The Spitting Cobra and the Puff Adder

This happened about our fourth week in Africa: Gene, Melba, Jessica, Angela, Nathan, and I were sitting around playing cards one night at the house in Lodwar. It was getting pretty late and we were all about to go to bed for the evening when we heard the dogs barking. Soon after, the guard (everyone has a guard in Kenya) came and got us and brought us outside. The four dogs were barking at a spitting cobra in the driveway. Gene went inside and boiled some water to throw on it. When he came back, I found a spot to watch, well out of spitting range. It was kind of exciting to watch. The boiling water disoriented the cobra and it tried to get away but Gene cut of it’s head with the end of a pole. After all the excitement was over, the guard turned to me and send something that I didn’t understand. Then he lowered his flashlight to reveal and puff adder coiled up 3 of 4 inches away from my bare foot (everyone walks around in sandals so it wasn’t a big deal to be barefoot). I quickly jumped out of the way, then it got the same treatment as the cobra. Puff adders, in case you don’t know, are very poisonous. God’s protection and control of everything became all to real that night. While it was a very dangerous situation, I was glad to experience and know that God was/is protecting me and I am in his will.

Back in Nairobi for a few days before heading back to America at midnight on Tuesday. It’s weird to think it took about 40 hours to get to Nairobi from Indy but it’s around 12 going back. I’ve learned so much, I don’t even know if I will really realize it for a while. Having church in English this morning was really nice. I’ve learned how great God is, how great America is and how terrible America is. Can’t wait to be back but I will miss Africa, excluding Nairobi. Eight flights down, four to go.

Gene’s Guardian Angel

In the mid 1990’s, early on in the Morden’s time in Turkana, Gene had an extraordinary encounter. One night, he was at a fellow missionary’s home in Lodwar with his family, Melba and two daughters, and some guests. They were talking and playing cards, enjoying one another’s company, when a knock came. Without really giving much thought to who it could be, one of Gene’s daughters answered the door. She was greeted by a pistol pointed directly at her face. She screamed and immediately everyone became aware of the situation. Gene says when that happened, a feeling came over him that everything would be alright. Upon entrance, the two men carrying handguns instructed everyone to get down on the floor. They then, pointed the weapon at Gene and told him to go into the other room and retrieve money from their guest’s luggage. When they became impatient with Gene’s pace, they shoved him out of the room back with the others and made one of Gene’s daughters the new gatherer. When she had finished they came back to the main room, with their sacks of money, and told Gene to get down on his knees. One of the men pressed the gun to his head and just as he was about to pull the trigger, Gene was shoved to the floor and the man’s arm was pushed upward, firing a harmless bullet into the ceiling. Terrified, the two men rushed out of the house. After everyone else figured out Gene was alright, and found the security guard who had been beaten, they called the authorities in Lodwar. They never found out who did it, or how they knew they had guests or how they knew which room of the house the luggage was in. But the important thing was everyone was unharmed. Four years later Gene ran across the man that had tried to end his life. That man became a Christian two months after he robbed the Mordens and gave up being a bandit because, he says, when he pulled that trigger, he had every intention of killing Gene. But he saw an angel shove Gene over and push his arm up as he fired, and he couldn’t get that image out of his head.

That’s probably my favorite story that I will bring back, at least, that I wasn’t involved in. Here at the All African Missionaries Conference, there are missionaries here from Uganda, Kenya, Zimbabwe, Tanzania, and some other African countries that I just can’t remember right now. Even though they are missionaries, that doesn’t necessarily mean they have all the answers about their faith, they have the same questions you and I have. They just felt a calling and responded. I thought that was kind of a comforting thought. Less than a week left in Africa, back to Nairobi on Saturday, then back to America next Tuesday.

Tales of Diviners

We left Lodwar and are now in Malindi, which is a little town north of Mombasa on the coast of the Indian Ocean. On our flights we were able to see both Mt. Kenya and Mt. Kilimanjaro, which was kind of cool. It was difficult to say goodbye to the people, but I was glad to leave because a place like that takes a toll on you. When we left Turkana, we all described it like leaving a spiritual war zone. It was a relief not feeling like we were under attack anymore. So we now understand what all the missionaries meant when they said it is a spiritual demanding place. Things that didn’t normally bother us did and we all had trouble staying focused. But the Lord was with us and we made it through it. These are a couple of stories that we heard about diviners. Just to let you know one more time, diviners are like witch doctors who think they have power because they pray to Satan.

