We Lived a Little Better Last Week

Ole Siloma is possibly the oldest Maasai man alive today. He was our neighbor during the years we lived in Loita, the grandfather of a boy who grew up with our boys. Ole Siloma's family has asked around fairly extensively and there doesn't seem to be any other remaining age-mate from his age group, Ilderitoi. His older brother, another of our neighbors from those years, passed away in the last 12 months.

I wanted to post this photo of our old friend because we saw him last week and truly, deeply, thoroughly enjoyed chewing the news and catching up with him. Ten years ago he gave Byron his beautiful snuff carrier as a gift when we were leaving Kenya. One of my favorite moments in the last week was Ole Siloma chuckling and saying to Byron, "Look what I have to carry my snuff in now!" as he pulled out a little plastic herb bottle that he's recycled from somewhere. It's true, his current snuff container is pretty awful compared to the antique he gave Byron!

I was also very touched that he asked after our kids and wanted us to bring them round so he could bless them. We didn't end up doing that, but I knew it was a priceless gesture.

Other priceless moments from last week include... Meeting an old acquaintance on the road who grabbed my hands and kissed my fingers. Let's be honest, he was drunk as a skunk, but it was sweet just the same. I loved a particularly beautiful evening with new friends... Chai at Ngoto Milai's, whose health I never take for granted so I always wonder if this is our last time together... Seeing Byron and Ole Mesenka, a couple of real brothers, together... Listening to the Colobus monkeys in the trees... Playing in the river with Heather... Conversations with Hennie and Becca... Knowing that a leopard had just strolled across the entrance to camp. Shame I didn't get to see him! I loved reading aloud to the family by the fire and that Colin did such an excellent job driving us over the way-less-than-perfect roads.



There are many challenges and terribly frustrating things about life in Loita but it was a good week. Good work. Good times. Good beauty. I like the kind of exhausted I get from days like that.

It's Good to be Outside

We leave today for a week of living outside. We have some small projects we're involved with in distant places and we need to get round to visit and catch up with folks from time to time.

Happily for us, this means we'll be in Loita this week. The roads are hard and long to get there but..

Being out in Creation is very soul-restoring.

Looking forward to that.

Of Home and How We Find It

When Tiny Tim (as played by Kermit the Frog) begins to sing at the end of the Muppets' version of A Christmas Carol, I have to be honest and just admit that I cry.

"God bless us all," he sings, "... who gather here, the loving family we hold dear. No place on earth compares with home and every path will lead us back from where we roam."

That Kermit. He wrecks me!

Having moved multiple times in and between six countries and three continents, I am an accidental expert in the emotional travails of separation and loss, boxes and crates, dismantling home and recreating it once again. The drama of moving has it's own set of pains and joys, my considerable experience of which are a byproduct of the adventures I've found.

Now, there is a certain range of hills that run along the southern border of Kenya named, quite simply, Loita. (That's "loi" as in loiter, not lo-ee-tah.) Byron and I lived there for 10 years and, given that I've never remained in any other spot for that long, I often wonder if anywhere will ever feel like home the way Loita did... and does.

When our first home in Loita burned down, we carved a new home out of the hills. One by one, the soil blocks were formed from the rich earth of the range that rose around us. The sand, carried downstream seasonally to pile up on river bends along the way, was hauled up to our clearing and sifted and mixed to become the strong cement of our foundations and the bed to hold the wide, flat stones of our verandah. We walked the hills and chose those stones. We puzzled them together to make a simple and lovely floor.

When Byron realized there was a slight surplus of ceiling joists to hold the upstairs in place, he set to work drawing a dining room table. Thus, our table, made from the strength at the center of the home, was, quite wonderfully, made from the heart of that house.

We shipped that table to Europe when we left Loita. That table, where our babies had sat in their little seats that hung from the chunky edge. That table, made from a house that we designed together to shelter our lives within.

Eventually, we shipped that table back to Africa. Scarred and plain, yet still glowing in warm wood colors, our table stands in all her unpretentious loveliness here in this home in Arusha.

And it's the table that's got me thinking.

Closing my eyes, I see the faces of friends who have gathered round her. Pausing as I write to let their faces come into focus, my throat immediately tightens in that warm way that it does before I cry. My goodness! In these last 17 years since she was made, there have been some pretty precious times centered round that piece of furniture. Precious times because the people who sat with us there were precious.

