'Tis the Season

Christmas is the great shopping holiday in America, and Kenya--like most of the world--follows along with American customs and culture like a line of reindeer hitched lockstep to Rudolph. Commercialism is spreading like an avalanche, even here. The mall are getting bigger, the advertising glitzier. I wanted to share a few of our experiences as we try to celebrate an American Christmas here in Africa.

--Our fake plastic tree does indeed have presents under it, coming from two primary places. One--grandmas in America. Two--an annual "Thanksgiving-time" yard sale among missionaries. The yard sale is a great chance for missionaries to trade their junk between households, and it gives us a chance to buy something affordable for each other. The grandma gifts arrive in the mail, and while everyone know grandmas love to SPOIL grandkids, our grandmas also have become VERY savvy.

Last year, the Kenyan post office ran out of money to pay their workers in December. So, anything that was sent in late November--which normally WOULD have arrived by Christmas--didn't get here until late January. This year, they've budgeted better, but the mail truck drivers went on strike last week. (Wouldn't we all like an extra week off around the holidays?)

Our grandmas outsmarted them this year. They shopped early and sent oodles of presents in late October and early November. A few packages didn't make it in time, but most did, making this Christmas more enjoyable in the "material" sense.

--The malls here in Kenya are growing bigger and more plentifully stocked, for sure. But imports still carry a hefty price tag. (For example, Micah and Asher emptied out their piggy bank a few weeks ago to buy a "CARS" car. It cost them about $18 in a toy store here. The same car would have been four bucks in America.) We can't justify buying very many things at our Nairobi malls at import prices.

The malls do boast of some American traditions. We found one with Santa Claus posing with the children. The kids sat with him and told him what they wanted. Santa gave them a small gift as they left--a gag gift every little boy would love, a fart in a cup.

(Notice the unorthodox and non-Nordic St. Nick in the pic above.)

--One last observation: as malls have grown, parking has become more difficult. The malls are capitalizing on entering shoppers by installing gates and meters, forcing you to pay a few dollars upon exit. These "automated" devices have been around parking garages for a long time in America, but I'm not sure Kenya grasps the concept yet. They employ one person at every machine (the ticket-taking machine by the exits and the pay stalls inside the mall) to "help" you pay. It's quite comedic watching employees stand next to the very machine that was supposed to replace them and doing the job anyway.

--As we drove down into the Great Rift Valley yesterday to celebrate the holidays at an orphanage, I laughed as "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" played on the iPod. Blazing sun, dirt roads, and cactus trees aren't what Michael Buble was talking about.

We hope you enjoy your holiday season with family and friends. And to ours in America, we'll echo the lyrics, "I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams."

Buzzcut Babies

I realize that my blog the past few months has consisted of more pictures of our kids than actual insightful insight into missions in Africa. I'll try to meld the two today.

If you haven't noticed, Kenyans don't really have long or straight hair usually. However, whites do. So, when little white babies come out with no hair (or very little of it), our Kenyan friends often ask us why we cut our babies' hair. They assume that since their babies come out with short, tight hair and then it remains similar to that throughout life...then we whites must have babies with long, straight hair like ours as adults. If babies' hair is short, then it must be because we cut it for some cultural reason.

To date, we haven't put a blade to little Claire's head. This is her natural look at 8 months old.