and fun and the teens loved them. Besides the Camerons, another couple, Mr. and Mrs. Grant, had come along as chaperones, as well. Their own children were grown up and had moved away, so the older couple enjoyed helping with the youth group. They often opened their home to the teens and joined them in their activities. They were favorites with the teenagers, as well.
Pastor Tim had divided the group into three teams, each with its own area of ministry. The Camerons and their friends Pete, Robyn and Anna would concentrate on helping out at the hospital; another team led by the Grants was going to work at the school; and Pastor Tim and Linda would lead the last team of teens at the orphanage. They would all work together from time to time in the building projects, in the neighboring village, and in the small mission church. It was going to be a busy two weeks with no time to get bored, that was for sure! They hoped to squeeze out a day or two for a sightseeing safari, while they were there, too.
The hotel was a pleasant surprise as they stepped off their chartered bus a short time later. It was as modern as any hotel they had ever been in back in the United States. “Enjoy it while you can!” Pastor Phil, their missionary guide, grinned. “Things will be, shall we say, a little rougher out in the bush for the next couple weeks!” They were all so tired by the time they got to their rooms that they didn’t really get a chance to enjoy their nice surroundings. Every one of them was asleep by the time their heads hit the pillows!
No one needed a wake-up call in the morning, though. They were anxious to begin their African adventure! The group met in the hotel restaurant for breakfast. “Look!” Skeeter exclaimed as he studied the menu. “If we were going to be here for lunch or dinner we could have zebra, crocodile or ostrich!”
“Oh yum!” Kristi said sarcastically, making a face. “I’m glad we’re here for breakfast then! I think I’ll just stick with eggs. Uh, they do mean chicken eggs, don’t they, Mom, and not ostrich eggs or crocodile eggs?”
Rachel laughed. “Yes, I’m sure it’s chicken eggs, Kristi! If it was something else, they would say so. Besides, one ostrich egg would probably feed us all!” She looked at the menu and then paused for a moment. “Oh, and by the way—I just want to remind you all that we may be invited to eat with some of the African people. If they offer you something strange, you must be very careful not to offend them. Be polite, try it at least, and smile! Okay?”
“Oh, you know me—I’ll try anything!” Skeeter said.
“Uh-huh. We know you, alright,” Rachel murmured with a grin as she lowered her head to look at the menu again.
They wasted no time checking out of the hotel after break fast and loading onto the chartered bus that would take them to the mission compound. Public buses called matatus abounded in the city, but they were small and packed to the rooftops with people and animals, and often driven by crazy-drunk drivers. For a group their size it was safer and more comfortable to rent a bus of their own. It was nothing fancy, but there was plenty of room and, the driver assured them, very dependable.
Ken Smiley and Phil Williams had driven the truck to Nairobi from their mission compound, but now Pastor Phil rode on the bus with the group and Pastor Tim climbed into the truck to keep Ken company. The truck led the way as they drove through the streets of Nairobi.
The teens stared out the windows of the bus as they passed through the city. There were many modern buildings, and even skyscrapers, but there were many narrow, crowded streets, also, each packed with dozens of tiny storefronts. They were open to the streets, with garage-type doors that pulled down over them at night. Homeless orphans wandered the streets, and everywhere there were beggars. Further from the down town area were slums with hundreds of tin and cardboard shacks that served as homes for the poorest of the poor people in Nairobi. The streets flowed with garbage and raw sewage, and the smell was awful. The laughter and chatter in the bus died down as the teens and their chaperones looked out at a world they had never imagined before. Kristi wiped the tears from her eyes and noticed the others on the bus were sniffling and doing the same. It was hard to under stand how they could have so much, while so many in the world had so very little.
The bus finally followed the mission truck north out of Nairobi. The group was surprised as the highway went through wooded areas. “I thought we’d be driving across the savanna?” Pete questioned. “Where are the zebras and giraffes and antelopes?”
Pastor Phil shook his head. “Not here. But don’t worry—you’ll get your chance to see plenty of Africa’s wildlife! Watch, though, and you’ll see glimpses of the Great Rift Valley below as we travel along the rim. The Rift Valley is one of the won ders of the world! The valley forms a trench that stretches more than 3700 miles long across Africa. You can even see it from the moon! We’ll be making our way down into the valley soon.”
The views they got of the valley were beautiful but the teenagers were disappointed that there were no wild animals yet. There were donkeys pulling carts, herds of goats and sheep crossing the road every now and then, dogs, a few cows—but there were no giraffes or zebras, or even a wildebeest to be seen.
“I can’t wait to see lions and elephants,” Robyn said.
“We’ll see those probably in the nature reserves if we get to go on safari,” Pete said, “along with hippos, rhinos, crocodiles—”
“Monkeys and baboons?” Skeeter asked.