The table is just a device that draws us close. And yet it's this coming together that makes home. And in this communion, this connection that Sue Monk Kidds calls "a merciful coming together of human hearts", I find that I have home.

Sometimes, when Byron and I are tired, one of us will say that we want to go home. Then we shrug and say, "Of course, we would kind of need to know where home is to do that."

Today, I am reminded that we have home every time we make the choice to open our hearts.

(PS For more thoughts on home by fellow bloggers, click HERE )

September Brings Change...

It was good to be in Loita. Yes, Byron spent a lot of the time working but living by a campfire meant that good things were built in. Good things like zebra, waterbuck, duikers, bushbuck and dik dik around our tents at night. Good things like 5 elephants displaying their indignation and mistrust as we pulled back into camp one evening.

In all the years we lived there, I never saw a single one of the Loita herd. Byron and the boys stalked them on foot but I was always home with a baby :-) I saw the damage they did to trees and the mounds of grassy dropping they left on the trails, but I never got to view them. They are skittish and wary up there and they melt away into the trees. Our large visitors skirted the clearing that night, but trumpeted from the cover of forest several times as we ate our dinner under the stars.

One of the surreal things about returning to Loita is that Andre has a satellite connection to the internet from the house we built back in the 90's. Because we needed to make sure we would receive any news that might suddenly arrive from the school in Kenya that Colin hadn't gotten into, I would drive the 20 minutes over to the house most days to quickly collect mail.

On Thursday there was news. And that's when everything changed.

The filled-to-capacity 10th grade class had settled and shuffled and Karen, the Director of Admissions, had managed to work out how to make room for a few more students. Colin was in.

I remember that I cried as I read the mail to everyone.

Curtailing our time in Loita by a couple of days, we headed down to Narok, across the Rift Valley and up to Kijabe on Sunday. Because we had come prepared for a last minute opening, we had a duffle bag of Colin's things already neatly labeled and ready to go. We moved him into his room, made his bed, and met the family that hosts that dorm. Next morning, bright and early, Colin jumped into 10th grade. He was a week late and it's been a scramble to catch up. I guess God thought a week in Loita with the family was more important for Colin than the first 5 days of classes :-)

So this has been quite an emotional week all the way around. Leaving a high school graduate at college is one thing. Leaving a 15 year old at boarding school is another. I don't mind letting the whole world know that we all cried as we left him after lunch on his first day of classes.

All of us feel really peaceful and positive about this new development. We can see God's hand in it and there are so many good things to embrace about being at a good school with great sports and lots of friends to be made all around. Still, we can't help being pretty much a mess. We're thankful that Colin will be home for at least a month after every 3 up there.

Less than 5 weeks now till he's home for a four day weekend. You can bet your last dollar we're counting the days :-)

Going Quiet Now

We're in Nairobi. Trevor flew out of here on Wednesday night :-(

Colin didn't get a place for 10th grade at RVA (boarding school here in Kenya) but we accompanied Tammy to drop off her son, Chase, for 11th. The Russells are family so it was like seeing someone who is closer than a cousin/pretty much a brother off. We said goodbye to him this morning. I cried a lot and my eyes stayed puffy all day.

We've been running a long marathon for what feels like ages. It's all good. Beautiful things have transpired. Beautiful people have been out to TZ and shared the journey with us in the last couple of months. God is beautiful in the midst of hectic times. And in other times, as well.

I finished the manuscript and sent it to my publisher in the U.K. last Tuesday. I wish I could say something a little more descriptive about it than that but I am so tired right now.

We're going to Loita tomorrow. We lived there for 10 years, you know. It always feel like going home. We'll camp. Byron will have to work but we'll stay long enough to make sure he rests and reads and does some nice hikes in the hills, as well. My work will be visiting in the homes of friends and cooking over the camp fire.

We can walk 30 minutes to our old house from where we'll camp and possibly go on line if we need to. But we won't do that much, I don't think.

So I'm going quiet now.

See you in a couple of weeks.

Walking in Loita

We've been away for a week in the lovely Loita Hills.

There is something very magical to me about Loita. Maybe that's because our 10 years there mark the longest I have ever lived in one location. Or maybe it's just because it's so beautiful and hard to get to and far away and unspoiled. Alternately, it could be because I have very dear friends there who are now family or the fact that my boys grew up there. In reality, I know that it's a combination of all these things that makes Loita shimmer slightly in my mind.