During a bad drought, a diviner requested that everyone bring him their animals and he would pray for rain. He also told them, that if they played their drums that they normally play when they praise God, he wouldn’t ask for rain and it would never come. After this, the tribe had a meeting and said they were going to play their drums louder than ever. All of a sudden one man stood up and said that later that day, it would rain. He said this with no clouds in the sky or any sign of rain. When their drums were played, lightning was spotted on the horizon, and a few minutes later, the biggest storm in 3 years had arrived.

One diviner was told directly by Satan that he was to go out into the desert and dig a hole, so he did. The whole time, he thought he was digging is own grave. When he was finished, Satan told him to get in, so he did. Thinking he would surely die, he saw Jesus reach out to him and hand him a pole and life him out. After two months, that diviner became a Christian.

One day, a missionary in Turkana felt God’s call to go and talk to a diviner about Christ. He went and told him about Jesus and when he was finished, the diviner instructed him to leave and if he ever came back, he would kill him. The very next day, he felt God call him back to that village. When he got there and began to speak, someone in the village went to tell the diviner. When the diviner heard what was happening, he went to find the missionary and fulfill his promise. When he came to where the missionary was, he dropped dead on the spot.

Goodbye, Lodwar

Since we have been here, Gene and Melba have started a blog which contains a few pictures of me and my teammates, so for a taste of what we have been up to, go to www.gmmorden.wordpress.com, I think the pics are on the “Interns 2009″ page. Meanwhile, the team has been busy digging the well that was supposed to be dug last week. God blessed our efforts because a brand new well was dug in 2 days. It was unbelievable how easy it was, well, how quick it was. Wells aren’t easy to dig. Monday night was the weekly prayer meeting with all the missionaries in the area. That night I got my first shot at being at a prayer band. You are probably wondering what instrument, well, most people don’t play instruments for the first time in public. But the Spirit was with me that night and I played that tambourine like it had never been played before. I would say my time here in the desert has flown by because it feels like last week that we arrived, but then I think of all the times that I looked at my watch only to see 30 seconds had gone by. I will miss the stars, the tea, the people, and how cheap everything is. I won’t miss sweating constantly, poisonous thorns, rocks that are 15 feet underground, and the language barrier. Tomorrow will be spent giving out gifts to all of our friends and saying goodbyes, then, Friday morning we head to Nairobi. Back where it all started.

Successful Rescue of the Garden at Kangagetae

First off, I can’t believe Francouer was traded! Second, our rescue mission was a success! We made the hour and a half drive out there on Thursday morning, Nathan, I, and the crew. Rough roads, what else is new? Found the well and removed everything, so basically we were starting all over. The crops had already been a few days without water, so with this well, it was as much a race against the clock as it was a must to get it done. After we removed all the pipes and the pump, one team of us cleaned the pipes to prepare for re-installation, while the other team started digging again because the hole collapsed. While this experience was one of the more rewarding on the trip so far, it was also the most frustrating. One thing about the people is that they don’t take to change very easily, so after seeing how wells are dug we offered some suggestions to maximize efficiency, like true Americans. Things like using a wratchet instead of a wrench, a pointed pipe cuts through the dirt and goes down easier than a flat one, and using your legs to lift things instead of your arms because your lower body is stronger. These were just a few things we tried to show them. It wasn’t the language barrier as much as it was their culture, because only two of them don’t speak english. So my patience was tested often during the trip but God helped me stay calm and keep it together. We dropped the pipe down about half of the depth we needed the first day and by Friday evening, we had plenty of water in the ground the re-install the solar powered pump. Thursday night, after work we visited the residence of Dr. Lickey (spelling?) who is a well known archaeologist who discovered Turkana Boy, which is supposed to be one of the earliest skeletons. Didn’t meet him, just toured the facilities. Friday night, we went to night church. The moon was so bright, it lit up the sand so much we could navigate through the dunes and palm trees without a flashlight to find the small gathering of people in an open field singing. The drum they beat that could be heard for miles helps too. So they sang and danced and praised God while I, like a good missionary, fell asleep in the middle of it. They didn’t notice. The next day, we installed everything but no water came out. So we made the long trip back to Lodwar, grabbed another pump, drove back, installed, and watched the water flow. The garden was turning brown, but there won’t be much more of that. One man told us that when the water stopped coming, he was afraid they would all die. It’s great to have success in the well digging business after so many failures. It was also cool to hang out with the guys while Gene wasn’t there because they seemed to be more relaxed and themselves without the boss there. We resume the well we started last Wednesday tomorrow til Thursday then to Mombasa so there will probably be one more post from Lodwar. While I’m in Mombasa, there won’t be much “action” so I’m going to post the incredible stories I have been collecting all summer, which to tell you the truth, you will probably like more than any posts so far, so look forward to that. Anyways, in summary, we saved the day, the garden will live! I think I forgot to mention this, but my African name is “Esakon.” I have acquired a lot of names on this trip.