Pastor Phil, who had been listening to their conversation, laughed. “You won’t have to wait to see monkeys and baboons! We have plenty of those at the mission compound!”
“Cool!” Skeeter exclaimed.
The trip to the mission station went by quickly. The African scenery kept them pressed to the windows. Now and then they would pass people on bicycles with live animals perched in their baskets, or women on foot bowed under the weight of huge bundles on their backs. They never failed to smile and wave and call out “Jambo!” (Hello!) The teenagers eagerly waved back and yelled “Jambo!”
At last the bus turned off the highway and onto a dirt road that was more rocks than dirt. They bounced and swayed until they were all hanging on for dear life. They passed through a small African town, and past people working in their shambas, or gardens. The bus hit a particularly deep hole and Kristi hit the ceiling with her head. “Ouch!” she cried out. Fortunately it was less than a mile further up t
he road before they came to Grace Mission Station, set in the Great Rift Valley of Africa.
The mission truck led the way through the gates of the compound. Several little children ran out to see the bus that followed it and began to run alongside waving wildly and calling out, “Karibu! Karibu! Welcome!” Most of them were African children, but there was one little blonde-haired boy among them. “Daddy! Daddy!” he yelled, his small legs pumping to keep up with the bus.
“Hey there, Ryan!” Pastor Phil called back. “My son!” he said proudly to the group on the bus.
The truck and bus finally came to a stop in front of a concrete block building. “This is the guest house,” Pastor Phil told them. “It’s pretty plain but there is plenty of space for you all. There are only three bedrooms with real beds, but we have cots set up for the rest of you. We get groups like yours two or three times a year, so we’ve learned to be prepared. There’s only one bathroom, though, so you’ll have to use it quickly and be patient with everyone else. Guys, you get to use the outhouse, except for washing up. We have to take it easy on the plumbing, if you know what I mean! We’ll let the girls use the indoor bathroom.” There were groans from the guys and sighs of relief from the girls.
The teens eagerly piled off the bus and searched the mound of backpacks that was already being unloaded from the truck for their own gear. They each grabbed an armload of other supplies and turned to the large guest house. The building itself was rather stark, but heaps of red and pink bougain villea and other colorful tropical flowers and plants softened its edges and actually made it quite charming. A wide porch with several rocking chairs and benches welcomed them.
A group of Americans had joined them by that time. Pastor Phil was holding his little boy Ryan in his arms as he made the introductions. “This is my wife Julie,” he said, hugging the pretty woman by his side, “and this is Dr. Bob Cooke, his wife Amy, Sarah Matthews, one of our nurses, and Mark and Beth Jameson. They run the orphanage. You’ll meet the rest of the team later tonight.” Everyone exchanged greetings and the men shook hands while the ladies hugged. The teenagers just stood there grinning.
“Why don’t you all go in and get settled,” Julie Williams invited. “You’re probably hungry, too. The ladies and I have lunch ready for you, so as soon as you’ve had a chance to wash up, come on out back and we’ll eat, okay? Phil, go ahead and show them where they’ll be sleeping while we finish getting lunch on the table, okay?” she directed.
The group followed the missionary pastor into the guest house and looked around with interest. The living room was nothing fancy but it looked comfortable enough. Pastor Phil spoke once they were all inside. “We’ll have the adults take the three bedrooms,” he said, “and you girls can have the large room in back. There are nine cots set up in there for you. Guys, you’re bunking here in the living room. Two of you can take the couches and there are five cots over there against the wall that the rest of you can unfold at night and set up around the room. It’ll be a little crowded, but I think you’ll all fit.”
“This will be great, Pastor Phil,” Dan said. “We’ll be fine. Thanks!”
“Yeah, thanks! Cool! Thank you!” the other teens echoed. The girls headed for the back room to claim their cots, and the three couples disappeared into the bedrooms to deposit their luggage. The guys started washing up in the bathroom and kitchen. They were more than ready to eat!
Lunch was set up at picnic tables under a rough pavilion behind the guest house. The pavilion was actually centered behind several other buildings, as well. “Those are the homes for the staff,” Pastor Phil replied when Rachel questioned him about them. “There are two families in each duplex, and then a small dorm for several of the single ladies.” Flowers abounded around the concrete buildings, and behind each house was a vegetable garden and fruit trees. A tall, thick spiky hedge surrounded the housing compound.
“It’s beautiful back here,” Kristi said as she came up to her mother and gave her a hug.
“We have a gardener and a couple helpers who keep up the grounds and tend to the gardens,” Amy Cooke said as she joined them. “We’re fortunate to have a good, deep well, so our gardens do fairly well most of the time.”
“The mission station employs quite a few of the local people to help in our homes and in the various ministries,” Pastor Phil went on to explain. “It helps them and their families, as well as us. We would get very little of our important work done if we had to do all the little day-to-day chores that take twice as long to do here than they do in the States.”
