Sunday morning, I went next door to borrow something. Nancy went into the bedroom to put on her shoes. The babies were playing in the living room.

We came back, and the babies were gone. They are usually in the living room, where a barrier and closed door keeps them confined. But they had gotten out. We searched through the house, and couldn’t find them anywhere.

Finally, we went out the back door. There, in the pouring rain, sat our two babies, dressed in their Sunday finest, in the largest mud puddle they could find, splashing and laughing. They were having such a big time you couldn’t help but enjoy it, although during the bath to clean them off, it was easy to forget enjoying it.

This was a big day, because our dorm asked the eighth grade GIRLS dorm to come over and watch a movie. Some of our of guys were thrilled, and several tried to hide in their bedrooms because they were so nervous. Being a dorm parent of eighth grade guys has convinced me that I am VERY glad I don’t have to relive that part of my life, but I think they all had a big time.

Eighth grade is such a weird year; some of the girls looked like they could date the Dallas Cowboys, and eighth grade guys look like eighth grade guys. Someday the inequities will even out, but right now I have to tell some of them `your day will come.’

The four-week teacher strike is over, and Kenyan children are finally back at school. One of them told a pastor that she was glad the strike was over because she was hungry. We are excited that the feeding continues and we will be able to add two schools in January.

The election is scheduled for December 27th, and it really will be interesting to see what happens. So far, there are obvious tensions but no real violence. We are grateful for that, and we are hoping for good things.

This week was a time of real contrasts, and somehow it explains to me why Kenya has the problems it has. I was invited to a harambe for a pastor. A harambe is when the entire community unites to help someone out. It is a good thing in principle, but too often it replaces good stewardship in Africa. And then when you are asked time after time after time you start to get numb to it all.

This pastor is a good friend of mine, and we have had many adventures together with the orphanage and the school lunch program. If you saw the car he drove, you would know that he is not living high on the hog. He is almost 60, and has worked hard his whole life.

But the harambe was to send him to England for a refreshing vacation. And he had pretty high expectations that the missionaries would pay for a good part of it.

The bottom line is that I can’t really understand the bone crunching poverty of Africa, and he doesn’t understand that when I was in the states and made a six-figure income, it never occurred to me to take an international vacation because I couldn’t afford it. Now I make a tenth of that, but I am so rich compared to most Kenyans that they don’t see the limit to our money, and ask things that might be inappropriate.

But is it inappropriate? He has worked so hard, and without a break for so many years, that is it unreasonable to have one big vacation? In the United States, we’ve given money to send our pastor on much needed vacations. Why is this different?

How do you deal with that in the context of hunger and children not being in school because they don’t have the school fees?

I really don’t know the answer, but I suspect that some of Kenya’s issues are people overreaching instead of dealing with the greatest needs. How you prioritize is a hard question for any of us; in Africa, it can often be a life and death question.

In the same week, our friend Joel’s wife had a baby, and we had offered to have a baby bed made for him when he told me that most Africans can’t afford to have a separate bed for their babies, so they sleep on the floor. Joel is the man who borrowed (and repaid) the money for his famous cow `Kowjabe.’ So I went to his house to deliver the bed.

Joel lives almost four miles away. It can take him over ninety minutes to walk to work. He and his wife live in a home with walls of mud and canvas grain bags on the walls to keep the rain out. They have a dirt floor, no windows and cook over an open flame.

We put the crib in the house, and it almost didn’t fit because it was so large compared to the rest of the house. Most Kenyan babies don’t have a bed; it just boggles my western mind.

So, in the same week, I’m involved in helping someone take a vacation and giving a baby a bed.

When there are limited resources, you’ve got to make the right choice. Those choices are hard ones, and I think that is the biggest issue in Africa today.

In the same way, it is an issue for all of us. How do we prioritize what is important? If someone doesn’t do that carefully out here, they usually die. Sometimes I wish I could view my resources in that context; that how I spend my money can make the difference between life and death.

I wish I could conclude this with nice homilies, but Africa is way beyond easy answers for me.

Steve Peifer