Christmas in Kenya

After I got back from Arusha, Tanzania I left with my host family on December 21st to go to Maseno, a small town 30 minutes outside of Kisumu in Western Kenya. I had driven through Maseno once before on the same day I met Obama's grandmother and I stopped on the side of the road that day to take pictures at the small landmark that designates where the Equator is. On Dec 21st, as we entered the town of Maseno I made a comment that I remembered the town because of the Equator and my host dad told me that the Equator passes within feet of his house. I of course thought he was exaggerating but as soon as we passed the Equator landmark, we turned right and headed up the mountain to his rural home where his mother still resides.

For Christmas, most Kenyans return to their ancestral homes to be with their families. When people retire in Kenya, they often build a house in their ancestral area surrounded by people from their ethnic group. In a country like Kenya where there are 42 different ethnic groups, each with their own distinct language, culture and traditions, it is comforting for people to retire amongst familiar things.

When we arrived at the rural home, there were three houses within the fenced-in compound. In the main house, my host father's mother lives in addition to his youngest brother who is 18 years old. My host family is Luhya and it is Luhya tradition that the sons build homes next to their father's house. The other two buildings in the compound are for my host father and his brother. In the days before Christmas the house was filled with many many people! They would often joke around that there was no way to know who had eaten and who was forgotten because there were so many people around the house. I learned quickly that every evening before going to bed, everyone takes tea (usually milk tea/chai). My body has gotten so accustomed to taking tea upwards of 4 to 5 times a day that it doesn't keep me up at night but I certainly feel the withdrawal if 10:30 am passes and I haven't had my tea yet. The first night staying in Maseno was interesting. I shared a room with my host brother's friend and the farm help. Both of the guys I shared the room with snored but for a good part of the night I just laughed to myself because it reminded me of episodes of the Three Stooges that I would watch as a kid with my dad. The one guy had a loud deep snore while the other guy followed with a soft wimpering snore.

Much of the town of Maseno consists of homes built on the mountain. A few different times, I went on hikes with my host father's nephews and brother. All around the hill there are these huge boulders that we did some rock climbing on. We saw a few monkeys and geckos. I was told that leopards used to be all over the mountain but as the population expanded and houses were built in different areas, the leopards moved away.

In the days before Christmas I inquired about if there was a Catholic church that I could go to on Christmas. No one really knew but on Christmas morning I was woken up by someone saying that they found a place that was having a Catholic Mass but that it started in 45 minutes. So I quickly got dressed and had tea before I headed down the mountain with the help of one of my host father's nephews to Maseno University. When we arrived at the building they usually have Mass at, the entire place was empty. We finally found a woman who told us that the Mass wasn't starting for another hour. So the two of us walked all the way back up the mountain and I had more of a proper breakfast before making the walk back to church.

This Christmas Mass is definitely one that I will remember for many years. The Mass was celebrated in a lecture hall of Maseno University that was in the shape of a small gymnasium. There were no benches but everyone sat in desks. Sitting in a desk for church was something that seemed peculiar at first but as I reflected on it, it seemed to make sense. When we go to church, don't we go to learn and be educated? In much the same way a professor stands in front of a class and lectures, a priest also lectures and discusses the lessons of the Bible.

When the Mass started there were about 15 people, I was of course the only white person and was very aware of it since the children who were present stared at me the entire time. After the priest finished the homily, I heard a large commotion in the back of church and I turned around to see over 50 people entering the church. All of these people had arrived late in the typical Kenyan style but did not want to disrupt the homily.

The entire church service was very basic. There were no elaborate Christmas decorations or poinsettias. There were no elaborate vestments the priest wore. There were no Christmas songs accompanied by musicians playing expensive instruments. The choir consisted of the three people in the front of the congregation who actually had a song book. The only accompaniment came from one woman with a tambourine. During the offertory, people brought up all sorts of things including a huge bunch of bananas, bags of rice and even a live chicken.

When I returned to the house after church, I helped prepare the large Christmas lunch of pilau which is rice mixed with spices from Zanzibar and beef. Per tradition, every single person assists in some way. I volunteered to cut tomatoes and other vegetables. It was funny to see people's reactions because men normally do not cook in Kenyan culture, let alone a white man. People watched me for a few minutes to make sure I actually knew what I was doing and wasn't going to cut myself on the knife. It reminded me of the time my girlfriend Rachel and I cooked hamburgers for my host family in Nairobi. My host mother kept coming in to check on us (particularly me) to make sure we weren't burning down her kitchen and that we weren't going to serve them inedible food.

After the lunch was prepared, we had a short prayer service where we sang and read the Christmas story from the Bible. Many of the people present were not conversant in English so the service was entirely in Swahili. After prayers, everyone ate and entertained the various visitors who stopped by throughout the day. Besides the large lunch, nothing else special was planned.

The one notable thing I realized was that no one exchanged presents. There was never even any mention of gifts or Santa which was VERY different from the material-driven American version of Christmas. The focus during this Christmas wasn't on having more "stuff" but was simply a day to spend time with family and be thankful for what they do have. I feel that so many times in America, we often forget the meaning of Christmas. One episode of The Simpsons comes to mind where Bart Simpson says, "I think people are starting to forget the true meaning of Christmas...to celebrate the birth of Santa Clause."

As a belated Christmas gift, just last week I was able to deliver 5 soccer balls to an orphanage in Kibera slum. The soccer balls were all donated by people from home. Before Rachel and I went to Kibera, we stopped by the store to buy a bag of 100 candies for less than a dollar. When we were playing with the kids and brought the bag out, word spread quickly that there was candy as all the kids started yelling "SWEEEEETS!!!" Those 100 candies went very fast but the kids all loved them.

This Christmas was the first Christmas I have ever spent away from my family. It wasn't until coming to Kenya and spending time with people like all of the orphan children in Kibera that I realized just how many things I have to be thankful for.