“Actually, part of the meal you’re about to have was made by some of our African workers,” Julie Williams said. She raised her voice to call the group to the tables. “If you’re all ready to eat, why don’t you have a seat?” There were cheers from the guys as they rushed to fill the benches.
There were plenty of tables for the group from America and the mission staff who were present. Dr. Cooke stood before them all and said, “Habari ya Mchana! Good Afternoon! Karibu! Welcome! Salamu katika jina la Yesu. Greetings in the name of Jesus!” He paused and looked at them all with a twinkle in his eye and said, “And if that’s too much of a mouthful, you can all just say Jambo!”
The group laughed and shouted out “Jambo!”
“We’re so glad to have you all here at Grace Mission Station, and we are looking forward to an exciting couple of weeks as we work together here in this little part of God’s mission field. I hope you came prepared to work because that is what we have planned for you—a lot of hard, and sometimes heart breaking, work. But I’ll tell you what—it is the most beautiful work you will ever do and you will go to bed every night just praising God for allowing you to share in His work here in Kenya!”
“Now,” he went on, “my wife tells me we’re having stew for lunch—gazelle stew!” The teens looked at one another. “Um-um! Now that’s good eatin’! Spoon it over your rice, have some chapati with it…” The teenagers started looking a little nervous and he laughed. “What? Chapati? Don’t worry! It’s just fried bread—kind of like a tortilla. Sorry guys—there aren’t any Golden Arches around here! I guarantee, though, by the time you leave here you’re going to like our African cooking! Now let’s bow our heads and thank the Lord for our de-lish-ous gazelle stew!”
___________
CHAPTER THREE
___________
Grace Mission Station
“You know, Kristi, that gazelle stew wasn’t bad!” Skeeter said as they crossed the road.
“I noticed you had three helpings, Skeeter! I agree, though. I really couldn’t tell the difference between that and beef stew. I liked the chapati, too. It was fun eating in the pavilion with the missionaries, wasn’t it?”
“Mrs. Jameson told me there are six American families here and five single ladies,” Anna said. “This place is a lot larger than I thought it would be.”
“I guess it takes a lot of people to carry on all the minis tries they do. You know—the hospital and orphanage, and the school and church and everything. I wonder what it would be like to live here all the time and not be able to run to the mall or out for hamburgers, or to go to school in a little village where you were the minority,” Robyn said seriously.
“Well, I guess we’ll probably know by the time we leave here, Robyn,” Kristi said. She looked at her friend thought fully. Robyn was usually the happy-go-lucky one who didn’t have a care in the world. To see her serious for a change was pretty amazing.
Dr. Cooke (or as he preferred to be called, ‘Dr. Bob’) and Pastor Phil were taking the group across the road outside the compound to the other part of the mission station. It, too, was surrounded by a thick hedge. This part of Grace Mission Station held the orphanage, hospital and school, Dr. Bob ex plained, as well as another building that held equipment and supplies. The truck had been unloaded there. The church was located down in the village where more people would be encouraged to attend. The mission also had a small airstrip nearby. Ken Smiley was
their pilot and general maintenance man.
“We have open clinic days at the hospital on Tuesdays and Fridays,” Dr. Bob said. “You’ll see a long line of people stretched from the front of the building to the gates all day long. People from all over the area come with all kinds of illnesses and injuries; mothers bring their children for immun izations; and women who are having babies come for care. We’ve come a long way in helping the people to understand that modern medicine can help them, not only to get well, but to live healthier. Most of the people who come walk for miles to get here, and very few of them can pay fully for their treatment. We charge very little but, of course, if they have no money we take care of them anyway. Many of them will bring vegetables or fruit from their gardens, or a few eggs or a chicken to pay.”
“How many patients can your hospital hold, Dr. Bob?” Pete asked.
“Well, as you can probably see, we’ve added on to the building several times. At this point we have sixty-five beds, including twenty-five that are in the children’s ward. We’re really excited that you are here to help us add on to that! We’ll be able to add another ten beds for the kids!” Dr. Bob grinned and rubbed his hands together gleefully. “We do three or four surgeries a day,” he went on. “There are three doctors and four American nurses, as well as another five or six African nurse’s aides. We also have a mobile clinic that goes out into the bush once a week to reach the people who can’t get to the hospital.”
“The best part of our medical program, though, is that each patient hears about the Lord Jesus Christ,” Pastor Phil added. “And that is true about every area of our ministry here—the orphanage, school, food programs… We believe that meeting the physical needs of these people is important, but we are here to minister to their spiritual needs, as well. I am pastoring the church in the village for now until it is ready to call a National to lead them. I head up the evangelism outreaches here, and in the outlying areas. The hospital and other medical ministries open doors for us to tell the people about the Lord.”