Garden Rescue

Alright, a lot of plans have changed in the past few days so I’m trying to remember what has happened but it’s hard because everything seems to be being blurred together. Richard, another missionary, asked me yesterday, “How has your trip been?” This doesn’t seem like a question that would floor most people, but I just sat there trying to come up with an answer. I couldn’t come up with a word, phrase, or sentence, so I just sat there in silence, not wanting to sound cliche by saying, “there are no words.” Even now a few days later, I can’t come up with an answer. Perhaps in Mombasa, I will have time to digest it all, and maybe I will have an answer by the time I get back. Anyways, Tuesday morning was spent cleaning up a well that people had stolen the pump from, thrown trash in, and then realized that they ruined their drinking water. On Wednesday, we were about to start digging at site B by the river when we got a call. About an hour outside of town, a well had gotten clogged and the well was the only source of water for a village’s garden. So, in order to save the garden from dying, we are going on a emergency rescue dig tomorrow to remove the sand and bring the water back. Albert, our translator, has been giving titles to our “missions” (drilling expeditions) and everyone nicknames. Since our first five well attempts hit rock, that was dubbed “The Battle of the Rock.” (There is a spider hunting a fly that is buzzing around the light above me and it’s really distracting) Tomorrow morning at dawn, we set out on “The Rescue of the Garden at Karenghetti.” I don’t know how to spell that. Anyway Eric’s name is “Doctor” (He’s a nurse), Sylvester is “International” (He drives everywhere), Nathan is “Deputy International” (He also drives), Albert is “Number 10″ (He wears a shirt with 10 on the back), and I am “Christiano Ronaldo, the Middle Field Player” (My soccer heroics). It’s long but it’s funny. Only a week left in the desert. I’m doing everything I can to enjoy it, because I know I will miss it. (The spider caught the fly, then I killed the spider)

Bad Well News

After our day of rest, which mostly involved talking to visiting missionaries with our jaws on the floor as they told us stories of God’s faithfulness in their lives including one about a girl literally being brought back to life through prayer, we got bad news on our well. We test pumped it just before we were planning on making it a permanent addition to the landscape, and it went dry. So Monday was spent cleaning up and moving to site B. It’s across town next to a river (river water is dirty but water underground is clean). Hopefully that will go quickly, because Gene wants to go back to Kang’Irisae to make another well or two in our last week. Tonight, all the missionaries around the area come over to pray for our cause. It was cool because we aren’t all from the same organization or country (one from Scotland, two from England, two from the Netherlands, two from Germany) but we all want the same thing. Here’s the problem here in a nutshell. They have camels here, tons of them. Yet they don’t ride them, or use them to carry stuff, or eat them. They aren’t used for anything because it’s just their culture, you don’t use camels for anything. All they are used for is a status symbol. It’s ridiculous, God has given them something to help them and they don’t use it. But I guess it’s not their fault they don’t know. It’s just the mentality that they are poor that is hard to get over. It’s going to be weird going back to the States when the time comes, after being here where clothing is optional and I feel like I am is stuck in National Geographic. I’ll do a post a little later with just stories I have acquired from other missionaries. That has been one of the best parts, hearing the stories of God’s power. Combine that with my own experiences and my faith is already totally different from what it was when I touched down in Africa.