Our trip was not uneventful. We stopped for lunch on the way up, climbing out into the dusty heat to stretch our cramped legs for a little while. When we climbed back in, the car said a simple no to starting. Happily, she push-started quite easily. Good thing because we continued to have to push start her after every stop for the next week. I didn't like the idea of being stuck out there, much as I love it, since we had to get my Dad to a plane on time upon our return.

Loita sings colors of blue of green
Her mist is soft and grey.
I like waking up to her mornings.

During our time there last week, we visited in homes and listened to the struggles of families who are dealing with a hungry season. These are difficult days for our friends.

We hiked for hours all up and down the slopes and in and out of thorny brush and under trees and beside streams. We were plotting some dens on the map with our Walking With Maasai friends who are studying the range of certain critters. We saw lovely forest secrets and sad forest casualties. I will be quiet, holding all those things in my memory.

It was good--so much more than good--to connect with friends there. We are encouraged and discouraged along with them as we share the realities of life there these 9 years after we've moved away.

So we are home in Arusha again, hearts quite full from a pleasurable week of working and walking in a prime showpiece of God's dear Creation. And while it's very nice to be home, I miss the depth of connection I feel with the Creator when I am there.

Loita

What I miss are those nights
White-washed in silver
By the stark moon

Cold air
Sweet to taste
So pure and deep
I could swim

In the cradle of my loft
I pressed the night
Into my heart

Water
Running in the shallow stream

Nightjar
Rising up

We heard the laughter
Of children
Playing on the glittered ground

And songs from far away

The Trek aka All Boys Safely Home (Updated)

The boys arrived home safely on Saturday evening and now it's time for a little photo log of their 16 days. They walked 93 miles but completed a 368 mile circuit when you include the public transportation they used.


On trail


In camp


The soda flats of the desert


Looking back over a section of the desert they crossed


Up in Loita


Loita again


And home :-)

They have some great stories... But those are theirs to tell.

Photos from Recent Days...

It was hot on the roof near Natron, but there was a great view.


We got up early to watch the sun rise over the lake.


Then we saluted the sun.


We crossed into Kenya...


And made our camp...


And found our river...


And played in it.


We walked all over...


Discussed bead work...


Held Nalotuesha's baby...


And made new friends :-)

Photos by Jesse Borden--with his Nikon D 70 S.
(Got a Nikon camera... Mama, don't take his Kodachrome away!)

Back from Beyond

We returned on Sunday night from a week outside.

I can't possibly tell you how good it was for my soul to be in the remote Loita hills, sleeping in my little tent, making tea over the fire and living under the open sky for days on end.

We visited in many homes and drank gallons of chai and caught up with many Maasai friends. We also hiked the hills, walked in the river, stalked elephants, watched the sun rise and set, bathed in the stream and slept soundly in the brisk night air. We sat around the fire every evening and generally felt overcome by the goodness of Creation and her maker.

Quiet now, Lisa. There is no way to convey the strength and joy and beauty of the week.

A photo log to come soon.

I promise.

( PS The "we" included 6 of us Bordens plus 1 Darrelle Good!)

Photos by Jesse Borden

Images On The Way... (A Little Photo Journal from Tanzania)

As promised, a few photos from our recent trip to the northern highlands of Tanzania... Click on any photo that you would like to see larger.

Early on the 22nd we came across 5 elephants in open land outside of the game parks. They were moving along slowly, probably heading to Lake Manyara. Seeing them was a good birthday gift for Byron. They had big tusks :-) This one didn't want his photo taken.


We stopped and bought yellow and red bananas. I later regretted not buying a hat for Trevor!


We sat on the rim of the famous Ngorongoro Crater and toasted Byron's 48th with cold sodas before driving on to Loliondo.


We spent one night at Andre's camp in Loita (and heard elephants trumpeting as they passed close to us in the night.) Thanks for the neat tent, Masons!


I always cry when we get to Loita. The kids grew up playing in this stream. Wouldn't you cry?


I took my morning bath in this shallow pool below Andre's camp. There are hot springs that feed this stream and the water wasn't cold at all.


This is our Maasai Mum, Ngoto Milai. She has been close to our family for 17 years.


I took this photo for Carly Jane. Car, this is the same tree we ate our breakfast under in July. You made us look up and close one eye so that our vision went two dimensional and we talked about how cool God is to make this lace.


Sometimes the kids ride on the roof for a while. A 360 degree view of Africa is a fine thing.


The mountain had just puffed out a cloud of smoke but I missed it. The light grey color down the right side is new lava flow since we camped here last summer.