Fourth at Lake Turkana

First of all there are a couple things I forgot to mention about Kang’Irisae. I learned to drive a stick, make fire using only two sticks and a donkey pellet, and slaughter and prepare a goat for dinner. Second, our well from last week is nearing completion. There’s water and it’s about 30 feet down into the ground. We still have to pump water to make sure it will regenerate, and that will be the final test. If all goes well Monday, we will be installing the permanent piping and cement. Hopefully, then, we will then start to put in the solar powered irrigation to build a garden, that is if the solar panels come in soon. Hard to believe we have less than two weeks left in Lodwar, since we’re heading to Mombasa on the 17th. Ok, now the 4th. Yesterday in the morning it was hard not to think about all the things I’m missing back home by being here, but that changed. Around two we headed towards the lake. It took us about an hour and half from where we’re at to get there. The lake is so big, it felt like we were at the ocean, since there’s also sand and palm trees, and the water is salty. We swam in the water til dusk then came in for hot dogs and Coke. Didn’t see any crocodiles or hippos. Good news if you didn’t want any trouble, bad news if you wanted some pictures. There were flamingos though, so that’s something. We did a pretty good job of American-izing or trip, except for the fact that we were the only ones at the “beach.” Then some people came back selling stuff like spears, baskets, and necklaces that they made from bones and other things that you can’t get through customs. Had a great fireworks display when it got dark and drove back listening to patriotic songs, i.e. “R.O.C.K. in the USA.” Celebrating Independence Day in another country makes me feel more blessed to be and American. But really every moment I have been here makes me feel so blessed by God to to what and who I have. So, Sunday will be a day or rest like always then the next two weeks, we’ll be getting back to work on wells and gardens, then we’re flying out. Then a week in Mombasa, a few days in Nairobi, then 6 flights in four days to get back to Atlanta. It’ll be here before I know it, it’s all flying by.

Miracle in Kang’Irisae

I figured out how to spell Kang’Irisae. Anyways we left Monday afternoon on our 3 hour roller coaster ride and arrived around 4:30. The place is out in the middle of nowhere (but you already figured that) and we stayed in tents in the village. Pumped water, ate dinner, and went to bed. Not much on Monday. Tuesday, we got up and went out with Gene to check some wells in the area while the girls went with Eric on an hour long trek to a clinic in the next village to do nutrition surveys. We broke some equipment which really freed up our week, that morning. I tried to teach some of the kids the game of hitting a nut (ball) with a stick (bat) known in the states as “baseball” and some of them got it. Wednesday, while the girls taught a nutrition lesson under a tree, Nathan, Albert and I went out in the village to check it out. The village is where Albert is from so he knew everyone. I got my picture taken in a traditional wedding hat, with a guy I would later found out, is a bandit. Then we went to the school, where the school’s headmaster asked us to make a sign for the school, and we did. We almost finished until we were invited to play football with them (soccer). So two American boys playing soccer with a bunch of Kenyans in the bush, I was a little nervous. The game went well though, my team beat Nathan’s team, 2-1, and I had an assist. That was kind of amazing, but it did come at a price. I had a couple blisters and a swollen ankle from where I was taken out by none other than, Nathan. But that’s what I get for playing in sandals. So we went back to our place, ate, played cards, and went to bed. Thursday was much of the same, we went to the school (grades 1-8) and finished the sign, the headmaster bought us Cokes. Then we played soccer again. The game was tied 2-2 with a few minutes left this time when God decided it was time he showed everyone He was with us. I received a pass on the left side from Peter (a national) and put it right inside the right post. Thus the miracle happened. A mzungu (white person) that never plays soccer scored the game winning goal in a game with Kenyans that are amazing at soccer. To many that might not seem like a miracle, but to me and people who have seen me play soccer and seen people in the bush play soccer, it is. So we went back after that and attended wounds, new and old, and went to sleep. Got up Friday and did a CHE lesson in Nakor before heading back to Lodwar. It was a good week, and it’s hard to believe there’s only two weeks left in Lodwar before we head to Mombasa. Tomorrow we are grilling hot dogs and light fireworks at the lake like many of you, but the difference is that I have to worry about hippos when I swim. It has been very taxing experience, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually but God has taught me so much about himself and allowed me to see more of what makes Him so beautiful. Thanks for all the support I’m getting, every email or comment or whatever means a lot. I can’t thank all of you enough. I’m not sure about our well from last week, if it’s done or not, I’ll update that situation tomorrow or Sunday. Have a Happy July Fourth.

Scaling Lodwar Mountain

Friday we worked all day on a hole that hit a rock on Saturday, in which case we started well number six on the sixth day of work. By the time it was all said and done on Saturday, we had gone thirty feet into the ground without hitting a rock. It’s just too bad we won’t be there this week to see its completion. This morning, we got up bright and early, 5:45, to go climb Lodwar Mountain. When I say climb, I mean climb. It was steep and very rocky. We could see Lake Turkana and Uganda from the top. Although, Nathan and I couldn’t decide if it were taller than Stone Mountain or not. It was definitely harder to climb, took about 3 hours up and down. Went to church, helped someone move, then sang some songs at night. Tomorrow, we ship out for Kangarisa and Nakor for CHE lessons and nutrition clinics. Hard to believe there’s only 4 weeks left.